Arya saw the Queen emerge from the tent where the assassin had been screaming his confession for the past two hours. "Your Grace, you should not sleep alone, I think. " Daenerys stared at her vacantly, before nodding and taking her hand. Arya led her to Sansa's pavilion. Her sister and Lord Baelish emerged from their own chamber, and instructed servants quickly to make up a bed for the pair of them. As she watched the Queen undress, Arya realised just how frail she had become. Always slim, she now looked almost childlike. Her injury, and the stress of the campaign, had taken their toll. She handed her a goblet of wine, laced with sweetsleep, which she drained in one draft. Then they climbed into bed together. Both fell rapidly asleep.
Arya woke first, relieved to see that the Queen was still asleep, and slipped out into the light. There was quite a commotion. A man was being led through the camp, badly bruised, tied to the back of a horse, surrounded by Dothraki riders. He wore a septon's robe, now filthy. Daario and Varys appeared on the scene. "Excellent work" remarked the eunuch. " I presume this is the miscreant?" Mago, leading the Dothraki, grinned and nodded, before replying "He's hiding nearby. No doubt, he wants to hear Khaleesi is murdered. Now he hears, his balls cut off". The Dothraki crowed with laughter. "Welcome traitor," he addressed the man. "We have spent the night interrogating your colleague. Come and join him. We have questions to put to you, and men who are skilled at extracting answers. " "I am a holy man!" he shouted "My person is sacrosanct". There were hoots of derision from those present. A Dothraki cut the man loose, and pushed him off the back of the horse. They dragged him away to the tent, followed by Varys, and before long, his screams could be heard across the camp. She felt no pity for him, returning to the pavilion, where the Queen had just woken up, with a servant offering her sweetmeats.
"I'll never forgive myself" said Daenerys sadly. "I ought to have had her properly guarded at all times. A woman I loved as my sister, and I let her down." She said nothing more, crying gently as Arya held her tight. At last, the crying subsided, and Daenerys commented "I must go and see her. " It was now early afternoon. They emerged to find what remained of the two murderous septons fastened to a pair of crosses, on Daario's orders. They were barely alive now, moaning in delirium. "Place the crosses in a cart, with a pair of oxen" commanded the sellsword, " and drive them to the city". Daenerys gave a nod of approval, and the order was swiftly carried out. "The prisoners?" enquired Daario. "Behead them, then quarter them" commanded the Queen. "Then hurl the pieces over the walls". "It shall be Madam, as you command". They walked to the pavilion where Missandei's body still lay. It was decently wrapped in a shroud, and guarded by attendants. Daenerys bowed her head sighing. Arya took her hand again. She remained silent, for perhaps half an hour. Arya heard shouts of anger and outrage from outside, as the prisoners met their fate, but Daenerys paid no heed. A young tribune of the Unsullied joined them. Daenerys walked over to embrace him. "I have no words, Marsalen." The man sobbed for a time, then recovered.
"She dwells with the Lord of Harmony, now, your Grace. As does my brother."
"Will you organise her funeral, according to the rites of your people?"
"Of course, your Grace. " He fell silent for a time, before saying "I know that you will avenge her. I will avenge her too." He left them.
"Marsalen is Missandei's brother, Arya. They were all taken together as slaves. They lost a brother in training." Arya felt her eyes start with tears. She knew what it was to lose a brother.
A short while later, Margaery stared with dismay at the sight before her. The square behind the Old Gate resembled a charnel house. It was littered with heads and limbs, and spattered with blood. Two hideously mutilated men were having nails removed from their arms and legs, as they were taken from their crosses. They stirred feebly, but it was plain they were on the point of death. Judging by their condition, death would certainly be a mercy. "Your Grace, she has spent her life coupling with savages, and has adopted their ways. She mocks the Faith, and slaughters our holy men. She follows heathen gods." The High Septon was plainly outraged.
"These Godly men tried to murder her, I believe" she remarked drily. She had discovered the truth from her father.
"And that is a Godly task, your Grace. Your husband is the anointed of the Seven. He is the Defender of the Faith. It is no sin to slay a heathen traitor. Nay, it is a duty. These men will earn a place among the blessed martyrs."
Mace Tyrell joined them. "Your High Holiness, there are no words to describe this evil. You are right. She serves the Lord of the Seven Hells."
"There are worse Powers even than he" remarked the High Septon. "The Black Goat of Qohor. The Rider God of the Dothraki. R'hllor, the Demon who is worshipped across the East. They have brought her army to the gates of this city. A woman sitting the Iron Throne, in service to such Powers? I can think of nothing worse!"
"Yet, Hallayne serves her, one of the Most Devout!" cried Mace.
"A false brother, my Lord. The Powers of Evil are subtle. They challenge us from without, yet they corrupt us from within. Know that there are Septons and Septas who present a mask of holiness to the world, yet are in service to the infernal Powers". She saw her father shudder. Could he not see that this man was a fanatic? "My lord, grant me the task of rooting out the traitors and heretics. Let me consign them to the flames. The Gods will welcome the scent of their burning."
"Of course, Holiness. Destroy them!"
"Your High Holiness" cried Margaery. "My father has no authority to order such a thing!"
"Be silent, your Grace!" he shouted. "It is not a woman's place to dispute her lord father, any more than it is her place to challenge her lord husband! You fail to know your place. Your husband is not yet of age, and so the realm must be governed by your father, and your brother. And yes, your grandmother is a woman, but she pays due respect to the Gods. She is a woman who knows her place, and she is humble. Her advice is good. Learn from her! Submit to your father and your brother!" He glared at her.
Disaster piled upon disaster! Ignoring her father's spluttered outrage, Margaery turned her back on them both, and stalked away.
Notes:
In the books, Marsalen is a senior office among the Unsullied, and Missandei's brother. Another brother died, during training to be an Unsullied