Look! Snakes in Power – Joy in the Tower
It seemed to Dyanna that a very long period of time had passed before some semblance of calm found its way to the chamber – but when she looked out, the moon had barely moved from its earlier place. "What are you doing here?" she asked and everyone fell silent, straining to hear the answer.
Maekar Targaryen didn't provide one. The young Kingsguard – he could not be more than twenty – opened his mouth but Maekar shook his head and he closed it back. Surprise, surprise.
"If you don't start talking," she said threateningly, " we will-" Her voice faded. They would do what?
He grinned. He had seen her predicament. Just don't say it, just don't say it, just don't say it…
No such luck though.
"I know, I know, you'll throw me into the sea," he said, too carelessly for her taste.
No. Of course he said it and a few people laughed at her expense. The git! No wonder she had never liked him, Dyanna thought gruffly.
He noticed her rage and grinned at her again. At this point, Dyanna started contemplating throwing him in the sea quite for real. Unfortunately, no one would help her, even Ultor. And she could not drag the Prince to the sea on her own. Although not too tall, he was a giant compared to her. She could not even push him from the Palestone Sword if he chose not to go down.
"I'll do something worse," she said in a sudden burst of inspiration. "I'll write to Her Grace with the news of your creeping here!"
It lasted only a fraction of a moment but he lost some of his damned arrogance. He recovered it almost immediately, but anyway, it was Dyanna's turn to grin.
"I'll tell you what I am doing here," Maekar announced abruptly and before everyone started getting excited, he cut the euphoria in the root. "Only you the two Daynes and Myles Blackmont can hear."
There were protesting cries all over the room but he didn't seem impressed. He's doing it on purpose, Dyanna realized. Out of spite.
"Myles isn't here," Ultor said.
"But he isn't far away, is he? I remember the bunch of you always holding together."
"Like a pack of hounds," Dyanna confirmed. And this prince was now trying to steal their bone, and she disliked him for this almost as much as she disliked him because of the fact that he had felt pressed to express his opinion on her eating habits.
She was prepared to keep insisting but Ultor had other ideas. "I'll bring him here," he promised and looked at the rest of them. "Come on. Let's get out of here."
Dyanna crossed her arms across her chest and then immediately felt uncomfortable when more than one eye was drawn to her chest area. She was still getting used to the breastband and the looks did not help. "I am not going anywhere," she announced. "Someone has to stay with them until you return."
All of a sudden, Maekar looked like a better choice because he would never in a thousand of years think of looking at her this way. And besides, she didn't trust him one bit not to influence anyone who might stay guarding him into releasing him. He had quite the forceful personality.
Ultor did not protest and indeed, even stifled the protests of some of the others, so just a little later, they were left alone – Dyanna and the two captives. She looked around for a chair and found none, save for the footstools the uninvited guests were tied to. But there was a small niche in the wall – rather, a seat carved in the stone, so she took it.
"So, why are you here?" she finally asked.
Maekar didn't reply and the Kingsguard wouldn't if the Prince clearly did not want to. Of course Maekar wouldn't say anything: she had decided to keep him a prisoner for a little longer just out of spite, so he was keeping her in the dark for a little longer out of the same. Those two get each other so well, Ronald Crakehall thought and chuckled, drawing two pairs of disgruntled eyes to himself.
"I'll clean your wounds," Dyanna finally said.
"That's very kind of you," Maekar said mockingly and made a show of looking around. "Perhaps you have some water handy?"
She didn't so they stayed as they were, blood and everything, until the echo of hooves brought them all to attention. Finally, Dyanna thought but when steps started clambering on the staircase, the Kingsguard's expression changed.
"Release us, quick!" he said urgently. "Those aren't your people."
Now that he said it, Dyanna realized that the steps were too heavy. She unsheathed her dagger and barely had the time to cut their ropes before the brigand they had been trying to find found them.
"Is there a town nearby?" Maekar asked in a low voice as soon as they were left alone near the small fire they had been allowed. Ser Ronald was kept away from them – the brigands had wisely decided that having all three captives together was a bad idea. Now, he moved closer to her and they huddled together for warmth under the two cloaks. In the Red Mountains, night was an icy and dangerous thing, much like it was in the desert.
