That night, Jaehaerys Targaryen dreamed of nothing, and come morning, they rose at the break of dawn to continue on. There were two dozen or so men with the three knights, Jae observed - many of them the last survivors of his mother's household guard. When we were in Lys, they numbered fifty. Now none but ten remained; the rest were Lysene sellswords Cossenello had hired for the voyage home. There had been more of them too… before the pirates attacked.
They formed a column, four men abreast, six lines long. Ser Edric led the march. Ser Merrik (who carried Jaehaerys' sick brother) and Rhaena stood in the middle of the group, protected on all sides. Ser William Selmy, Jaehaerys, and two household guards took up the rear. Before, Ser William would have never let me stand with him like this. But the boy knew they needed every able-bodied warrior for the journey home. He could no longer sit in the middle of the pack, to be protected like his brother and sister. I am nearly a man grown, not a boy. I should have a sword in my hand, like the rest of them.
A sword he did have, but he kept it sheathed as the group trudged on, through the mud and tangled roots and tightening forest. Ser Edric and a few of the guards at the front of the column had their swords drawn, to cut a path through the dense jungle. The day wore on, and soon everyone was slicked with sweat, the mere act of walking causing the men to breathe hard and diminish their pace. The weight of their armor, especially for Ser Merrik and Ser William, who wore full plate, was astonishing - too much for Jae to comprehend. He didn't know how they were doing it.
They paused only infrequently, to pass around their dwindling sacks of water. Soon we will have to drink of the river, Jaehaerys knew. That would spell certain doom; he had been forced to do that, along with all of the other slaves in Mudtown, and it had made him sicker than he had ever been.
The morning turned to noon, and the heat grew as stifling and suffocating as Jaehaerys had ever known. His curiosity soon got the best of him, and Jae began to question his sworn shield about what had happened to the men since that fateful night on the Summer Sea. The Quickfoot was silent for a while, but finally he spoke in a hushed tone, recounting to Jaehaerys the tale of how he and the crew had put the fires out on the Firewind with seawater, how they had suffered massive casualties not only to the pirates, but to the flames. The next morning, the ship still smoking, Cossenello had set off towards the Basilisk Isles, where he expected the pirates to be taking the Targaryen children. The Firewind was a slow ship by design, and being partially burned with more than half its crew dead or dying, did not help matters. It had taken them an extra week to reach the Isles, and they had burned through many of their supplies on the way. Ser William had to lower his voice when he spoke of them slitting the throats of several grievously wounded men to lower the number of mouths they had to feed. By the time the Firewind limped into port on the Isle of Flies, the crew had eaten every bit of provisions they had stocked for the return to Westeros, and were dangerously close to eating anything they could find - including one another.
"Thankfully, it never came to that," said the knight. "But we were close. Then we found an unsuspecting slaver's ship at dock, killed its crew, and took it for our own. Since then, we've been scouting the islands looking for any sign of you. We followed a lead from a slaver on Talon who thought he'd seen you, but that led us nowhere. We eventually came to the mainland simply out of desperation - our last hope was to check the slave towns on Sothoryos to see if you were there."
"But how did you find us? There are probably thousands of slaves in Mudtown."
"Aye, wasn't an easy thing, that. We were here three days before Merrik thought he spotted your sister down by the river doing laundry. We split the group up, having them hide in the bushes, shadowing the slave groups to see if they could find any of you. Yesterday, I saw you with mine own eyes." The knight's voice trembled and he paused for several moments before continuing. "I called for you, but I didn't chance more than a whisper, not with all those guards around you. I couldn't risk them maiming or killing you.
"We were planning on storming the town at night, to break you out of those pens while the pirates slept. It just so happened that a guard spotted you and Rhaena out on your own… and you know the rest."
Jaehaerys nodded. "Tell me truly, Ser, was it you who was burning all those men?"
William Selmy's face lit up in surprise. "Burned? What do you mean?"
"Well, there were stories of slaves and pirates getting burned to death in the outer slave camps, like someone was hunting them. Some said it was fire archers from Xhorre hiding in the forest, but I thought…"
The knight shook his head vehemently. "Not us. We have bows, aye, but no such fire."
Then what was doing that? Jaehaerys thought he knew, but the thought was too frightening to face now.
After another hour of sauntering on, Jaehaerys worked up the courage to ask his sworn shield the one question that had been troubling him since the previous night. "Last night…" he began, "the way you killed that pirate…"
William was unperturbed. "What of it?"
"There was no honor in the trick you played with Ser Edric."
"Honor?" the knight grunted in surprise. "What does honor have to do with this?"
"You're a knight."
"I am."
"Knights are supposed to have honor." Jae tried to say that as casually as he could, but the words came sharp and cruel.
