The Keeper
Chapter 44 – Aftermath Keeper
Brienne watched the expressions of the council members gathered around the three swords, Bright Star, Lightning and Starfall. They stared at the swords, frozen shock on their faces. The weapons were still and silent, giving no hint of the shattering clue they had just revealed.
"We must go to Tarth," she insisted. "This might be a weapon that can fight the Night King and the Army of the Dead, perhaps even defeat them."
She tried to rise from her chair but Griff put his hand on her shoulder to restrain her. She glared up at her king and tried to shrug off his hand. He was immovable.
"You're not going anywhere," he denied. "Your feet need to heal and we're not sure there is a weapon buried on Tarth. We'll send a raven to your father. He'll begin the excavation."
"This is an important clue," she protested, still trying to shrug her shoulder under his powerful grip. "We must uncover it as soon as possible."
"Do you plan to join the digging?" Griff shot back. "What can you do that Lord Selwyn can't do, perhaps even more quickly than sending you to Tarth?"
She frowned but stopped trying to push against him. He was right. After so much time, the item would be buried deep and its exact location was unknown. It would take several days and many men digging to find it.
"Even so, your Grace, someone must go to Tarth to retrieve it and to guard it," Ned spoke up. "Tarth is an island on the Narrow Sea. Word will reach every corner of the known world once the Lord of Tarth, father of the keeper of the dragons, orders digging in his own courtyard. Everyone will know something of great value is buried there. Every pirate fleet, mercenary company and sellsword wanting power or riches will descend upon the island. Tarth may turn into a battleground."
"No!" Brienne cried out in horror. "Tarth is my home. I'm responsible for the people."
She tried to jump up from her seat again but Griff still had his hand on her shoulder. He pressed down firmly as the dragons, picking up on her anxiety, hissed and faced the room. Serdun, held in Podrick's lap, also hissed. Tanda cringed in her seat while Balon, seated beside Podrick, froze. Jaime, Bronn and Tyrion also stilled, even though they were accustomed to the dragons.
"There's no need for concern." Griff raised his voice to regain everyone's attention. "I already anticipated this eventuality."
He looked over to the four dragons by the window, ignoring the council member's shocked, incredulous faces. Griff's steady gaze remained on the dragons, who calmed and settled back, their tension easing along with Brienne's. Podrick and Serdun, seated in the chair beside her, also relaxed when Griff turned back to smile reassuringly at Brienne.
Brienne took a deep breath and her shoulders sagged with relief. Of course, Griff had a plan for this. That was what Griff did. He was the master strategist because he constantly evaluated and reevaluated possibilities based on changing circumstances. Many nights, while on board the Sea Keeper, she'd found him awake, studying maps or his well-organized notes, working out plans and processes for his future kingship.
"You anticipated this?" Tyrion repeated. "You already knew there was something of great value on Tarth and took steps to protect the island?"
Griff nodded as he released Brienne. He held his hand over her shoulder, as if expecting her to jump out of her seat again. When she didn't, he looked up at Tyrion.
"Yes, Lord Hand, I did," Griff confirmed. "I have men stationed on the island. It's well-protected and Brienne's father is safe."
"How?" Brienne demanded. "How did you know a valuable weapon was buried on Tarth?"
Griff shrugged and let his hand fall to his side. "I didn't."
Brienne looked up at him in confused puzzlement. He'd taken steps to secure Tarth without knowing the island needed securing. Griff was a skilled tactician, able to see many possible results to a single action. He hadn't seen this possibility so how had he known to guard Tarth?
"You didn't know about the weapon?" she confirmed. "Then what item of great value are your men protecting on Tarth?"
"Your father." Griff looked at her with the same steady gaze that had calmed the dragons. "He's been nearly overwhelmed by the armada of ships invading Tarth's shores."
"Invading," Brienne gasped. "Tarth has been invaded? When? By whom? Why didn't you tell me about this sooner?"
She looked around, as if expecting to see armed men burst through the door or shatter the windows. The dragons, except Serdun, hissed and puffed, looking for the threat that had alarmed their mother. She put her hands on the arms of her chair, ready to fight to her feet, if need be.