Dyanna slid an arm around his waist and shook her head against his shoulder. "There isn't even a bloody hamlet," she murmured back and he sighed, disappointed. His next question, however, took her aback.
"Do you listen to your father's men-at-arms and write their curses down to use them?" He sounded genuinely curious and Dyanna was glad that he could not see her furious blush. But no, it was a good thing that from time to time, he felt the need to try and humiliate her. After all, they'd get back to being enemies as soon as they got away from here. Their accord was just… temporary.
"Be careful," she warned but it was only his words that she meant. There was no danger in his accent revealing his identity that they kept hidden. He had slipped into the Dornish drawl from the very first moment so easily that Dyanna had actually started wondering if that was his true tone. "Why are you asking me about towns?" she whispered. "Are you hoping to escape?"
He moved a little, settling behind her. She leaned her head against his shoulder and he said, "The two of us have no intention of staying here. You might have changed your mind but we hadn't."
If it wasn't so cold, Dyanna would have turned back to glare at him. Instead, she tried to remember a settlement here and failed. Only shepherds and goatherds kept semi-permanent wooden houses here – but at this time of the year and with the news of the brigands having spread around quickly, the settlements would be abandoned.
As if trying to prove her wrong, somewhere far away a sheep started bleating. Shut up, Dyanna thought to it. Shut up before they come to find and slaughter you for food. But the sheep was not too bright. So what? Am I overly bright myself? I did land myself here, in the hands of these rogues. Her teeth started clattering.
"Come here," Maekar murmured, holding her closer yet. She took his hands and pressed them around her shoulders. It was strange how warm they were, how warm he was in his entirety. For all his coldness and unpleasantness, he just radiated heat and she inclined her head and blew on his fingers in a sudden urge to give him back some of the warmth she was receiving. "You aren't going to get sick, are you?"
"No," she replied, rubbing her hands together.
One of the men approached and handed them a piece of meat, so hard that Dyanna would have broken her teeth on it. But they had learned to soak it into the water they were given so they could chew it. As usual, Maekar wanted her to have the bigger part but she was adamant that they shared equally.
"Your castellan wrote to Summerhall," he suddenly said when they tried it and found that it was almost ready.
That was so unexpected that she blinked in surprise. "What?"
"He wanted my brother's help but Baelor had to leave suddenly. Troubles in the Stormlands. So he left Ser Roland to deal with the matter of the brigands. He was on his way to meet with your man."
The brigands who were now dealing with them, although they had no idea who they had put their hands on. To them, Maekar was Ultor Dayne – the first lie Dyanna had been able to think of that could actually work. "But why did he take you along?"
He sighed. "Because I ordered him to," he said. "What, did you think he was enjoying having me in those bandit-ridden passes?"
"I think," she said slowly, "that what you did was a madness worthy of your brother – and look where it brought us!"
The arms around her shoulders tensed, squeezing her hard. His voice was low but cutting, "As far as Rhaegel is concerned, you'd better watch your mouth, Dayne."
Pride did not let her say that she had not been thinking it as a slight against his brother, although she truly hadn't. But why was he so angry at just being told the truth? Talking to the trees and claiming to be watching a stone grow were not actions of someone who was not mad – and she had seen Prince Rhaegel do both.
"What are we going to do?" she asked in a whisper. "The things they do to everyone who passes…"
He squeezed her harder but this time, it wasn't out of anger. It was strangely soothing. Where had they found themselves out of childlike grudges and pride! "We'll wait for the right moment," he said, although the right moment looked harder and harder to chance by and the possibility of him being revealed for who he was rose with every passing day. "For now, try to memorize everything about their routine, their lairs… They will be sorry for ever deciding to disrupt the peace in those lands, I promise you."
She gave a little sigh and tried to think of the safety of Starfall, the nearness of those she loved and the softness of her own bed.
"Don't go to sleep," Maekar said sharply. "We have a visitor."