"That we are," the man chuckled, "but you are my only concern, Jae. Honor is worth piss all out here if I don't get you out alive. I swore an oath, you remember. I'm your sworn shield, your protector. It's my duty to make sure nothing happens to you. And I've failed miserably in that regard for much of this journey. That much has not been lost on me. I won't let anything happen again. And if that means I have to kill a man without honor, then fuck honor. My prince's life is worth more to me than a little pride."
They did not go much further before stopping for lunch.
"Don't wander far," Ser William told Jaehaerys. "Watch him. Make sure he doesn't run off," he said to a nearby guard.
"Where are you going?" Jae asked.
"To catch us lunch."
The knight unslung a bow from his back and ran his gloved fingers up and down its string. He smiled and then marched off with several others who also had bows at the ready. Up ahead, Ser Merrik had placed Daeron on a blanket on the ground, and the ship's maester was attending to the boy. Please help him, Jaehaerys thought, watching. Let it be something curable. Daeron wasn't doing so good, though, and Jae knew that likely meant he wasn't going to make it. Out here, there's not much hope. But even a little was better than none.
He found Rhaena standing alone on the edge of the makeshift camp, staring at a waterfall foaming over an outcropping of rocks ahead. The white-blue water was hurling itself into a thin stream below, and his sister was running her fingers through her hair as she watched.
"Are you okay?"
Rhaena shook her head. "I'm tired, Jae."
"I know, I am too." He wrapped an arm around her shoulder.
"All this time, I've held out hope that if we could just get home, if we could just return to how things were… but that was foolish of me. What do we have to return to? Mother and father are dead… the whole Seven Kingdoms are bleeding from the war… Where would we go? How would things ever return to how they were?"
"Would you rather stay here?"
"Sometimes I wonder if it'd just be better to die out here. I'm tired of it all." She ran her fingers through her hair again. "What's the point?"
"You're just saying that because you've been out here for so long," he tried to say as delicately as possible. "But I know you want to get out of this just as much as me."
"Maybe," she said, turning away from him. "I'm so dirty. My bones ache. My head is burning. My stomach's killing me. I can't stand it. I just want it to end."
"You can't abandon Daeron."
She lowered her head and bit her lip. "Yeah, Daeron…" She's already braced herself for what's to come.
"Come now," he said. "This is not the time to be moping about. We were just rescued from slavery! Our sworn shields never gave up, and neither should you."
"Jae-"
"No, I don't want to hear it. Come on. Let's get you cleaned off."
Suddenly, Jaehaerys felt himself pulling his sister into the stream, underneath the waterfall.
"The fish…!" she whispered in horror, but that only made the squire laugh.
"It's not deep enough!" The water didn't even reach their ankles. "Don't be afraid."
He pulled her in, pulled her towards him. Their shirts came off, first his, then hers. Then their pants, their boots, until they were in nothing but their smallclothes. She did not resist. Does she want to do this or is she just too weary to stop me? He didn't let that thought deter him. She's skin and bones, he realized. He could see her ribs, and when he looked down at his own stomach, he noticed that he could see his own as well, poking up from under his flesh. Her breasts were laid bare before him, pale and perky and small, the pink nipples gathering drops of falling water. He spun his sister around, bringing her under the waterfall, soaking her hair. He laughed, watching the dirt, grime, and sweat wash away from her frail form. He thought he saw a fleeting grin ripple across Rhaena's face.
"There's a man watching us," Rhaena murmured to her brother a moment later. He saw her lilac eyes dart back and forth from behind the veil of water. Her hands came up instinctively to cover herself.
"It's just a guard. He won't watch." Jaehaerys craned his head around to get a good look at the man Ser William had left to watch him. "Turn around," he ordered the man. "Give us a little privacy, alright?"
The man nodded awkwardly and averted his eyes. Once Jaehaerys was sure he wasn't watching anymore, he stepped up to Rhaena and kissed her. There was surprise in her face, but she kissed him back. Even after all the hardships they had gone through, her lips were as smooth and light as they had been that day she had come into his room. He thought back to that day, to how he had tried in vain to fight against his urges. I'm tired too, he thought. Tired of pretending I don't want her.
Now he was the one to lead. Though she was older than him, Jaehaerys had grown taller, and he had to lean his head down to kiss Rhaena.
"Sh-should we be doing this out here?" she asked, but he didn't respond. He put his mouth to hers again, and kissed her once, twice, thrice before lowering a hand to her breast. He squeezed her left breast while placing his lips on the nipple of her right. She moaned and let the water flow down her face, through her hair. His hand glided down her belly, into her smallclothes, and before Jaehaerys could even put a finger inside her, he felt Rhaena reaching for him too.