"No, Brienne." Griff put his hand back on her shoulder. "I used the wrong word. Your father is safe, Tarth is protected and the ships have all been turned away."
"Why was 'invading' the wrong word?" Jaime's eyes narrowed on Griff's hand. "Was the island attacked?"
"No, no one has attempted to attack and plunder," Griff assured. "Lord Selwyn has been fending off Brienne's legions of suitors."
"Suitors?" Jaime face drained of color.
Brienne flushed bright red. "Legions?"
Griff shook his head at her embarrassed confusion. Tyrion and Tanda both nodded sagely, while Ned and Podrick grinned at Brienne's bright blush. Balon, chivalrous as always, merely looked at her with his usual polite concern.
"Did the fuckers really think they had a chance?" Bronn snorted as he held out Fortune and twirled the sword expertly. "Don't they know who the competition is?"
Brienne blushed even brighter red and looked down at the table. The dragons squawked, sensing her deepening embarrassment. Jaime and Griff both glared at Bronn while Tyrion groaned and shook his head. Tanda, Ned and Balon watched the dragons with concern, their eyes wide as the dragons began to extend their wings. All except Serdun, still held firmly in Podrick's lap. The green dragon stretched its neck to lay its head against Brienne's arm, distracting her with its comforting warmth. Griff walked over to the windows to soothe the other dragons.
"Brienne, how can you not know your own value?" Griff questioned as he placed his hands on Gallan and Ardayn's heads. "You're the keeper of the Gods' dragons. You have five of the most powerful weapons in the known world. Men will kill for such power."
"The dragons are not weapons," Brienne snarled. She raised her head and glared at her king, her instinctive drive to protect the five burning through her shock and embarrassment. "I won't allow them to be used in the wars of men."
"I know," Griff soothed her, even as he moved to stroke Catren and Allwyn. "I understand but those fools don't. I also understand human nature. Most men will accept your father's refusal to betroth you to them but some won't. The aggressive or desperate ones wouldn't hesitate to harm or kidnap Lord Selwyn in order to pressure you. I knew I had to keep him safe to keep you safe."
Brienne's mouth fell open as her face flushed again. How could she have been so stupid? She'd been so focused on being the Gods warrior that she'd forgotten she was Selwyn Tarth's daughter. Once the young dragons came to the Dragonpit, they were no longer a secret. Even more, she'd led the five through the capital, causing Drogon and Rhaegal to follow to protect them. Anyone wanting to have influence over the dragons, Griff or Daenerys could have taken her father. She would have done almost anything to get him back. How could she have left him vulnerable like that?
"My father is safe?" She reached for Serdun, feeling suddenly cold. "Are you sure? How could I have been so selfish to leave him unprotected?"
"You're not selfish, my Lady Ser," Podrick insisted as he transferred Serdun to her lap. "You're the bravest and most noble knight in the Seven Kingdoms. A selfish person wouldn't have been prepared to sacrifice her life to protect the citizens of King's Landing."
"He's right, Brienne," Jaime agreed. "You don't understand how extraordinary you are or how much your contributions have already helped us all. Without you, King's Landing would have suffered grave casualties, perhaps even have fallen. You're only one person and cannot think of everything. Don't berate yourself for circumstances you can't control."
He paused to assess her response. She reminded silent and looked down at Serdun. The green laid its head on her shoulder, sensing her need for comfort.
"Brienne, we've been preparing for war against the Army of the Dead, reacting to changing circumstances and trying to do what's best for Westeros," Jaime continued. "King Aegon had the time and distance to plan into the future. He knew what the rest of us didn't."
There was a slight bite to Jaime's words, a hint of accusation when he glanced at Griff. But his wildfire green eyes, when he looked back at her, were gentle and understanding. Jaime smiled warmly and Brienne felt some of the anxiety knotting her stomach ease. He understood. Jaime knew the guilt she was feeling, learning her actions had left someone she loved vulnerable and even made him a target for vicious, unscrupulous people. Jaime was going through the same guilt, trying to accept his mistakes and still move on to an important, honorable future.
