THE KEEPER
Chapter 10: Bloodlust Keeper
One month later…
Brienne stood at the Sea Keeper's bow, scanning the unending blue sea around them. No matter how far they sailed or how long since they'd last seen another ship, it was never enough. Unease often tightened her spine or woke her from sleep, made her look around anxiously, to confirm the dragons were still with her, safe and healthy.
Griff came to join her. "Your watch ended an hour ago, Brienne. Relax."
"I can't relax." Her gaze shifted from the water to the rapidly darkening sky. "I worry about them every moment of the day."
"You're taking too much stress on yourself." Griff patted her back, right where the stress settled between her shoulders.
"Food is here!" Tristan came up the steps with a large metal bowl and a plate piled high with fresh fish.
Squawks and high-pitched screeches greeted him. Brienne turned to look up at the dragons who were sitting on the mast pole ropes. They hadn't mastered flying yet but they could glide, now that their wings had gotten stronger and become nearly translucent. Gallan walked to the end of the pole and flapped his wings, indicating the jump.
Brienne couldn't control the instinct to run below to catch the dragon. Griff caught her and pulled her back.
"No, let it be," Griff ordered. "They have to learn."
Brienne fought him. "The last time, Gallan glided past the boat and ended up in the sea."
"So? They're natural swimmers. They need to learn to fly." Griff didn't loosen his grip.
"Gallan, take care!" she called. "Fly."
"Say it in High Valyrian," Griff reminded her.
"I wish you hadn't read that book saying dragons understood commands in High Valyrian," Tristan grumbled. "They could learn the Common Tongue just as easily."
"Like how you learned dragon squawk in the last month?" Griff watched as Gallan jumped down from the mast and almost immediately caught the draft. The blue dragon glided around the ship's deck, then flapped its wings and rose.
"It's flying!" Brienne gasped. "It's actually flying!"
"Aye!" The lookout called. "Dragon aloft!"
The men on deck stopped their work to look. A cheer rang out as everyone watched Gallan rise to the lookout platform. It perched on the ropes above the platform and screeched in victory. Serdun and Ardayn, as if goaded by Gallan's success, also jumped and caught the air. They glided around the deck, as if to soak in the encouragement from the crew, then flapped hard to join Gallan. Only Catren and Allwyn were left on the mast.
"Come on!" Brienne called. "Fly!"
Griff sighed. "Sōvegon!"
The two dragons flapped their wings and looked down at them. Above them, Serdun, Ardayn and Gallan squawked and chirped.
"Sōvegon, Catren!" Brienne cupped her hands around her mouth. "Sōvegon, Allwyn."
Catren dropped and Allwyn followed seconds later. Catren caught the air, flapped and managed to maintain altitude. The crew whistled and some even clapped. Allwyn glided down to the deck, not attempting to fly. Catren joined Allwyn a few seconds later. They turned to Brienne, flapping and squawking.
Brienne pulled free from Griff and knelt by the dragons. They settled as she gathered them up in her arms. They hadn't gotten much bigger but they'd put on weight and seemed more solid. The steady diet of fish and sunshine agreed with them. They'd started to grow scales on their backs and their nearly translucent wings were stronger.
"Ssshhh," she murmured. "Don't be upset. You'll learn."
Griff came to them. "They don't understand your words."
"They understand my actions." Brienne lifted the dragons to her shoulders. "And I understand theirs. They're frustrated and want reassurance."
Griff shook his head as she rose. "You spoil them."
He watched as Catren and Allwyn snuggled into her neck and rubbed their heads against her unruly blonde hair. Above them, the other three dragons continued to call down to them.
"They're babies. There's nothing else I can do." She stroked their necks, just under their heads, where they liked it best.
She put them down on the rail and took the bowl from Tristan. The dragons chirped and bounced with excitement as she put two large pieces of raw fish in the bowl.
"Dracarys," Brienne had barely spoken before the two flapped their wings and unleashed a small stream of dragonfire to roast their meal. Each snatched up the fish and made a show of devouring their dinner.
Gallan, Serdun and Ardayn came down to join them. Griff took the empty bowl from Brienne and refilled it with another piece of raw fish. He offered it to Gallan, who tilted its head politely, as if waiting for permission.
"Dracarys," Griff urged, holding the bowl carefully by the edges.
Gallan quickly roasted and took his meal, without the flare or dramatics Allwyn and Catren displayed. Tristan took the bowl and added the remaining pieces of fish.
"Dracarys," Tristan offered the bowl to Serdun and Ardayn.
Both dragons looked away from the darkening horizon to chirp at him before returning to their guard duties.
"Why do they take commands from the two of you but not me?" Tristan demanded. "I've known them just as long as you have."
Griff raised his brow and pretended to consider. "Perhaps the sight of your ugly face puts them off their food?"
