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Nihilus Filius Et Sacerdos Chapter 9
🕑 Added 2024-07-25 13:31:19 +0000 UTCI'm not dead!
'Ere now, he says he's not dead!
Yes he is!
I feel happy...I feel happy!
(*cue Monty Python song)
Well, you know the drill, You know the drill, read review, moo, yodelayheehoo.
Huge shoutout to old man of the mountain and laughingnell for betaing and helping me!
Velaryon IV
From Dragons, Blood and Magic: A History of the Arcane in Westeros, by Archmaester Monterys
This history contains excerpts from the journals of Archmaester Monterys, during his tenure as the Maester of High Tide, the seat of House Velaryon and its Lord, Corlys the Sea Snake, such as this:
When Lord Corlys returned to High Tide with his strange guests, many questions were raised, if only due to their peculiar attributes. But after the Humbling of the Dragon, as the incident in the yard would come to be known by some, whispers soon spread through all of Driftmark. Two sorcerers in the service of House Velaryon, runaways from Volantis. I confess that even my curiosity was piqued, despite my skepticism. I may not have attained a Valyrian steel link until later years, but even I knew that the magics of the world were confined solely to the Targaryens and their dragons after the Doom.
So it was to my surprise that I was summoned to the solar of the Sea Snake with scribes and was greeted by my Lord, his two foreign guests and a third: One Maqarro Talerys, youngest scion of a member of the Elephants' Guild of Volantis. Lord Corlys offered him to serve as a teacher and interpreter of Volantene for both the Lord and his twin charges. We were introduced, and I am proud to say that it forged a friendship that lasted until our dying days.
Albaz and Ecclesia - those were their names, and by that alone I had never before seen such an odd pair. Both seemed to have stepped out of legends, especially the boy Albaz with his queer, inhuman appearance. The girl, Ecclesia, was just as striking, with her blonde hair and regal aura. For a moment I'd considered her a noble lady of the Westerlands.
Lord Corlys had summoned me to transcribe their accounts of their native lands, with goodman Talerys acting as the translator. Naturally, I was excited; how often does a maester have the chance to record such wonders, records of lands unknown?
And what wonders they were!
The lady Ecclesia hails from a faraway kingdom called 'Dogmatika'. She was unable to point it out on Lord Corlys' maps, even when shown Volantis, but I believe her lands to exist even further than Asshai-by-the-shadow, for her full descriptions match none of the Free Cities. A great city, surrounded by ruins and deserts, with every building cast in pure-white stone. When inquired about their ruler, the Lady Ecclesia stated that they were ruled not by a king, an emperor, or magisters, but by a high priest!
I professed my confusion and the Lady further elaborated: their faith, whose name she did not state but will be referred to as 'the Dogmatika Faith', held final authority over all affairs of the land. Even the nobility was not exempt, with firstborn sons often called to serve in the church as administrators or warriors. Even the Faith Militant did not have such power over their leal nobility during the reign of Maegor the Cruel. Nor would the Volantene Triarchs allow the Red Priests such sway over them.
The Dogmatika Faith states that their nation is an oasis of balance amidst a sea of chaos. All outsiders are considered dangerous heretics who would attempt to wipe them out, with great beasts and fearsome monsters emerging from the sands and attacking their borders every day. As such, the church must train warriors and use them to destroy those who would threaten the nation. Those warriors are then 'blessed' by the High Priest, which in turn grants them great strength. Lady Ecclesia was one such warrior, and she mentioned to several other women warriors whom she knew.
My brothers at the Citadel and many would scoff and decry this, yet how can I doubt what I see before my eyes? Lord and Lady Velaryon had both witnessed her fight with the Rogue Prince and did not dispute her accounts. What creatures could be so fearsome, so monstrous that such warriors are needed?
The cawing of gulls is ever-present on the island of Driftmark. When she was but a child and unflowered, Laena enjoyed spending afternoons with her mother drinking tea and listening to their songs. Sometimes she would even venture out to the docks with her father and listen to them as he spoke with his traders and vassals. Keeping them away from the food was a minor annoyance, but listening to their songs was well worth any hassle, despite the disagreements of some of the young ladies who visited Driftmark.