"Thank you, Ser Jaime," she whispered, hugging Serdun close. "But even if I'm not at fault, it's still my responsibility to care for those I love. I must learn to look beyond the immediate threat, to protect all those in my care."
Jaime smiled. "I have no doubt that you'll succeed, Lady Ser Brienne."
Brienne gasped softly. It was the first time Jaime had addressed her by her title as a knight. He had believed in her honor, trusted her to find Sansa, armed her, armored her and set her on the path to realizing her dreams. During that same time, Jaime had been losing his children, his hope and even the love of his life. Yet he was here, serving yet another king who'd sneered at him, doing what had to be done to honor their oath to protect the rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms.
"So, it's decided," Griff's voice was sharp as it broke into their moment. "Lord Tyrion, send a raven to Lord Selwyn instructing him to begin digging at the location where the fire began the night Brienne was born."
Tyrion was already writing on his parchment. "Yes, I'd do it right after this meeting. I –"
Suddenly he stopped speaking. Everyone turned to look at the Hand. Tyrion looked up from his writing, his face suddenly ashen.
"Lord Tyrion, what's wrong?" Podrick asked.
"The red comet." Tyrion turned to look at Podrick, his eyes so wide they dominated his face. "Remember what Lord Selwyn said about the red comet while we were at Dragonstone?"
Everyone else stiffened, looking from the Hand to the squire, aware of Tyrion's tension. The four dragons also watched intently, as if following the conversation. Podrick frowned and slowly shook his head.
"No, Lord Hand, I don't recall Lord Selwyn saying anything about the red comet other than that my Lady Ser was born under it," Podrick admitted.
Tyrion nodded slowly. "And I said…"
His voice trailed off as he looked from Podrick to stare at Brienne. His gaze fell to Serdun in her arms and Tyrion's face paled. She blinked and recalled their conversation in the Chamber of the Painted Table on Dragonstone.
"The red comet," Selwyn murmured. "I'd forgotten about that." Then he smiled. "But that was a busy night. Brienne was being born that night."
Everyone stared at Selwyn then Brienne.
"Odd, she doesn't look like a young child to me," Tyrion commented. "The red comet was seen about four years ago, if I recollect correctly."
"Yes," Daenerys agreed. "That was the year my dragons were born."
"Mother have mercy," Brienne whispered, her gaze locked with Tyrion's. The color also drained from her face as she understood what Tyrion has just realized.
"What?" Jaime demanded. "What did Tyrion say? Podrick, why are they so shocked?"
Podrick frowned. "After Lord Selwyn said my Lady Ser was born under the red comet, Lord Tyrion noted she didn't look like a young child. The red comet was seen about four years ago, when the big dragons were born. Then –"
Podrick also stopped speaking as he, too, understood the significance of that conversation. Jaime looked from Podrick's pale face to Tyrion's equally stunned expression then to Brienne's frozen shock. He exchanged looks with Bronn and Balon, both of whom shook their heads, unable to understand. Griff came back to the table, equally stunned, and nearly fell into his chair.
"Two comets have fallen since the night Brienne and I were born," Griff gasped, his face as pale and shocked as the others. "One created a firestorm on Tarth and the other…"
"The other?" Ned prompted. "We know it can't be Dawn, since that star fell at Starfall more than ten thousand years ago."
"The other," Brienne repeated. "Aegon Martell Targaryen, you are he who must stand against the others. The one whose coming was prophesied five thousand years ago. The red comet was your herald. You are the prince that was promised, and if you fail the world fails with you."
Griff's indigo eyes darkened as he stared at her, absorbing her words. His hand drifted down to Dawn, the sword created from the heart of a fallen star, wielded by the Sword of the Morning, the promised prince who would bring the Dawn and with it, the end of the Long Night.
"The other comet fell north of the Wall," Tyrion whispered, as if the knowledge was a terrible secret that needed to remain hidden. "Jon Snow told us the Night King had become powerful only in the last few years. We discussed what changed to make him active. We thought it was Viserion falling north of the Wall. But that couldn't be the reason."
Brienne looked from Tyrion to Jaime in silent horror. Even Bronn, seated beside him, paled. She recalled their conversation at this very table when Jon had discussed the Night King's growing powers. They had all heard but hadn't understood.