"Aye?" Tristan stood his full, nearly seven-foot height. "Then what does it say that seeing your perfect features makes them want to burn raw meat?"
Brienne ignored them, as usual. She put the bowl down on the rail between her most devoted guards and stroked their backs, where the slightest ridge of their emerging spikes could be felt. Now, freed from their duty, they didn't need to be prompted to cook and eat their dinner.
"Sōvegon," she urged them gently once they'd finished.
They both tried, flapping their wings, but they didn't yet have the strength to perform the vertical lift. Gallan, always the practical one, didn't bother with the lift. It simply climbed up the mast pole. Immediately, Serdun and Ardayn followed, climbing up. Catren and Allwyn stayed behind, poking their heads into the empty bowl.
"Take it easy,' Tristan advised them. "You don't want to get fat."
Griff eyed the bigger man's rounded belly. "Spoken like a true expert."
Tristan turned on him. "It's all muscle!"
Brienne stepped between them and scooped up her dragons. Catren and Allwyn spoke to her in their usual little chirping.
Griff turned away from Tristan to observe the dragons. "Odd."
"What's odd?" Brienne leaned against the rail, a dragon tucked under each arm.
"They were the first two to start breathing fire." He reached out to scratch Catren between its wings, causing the brown and red dragon to start wiggling in Brienne's arms.
"Breathing fire might be easier for them,' Brienne pointed out, transferring Catren to Griff. "Flying requires wing strength. They'll learn soon."
She turned back to study the horizon, difficult now that full night rapidly darkened the sky. She stroked Allwyn, the grey and blue dragon held close, more to soothe herself than Allwyn. Griff also turned, Catren a limp weight in his arms, and studied the gathering darkness.
"This is the worst time," Brienne commented. "Limited visibility and no moonlight."
"The lack of visibility will keep most ships in harbor or anchored," Griff pointed out. "We're anchored so far out it's unlikely we'll encounter any of them."
"Even if anything comes, we're prepared." Tristan spoke from her other side. "We've had a full month to practice defensive maneuvers and counter shipboard attacks. We can take on anything. We're the Golden Company. Right, Griff?"
Griff was about to reply when the trio of dragons above them squawked loudly. They flapped their wings and puffed out their bodies.
Brienne looked up at them. "Something's wrong. They only puff up when they're defensive."
Griff looked around but there was nothing to see in the encroaching night. Candles were being lit, carefully encased in glass stands to prevent them from tipping and burning the wooden deck.
"Olmar, what do you see?" Griff called out to the lookout.
Olmar, in the lookout perch above the mast, looked around. "I don't see anything. All clear from here."
Tristan tried to peer through the darkness. "Should we put out the candles?"
"Too late," Griff said. "If anyone is coming for us, they've already fixed our position. We need the light to see around us. There's no moon so we can't go far with just the stars as a guide."
"I still don't see anything. I've been watching since before darkness fell. The waters were clear." Olmar called down. "Do you think something is coming now?"
Griff looked up to the dragons. Gallan, Serdun and Ardayn were still puffed up, their squawks high-pitched and urgent. Catren and Allwyn picked up on the tension and flapped their wings, wiggling to free themselves from Griff and Brienne.
"The dragons sense something," Brienne insisted. "Griff, you know they're not normally like this. We need to prepare."
Griff looked down at Catren struggling to get out of his arms. The brown and red dragon strained up towards the mast post, where the other dragons were perched, puffed and aggressive. Catren, like Griff, was born to lead. It wanted to be with the others. Griff nodded.
"Raise the defenses!" Griff thrust Catren back into Brienne's hands. "Prepare for attack!"
The men, perfectly trained with daily disciplined drills, were already in motion. Ropes lines were laid and tied down for hand grips; flat metal shields, as tall as Brienne's shoulders, were laced against the rails while squires fastened bags of arrows wrapped in oil-soaked cloth. Archers lined up behind the shields, their bodies protected up to their shoulders, with their squires stationed behind them, torches on the ready to be lit and set arrows aflame. Heavy, water-soaked leather tarps were unrolled to make the deck more flame resistant.
"The dragons!" Brienne held the wiggling Allwyn and tried to hold Catren. "We have to secure them below."
"Take them to your cabin," Griff ordered, striding to the center of the deck. "Stay with them."
Catren and Allwyn wrenched out of Brienne's arms and jumped to the mast pole. Both Griff and Tristan tried to grab them but, with their sharp little claws, they practically raced up the pole.
"Come back!" Brienne cried frantically. "It's not safe!"
"Zaldrīzoti, māzigon naejot issa!" Griff yelled up. (Dragons, come to me!)
The dragons refused his command to come down to him. They continued to flap and squawk, staring hard at something on the port side.