Yet today, as it has been for the past week or so, Laena found herself unable to listen to the cawing of the gulls, instead focusing on the clanging of steel below her. A common sound in the yard, but its source was new: Albaz was striking with vigor against his lady companion, both with blunted training swords in hand. The boy's movements were rough and vicious, as they were during his spar with Daemon, while Ecclesia guarded and avoided every slash and swipe. Every so often, they would stop, she would give him some pointers, and they would resume. Whenever the two were not in their rooms or chronicling their homeland with her father, they were in the yard.
Laena discreetly glanced at the nearby balconies and edges, where various spectators had lined up. The house guards have done an exemplary job of keeping unwanted visitors away. Still, within the past couple of days, her father had begun to allow some courtiers to watch, provided they did not interfere. She spotted several ladies she had seen during Daemon's humbling gesturing and whispering rapidly between themselves. Behind the guards, several nobles, also observed the pair, including Ser Cedric Crakehall, who was fingering the hilt of his sword.
Albaz shoulder-rammed his opponent and attempted a sweeping slash, but Ecclesia merely leaned to the side and struck his ribs, sending him rolling across the floor. The girl immediately rushed to his side and pulled him up, brushing off the dust from his strange cloak. She asked him something and he nodded before settling into another sword stance.
The frown on some of the onlookers' faces had grown while the rest seemed ponderous as to the display of strength from the petite girl. Even Laena, who had started to grow accustomed to Ecclesia's displays of martial prowess, never felt her fascination dull. For a society to produce warriors of such strength, even with women…were the monsters that Ecclesia had so frequently described to her father and Maester Monterys so dangerous? And if she was this skilled, how strong was the one who trained her, the sister she called Fleur?
The Velaryon woman fought down the sudden pang in her breast. Was it jealousy? Why should she be jealous? She rode Vhagar, the mount of Visenya and the mightiest dragon in all the Seven Kingdoms. She was the daughter of Corlys Velaryon, one of the greatest and wealthiest Houses in Westeros, married to the Rogue Prince, and mother to two beautiful daughters. She had seen and learned things that noble ladies - even noblemen - would sell their firstborn children for!
Perhaps it was the girl's confidence? Stared down by a crowd of judgmental men and Daemon, only to knock him flat on his back and leave without a word?
She shook her head. No, she was surely exaggerating. This was her life, and only being Queen would be considered better. Though from what she had heard of Alicent Hightower and their sparse encounters, such a position was little to be envied.
Mayhaps it was wonderment? Even now, as she trains her companion, she moves with utter surety in her technique. She spins around as she dodges another slash. One of the onlookers lets out a mocking whistle, only for the revolting smirk to vanish under the young girl's piercing stare. He looks down, flustered, and Ecclesia turns away with a huff, eliciting further whispers from the watching ladies.
It appeared as though they would go another round when Albaz fell on one knee. Ecclesia rushed to his side as Laena made her way down. The guards let her pass with nary a word into the yard. The original two her father assigned to them had not sufficed when they began their daily sparring sessions; one of the visiting noblemen had tried to rudely question the guests before the guards pushed him away, averting a possible incident. Now there was a ten-strong contingent watching the yard at various points. Excessive? Not to her lord father.
"Good morning Ecclesia. How was your spar?"
Ecclesia wiped the sweat from her brow and smiled. "Good morning to you too Laena, it was great actually. Albaz is picking up the lessons fast. Pretty soon we'll move to some of the more advanced techniques Fleur taught me."
"I saw some men watching turning green at some of the techniques you showed here," commented Laena teasingly. "If those were considered basic, they might merge with the grass from sheer envy."
She blushed and rubbed her arm. "It's nothing. Fleur is way better at this than me. She would've trained him to be a master swordsman already."