"Or is he looking for a queen?" Jon asked grimly. "The Night King had been contained by the Wall for over five thousand years, with few issues. Now he attacks the living to build his army. And his powers are growing so strong he can raise the dead even from beyond the Wall. What changed? Why?"
"The dragons," Missandei said softly.
"What?" Daenerys looked at the five, who looked back at her, calm but alert. "They're fine."
"No, your Grace, I mean the dragons are what changed," Missandei clarified. "My life, your life, all of our lives changed when we came in contact with the dragons. They're creatures of magic. You told me the Warlocks of Qarth stole them and tried to chain you because they wanted the dragons' magic."
"Yes," Daenerys gasped as her eyes widened. "The warlock in the House of the Undying told me when my dragons were born, their magic was born again."
"Does that mean the dragons' magic is feeding the Night King's magic?" Jorah's face drained of color. "Does the Night King want to hold you like those warlocks did? Does he want you for his Night Queen?"
"That could be why his powers are growing," Tyrion suggested. "Viserion is a creature of magic. Magic never died, even when the dragons did over three hundred years ago. It became dormant. Now magic is strong, even able to create new dragons. The Night King is feeding on Viserion's magic, even before raising him."
"The Night King is getting stronger," Podrick picked up Tyrion's thoughts. "King Jon said he'd been contained for thousands of years but only became active recently. It couldn't be Viserion's magic because the Night King had been building his army for several years."
"It was the red comet that fell over four years ago that made him strong," Brienne concluded. "It made all of magic stronger. It allowed Daenerys to birth dragons and increased the Night King's power."
Ned also paled. "You mean there are two more weapons like Dawn in Westeros? Prince Aegon has Dawn, Tarth guards one weapon and the Night King has the other? The Army of the Dead has a weapon as powerful as Dawn? It's that magic that allows the Night King to raise the dead?"
Tyrion sucked his breath in on a harsh gasp. "That's it. That's why the dead rose around King's Landing. There was no sign of the Night King because he didn't raise the dead. Dawn and magic did."
Ned shook his head. "That's not possible, Lord Hand. Dawn has been on the mantel at Starfall for my entire life, ever since Lord Ned Stark brought it back to us. I would have noticed the dead rising around it."
"You had Dawn but you didn't have magic." Brienne hugged Serdun to her. "Remember what happened in the Throne Room before the dead rose? King Aegon unsheathed Dawn and it travelled the full length of the Throne Room. No man, no matter how powerful, could throw a sword that far. Dawn pierced Ser Gregor, a man hovering between life and death, a creature of dark magic."
"Then Ardayn fired on it," Podrick reminded. "Ser Gregor was a creature of dark magic but then Dawn was purified by a creature of the Gods' magic."
"Is that why Dawn didn't need to pierce the creatures to destroy them?" Griff questioned, his hand resting on the pommel of the magical sword. "Ice, Valyrian steel, had to break the dead's skin while Dawn merely needed to touch the creature. Its magic is that powerful?"
"I think so. But the dark magic, the impulse, had already been created when Ser Gregor died or was destroyed," Brienne continued. "I noticed it was getting colder as I spoke to Moqorro. I thought it was my nerves until I saw Ser Boros had become a Wight. Then the dead attacked and we fought against them."
"And we won," Jaime reminded them. "We had a defensible position, experienced fighters and knew what weapons to use. And we had dragons to destroy them faster."
"A battle that taught us how to fight the dead and gave Lady Ser Brienne the final clue to find a powerful weapon the Gods sent to us," Balon summarized. "They're arming and training us."
"Yes," Brienne agreed. "The clues have been here all along, in prophecies, sigils, house words, even our own actions, but we didn't see them until we needed them."
"Now we need them," Jaime concluded. "The war for the dawn has begun." He sighed heavily. "I wish you good fortune in the wars to come."
"What?" Bronn frowned at him, tucking Fortune at his side. "Are you talking about my sword?"
Jaime shook his head. "No, it was something Ser Arthur said to me before he left for his last battle. I wish you good fortune in the wars to come. He didn't know it would be his last battle."