The humidity of the day was lessened under that waterfall, where cool water rushed and cleansed. The sound of the current skating across rocks and sand comforted Jaehaerys, and he felt color returning to his cheeks. The guard never turned around.
Not long after, they dined on wild boar, caught by Ser William and his hunters, roasted over a fire. They had not long to eat; the constant threat of predators who would be lured by the smell of cooked meat was enough impetus to hurry. Merrik Rykker stated that on the way to Mudtown, they had been ambushed by a pack of Tattooed Lizards and that he had nearly lost an arm to one that had tried to steal a piece of meat right from his hand. Since then, guards had been posted on all sides of the encampments, but they all knew that if something truly big came for them - a painted jungle cat, a giant venomous snake, or even an overgrown Basilisk - there would be no stopping it. So they ate quickly, put out the fire, and trekked onward.
"No sign of pursuit," Ser William said as they got going again. "Either the pirates don't know you're gone, or they don't care."
"As long as they aren't following us, I don't care," replied Jaehaerys. "But how long is it going to be until we no longer have to worry about them?"
"Not long," the man assured him. "We're going back to the river Zamoyos. Once we find it, we'll follow it back to the coast, where Cossenello and the rest of the crew are waiting. We can't take the river back - too many pirates patrolling it in their little boats. It's safer to follow the current out from the shore. Cossenello's flying the sail of slaving vessel, so no one will trouble him, and no one will trouble us on the journey home. That much I hope. We were not troubled on the way here."
There was a tingly feeling in Jaehaerys' chest, a feeling of possibility, of hope. Up ahead in the Statue's arms, Daeron's head jerked suddenly, and he vomited on the ground. As Jaehaerys passed the pool of half-digested boar meat, he saw blood. Daggers tore at his heart again, and just like that, everything was numb again.
They came upon a camp turned to ash when they hit the river. The Zamoyos was so wide here that Jaehaerys could not see the other shore. Its green waters churned like an ocean.
"Fresh," said Edric Thorne, who led the group. He kneeled down, picked up some ash between the fingers of his leather glove, and then flung it at the sea. "Whatever burnt down, it was recent."
"Keep moving," William Selmy commanded. "We're not stopping here."
"Out of water," one guard complained. "We hafta get some from the river! Whattya say, Ser?"
Ser William Selmy nodded, but he didn't seem happy. And his fears were realized not much later. Several guards began to vomit only a few minutes later, as the group moved past the burnt camp. But they kept on keeping on. They would pause to spill their guts, wipe their mouths, and return to the group. There was no time to stop. A few hours later, when the water had truly run out for everyone, even Jaehaerys was forced to drink from the river. Just like the guards, he was soon heaving and spewing his lunch all over the black sands. But there was no time to stop. Weak as he was feeling, he couldn't hold up the group. I'm a man grown, not a boy. I can't be weak. I have to push on. Everyone else is. I can't let them down.
And push on he did. Though soon Jaehaerys' feet were aching, the pleasure of the afternoon long gone from his thoughts, he couldn't stop. He felt so much weaker than the men around him, felt so ashamed by his lack of endurance. He knew it was worse for Ser Merrik, who had carried Daeron the whole way. And Rhaena's not going to be doing any better than me, he knew. But she's not complaining. So I won't.
They came to a place where the river narrowed considerably before splitting in three directions. At a low point, they crossed the riverbank and headed west. The river isn't so wide here. As the sun sunk behind the distant horizon, the buzzing flies and mosquitos came out to bite every bit of exposed skin they could. They're more vicious here than they were in Mudtown. He slapped at one, crushing it against his neck. Pulling his hand back, the boy saw a splatter of blood.
Annoyed, he wiped the bug on his pants, cursing internally. He didn't even hear the arrow sail past his ear. When it hit the man in front of him in the back of the head, Jaehaerys screamed. The man jerked forward and then slipped backwards, his eyes comically wide, reaching for someone, something to help, as he sputtered into the mud. And then, the world went mad.
Dark-feathered arrows screeched through the air, bouncing off armor and shields. Some hit the men, but most did not. Ser William grabbed Jaehaerys by the arm and pulled him behind a tree. "Patience," he muttered, as the two watched butchery unfolding before them. Dark beasts, hairy, squat, and broad of shoulder, were rushing the group, clubs, curved scimitars, and long knives in their hands.
Brindled men. Jaehaerys had seen some of them in Mudtown; they had been amongst the hardest workers in the entire camp. Their endurance was legendary, and their strength was greater than that of a regular man's. He saw one raise a club over guard's head and split the man's shield in two with a single blow.
"We have to help them!" Jaehaerys cried. "My sister… Daeron! They're in there."
"I have to protect you," Ser William said. "It's too dangerous."