"Truly? Forgive me if I'm skeptical; I have seen many great swordsmen. I dare say you might even rank amongst the best of them." She turned to the boy. "How do you fare, Albaz?"
"I'm…I'm good," he replied, panting as he got up. "Just a bit tired."
"Do you want to stop the lessons?" Ecclesia asked worryingly. "I know I've been a little hard and you haven't used a sword much but -"
"No, no." Albaz shook his head. "I need to do this." He then looked at her with his lone eye and gave her a fanged grin. While startled when she first saw the pointed teeth, Laena had since grown accustomed to it along with the rest of his queer appearance. "Besides, you're a great teacher!"
The girl's blush intensified and she looked to the side, tugging a lock of her blonder hair. Laena felt the smile creep up on her lips. Even a dullard could see the affection between them.
"Albaz is right, my lady. Your spars have attracted quite the crowd," the Velaryon lady said as she gestured to the onlookers, some of whom averted their gaze. "And after your bout with Daemon, whispers have only grown." Though calling it a 'bout' was an over-exaggeration. "Though it helps that Albaz seems a diligent student."
The boy scratched the back of his head, his dark cheeks coloring. "Heh, thanks Laena." He glanced at the blunted sword in his hand. "Actually, I think I've got some ideas for a move. I'll need my real sword for that though."
Ecclesia's flustered look turned intrigued. "Really? Wanna show me?"
Albaz nodded and ran to the nearby weapons rack where his sword rested. Grabbing the Valyrian blade, he positioned the sword so that it pointed behind him and crouched. He took a deep breath, and with a single step, he leapt forward and thrust the weapon, a stream of red-hot flames trailing behind him.
Laena gasped and stepped back. Even after seeing it used against her husband, she could not help the creeping fear and curiosity in her gut at the sight of such magic. She heard the scant onlookers mutter curses and even the slight drawing of a blade rang in her ears.
"That was amazing!" Ecclesia exclaimed, clapping. Albaz blushed at the compliment, although his fanged smile never faded. His red eye met hers and Laena blinked.
"Ah…yes, that was…quite extraordinary," she said after taking a moment to compose herself. "I was wondering if you would like to visit Spicetown; I'm afraid, with my father's enthusiasm regarding your homeland I haven't fulfilled our little promise." She didn't stop the teasing smile that grew on her lips. "Not to mention you must be hungry after this exercise, considering how quickly you clean our larders."
The girl's face flashed scarlet once more and even Albaz grew sheepish. The sight of it was so jarring, especially compared to what she had seen moments prior, that Laena could not help but giggle.
"Um, I'm sorry, Lady Laena," muttered Ecclesia. "It's just that I've always needed to eat a lot of food and the church always had -"
"It's fine," the silver-haired lady interjected. "You are our guests, and as such, 'tis our duty to provide you with the best hospitality House Velaryon can provide. Besides, we are used to inhabitants with rather large stomachs; dragons are hardly dainty eaters."
Ecclesia's blush slowly faded as her friend brushed off the dirt on his cloak. "I shall have a wheelhouse and some guards prepared for us. Spicetown is a fair ride away, so we should make haste."
Seeing their nods, Laena turned and called for one of the knights. Stepping forward, the iron-clad soldier bowed to her. "We are going on a trip to Spicetown. Have horses, guards, and a trunk for our purchases prepared at once."
"By your command, my lady."
The guard left and Laena turned to them again. "Would you both like to change clothes? Or refresh yourself with some food before we leave?"
The two youths looked at each other silently before Ecclesia replied. "I think we would like some of that fruit we had yesterday."
Laena nodded as she raised a mental eyebrow. How close were they, to communicate with nary a word or gesture? She had only seen such skill in her mother and father, and that was after years of marriage.
A little while later, the lady and her guests were mounted atop horses at the gates of High Tide. Ecclesia was composed in her saddle as she sat front-facing, not side-saddle as many women did, and finished the fruit she was given. Not that she would comment; she had always found side-saddle irritating and uncomfortable, and riding with Vhagar only cemented that fact. In contrast, Albaz fidgeted in his saddle and fiddled with the reins. Was he a poor rider? Laena realized her question and chuckled, drawing their attention.