Sadness caused Ned's mouth to turn down at the corners. "I wish I could have known him. I heard my uncle was the most noble and honorable man in the Seven Kingdoms."
"If not the world." Jaime touched his shoulder, where the scars from his knighting were hidden under his uniform. "Ser Arthur was my idol. The most honorable man, the greatest swordsman and the finest Kingsguard the brotherhood has ever known. He was the best of men serving the worst of kings. Sometimes, I'm glad he didn't live to see what became of those who sat on the Iron Throne."
Brienne gasped as she looked from Jaime to Griff. Despite turning into a monster in his last years, Aerys had been Griff's grandfather. Griff readily admitted to Aerys's failings but Jaime's sons hadn't been better kings that Aerys. She held her breath, fearing Griff would take Jaime's comment as a slight against him or his bloodline. Griff narrowed his eyes at Jaime but his posture remained relaxed.
"Then it's good that the Iron Throne is no more," Griff commented. "The corruption is gone and the army of men are armed with its secret, the Valyrian steel swords."
"But the Night King is a creature of dark magic," Podrick reminded them. "We don't yet know if there really is a weapon as powerful as Dawn on Tarth. Even if there is, the Night King has an equal weapon plus he knows magic from the Age of Heroes, before the fall of Valyria and in the time of the First Men. How can we possible fight him?"
"We're not helpless, Podrick," Griff assured him. "We won our first battle. As we speak, ravens are being sent to every keep and castle. We're instructing them to keep torches lit at all times and be prepared for chill winds. We know an attack of the dead is foreshadowed by a noticeable cold."
"I noticed something else. The Wights all had skin," Ned pointed out.
They all turned to stare at the Lord of Starfall, even the dragons. Ned blinked and looked at their confused faces, his own face flushing noticeably.
"Yes, they had skin," Tyrion agreed slowly, as if speaking to a dimwit. "That is what held their bones together." Then Tyrion's eyes widened. "It held their bones together!"
Griff looked from Tyrion to Ned, seated on either side of him. "What is the significance of that?"
"We thought the Night King could raise the dead anywhere he wishes, but now we know there's a limitation," Ned explained. "I have some experience in medicine and poisons. It was part of my education as the future Lord of Starfall. While I squired for Lord Beric in the Riverlands, I saw how long it took for skin and muscle to fall off dead men's bones."
Tanda shuddered but said nothing. Ned grimaced but continued when Griff nodded at him.
"In Dorne, the hot sun and hot sand will melt flesh off bones in mere weeks," Ned continued, "while the dead in the Riverlands lasted for months."
"Ser Davos explained the same thing to us," Podrick noted. "When we were discussing how long it might take for Viserion to rise. He said the colder the water, the longer it would take for a body to become putrid. It must be the same for temperature on land as in water."
Ned nodded. "As I said before, all the Wights had skin, something to hold their bones together and allow them to move."
"Which means the Army of the Dead isn't unlimited," Tyrion explained. "The Night King can only use those creatures that can move themselves. It can only raise the recently dead or those who have been preserved."
"Which is why the Night King brings the winter storms," Jaime concluded. "It needs the cold to preserve the dead and add to its army."
"Thus, the further south, the faster the putrefaction and the less bodies to add to the Army of the Dead," Griff surmised.
"How long does it take for a body to putrefy?" Tanda asked quietly. "The Riverlands are an army waiting to be risen. How many of those poor souls will join the dead?"
She looked to Ned but he shook his head regretfully.
"I'm sorry, Lady Tanda, my knowledge of medicine isn't that great," he explained. "We can ask the maester or his assistants. They would know about death."
"No, they won't," Tyrion disagreed, his voice grim. "The maesters only know about the living. They have no experience with the dead or interest in death."
"Oye," Bronn's eyes widened. "But we do know someone who cares more about studying the dead than the living. That crazy ex-maester is probably the only person looking forward to war against the Wights. He probably passes his nights dreaming about experimenting on them."
"Ex-maester?" Ned repeated. "Who is this man?"
Jaime clenched his hand into a fist as a shudder passed through him. "Qyburn."
"Where is Qyburn now?" Griff demanded.