Fuck that. Jaehaerys unsheathed his sword and ran into the fray. He could feel Ser William at his back and knew that the man would do his best to protect him even if he was angry at Jaehaerys for running back to the battle. But we need to save everyone, not just me. He found a brindled man engaged in a duel with a Lysene sellsword and stuck his sword through the back of the man's hairy neck. It was a weird feeling, sliding a blade through flesh. It was not one Jaehaerys was used to. He pulled the sword back and saw it slicked with blood. That's two, he reminded himself, although his second kill was far less notable than his first. He had planned on keeping a tally of all the men he killed, but if he stayed here much longer, he would soon lose count. Are these mongrel beasts even men?
They looked more like apes, savage and wild and recklessly feral. That scared Jaehaerys. One beast turned his attention to him and came running, swinging its blade behind itself until it met Jaehaerys. The boy parried the first swing and knocked his foe's guard away on the second. Then, he stabbed the brindled man in the chest. The beast let out a grunt and fell away. Two arrows shot past Jaehaerys and hit a guard in the leg and back ahead. The man fell face-first into the mud and didn't move. Two more brindled men beat their way through the guards just ahead of Jaehaerys, and charged at him. With blood on their blades, they came running forward. Yet Jaehaerys did not stand alone; Ser William Selmy lunged forward to take the first man's head off with one clean slice. The second he hacked down at the shoulder blades with less elegance.
"This is too dangerous!" he shouted hoarsely to Jaehaerys. "We have to get out of here!"
"I'm finding Daeron and Rhaena first!"
Men lay in puddles of blood, dying or dead, but the guards were beating back the brindled men, killing more than they were losing. And soon, the savages from the trees ran out of arrows, and a guttural cry went up. Like monkeys, other warriors answered and retreated to the forest on the right. Jaehaerys saw Ser Merrik ahead, taking on two brindled men at once, slashing them down, preventing them from fleeing with the others. Where's Daeron?
The remaining savages were driven back, Ser William leading the charge with a battle cry. The brindled men buckled when they saw armored men with steel swords charging them and screaming for blood. The rest of them who could still run vanished into the trees.
It was over faster than Jaehaerys would have thought. He looked over, and saw the sun still hung in a blood-orange sky. That took five minutes, maybe, he thought. But looking around at the carnage, the boy was disgusted by how much death he saw. At least seven of their company were dead, and twice as many wounded. Ser Edric had taken a spear to the shoulder and was unconscious. The men who could still stand were sick from the water they had ingested. He found Daeron and Rhaena unharmed, huddling together behind a wall of five guards, which let Jaehaerys breathe a small sigh of relief. Still, the next attack will surely break through. We are too few, too wounded.
He wiped the blood from his sword and looked over at his sworn shield, who was helping Ser Merrik with the unconscious Ser Edric. There was chaos in the group, and unsettling feeling of vulnerability. We need a leader, someone to get us out of here.
Jaehaerys ran to the far side of the shore, where the group was heading, looking for anything, anywhere for them to hole up. On the horizon, sticking up like a few distant rocks, stood something, he knew. A city. Xhorre maybe. That was better than nothing. Even if it was pirate camp, they would have to go there. They couldn't spend another night out here and risk another attack from the brindled ghouls.
Returning to the group, Jaehaerys said, "There are some buildings in the distance, that way," he said, pointing towards the sun. "We're going there."
"Could be a pirate hideout," William Selmy said.
"Even if it is, we have to go there. We can't survive another night out here in the open. Not with the brindled men out there. The one's that got away… they'll be mad. They'll come back, wanting blood. We can't face them again."
The knight looked up at the boy, narrowing his eyes. He appeared as if he was about to yell, but when he finally did speak, his voice came soft as new-fallen snow. "Aye, my prince. We can't stay out here. Lead the way."
It was a ruin if Jae had ever saw one, desolate and eerily quiet. The city, made of giant black, oily stones, stood apart from the forest, which dared not get too close. In Mudtown, the forest had always pushed against the buildings, frequently managing to get through the wooden walls. Yet here, in a place that looked as ancient as Valyria itself, no vegetation grew within three hundred feet of the stone.
They made camp in one of the towering buildings, made of blocks so large, each one could have been a house on its own. Inside, in vast, empty halls, nothing lived. There was no dust, no dirt, nothing. It was unsettling to Jaehaerys, but he didn't know exactly why. Still, they couldn't leave. They had to find shelter for the night. Men lit torches, which the black stones seemed to drink in. Others took guard positions by the door, which was impossibly large - too large for mere men to walk through. What's the purpose of that? Why is this place so big?