"It is nothing, my guests. Merely a jape I recalled." And what a jape; for what dragon would consider riding horseback?
She signaled one of the guards - one of ten that accompanied them - to help Albaz as he rode. With a snap of her reins, they set off briskly.
As they rode, she glanced back and indeed, Albaz did struggle at first, tugging too harshly with the reins of his horse and causing it to slow down. Thankfully, the guard used gestures and a soothing voice to help the boy. He still looked uncomfortable, but the ride went by smoother.
When they reached Spicetown, Laena smiled as her guests stared with open awe at the city. Originally nothing more than a nameless fishing village, Corlys used the immense wealth he gained from his Nine Voyages to transform it into a trading hub that matched the greatest ports in Westeros, perhaps even the known world. The coast's bowl-like shape formed a natural harbor, crowned by stone jetties from each tip. The rest of the harbor was lined with quays and docks, each separated into different areas. Any ship that entered Spicetown's waters was received by longboats bearing dockworkers and scribes and queried as to its port of origin, and depending on the answer given and its cargo was sent to a different quay for ease of business - and the sailors' peace of mind. When Laena had asked him the reason once, her father responded that sailors tended to ease and relax in the presence of fellow countrymen, making them more open to negotiations.
The city had no walls, for Driftmark was the Velaryons' and theirs alone. As such, they entered through Merman's Street, one of four streets that ran through the city like a great cross. Almost immediately they drew a crowd: the smallfolk all stood back and watched with whispers and gestures as the sigil of the seahorse rode through the street. Children climbed onto their fathers' backs to gawk and point at the Velaryon guards. At the sight of Albaz and Ecclesia, the whispers had grown into mutters as some clutched star pendants and stepped back, while others gaped in open wonder at the sight of such exotic-looking foreigners.
Albaz looked around nervously, his hands tightly clutching his horse's reins. Lightly pulling her horse to his side, Ecclesia reached over and gently patted him on the arm, which seemed to ease him, if only a little. Laena herself though, maintained her bearing while occasionally waving to the crowd.
By the time they had reached the main market, the news had spread. People were opening up windows and spying on the group as they rode. The stalls that lined the cobblestone paths, all crowned with red canvas, began hawking their wares loudly, proclaiming how they each held the most exotic of spices, the finest silks, and the freshest fish. Merchants dressed in all manners of robes, coats, and doublets eyed them with curiosity, eager to make deals with the daughter of the Sea Snake. When they dismounted their steeds, Laena caught murmurs of 'witch', 'prince', and 'dragonseed', among others.
"I welcome you, my guests, to Spicetown," she said with a smile. "To this being the first of many visits."
And so they went, going through many stalls, surrounded by guards and townsfolk alike. At first, Laena guided the two through some cloth stands, asking them if anything caught their eye so that the servants might sew them new clothes. Ecclesia was drawn to an orange-blue silk sheet, which the merchant had said was made in Dorne, while Albaz did not seem to express much interest. Next, they stopped when the dragon-child gazed at a polished fang from Yi-Ti and Ecclesia eyed a Myrish lens. Interesting trinkets, if nothing else. Laena sampled and purchased some new spices from the Summer Isles, having gained inspiration from her meals in Pentos.
The two eventually grew hungry, so while they waited for some hot pies drizzled with honey - a treat normally found only in lordly households, yet easily made here through the city's abundance - the Velaryon lady's sharp ears caught more comments passing by their entourage.
"- so I put the saffron to me nose, and 'twas just some rose petal! I woulda torn down his stall and cut off his nose if not for -"
"-by the Seven, it's just like the rumors! The eye of a dragon and the hair of a Valyrian-"
"-me ma used to tell me stories, on how the Valyrian maidens laid with dragons to birth the first dragonriders. I'd bet me right arm that he's one of them-"
"-honey shipments from Oldtown slowing down these past moons. Curse the Hightowers to the seven hells, increasing tariffs! Where am I supposed to-"
"-the girl, I've seen Westerland wenches that would sell their children for hair like that-"
"-fresh nutmeg! Straight from the Summer Isles, just in from past night! Cinnamon, curry, worth every-"
"-smacked Daemon right into the wall-"
"Like the song!"