She was about to bolt up but he kept her firmly down – without much effort, it seemed. But the Vulture King did not deign to visit them tonight – much to Dyanna's relief. The first attack she had witnessed, a raid over a caravan of goods, an affair of blood and doomed resistance had cured her of any romantic notions she might have secretly entertained about the brigands – or their handsome leader.
They had been looking for the three missing people for more than two weeks. It had taken a lot of coercion and convincing to make Ultor admit who the other two people who had disappeared with Dyanna were – and when Davos Dayne heard it, for a short moment he decided to pretend that he hadn't. "So, it isn't just your sister who has disappeared – but the King's son as well?"
Ultor had nodded, utterly miserable.
By the state of the tower the boys had directed them to, it was clear that there had been a fight. Fortunately, the traces of blood had not been abundant enough to indicate a blood loss significant enough to place anyone's life in danger but that was no guarantee about the severity of the wounds.
To make things worse, the King who had made his progress to Summerhall had arrived for a sudden and very unwelcome visit, furious with his young Kingsguard, his own son and… Ser Rodar, for not raising the alarm when Ronald Crakehall hadn't come.
"When I see those two again…" he now said angrily.
The Queen just looked at him and sighed. "Then what? You know as well as I do that unless we tell Ser Roland that he isn't obliged to obey all of Maekar's commands, he will do so. And we haven't told him any such thing."
"Yes," Daeron agreed. "Sweet Seven above, why didn't I have this boy whipped every day until he knew better!"
Because Maekar was usually one of those who did know better? Mariah didn't quite say it but she was sure this was the reason. Maekar was a reasonable one, with a good head on his shoulders, appropriate behavior, and more often than not he was above using his station to make others do things they disliked.
But not always. And when he didn't know any better, the consequences tended to be really bad ones. Mariah's eyes went to the mountains, so beautiful and so deadly, so well-known and so unknown. She did her best to ignore the women who were exchanging bits of what they knew about the brigands. In all honesty, she didn't care about the Vulture King. She wanted her son back.
It was the early morning of the third day of the royal visit when the message came, brought over by a peasant who was so scared that he didn't even wait for the sour red the servants wanted to give him in the kitchen. Lord Dayne immediately ordered to have him caught up with for questioning and while the men were busy doing so, he went to the King, quite reluctant and very worried.
Without losing time with questions, Daeron reached out and took the ruffled piece of parchment.
Your son and daughter are in my hands. Stop your attempts to find us. If not, they will die.
Daeron's first reaction was relief. No one had died. His next thought was, For now!
Mariah snatched the parchment from him and closed her eyes.
"That's what he thinks," Rhaegel said, his voice perfectly calm, as he stepped back from having read over his mother's shoulder. "Maekar can always reveal who he is. They'll be utter fools to do something to him."
"But are they going to believe him?" Mariah asked nervously and the boy shrugged.
"I'd say they'll feel obliged to check the information," he said. "I wouldn't worry if I were you. That's Maekar, Mother. He can look after himself."
Mariah didn't look convinced and then Rhaegel took her hands in his own and spoke firmly, "Look, when has he not come out in one piece? Didn't he suffer the speckled monster that leaves the survivors utterly disfigured with nothing more than a few faint scars? In the night he opened his eyes after the maesters had all but doomed him, didn't we watch seven stars fall?"
Daeron almost shivered, not wanting to remember the agonizing week before that night. He wondered if Rhaegel truly believed what he was saying or if he was just trying to calm his mother down. Either way, that was one of the moments when madness stepped away and what Rhaegel might have been shone through – someone who understood people and the torment of their soul, a good man in the making. Was he touched by prophecy as well as unsound mind? Daeron did not know but before he turned to Lord Dayne to discuss this new turn of events, he thought that it was Rhaegel he wanted to believe.
"Five thousand dragons, I say."
"Do you think he can gather this much?"
Dyanna listened intently. It was her own fate that the men were arguing about! To her irritation, Maekar looked more interested in the two men's demeanor, the fact that they seemed to show intense dislike for each other, had been since Dyanna had first seen them. She turned her head towards them but it did not help her hear better, only drew her neck away from the cloak and Maekar's warmth, so she snuggled back and he wrapped his arms around her. To her relief, he avoided her chest area studiously as he leaned back against the wide trunk.