These questions he could not answer, for as night came, so too came weariness, and the group had to get some rest. Some remained awake to tend to the wounded, but most did not. And when Jaehaerys woke in the morning, he found that two more men had died of their wounds. Their bodies were placed outside the door, to be burnt so as to not attract any animals. Other soldiers - perhaps eight or nine - were lying bandaged and moaning, many of them horribly wounded. Ser Edric had woken since the previous night, and though he was in great pain, he was doing better. There was no maester to tend to him, though, for in the previous night's scuffle, that man had lost his head to a brindled man's rusty blade. Jaehaerys only learned of that in the morning, when he asked for the man to tend to Daeron. It was a crushing blow, but not one that Jaehaerys thought was unexpected. Our luck has been bad since day one.
Daeron lay, his eyes glazed over and milky, trembling. Jaehaerys and Rhaena took turns holding him. The boy had become so frail that they could carry him as easily as when he had been a newborn. "I want to go home…" the boy said that morning, in a soft croak.
Jaehaerys squeezed his hand. "I'm taking you back, Daeron. Don't worry. We'll be home soon." A lie. One that he will never know. Guilt wracked the squire's heart. Knights are supposed to be noble. If I am to become one, I should be noble too. I shouldn't lie to Daeron. Yet, when he thought about it some more, Ser William's speech about honor came back to him, and he knew he'd done the right thing.
By the late morning, Ser William Selmy and his scouting party returned with a captive. "Found him skulking about on the edge of the ruins," the knight explained.
"Let me go!" the pirate, who was bound with hempen rope, exclaimed. "This is an evil place! Take me anywhere else!"
"Where are we?" Jaehaerys asked, approaching the man.
"Yeen!" he whispered, his eyes wide with horror. "We should not be here! Don't you know what this place is?"
Yeen. Sweetgums mentioned it before. She called it the oldest city in the world. She said this is where we would find the fishmen of her stories. He glanced around, looking off towards the darkness emanating from deeper in the room, as if hoping to find fish eyes staring back at him, but there was nothing. He shivered all the same.
"I've heard stories," the boy admitted. "But they are just stories."
The pirate struggled against his chains, causing Ser William to punch him hard in the belly. As the man fell forward and spit, he wheezed, "They'll kill us all. We have to leave! Get out of here! Tell 'em, boy! Tell 'em what you know!"
Ser William turned his attention to Jaehaerys, but the squire shook his head. "I was told stories of this place, back in Mudtown. But they are just stories."
"What stories?" the man pressed.
"Some kind of ancient, fish race has supposedly lived here since the dawn of time, and they like to hunt men."
"They're coming for us all!" the pirate sobbed. "We must leave!"
"It's just a story," Jaehaerys said.
Ser William nodded. "It does not matter. We will not stay long. Once our wounded are attended to, we will head off." He moved forward, over to Merrik Rykker, who stood with Daeron, and handed him the prisoner. "Interrogate him. See what he knows. I'm going to scout our surroundings, see what's out there."
Merrik nodded.
"Wait, I want to go with you!" Jaehaerys said. "Please, Ser…"
The knight sighed. "Very well, Jae. But you must promise to listen to whatever I tell you. If there's danger… I don't want you disobeying me again, like last night."
"I promise."
And so they set off: Ser William, Jaehaerys Targaryen, and four household guards.
"Where did you find the pirate?" asked Jaehaerys.
"He was near the river, not far away, wandering about."
"Do you think he's with the pirates who are looking for us?"
William Selmy shook his head. "No, I don't think so. Like as not, he's from a slaving camp nearby, wandered off for a few moments of alone time, and that's when I found him."
We should be more cautious. We should expect the worst. What if he really was with the slavers? They could be plotting to attack us even now. But Jaehaerys said nothing.
On into the bushes they went, their swords out, scouting around. There were some abandoned wood-and-leaf tents that the Quickfoot thought might have been old brindled men camps. They found four of them, one on every side of Yeen, but none had been occupied for a long while, the knight assured the rest of the group. They found no pirates, but did stumble upon a huge coiled snake who lunged at one of the men when he stepped on its tail. Jaehaerys cut off the creature's head when it tried to strike again.
Satisfied that they were in no immediate danger, Ser William ordered the group to return to their camp, where they would plan their next move. He said something about going to find some food, but Jaehaerys wasn't listening. I don't want to go back there. I don't want to see all of the dying men. Most of all, he didn't want to see Daeron again. He didn't want to see what his brother had become. He couldn't face that.
Before the group reached the monolithic building where everyone was staying, Jaehaerys split off from the group. He made his way into another building, which was as derelict as the previous one. The black stones seemed to move, to shimmer like waves. He felt dizzy looking at them. He walked aimlessly through the rooms, holding a torch he had grabbed from one of the guards earlier, and moved deeper into the building. He wanted to be alone so that he could escape reality, but he soon realized that he was trapped with his thoughts, and that was worse than anything else. Try as he might, he couldn't think of anything aside from Daeron. I'm going to have to bury him. It's my duty.