Laena felt her interest pique at the last one, if only because it seemed the least outlandish out of everything else.
"Tell me goodman, I've been hearing whispers of a new song about Driftmark," she said to the vendor, who just handed her guests their meals. "Have you heard of it?"
"Oh yes, milady, not one week ago it started." He glanced at Ecclesia, happily munching on her pie. "Thought it was another jape by the bards, they've been running out of ideas, but…" The pointed stare she gave him, muted his question, making him mumble in apology. She motioned for one of the guards to pay the man before leaning to the guard's side.
"I suppose we shall be hearing that song in the streets soon enough, no?"
The guard nodded. "I'd be surprised if they kept their tongues shut, milady. They've sung it once or twice 'round High Tide, but away from yours and Lord and Lady Velaryon's ears."
And my husband, she thought. She thought of asking the guard for whomever played the song, but ultimately dropped the matter; she had heard far worse in King's Landing when she was but a child.
"Did you enjoy the pies?"
"Mm-hmm! I've never had them with honey before!" exclaimed Ecclesia. Albaz also nodded as he munched on the last of his pie. "I've never seen a city like this before, it's very…colorful."
Laena giggled. "Yes, and we pride ourselves on it; dyes and paints come here from all over the world, so many have taken to painting their houses and roofs. Did you not have markets like this back in Dogmatika?"
"Oh, we did. We had a market day every sixth day, and at the end of the month, the market stretched through the entire city. But…the city was made of white stone. Not many colors, even during those days."
"Ah, like High Tide's white stones?"
She tapped her chin. "I think so? There was also a lot of marble. All of the…temples…were made from marble, a lot of big houses, and the Grand Church was made with marble and gold. It was really big, about…" she gestured at High Tide, looming in the background. "About a fourth of the size?"
"It sounds like a remarkable temple, Ecclesia," replied Laena, though inwardly her thoughts grew pensive. Marble was found in Westeros only in the Vale and the island of Tarth, guarded zealously by their respective ruling families. The Eyrie of the Arryns had seven towers built of the rare stone, and many wealthy Houses displayed art pieces of marble in their keeps. But for a city to have such wealth they could craft houses and temples alike from it, especially if this Grand Church was as vast as Ecclesia claimed…the tapestry grew fantastical with each new tale. Oddly enough, she felt just as enchanted by the fact that half of their city was marble as with the fact the girl before her fought monsters out of legend.
A loud chattering snapped the lady out of her musings. Looking around, she saw that several smallfolk were heading deeper into the market. Upon seeing her guests' looks of curiosity, she gestured to them and followed the growing trail of onlookers. The group stopped at a square, where all manner of folk had congregated around the white fountain in the middle.
The guard moved to clear the way for them, but Laena bade him to stop. At his look, she gestured to the group that had set themselves up on the fountain's steps.
"It seems like we might hear this new song after all," she whispered.
Cleyton grumbled as his friend pulled him through the crowd. He'd just bought some trinket from a Lyseni merchant when people started moving away from the stalls. He didn't pay it much mind at first; there was always some sod who'd start arguing with a merchant over something or other, and those fights would usually draw a crowd before a watchman came to break it up. But 'what's a market without the odd squabble', as his Pa used to say.
"Don't look like a fly dropped in your stew Cley!" exclaimed Samwell, a trader's apprentice who'd dropped by his family's shop a few times. "We ain't in your butcher's shop no more, the flies like the fruit better!"
"Fuck off, Sam!" he bit back. "Pa wanted some spices for the new cuts he'd got. Wants to try selling them with the spices rubbed, says it'll draw in the richer merchantfolk."
Samwell nodded, even as he kept dragging his friend's stocky frame along. "I get ya, I've never seen old Rance dine without spiced meat. But there's dozens o' spice stalls here, they can wait!"