"Go to sleep," he said roughly. "I expect it'll be a long trip tomorrow."
She closed her eyes and tried to follow through but after a while, the faint echo of footsteps made her open them back.
"What do you want?" Maekar asked, turning to the silhouette that appeared in front of them.
The figure moved behind the tree; surprised, Dyanna realized that he seemed to be hiding from the guards watching the wrong perimeter.
"I know who you are," a young voice whispered. "Your Grace."
Maekar startled but lost no time asking how he knew. "What do you want?" he said again and as the young brigand started laying out his demands, Dyanna tried to remember where she knew him from.
It was the urgent whispers that woke her up this morning, the second one of their escape. Or perhaps it was the distinct coolness in her chest – pronounced but not unpleasantly cold, a nice weight indeed. In the brief moment between sleep and wakefulness, she was lazy and without a care in the world, admiring the leaves in red and gold right above her head.
"Don't move, Dayne, please," Maekar said from somewhere at her left.
She froze. Up to this moment, he had never said please to her. And he had certainly not sounded so calm, so pointedly calm. She didn't move a muscle but she slowly opened her eyes and saw a part of him close to her. And then, her eyes moved to the centre, down her own body, and she saw the black eyes, the raised head, the little horn that could not be mistaken.
"Step aside, Your Grace!" Ser Ronald spoke sharply. "It might be poisonous."
Might be? It is! In this moment of utter paralysis, Dyanna didn't know what to do. Fear gripped her heart so tight, in a fist so huge that it should have thrown the snake far away, high in the air. Later, Dyanna would be surprised that it didn't.
"Do not move," Maekar said again and then, in a flash of a movement so quick that Dyanna wasn't even sure what happened, the snake hissed and writhed between his fingers. He tossed it as far away as he could, and looked at Dyanna. "Rise," he said, his face contorted in pain, but she had started moving almost before he spoke. Her eyes went all over his forearm in quick worry and went wide. She grabbed the skin around the punctures and squeezed.
"Did it bite you?" There was panic in the Kingsguard voice.
Dyanna squeezed again, hard, careful to take skin from around the punctures. Her eyes roamed over them, desperate to find others, but there were only two.
"I'm fine," Maekar said grimly. "No panic if you please. We'd better watch out. This one gave me all that it had but it might have comrades over here."
His self-control amazed and angered Dyanna at the same time. He was a Northerner. He should be screaming in horror or at least look as helpless as his guard did!
Muddy drops started trickling onto the grass. She was getting somewhere! But the red drops she had been waiting for did not come. Dyanna bit her lips and then quickly, without giving herself time to think, leaned her mouth to the wounds.
Maekar pushed her away. "What are you doing?" he demanded.
Dyanna inclined her head and spat. Red! Without listening to his protests, she sucked again and this time, the liquid that came out was almost entirely scarlet. The third suck yielded only clear blood, shining glorious in the glow of the rising sun.
"I am starting to realize the truth," Maekar murmured. "You're mad, pure and simple."
She cut a piece of her cloak with the dagger she had been given at their flight and bandaged the wounds tight.
"Come on," he said. "Let's go."
"Perhaps it wasn't a poisonous one," Ser Ronald whispered hopefully as they made their way, keeping the shadows of the canopy of tree crowns.
But both Dyanna and Maekar knew it was.
"We can be at Kingsgrave in less than a day," Dyanna said nervously. Usually, when someone of Maekar's height and built got the antidote in seven or eight hours, there would be no long lasting damages. With some luck, he could win another hour or two because he seemed to be of extremely strong constitution and she had squeezed as much venom as possible. But longer than that? "Do you think you can… hold on until then?"
He gave her a grim look. "I sure intend to try."