The boy suddenly stopped, for he heard a faint whispering, more like the rustling of leaves being carried on the wind. It reminded him of the sound he had heard back in Mudtown coming from the bushes. But that had been Ser William trying to get my attention. He drew his sword. "Who's there?" he asked, his voice echoing down to the deeper chambers. "Answer me!"
The sound stopped. The boy stood tense, his ears going hot with anxiety. He thought he heard something else, like wet flesh moving across stone floors. He looked down, shining the light on the floor and saw that it was made of the same black slabs as the walls and ceiling. Whatever was moving - slithering, it seemed like - was coming closer. Jaehaerys held his sword close to his chest and waved the torch, trying to conjure as much light as he could.
"Who's there?!" he asked again. This time, the sound of movement stopped.
He stood still for what felt like a life age, hearing only his own breaths and the beating of his heart. When the sound never returned, he relaxed slightly and went to leave. That was when he saw something brown, something alive, standing just on the edge of his torchlight. It was impossibly large, wide as three men, and draped in darkness. The boy sucked in his breath and dropped his torch. He sprinted out of the building, all the way back to the other one where the rest of the group was holed up. As he ran back, the boy thought, was there really something there? Was that one of the fishmen from Sweetgum's stories? Were my eyes just playing tricks on me? He was too scared to look back.
Inside, he was met by the cries of a wounded man who sat up against the far wall. Everyone was huddled around him, and he was shouting gibberish and flailing about. When Jaehaerys got close, he noticed that the man's eyes had been cut out. A feeling of dread entered the boy's heart. He glanced off into the darkness beyond the group's torches, and wondered if another gigantic beast was hovering just out of sight, waiting to swoop in and eat them up.
"What happened?" he asked a nearby guard.
"He went mad, I saw him do it!" the man replied, his voice thin. "Cut out his own eyes and tried to rip out his tongue!"
Jaehaerys looked back at the man and saw him thrashing again.
"It's no use!" Ser William was yelling. "He's lost!"
They tried to stop the man from going for his knife again, but it didn't work. He wouldn't listen to anyone, wouldn't pause for a second. All he wanted was his knife to cut off more pieces of himself. Maybe he saw what I saw.
"I told you!" the pirate shouted from the corner, where he sat bound and sweating. "We gotta leave this evil place! It'll be our ends if we don't!"
Ser William's words hung like the humid heat in the air, and soon the others realized what had to be done. Jaehaerys turned away when the knight gave the madman the gift of mercy. Afterwards, he told his sworn shield what he had seen in the other building, but Ser William simply scolded him for leaving the group. He didn't seem to give a thought to Jaehaerys' description of the monster he'd seen. Still, after witnessing what the soldier had done to himself, the knight promised Jaehaerys that they would leave the next day.
Later, Jaehaerys found Ser Merrik, as the knight watched over the dying boy he had sworn to protect. The man stood still as a statue, not a hint of emotion on his face. This is killing him, almost as much as it's killing me and Rhaena Jaehaerys knew. But he'll never tell anyone how much pain he's in.
"Well met, Ser," Jaehaerys greeted the tall man. "How is he doing?"
"Not well," the knight replied coldly. "Maester's dead. Not sure he would've been much help anyways."
"He's been like this for weeks. The others in Mudtown thought he'd caught multiple diseases. There was nothing we could do there… nothing any maester could have done. I'm not sure even Grand Maester Orwyle could've done anything."
The Statue did not reply.
They stood there awkwardly for some time. Jaehaerys knelt, ran his fingers through Daeron's hair, and looked at the ruddy-faced boy who had once been his brother. Daeron shivered and opened his eyes, which were white as milk. He looked around confused, crying noiselessly and breathing hard, before slipping into unconsciousness again.
"I was chosen as his sworn shield before he was even born," Merrik Rykker said at last. "Your father chose me because we grew up together. He trusted me more than anyone. I promised him I would let nothing befall his son."
"I didn't know that Ser." He blames himself. "You could not have stopped this," Jae tried to say. "Any of us could have caught these diseases. You are no healer."
"We will be off tomorrow, Selmy said. Don't know if you heard." Merrik's words came thick and slow, and Jaehaerys knew what that meant. Daeron can go no further. This is his last stop.
"I will be back tomorrow then," Jaehaerys sighed. He stood up and walked out, not waiting for a reply.
Outside, the sun was setting. The soldiers were gathered around a fire pit, cooking meat and conversing with oblivious cheerfulness. Jaehaerys looked up to the sky, where he saw the last bit of sunlight fading behind the treeline. Gold and crimson was the sky, as richly-colored as a tapestry in King's Landing. He felt the tears on his cheeks and had not the heart to wipe them away.