"I don't wanna get the scraps! Pa'd clip my ears if he found out! The fuck's so important you gotta pull me like a rope?"
The stout boy ignored him and kept dragging him deeper into the market. Cleyton was about to wrench his hand free when suddenly they stopped. A pair of minstrels was packed on the fountain square's steps, one that he recognized as having arrived some days earlier, no doubt pulled by the allure of merchant coin. An Essosi and a Westerosi - a Reacher or a Crownlander - were tuning their lutes and speaking to each other, an open hat in front of them to catch coin. Next to them was an assortment of strangely-dressed people, wearing white and blonde wigs. The square was packed to the brim, merchantfolk and smallfolk alike clamoring to claim good spots while munching on hot pies, nuts and the odd sweetroll.
"That's what got your britches twisted up?" he asked. "Heaps o' minstrels flock here from all over, what's so special 'bout them?"
Sam gave him a strange look. "Ya know all the rumors coming from High Tide, about Prince Daemon and a couple of foreigners?"
Cleyton slowly nodded. "Here and there. Pa don't like me listening to gossip, he says that's woman's work, but I catch some words. Seems like a pile o' grumpkin shite to me, they can't be true."
"There's been a song going around the taverns lately about that whole 'grumpkin shite', and I've heard those two sing it real good; good enough for innkeepers paying them to stay longer, even asking for mummers." The sounds of plucking lutes broke the conversation. "I think they're starting!"
Cley yelped as Sam grabbed his arm again, but in the end, he sighed and resigned himself to the show. Eh, his Pa would whack him behind the ears when he found out, but he was already there, so why fight it?
The mummers arranged themselves in front of the two minstrels as they began rapidly plucking their lutes and music filled the air, slowly drowning out the voices in the crowd.
"To the castle of High Tide
Sailed two strangers one fine day
By the Sea Snake's grace and kindness,
He invited them to stay
They were queer and they were quiet
one a boy, red-eyed and tanned
The other was bright and sunhair'd
With a hammer in her hand
A hammer in her hand!"
Two mummers - a boy and a girl, each dressed in a white and blonde wig, respectively - stood there gawking at the sky and pointed at various people, causing the crowd to laugh. The boy's face was painted with dirt and the girl held an obviously fake hammer, taller than her.
"It was late in the evening
And the Rogue Prince roamed the yard
Knights and lords all drew the weapons
Each one was struck down hard
'Are you all craven mummers?
The dragon needs a worthy meal!'
And down comes the strange lad
In his hand Valyrian steel
In his hand Valyrian steel!"
A third mummer, also donning a white wig and looking like someone shoved a stake up his arse, strode around the fountain holding a wooden sword.
"The two white-haired goodmen
Drew their blades and took a stance
Sorcery and swordsmanship
Met in a raging dance
An arc of flame, a twirl of sword,
The Prince poised for the kill,
And in that moment, it seemed as though
The gods froze the air still
Froze the air still…"
The boy and the older man wildly swung at each other with their wooden swords until the boy fell down and cowered before the older mummer with a sword pointed at him.
"A cry came from the rafters
The lords all cleared a path
The maid cried to the Prince, 'Cease!
Else you shall taste my wrath!'
The Rogue Prince howl'd a laugh
'My lady, surely you must jest!
This is a bout of men,
Do not make me harm a guest!
Do not make me harm a guest!"
The girl stomped up to the two and wildly gestured at them, stomping her foot like some petulant child.
"The fair lady blew a whistle
From the heavens down it came
The hammer with a dragon's head
Fell down, engulfed in flame!
Not a soul could hide a snigger
The Prince, he made a quip
But the lass stood tall and silent
With the hammer in her grip
The hammer in her grip!"
The girl then picked up her hammer and tried to twirl it, only for her to nearly fall over and elicit howling laughter from the crowd. The actor playing the girl did look ridiculous, Cleyton thought, with how absurdly large that fake hammer was - 'twas tall as her!