"They're looking left," Tristan observed. "Whatever they see, it's on the left side."
Griff nodded. "Archers, double the port side but leave defense on starboard! Olmar, do you see anything?"
Olmar stared hard into the darkness. "No, still nothing!"
"I trust the dragons," Brienne insisted. "If they're upset, then something is out there."
Griff nodded again. "I agree. They can see and sense a lot further can we can, especially in the dark. Brienne, get them below. We don't know if what's coming is for us or for them, but I'm not taking any chances."
"Zaldrīzoti, māzigon naejot issa!" Brienne pleaded, looking up at the dragons. "Please!"
Despite their tense situation, Tristan grinned. "Aye, that's how your counter bloodlust. Use your best manners."
"Bloodlust?" Brienne stared at the big man. "They don't have bloodlust."
"Not yet but they will," Tristan predicted. "Let them see someone come at their mother with spear or sword. Then the dragons will show bloodlust even a Dothraki bloodrider can't match."
Brienne and Griff stared at him in horror. Then Griff turned to Olmar.
"Throw down the dragons, Olmar!"
Olmar stared at him as if Griff had lost his mind. Still, he tried to reach for Serdun, the dragon closest to him. The green and orange dragon hissed and shifted away, beyond Olmar's reach.
"I can't get to them!" Olmar reported.
Before Griff could argue further, Serdun dropped. Gallan and Ardayn dropped seconds later. All three caught the air and glided past the Sea Keeper and into the darkness beyond.
"No!" Brienne screamed and rushed to the railing.
Everyone turned to look past the port side. A deathly silence descended on the deck, is if they had all stopped breathing. Even Catren and Allwyn, still on the mast, stopped squawking. Long moments passed, the men ready and in positions. Anxiety and anticipation soured the air around them but no one wavered, gazes fixed and muscles locked, ready for whatever might come their way. Brienne could hear her blood pound in her ears as they waited, as still as possible on the gently rocking ship, ears strained for any sounds of impending attack.
There was the flare of dragonfire and in its illumination, Gallan, Serdun and Ardayn sitting on the mast of a large ship, sails fully extended, headed straight for them. A muffled roar, like a hundred screams, came from the pirate ship. The three streams of dragonfire concentrated on the same point, lighting the sail on fire, revealing not only the pirate ship but two other ships behind it. The screams of fear and shock became louder as the ships came closer.
"Three ships!" Olmar called. "They each have crows!"
"What's a crow?" Tristan demanded.
"It's a steel boarding plank with sharp claws," Brienne explained. "They'll use it attach to our ship and board." She called up to Olmar. "Are the flank ships behind or beside the lead ship?"
"Behind," Olmar reported.
Brienne turned to Griff. "That means they plan to chain their ships once they've attached to the Sea Keeper. They know they can't overwhelm us by surrounding us so they're going to come at us in waves, wear us down. This isn't a raid. They know they're against the Golden Company. They're here to kill."
Griff's blue eyes darkened to black. "Then death is what they shall have. We'll leave no man alive."
"What about the dragons?" Brienne demanded. "Ardayn, Serdun and Gallan are still there."
"Archers, aim low!" Griff ordered. "The dragons are on the mast of the lead ship."
Just then, the mast of the lead ship crumbled to the deck. The three dragons leapt into the air then glided into the night. Fire raced along the length of the pirate ship's deck, further illuminating the horrifying scene as men, some with their clothes on fire, beat at the flames.
"No!" Brienne screamed. "My dragons!"
"Brienne, fire can't kill a dragon!" Griff caught her arm and dragged her away from the railing.
She fought him. "No, but swords and arrows can!"
They heard a thud and stopped struggling to look. The ship behind the burning ship was still at full sails. It had run into the burning ship and drove it forward. The pirates hadn't anticipated a surprise assault from the Sea Keeper nor had they prepared for a dragon attack.
"The lead is off course," Olmar called. "They can't lock their crows unless they turn the ship. The other ships are trying to use it as a battering ram."
"Archers, fire at will! Pole men, put out the ramming pole," Griff ordered. "We can't let their ship set us on fire. The pole will give us some distance. Olmar, call out the marks!"
Brienne stared at the burning hull, trying to find her dragons in the midst of the flames. The men all appeared to be either burning or putting out the flames, all while trying to dodge the barrage of flaming arrows from the Sea Keeper. None of the pirates appeared to be looking for or attacking a target. Still…
Olmar called out the marks, the flaming ship came closer, driven by the full sails of the flank ship behind it. Brienne knew what she had to do. She ran up to the bow of the Sea Keeper, near the ramming pole, to where there was a break in the shield line. The archers and their squires paid no attention to her, focused on shooting flaming arrows into any moving target.
"Brace for impact!" Olmar called.