He awoke at dawn, and as tired as he was, Jaehaerys Targaryen could not fall back asleep. Most of the others were still sleeping, so he stood up, took one glance at Daeron, gathered his sword and armor, and wandered out of the building, past the guard. He lied, saying that he was just going for a piss, but in truth, he needed some time alone.
Past the city of Yeen was the river Zamoyos, and Jaehaerys thought that was as good a place as any to go to gather his thoughts. Yet, when he made his way there, he saw in the distance a fire burning. Pirates was his first thought, but then he remembered the tales he heard heard of burned men and monsters in the forest back in Mudtown. He glanced back. I can't go back in there, he knew. I'm not ready. So his only choice was to go forward, to run, to see the fires up close.
It was a short trek across a low point in the river to the burned area. Most of the trees had been reduced to piles of ash; only a single massive gnarled one stood in the center of the encampment still, its leaves melted away, its branches twisted, as if reaching up towards the sky in a soundless plea. Jaehaerys' cheeks flushed; his body hummed nervously.
There were bodies everywhere. Many were charred so black, they were barely discernable from the ash. Others were only half burnt, and Jaehaerys could clearly see they had been pirates, adorned like those from Mudtown. What did this? And why were Mudtown pirates out here, so far from their lair? He thought he knew the answer.
Above, a skirling wind rose; at first it came softly, from a great distance, and then it was on top of Jaehaerys. The boy saw a shadow pass over the ground around him, impossibly large for a bird. The sound of leather wings was unmistakable. The boy's heart caught in his throat, and he looked up.
Its scales were black, its body as long as Sunfyre's. The wyvern, Jaehaerys thought in astonishment. Daeron's dragon. He did not truly know if it was a dragon - he had never seen it breathe fire. But it was big for a wyvern, and this whole area was burnt to a crisp. Did he do this? If he had, that meant… These pirates were from Mudtown. Maybe they were coming for us. Did the dragon protect us?
The great beast flew over Jaehaerys, and continued on into the distance until the boy could no longer see him. That was when the silver-haired boy realized he was shaking, that his palms were slicked over with sweat. It's a dragon, he thought fiercely. And I'm the blood of the dragon. How much he wanted one, he could not express. Ever since the day he'd realized his egg would never hatch, the burning feeling inside him, the desire to fly with one of these noble animals, had become too much to contain inside him. And now, I might've found one. He wanted to catch it; he needed to. But how does one tame a wild dragon?
Jaehaerys was jarred from his thoughts when he heard a cracking of twigs behind him. He spun around to see a man coming out from the forest, on the edge of where the fire had burnt everything away.
"Lookee who we got here, eh? Cunt!" Rooney's voice was unmistakable. The pirate was bare-chested, covered in sweat, and held a curved scimitar, which he was pointing at Jaehaerys. "How'd ya escape?"
They weren't coming after me. "What are you doing here?"
"None o' yer business, fucker."
"In that case, you may as well leave."
"Nah, nah. That ain't happenin'. We gotta score ta settle, you'n me." He pointed his blade at Jaehaerys once again. "Yer the one who got me put in this shithole. Yer the fucker who hurt me arm. Don't think I forgot, cunt. Heh, I think 'bout it everyday. Just like I think 'bout what a good mouth you got on you," he laughed, patting his crotch.
Jaehaerys tasted bile in the back of his throat and drew his own sword. "I'm tired of you. You just won't go away."
"I'm gonna split yer throat open 'n fuck the hole!" Rooney grinned a brown-toothed grin. "Whaddya say, cunt?"
"If you think you can, try it."
Jaehaerys didn't know where his newfound courage had come from. Maybe it was because he had just seen that dragon, or maybe it was because of Daeron. He had a glow about him, a rage building in his veins. I've had it with this bastard. Knights defend their honor. Knights aren't afraid of cowards like him. He doesn't realize who he's up against.
They both ran forward to meet each other. Steel kissed steel; sparks flew as the two parried each blow intensely. Jaehaerys' sword was longer, and he realized at once that he was stronger. He began to beat back the skinny pirate, and Rooney was forced to go on the defensive. Their steel clashed without pause, each blow ringing out over the water. Soon Jaehaerys' hands became numb as the constant blows rattled his blade over and over and over.
Then it was the pirate's turn to press forward. He stopped Jaehaerys' advance with a side swipe and leapt at the boy, pushing him back. Jae could see the hate in his eyes. He wants to kill me. He wants that more than anything he's ever wanted. Every time Rooney raised his blade, Jaehaerys was there to answer him. Sweat rolled down the boy's cheeks, stinging his eyes. His arms were becoming heavy, but still he defended himself. I will never give up.