They almost made it. Despite the heavy breathing, the dizzying spells, the pain at the nearest touch anywhere on Maekar's skin, they negotiated the bulk of the distance separating them from Kingsgrave before the sun set. For a while, Dyanna thought that the bite was not one of the most dangerous ones, although the throbbing in her own head and the urge to vomit told her something else when snake poison should have little to no effect if taken by mouth. But when his lips turned white and peeling, when he started throwing up and couldn't keep standing for long, she knew that they were in trouble.
"We need to stop," she said when the sun started sinking behind the blue mountain tops. "He needs to lie down without motion."
The young Kingsguard looked doubtful as he was holding a branch out of their way. "It's a dose of antidote that he needs. Look at him!"
"Yes," Dyanna agreed. "Look at him! Soon, he'll be unable to keep standing at all. We'll have to carry him. We'll never make it to the castle anyway. Better that we stop and take care of him with what we have."
He angrily stepped over something that could have been another snake in the shadows of copses but was indeed just a slender branch. "Here? It's so cold – and we might wake up to another snake as well!"
"Not likely," Maekar said. "How many snakes in a habit of crawling on people's chests do you think this mountain can contain?" he asked, or at least they thought he asked because his speech was getting affected as well. He lurched forward dangerously and Ser Ronald barely managed to catch him.
At the end, Dyanna prevailed and brought them to the place she had in mind – an old dilapidated tower where bats and spiders did not seem pleased of the company. But there was a stream nearby, as could be expected, and after making sure that the old wooden bucket wouldn't fall apart in her hands, she sent Ser Roland to fill it. Meanwhile, she glowered at Maekar, ordering him to stand upright or lean against the wall if he must but not lie down in the decades of dust that had gathered all over the floors and beds. Then, at a second thought, she ducked under his arm to keep him upright because fever was overcoming him. They had barely made the short distance from the spot they had made the decision at to here.
She had no experience with manual tasks but if servants could deal with them many times a day, every day, how hard could it be? She started sweeping the beds and floors with old rugs that she dug from the pantry and wet in the bucket – effectively rendering it useless for cooling Maekar down with so Ser Roland had to go and fill another bucket, - causing such a cloud of dust in the room that all three of them started coughing.
"Lay down," Dyanna said when the dust settled enough for her to redo the job, this time – successfully. "And drink."
Lots of water seemed to be one of the things that helped with venomous bites, although Dyanna couldn't remember the exact way it worked. She was pretty sure it wasn't because it would help dilute the poison. But when she took the bandage off and saw just how swollen his upper arm was, she remembered. Too many liquids from the blood going into the bloat, Maester Celdar had said. Thickening of the blood in the rest of the body. Unfortunately, when they gave Maekar water, he proved that the maester was right about something else as well – he almost immediately threw it up.
Still, they had no choice but keep trying. He had made it this far, hadn't he?
"For how long have we been there?" he asked, opening his eyes when the moment the sun was going down in a glorious display of emeralds and rubies coated with gold, so different from the golden tips crowning the waves the moment it sank at Starfall.
Dyanna looked up from the window she was sitting at, feeling tremendous relief. "Three days. You've had a fever." She rose and went to touch his forehead. He tried to swat her hand away and she knew that despite having overcome the worst of the fever, he had not made a full recovery – his skin was still painful to the touch.
He frowned and tried to remember. "The viper."
She nodded. "You saved my life. I could not shake it off without scaring it into biting… and there was no way that I would have made it to here. Or anywhere."
He gave her a critical look. "Probably," he agreed, matter-of-factly. "With this gaunt little body and frail thighs of yours, the poison would have taken you in a few hours."
Dyanna could say that he had not meant to offend but that was how she felt. She had already started turning into a woman and boys had started staring at her. No one thought she was gaunt – no one but this Prince who didn't even think twice of voicing his unflattering opinion. Was this how boys of high birth were raised north? And was she really frail of form? She got angry with herself for letting him provoke her like this. She was beautiful. She was. "Well, not all of us can be built like bloody rocks," she snapped, and he blinked.
"Did I offend you?" Maekar looked genuinely confused. It's a good thing that he's a king's son, Dyanna thought, else no woman would ever take him, as handsome as he is. No woman in her sound mind would want to live with him. "That was not my intent."