"Traveling north with Jon Snow," Brienne explained. "He's pledged his loyalty to the King in the North. His family has been loyal to the Tully's and Starks for generations."
"He belongs to House Mallister of Seaguard," Tyrion added. "Home of Lady Ser Brienne's mother."
Griff looked at Brienne but his gaze was inward. She knew he was adding this new information to the knowledge he already had, seeing how this piece could change the landscape and potential outcomes.
"Where is Jon Snow now?" Griff asked.
"He, Queen Daenerys and the Dothraki have reached Harrenhall," Tyrion reported. "I sent them a raven as soon as Lady Ser Brienne returned to her rooms yesterday. I knew the Queen would be anxious until she understood why Drogon and Rhaegal had left her. She would fear it was Dragonbinder that called them."
"Good work, Lord Tyrion," Griff complemented. "Send a raven to Harrenhall with Lord Ned's observations. Qyburn may know more that can help us craft our defense against the Army of the Dead."
"Yes, your Grace." Tyrion blinked, still unused to compliments from Griff. "While on the matter of battle planning, are the Dornish lords in position?" Tyrion made a note on the scroll. "Are the Dornish forces preparing for battle with the Army of the Dead?"
"They are, Lord Hand," Ned confirmed. He picked up Starfall, his new Valyrian steel sword, and sheathed it in his sword belt. "They have Valyrian steel swords and packed as many dragonglass swords and arrowheads as their ships could carry. They'll distribute them to the men guarding Storm's End, Highgarden and Sunspear."
Brienne frowned. "Why did they take so many dragonglass weapons? We still must protect King's Landing and send weapons north to arm the Unsullied and the Dothraki."
"Queen Daenerys and the Dothraki took dragonglass with them," Tyrion explained. "What they couldn't carry, the Ironborn will deliver when they dock in Maidenpool. Plus, Jon Snow's ship is sailing to White Harbor with all the obsidian mined from Dragonstone. The smiths there will create weapons once the ship arrives."
"And we have plenty of dragonglass here," Podrick reminded her. "Drogon and Rhaegal turned the tourney grounds into a field of obsidian. I'm sorry you and Serdun were injured on the field of fire. But we're all grateful the dragons turned stone into weapons."
"Stone into weapons," Tyrion repeated, staring at Brienne. "The prophecy. 'When the red star bleeds and the darkness gathers, Azor Ahai shall be born again amidst salt and smoke to wake dragons out of stone'. That's you."
Brienne shook her head. "No, I didn't wake dragons from stone. Drogon birthed the five from eggs. It already had the magic it needed to birth dragons."
"That's not the only way to interpret the prophecy," Tyrion insisted. "You were born the night the red star bled, amidst salt and smoke and used dragons to make dragonglass out of stone. First your dragons found the Valyrian steel swords hidden in the Iron Throne, then they called Drogon and Rhaegal, thus waking dragons, dragonglass, out of stone and now you've identified another weapon, the bleeding red star itself fallen to ground. You are Azor Ahai reborn."
"What? No, I'm just me, just one person. I can't do it alone." Heat flushed her face and caused her throat to tighten. She was the God's warrior but she was only one person. She could not be a fabled hero responsible for the fate of humanity. She shook her head frantically as Serdun rose up in her arms, wrapping its tail around her waist and rubbing its head against the frantic pulse at her throat.
The other dragons flew to them, sensing her distress. Catren settled in Griff's lap and Allwyn into Podrick's. Tanda gasped and shrank in her seat. Ned and Balon stiffened in their chairs as Gallan and Ardayn landed on the table. They twisted their long necks, trying to find the source of Brienne's emotional spike.
"Brienne, calm yourself," Griff soothed. "We already know the prophecies are clues to guide us in battle, not a battle plan. Your contributions are great but you're not alone. We stand with you. No one person is solely responsible for saving all of humanity."
"That's right, my Lady Ser," Podrick assured her as he hugged Allwyn. "Jon Snow said we're all Azor Ahai, as we'll all fight the Long Night, together."
"We appreciate you were willing to die for us on the tourney grounds," Jaime added, "But we'll do everything we can to ensure you're never put in that position again. We fight together."