Rooney lashed out recklessly, trying to cut the boy across the chest. Jaehaerys saw the pitiful attempt coming and spun out of the way of the attack. Then, he slammed his sword down upon Rooney's as hard as he could. He thought for sure that would make the pirate drop it, but it didn't. Rooney parried the blow and tried to press the attack again. But Jaehaerys could see how tired the man was; he knew how tired he was becoming too. This can't go on much longer. Now's my chance.
When next Rooney's blade met Jaehaerys', instead of pulling back, the boy used all of his remaining strength to hammer at his foe again. Rooney was not expecting such a quick strike and, in a panic, raised his blade high in the air to protect his face. Jaehaerys swung downward and caught the man's hand with his swing. When he pulled back, there was blood on his sword's edge.
Rooney let out a shriek and dropped his blade, grabbing his ruined right hand and bending forward. Jaehaerys pressed the tip of his blade to Rooney's throat. The pirate stood there, frozen, panting, moaning.
"It's over," Jaehaerys said. I should kill him. I must kill him. If I let him go, he will never stop hunting me. But he also knew he had to be smart. I need to find out what he was doing out here, if he and the other pirates were really hunting us. "Now tell me why you are here."
"Y-ya fuckin' cunt!" the man roared. "Ya cut me hand! Ya did it again!" He looked up, tears streaming down his face, his bloodshot eyes, two small, dark pools of fury. He let go of his hand, and Jaehaerys watched the blood fall from the open wound in a steady flow. He had cleaved the hand almost in two, in a split running parallel between the middle and ring fingers nearly to the wrist. Rooney put his left hand behind his back, as if to steady himself.
"You've lost this fight, now answer my question. You don't want to die, do you? Tell me what I want to know, and I won't kill you." Another lie, the boy thought, and he realized how little he cared.
"Prince of Westeros," the sallow-faced man spat. "I'll carve a crown into yer head!"
He was as fast as a snake. His left hand shot around, a knife grasped firmly in it, and slapped at Jaehaery's sword aside. The boy, who was not expecting this, did not have a very tight grip on his weapon, and he watched in dismay as his blade went flying into the ash. There he stood, completely unarmed, with a bleeding, vengeful pirate before him.
Shit.
Jaehaerys went to run, but Rooney was too close. He jumped forward like a cat pouncing on a mouse and took the boy to the ground. Ash covered them; it filled the boy's lungs. He coughed and kicked and did all he could to push the slaver off of him, but it was no use. Rooney used his weight to pin Jaehaerys to the ground. With his left hand, he raised the blade and tried to bring it down on Jaehaerys' face. The boy held the hand back with his own hands, but he could feel his muscles tightening up; he knew he couldn't hold out forever.
It was as if he wasn't in his own body. Everything slowed down; Jaehaerys watched as if he was a spectator sitting behind his eyes. His body reacted on its own. His need to survive was as visceral as anything he had ever experienced. There wasn't time to think; all he could do was act.
He dropped his right hand, which left only his left to hold back Rooney. Rooney's blade began sinking towards his face. But it was no matter. His body had a plan. He had no idea what it was; he was simply watching it all unfold. His right hand moved instinctively towards Rooney's right hand. And then he stuck his fingers in the open wound and ripped out the exposed tendons.
The pirate known as Rooney let out a bellow of pain loud enough to make birds take flight. He fell off Jaehaerys, clutching at his ruined hand. The leather handle of his blade stuck out from the ash just in front of them, but Rooney was too busy rolling around holding his wound and crying to notice. Jaehaerys, without even pausing to think, grabbed the blade, stood up, and ran for the pirate.
He punched the dagger into Rooney's chest, just where his heart should be. If he had one. The pirate stopped squirming and let out a gasp. His eyes went wide, and he coughed up blood, bright and bubbling. Jaehaerys stepped back.
The pirate tried to stand, but he couldn't. He collapsed onto the ash, his entire body getting covered in it. Rivers of blood were flowing out from his wounds now. Rooney sat up and pushed himself to his feet, gritting his red teeth. He looked at Jaehaerys for a second and then nearly collapsed again, drooping his head. He'll bleed out before long. It's over.
At once, Rooney looked up with those wild eyes of his. He focused on Jaehaerys and stumbled forward. He wrenched the blade from his chest, causing blood to spray everywhere. More of his life's blood was leaking from the corner of his lip. Then Rooney began to sprint. Jaehaerys had not enough time to react. The pirate was on him too quickly.
The last thing Jaehaerys Targaryen saw was a flash of silver cross his vision. Then everything went black, and the pain washed over him like dragonfire.