"Before the Rogue Prince uttered
Or spoke 'nother word,
The lady swung her hammer
And he flew as a bird!
The dragon, once so mighty
But his scales could not withstand,
And was trounced by the sunhair
With the hammer in her hand.
Hammer in her hand!"
A blow from the fake hammer struck the Daemon-mummer and he wildly stumbled back until he fell to the floor in a heap, making the crowd roar with a mixture of cheers and boos.
"Though the echoing hall was silent,
it did not stay that way for long.
For swiftly did us minstrels
bring this tale into a song!
So beware the quiet stranger,
make no sport of their demands,
'Else you might spy a maiden
with a hammer in her hand.
A hammer in her hand!"
The player strummed the last notes of the song, and the moment he fell silent, the crowd burst into applause. Sam was clapping like mad, his face lit up like the time he saw a chunk of spiced meat in the shop.
"That was amazing! I told you, didn't I?"
Cley nodded as he joined in the applause. "Never heard a tune like tha'. Costumes were good. Ya think all that really happened?"
"That's what I've been hearing." The crowd had begun flinging coins into the hat as the troupe bowed, with cheers and requests filling the air.
"Best troupe this side of the Narrow Sea! Told ya 'twas worth the travel!"
"Sing 'The Bear and the Maiden Fair'!"
"They sang that last time! 'Bessa the Barmaid!'"
"Hey! That's my foot, get off!"
"Did ya see them in High Tide? Was the hammer as big as a man?"
"I heard the boy breathed fire!"
"Ya also heard your wife talking to the ghost of Maegor the Cruel, sod off!"
Eventually, Cley grunted and grabbed Sam's arm. "Come on, Da's already gonna tan my hide so best I get it over with." Ignoring his friend's complaints he pulled him back into the streets when a flash of silver caught his eye. He turned and froze at the sight of a Velaryon lady standing behind a stall and between two guards, applauding with the crowd. He'd only seen the Lady Rhaenys once, when she visited the town with her husband the Sea Snake. There was a big procession and his Da took him to see it. The guards ere all in steel, baring the seahorse on their shields. Lord Corlys and the Lady Rhaenys all rode by and waved at the smallfolk, like from the stories he heard of Old Valyria. The lady before him now was younger, but he couldn't mistake her for anyone else. It had to be their daughter, Lady Laena.
"Hey, what's wrong?" He ignored Sam as he kept staring, entranced by the lady's beauty. The Rogue Prince must have the luck of the gods to have such a beauty for a wive. He would've kept staring if it wasn't for someone peering from behind the lady's guards.
"Seven be damned…"
The very subjects of the song were looking at the square. Cley had never seen stranger-looking folk, except maybe the time an Ibbenese whaler made a stop a few years ago. The boy did look as though a dragon hatched him.
The lady turned to the pair and spoke to them, though the words were too faint for him to hear. Whatever the words were, they soon headed back into the streets.
"Sam?"
"Yeah?"
"I think you were right about those rumors."
"Huh…" by the way his friend was trembling, he looked one step away from running after the foreigners, his head be damned. So he'd better drag him away before his head was on the block.
'Ah, but wait till the other boys hear about this!' he thought. 'They'll never believe me!'
"I liked the music, Lady Laena, but…"
"I understand. Don't worry, I'll write down a translation for you."
The girl thanked her as they headed out of the market, mounted. The group made an assortment of purchases, mainly more trinkets and small bags of spices. Laena planned on sending her share to the cooks, though she had no idea why her guests asked for some. Did they wish to try them on their own?
"Is something wrong, Albaz?"
Laena turned to the boy, who stared in the market's direction with a troubled look. "I liked the music too…but the people there didn't look like us at all."
"They were mummers; mere performers," Laena said. "They mock all the people, highborn or not, whom they play. There is no personal matter with them."
'I do admit, I didn't expect the song to be this popular. I've no doubt we shall hear it more often in High Tide's halls. I'll tell Father, but he's as likely to ban it as he is to allow it.'