It just got better and better. No apology, no assurance that he hadn't meant that.
"Oh just shut up!" she snapped and went to cool him down, drawing some little pleasure from the way he winced at the touch. And if she pressed harder from time to time, well, that was just a jerk of hands and nothing more.
"What's this place?" he finally asked when he was sure that he could control his voice.
"A tower in the Prince's Pass," Dyanna said shortly. "An abandoned one."
"Not quite," he murmured, staring over her shoulder at the display of black wings that suddenly took out whatever dim whisper of light entered through the window after twilight. By now, Dyanna had gotten used to the screeches of the bats but he scowled, the sound clearly hurting him. Ser Ronald went to close the shutters and light the torches – ouch, he really should have done it the other way around, as Dyanna thought.
"In a day or two," she said, "you'll be recovered enough to move around, I expect."
"And then we can go," Maekar agreed readily. "I have to return you to Starfall, after all."
Dyanna pursed her lips. As little as she cherished the thought of traveling with him again, she wasn't stupid enough to refuse. "We're close to Kingsgrave," she said. "We can go there and part ways. You'll go back to Summerhall, and they'll see me off home."
Where she would meet what would be undoubtedly the worst punishment in her young life. She decided that she wouldn't think of that now.
"What are you doing?" she exclaimed suddenly. "You should not go to sleep."
"Those are just superstitions," Maekar replied but without a bite. That worried Dyanna more than his actual drowsiness. He was still not out of danger for some late effects of the venom. Hadn't it taken him almost a day to show the symptoms of a dangerous bite? She had actually started thinking that they had gotten lucky. "So, we're leaving in two days," he said.
"Not quite," the Kingsguard interrupted and while Dyanna was pleased that they wouldn't be moving the Prince in a weakened state – moving around was not moving to a castle, by foot at that – the thought of spending time with him when he was of sane mind was not a nice one. She liked him better feverish, although she did not want him to have fever.
Maekar looked dejected but sound reasoning prevailed. "How long?" he asked. "How much longer will we have to stay here?"
"Two more days, at least," Ser Ronald replied grimly, to both his young charges' collective horror.
"Two days!" Dyanna gasped and then went quiet, looking at Maekar and assessing his state.
"What a joyous place that will be," he stated sarcastically, grimacing because the aftereffects of the venom were still going strong. "The Tower of Joy."
"The Tower of Horror, rather!" Dyanna retaliated. And then, "No! Don't go to sleep! Don't you dare die on me, you… dragon!"
But he was already turning to his side, ignoring her – indeed, Dyanna had the feeling that he had forced himself not to hear her. She dropped the wet cloth back into the bucket, quite proud that she had not tossed it, and returned to her chair, ignoring the pain that she had no way of knowing would haunt her till the rest of her life, just from time to time, all of a sudden, cold and piercing – a pain in her breast, a pain right where the snake had lain.
It was a bright, brilliant morning when the boat left them on the beach. Dyanna was so impatient that she barely waited for the men to drop anchor. Really, she could row better, despite being so young and gaunt.
To her surprise, Maekar looked oddly reluctant to disembark. She immediately prepared for something bad to occur. Just at their boarding, he had looked as eager to get rid of her as she was to get rid of him.
"What?" she asked. "What it is?"
"Looks like the King is here," he said darkly, pointing at the banners atop the towers.
Dyanna bit her lip, suddenly gleeful that she wouldn't be the only one to get a scolding. "Come on," she invited cheerfully and jumped off the boat. Her two companions followed with remarkably less enthusiasm.
As if to prove Maekar right, the first person they encountered in the bailey was Prince Rhaegel who whooped with joy and grabbed him in a tight embrace, paying no attention to his attire… or smell.
"Where is everyone?" Maekar asked. "I don't want to face Mother looking like this."
Dyanna had to admit that they were quite the sight. On their way here, they had encountered some peasants ready to defend their property with all they had… The sight of the Targaryen prince being chased off by a peasant woman with a pitchfork and a horde of angry chickens was something Dyanna would cherish till the end of her days. But she had to admit that she didn't want to tell anyone else about it, especially the part when she had started throwing manure to defend herself. Her lady mother would never find herself in such a ridiculous predicament, so why had she?