Brienne looked at him as she tightened her hold on Serdun. The sudden panic that had gripped her eased and she was able to breathe again. She had been ready to die for the people, if that had been the Gods' will, but was grateful for her life. She had a family to raise, a king to guard and a kingdom to serve. The future was a hazy but promising, if they could continue to band together and work to create a battle plan to defeat the Army of the Dead.
"Yes, we'll all fight but you're the Gods' warrior, the instrument of their will," Griff reminded her. "You see what we don't, understand what we can't. That's our advantage. We're not just fighting with weapons and warriors. We have the Gods on our side."
He was interrupted by knocking. A second later the door opened and Moqorro stood in the doorway. He bowed, his expression dark and serious. So serious, it made Brienne's blood pound in her veins. The dragons all turned to look at him. She looked to Griff, who was frowned at the Red Priest, then back to Moqorro.
"Moqorro, why are you still here in King's Landing?" Brienne demanded. "You were to take Ela and the babies to Dorne. The ship was supposed to have left at first light." She turned to Griff. "Did something go wrong? Where's Ela?"
The dragons, either picking up on her emotional spike or recognizing the babe's name, all stood up alertly, even Catren, Allwyn and Serdun, still in their laps. Moqorro looked from her to the dragons as he stepped just inside the doorway.
"The children are well, my Lady Ser," Moqorro assured in his grave, steady voice. "They set off to Sunspear with Ser Manfrey this morning. He swore an oath to protect them."
"With his life," Griff muttered darkly. "Ela is the reason Gallan and Allwyn escaped injury. He knows those babies are under the protection of the dragons."
Griff was still clearly angry with the castellan of Sunspear. Brienne ignored his dark tone to focus on the priest. Moqorro pressed his hands together and regarded her with his dark, serious eyes.
"Why didn't you go with them?" she asked.
"My Lord has work for me here," Moqorro explained. "He has ordered me to reveal my secret."
"Your Lord?" Tyrion repeated. "R'hllor ordered you to speak?"
Moqorro nodded. "Yes, the Lord of Light, the God of Flame and Shadow, the faith of dragons, the light that guides us all. He has shown me my path."
"What is your secret?" Griff asked. "And which of us did he order you to reveal it to?"
Moqorro looked at Brienne and Serdun then back to Griff and Catren. "To the blood of dragons, the unburnt, the light in the darkness."
"Then you seek my Lady Ser," Podrick spoke. "Kinvara, High Priestess of the Red Temple of Volantis, called her the light in the darkness."
Moqorro nodded. "Yes, the keeper of my Lord's dragons has proven to be the one who can carry my secret."
"What secret?" Brienne demanded.
"I did as my Lord commanded, my Lady Ser," Moqorro said. "I thought I had claimed a great power, one that no man has ever held, but you hold it already. You do not need to channel it. It already flows through you."
Brienne frowned. "I don't understand what you're saying."
Moqorro's facial tattoos brightened, as if a fire had been lit within him. "The power to command dragons. You don't need a horn to harness it."
"What?" Then she understood. A mixture of anger, relief and dismay filled her, almost robbing her of breath. "You! Youstole Dragonbinder!"
Author's Notes:
Several readers have asked me about ways to communicate with me other than the comments section. My goal this week is to update the profile page with my various social media contacts. I'll try to have that updated by Friday.
The prophecy interpretation about waking dragons as dragonglass out of stone came from a private exchange from skyjadeprincess. I liked it so much I added it in this chapter. Thank you, skyjadeprincess, for allowing me to use your idea.
Remember what Brienne said in this chapter: "The clues have been here all along, in prophecies, sigils, house words, even our own actions, but we didn't see them until we needed them." I'm not one of those writers who adds prose just because it's pretty. I'm trying to seed clues that will matter later in the story.
Did you realize that two separate red comets had to fall to justify Rhaegar's belief that Aegon was the promised prince and to herald Drogon, Rhaegal and Viserion's births? Does it make sense that a red comet landing north of the Wall energized the Night King?
Please let me know your thoughts. Your feedback really helps me plot and present the story.