The archers and squires stopped and ducked down, grabbing for hand holds. Brienne jumped up onto the wide railing then ran down the length, watching the burning ship drift closer, then dove across, crossing the divide as the burning ship hit the ram pole. The pirates barely noticed her, thrown by the impact, their screams of pain and panic throbbing in the air around them.
"Brienne!" Griff yelled. "No, Brienne!"
The burning ship shuddered as part of the hull collapsed and the flank ship drove into it. Fire jumped from the burning ship to the flank ship, licking at its bow. The other side would soon fail, too, forcing the Sea Keeper's ram pole to lock the ships together. Griff must have realized the danger, too.
"Pull in the ram pole! Put up sails!" she heard him order.
Men from the flank ship came to their ship's bow. Burning arrows rained down on them from the Sea Keeper. Brienne unsheathed Oathkeeper and rose to her feet. She tried to ignore the flames and crackling wood around her. The fire was not her priority. Her dragons were here. She had to save them. It was her destiny.
The sword came at her out of nowhere. Brienne saw it from the corner of her vision and blocked it with Oathkeeper. The pirate brute was strong, hammering at her with repeated blows, driving her back with each bone-jarring clash of steel.
"Brienne!" Griff shouted. "Behind you."
She turned, quick enough to avoid a blade in her back but not quick enough to avoid the sword altogether. It sliced through her upper right arm then jammed against her collarbone. Oathkeeper fell from her nerveless fingers. She kicked out hard to push the second assailant away. The first man sliced into her left thigh and she crumpled.
He raised his sword to bring it straight down into her heart. A burst of dragonfire set the man alight. The man screamed and backed away. Catren and Allwyn glided down beside Brienne, the bloodlust Tristan had spoken about shining in their cold, reptilian eyes. The second man stared in shock for an instant, long enough for the dragons to turn on him, setting his clothes ablaze.
Brienne tried to crawl back, her upper arm and thigh bleeding, burning wood crackling around her. More pirates leapt onto the burning ship, despite the rain of fiery arrows. She lunged for Oathkeeper then snatched her hand back. The cloth strips covering the pommel were on fire. The air around her moved with the familiar swing of steel. Instinct made her throw her body back, flatten on the deck as the sword swung past her head.
Catren and Allwyn screeched in outrage, then blasted the swordsman. Brienne snatched up her sword, the pommel still hot but not unbearable. She rolled onto her knees, looking for a target. Someone came up behind her, she held up Oathkeeper to block the thrust. She turned to face her opponent when a sword appeared pushing out of his chest. The man fell forward, revealing Griff behind him, Firestorm dripping with the pirate's blood.
"Brienne, get up," Griff held out his free hand. "We have to get back to our ship. The Sea Keeper is in full sail."
She looked over. The Sea Keeper was retreating from the burning ship. The archers were still keeping the pirates from the flank ship from rushing them but they would lose that protection in minutes.
"Third ship turning starboard!" Olmar called out.
The third ship was trying to go around the burning ship and reach the Sea Keeper from the other side. A triple blast of dragonfire set its sails ablaze. Screams of rage and fear came from the ship. Then a roar, so full of fury it drowned out the closer screams, made the air around them tremble. Brienne's blood ran cold, even while surrounded by dragonfire, burning men and open flames.
"Griff, get off the ship!" she ordered. "It's coming!"
Griff looked around; Firestorm held ready. "What, where?"
"The dragon!" Brienne yelled. "The dragon! Get off this ship!"
Then it was too late. The big dragon roared with uncontrolled rage. Its blast of dragonfire made the baby dragons' fire look like weak sparks in comparison, striking all three attacking ships in a single breath.
"Griff, no!" Brienne cried. "No!"
Griff, like every other man in the dragon's path, was on fire, his clothes curling into ashes as they fell from his body. It took Brienne a moment to comprehend, while the other men were falling to their knees or flat onto their faces, sobbing with agony, Griff was still moving. In fact, he moved so fast he was a blur of motion, his usual water dance style now transformed into a fire dance, Firestorm an extension of his body as he cut through opponents and flames alike.
The big dragon roared again, this time concentrating its attack on the flank ships, as if it knew Griff would take care of the men on the first ship himself. Brienne, unable to look away from living flame that was Griff, barely registered the five small dragons surrounding her, her lethal bodyguards with bloodlust in their eyes and death in their mouths.
Griff finally stopped, breathing heavily, the fire around him a pale comparison to the flames in his nearly black eyes. Naked, muscles taunt and ready, sweaty skin unmarked and healthy, sword held aloft, surrounded by the dead and the defeated, even the mythical Titan of Braavos would not be his equal.
"You, you…" she stammered. "You're not burnt."
"No." His smile was sharper than the Valyrian steel blade in his hand. "I'm the blood of the dragon."