Rhaegel made a face. "Everyone is in the summer solar," he had and Dyanna mimicked his expression. That meant that everyone chancing by the window would see them crossing the inner yard.
"They're drawing me a bath," Rhaegel said. "You can use it."
Maekar nodded gratefully.
In the yard, Dyanna looked up and exhaled, seeing no one behind the window. But they had barely made their way past the great hall, down the corridor that would lead to the three branches of stairs to the upper floors when the opening of a door froze her where she was.
"Where have you been?" the voice she wanted least to hear exclaimed. For now, there was a note of deep relief to it but as soon as he made sure that she was fine, anger would take its place.
All of a sudden, she found herself pushed behind Rhaegel and heard him address her father, "Lady Dyanna is exhausted, my lord. Surely you'd let her have a bath and break her fast before you start questioning her?"
Lord Dayne hesitated. That was his house but one did not refuse a prince.
Dyanna kept hiding behind Rhaegel's back, already feeling remorseful because she had only entertained ugly thoughts about him. He had immediately tried to help her and she would never allow rumours about him in her presence, ever again.
When he turned back and whispered that it was time to make herself scarce, she ran upstairs without looking back to see who was doing what. But she could not help but hear a voice exclaim, "At last!"
And then, Maekar. "Well, yes… I hope you weren't too worried."
"Not at all," the King replied, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "No, I think it's not out of order at all that you and Ser Ronald were both missing from Summerhall at our arrival, that no one had any idea where you were, that you managed to get yourselves caught by a band of children, that then you proceeded to land yourself straight into this rebel's hands…"
Despite his obvious anger he had not raised his voice for a moment, so Dyanna couldn't hear the end of the phrase even if she stayed in the curving corridor, so she ran for her chamber, eliciting a gasp from a maidservant and an overturned bucket from another. The second one was near the staircase, so the highborn people down had to make a few quick steps away to avoid being splashed with dirty water.
"It wasn't like this," Maekar tried to explain. "Nothing was like this."
Daeron came near, had a good look at him and scowled at the smell of him. "Are you well?" he asked; relieved, Maekar realized that the grime on his face successfully masked his pallor.
"Yes," he replied and Daeron nodded.
"Upstairs, both of you," he ordered.
In Rhaegel's chamber, he looked at the full bathtub and tried the water. "Not hot enough for your liking but it will do," he said.
Maekar laughed. "Brother, I haven't had a bath in so long that I am not sure I have a liking anymore," he said and scowled.
"Leave it to me," Rhaegel said and tried to take off the hardened clothes.
"Just cut them off me," Maekar said impatiently. "The washerwomen will sing your praises."
At the sight of the arm that was still twice its size, Rhaegel gasped. "What happened?"
"A viper," Maekar replied and submerged himself under the water with a sigh of delight.
"Careful," Rhaegel warned. "Do not swallow."
Maekar didn't even look down to see just how brown the water was turning. Rhaegel summoned a servant to order another bath and started washing his brother's hair. "No," he said when Maekar tried to swat him away. "Do you think you can use this hand to wash yourself thoroughly? Now, tell me about the viper. Why aren't you dead?"
"Because the foolish girl sucked the poison from the wounds. Must have had some wounds in the inner side of her cheeks or something because she didn't look good. Not that she made trouble ot something. She's, in fact, quite tough."
Despite the dismissive words, Rhaegel caught something like a proprietorial pride but decided against commenting. "And quite lovely," he added.
Maekar turned his head to look at him. "Do you think so?" He sounded surprised which forced Rhaegel to go into defense.
"If you like such white skin and black hair," he said.
"And do you?" Maekar asked, scrubbing the dirt off his skin or rather, scrubbing his skin off with the dirt.
"Alys won't let me."
Maekar looked again at him in mock alarm. "Please don't leave Alys for this one! If I never see her again, it'll be too soon."
His brother's silence should have warned him that Rhaegel knew something Maekar was still unaware of. It should have. But it didn't.