The streets grew wider in berth, even as people kept stopping and bowing to them. The hustle and bustle of the market was well-heard, but the crowd's density had considerably thinned. The houses still retained their red-topped look, though they bore more signs of wear and tear.
"Did you attend mummer's plays in your homeland, Lady Ecclesia?" the lady asked as she smoothed her dress. The girl scratched the side of her head and hummed.
"We had some plays…sometimes I played in them. They were all stories about the Saints and the monsters they slew."
"Ah, and your part was that of a saint?"
"I played as a monster one time!" she chirped. "A big snake dragon who could scream so hard he shattered rocks!" she mock-roared and clawed the air, eliciting giggles from both her and Albaz.
"I am sure you were splendid in your roles. I shall take my daughters with me next time, they'll be thrilled to see a show." she then gestured to the city behind them. "So, is Spicetown to your liking?"
"Mm-hmm! Lots of food and neat things!" replied Ecclesia.
"Can we come here again?" asked Albaz, a glint of eagerness in his open eye. Laena giggled behind her hand; despite their age, they behaved at times like her daughters, or even herself years past. It was a relaxing change of place, not having to guard her actions from those outside her family. In King's Landing, every action could be a blade against you, a dance of words and veiled barbs, in contrast to the duels of the men. As her mother and septa oft said, 'Courtesy is a lady's armor, and words her weapons.'
Those two…they had no such desire, at least none that she could see. They were guarded, true, but that was to be expected, but they had this air of innocence to them. Not that they weren't dangerous - if anything, she'd bet a gold dragon Lady Ecclesia would strongly object to her mother's words.
"I'm sure Father wouldn't mind another trip. But who says we're done?" Their smiles grew wider as Laena gestured to a spot beyond the houses. "There's this magnificent tree on the edge of the town, it provides quite a view to the coast. I think some tranquility would do us good before we return to High Tide."
They nodded with enthusiasm and the group set off. But they had not made it past the first houses when one of the guards swiftly turned around.
"Halt! State your business!"
A page, dressed in white suits bearing the seahorse, stopped and panted. "My..my lady…" he said between breaths. "I have an…urgent missive…from Lord Velaryon." He got on one knee and held out a scroll.
Laena frowned. "What's it say?" More importantly, how urgent was it if her father didn't wait for her to return?
The guard took the scroll from the pudgy boy and opened it. "It says you must return with your guests to High Tide at once. All members of House Velaryon on Driftmark are called to assemble by the evening before his Lordship."
Laena's mind whirled. A full call of House Velaryon? That could only mean two things. The first was that they were at war; unlikely, since the Triarchy was smashed by Daemon and her kin. "Did something happen?"
"It's right here, my lady." The guard looked at the bottom of the scroll and she saw him stiffen. "It's…the king, my lady." And that was the second reason. "He is due to visit High Tide within the next two days, along with the royal family. All of Driftmark must assemble to showcase their strength and unity before the Crown."
Laena's eyes slowly drifted to the two children, who gave the whole scene a look of confusion. So, word had gotten out. With that song, it was only a matter of time.
'It looks like you and Albaz will not be immune to the Great Game after all, Lady Ecclesia,' Laena thought. 'I pray that you survive. Although…something tells me I shouldn't just be directing that sentiment to you.'
Ta-da! I'm back!
This chapter was a pain in the you-know-what to pull out! I struggled with every step, but I did it!
I also wrote my first song, inspired by a certain Western tune (whoever guesses first gets a digital cookie!), with the help of the amazing laughingnell, writer of "The Winter of Widows", an amazing ASOIAF SI into a post-Dance Riverlands.
I'm a member of the Shiro's Gaming Omniverse Discord (discord . gg/wd3tUYWVCd.) server and the Emerald Library (discord . gg/elibrary). If you want to hop over and chat, either about this story or anything else, feel free! I also have my own server Drake's Lair, at (discord . gg/2bD4UgyyPA).
If you enjoyed this story, check out my other ones and look at my profile for challenges!
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