Davos III

That morning was cold and damp, and the fog that had risen in the city was so thick that the only thing he could see more than two pallets away was the Hightower. The light that came from it had already returned to his usual tone, after the king's forces had taken the ancient fortress of the Hightowers. According to rumors that were being told through the city in recent days, Lord Leyton had thrown himself from the top of his tower along with one of his daughters when he saw King Stannis' fleet appear on the horizon. By the time the king arrived from the Arbor, it had been several days since the city had fallen into the hands of the Dornish army, and the only resistance left were the scattered Hightower forces that had managed to take refuge in the ancient fortress. Apparently, watching the vast fleet enter his city must have been the last blow that the Old Man of Oldtown could withstand. After that, one of his sons, a certain Ser Gunthor, took command of the remaining garrison, and decided to surrender the fortress in exchange for the release of the prisoners that the Martells had taken, including one of his brothers, and to allow them to retreat to Highgarden with what was left of his army. Stannis had been a little reticent about this latter condition and wanted them to kneel and swear allegiance to him but he ended up accepting the terms.

Davos tried to remember the path to the docks. Oldtown was a labyrinth and he could not waste time losing his spare, cause the king had summoned him. Luckily, he had been in town several times during his time as a smuggler, an experience that had helped him when entering the city almost a moon ago without patrols suspecting. And of course, also when opening the doors of the city in the middle of the night, although in that case they also had help from one of the queen's cousins. Although several days had passed since that night, Davos still couldn't get it out of his head.

Years ago, I brought life to a castle. To this city, I've only brought death.

Every night, Davos wondered how many fathers, mothers, sons and daughters would have died that fateful night because of him. It was not the first war in which he participated. He was no fool, he knew the atrocities that occurred during the conflicts between the great houses of Westerps. However, whenever he had fought in a battle it had been against enemy soldiers or ships, never any of his actions had resulted in the deaths of innocent civilians, or so he believed to this day.

They had been no more than thirty men in total when they carried out such a risky enterprise, but when they stormed the eastern gate of the city under the darkness of the night, Davos felt that he had a great army at his command. They had taken the garrison that guarded it completely unprepared, and in mere minutes, full control of that gate was theirs. After that, it was just a matter of opening it, giving the signal with the torches to the army that was waiting outside and letting death into the city. As planned, the entire Dornish army was waiting that night behind one of the hills surrounding the city. Davos did not know how they had achieved it, but they had apparently got there through the mountains without being seen. To him, that seemed a much more incredible feat than attacking some young soldiers from behind in the middle of the night when they were half asleep.

The cobblestones he stepped on were wet and slippery, but Davos continued with a steady path through the narrow alleys. He went out on the river path, which meandered by the bank of the Honeywine and ran through the city from the old town to the docks. He noticed the eyes of the citizens of Oldtown nailed to him, spying on him from the windows and balconies. He wondered whether it would be wise to walk around the city without an escort, for he was sure that no one in Stannis' army would be seen with good eyes by the inhabitants of the city, and if they knew what he had done that night, he was sure that his corpse would soon appear lying in one of the dark alleys. The sack had only lasted one night, but it had been more than enough for all kinds of undesirable crimes to occur. Wherever he looked, Davos only saw potential enemies.

At last he arrived at the docks of Oldtown, which were completely overburden with warships. Each bore a different flag: lemons, scorpions, suns, spears and even some a bunch of grapes that had not yet taken down from the masts, but above all of them waved the proud crowned stag of the Baratheons. The symbol of the Baratheons was a constant presence in the city, even before they took it, but the emblems that accompanied it had changed significantly: neither a golden rose nor a gray tower could already be seen in the city. At last he saw his ship, the Black Betha. That old ship had accompanied him to all his battles since he was knighted by Stannis and surprisingly, it was still afloat. His sons had insisted that he could now choose a better ship, one of those that Dale or Allard had taken from the Redwyne fleet, but Davos had preferred to keep his, for, like the pouch he was wearing around his neck, it seemed to bring him luck wherever he go.

The ship was half empty, as only a tiny part of the crew was on duty that rainy morning. His son Matthos was no longer among them, as Stannis had appointed him captain of the Lady Marya now that Allard commanded the Queen of Arbor, Paxter Redwyne's flagship, which had also fallen into his hands. Many of the fleet crews had been reassigned or divided among the new captured ships, but Davos was glad that except for Matthos, the crew of the Black Betha remained intact, as he trusted these men as if they were their own children. Not in vain had they all followed him without hesitation to Oldtown on that mission that looked suicidal.

"Prepare me a boat and half a dozen men to accompany me," Davos ordered the quartermaster. "The king has summoned me to the Hightower." King Stannis had turned the old fortress of the Hightower into his new headquarters, where he met daily with the Dornish lords who had sworn their allegiance to him. Many of them were overjoyed by recent victories, as a Dornish army had not sacked Oldtown for centuries, but many others still wondered when they would stop fighting Lord Renly and face the Lannisters once and for all, just as young Stark was doing in the Riverlands.

Davos found the current situation troubling. It had improved remarkably since the last few weeks, that was for certain, but not enough. They had a larger fleet now that they had incorporated the ships taken from Redwynes, but their fleet was already numerous before and they did not have enough sailors to crew the new ships. Their army, although it had suffered very few losses, remained considerably weaker than that of their enemies, although at least with the gold obtained from the sacking of the Arbor and Oldtown they could secure the loyalty of the mercenaries for many more months, and maybe hire more to fight for their cause, provided that the wind remained favorable to them a bit more.

Why would the king want to see me this time? Davos wondered. The last time he called me was in Sunspear, to entrust me this mission. Where will he send me now? Lannisport? Or maybe King's Landing?

The salty water of the sea licked the hull as the boat as they approached the immense tower of the Hightowers. It was the tallest building he had ever seen, and that morning it was lit by hundreds of torches, topped by a great fire that led the ships safely to port. The proud tower looked the same as the last times he had seen it, but this time it was banners of stags and suns crossed by spears that decorated the fortress.

When all this is over, will those banners continue to wave there, or will those of the grey tower return? It was a question for another time. First, they had to win this war.

The boat set course for the shore, leaving behind an undulating wake. When they disembarked, an entourage of several guards greeted them and escorted him to the king's rooms as his companions returned paddling back to the port. Everywhere he looked, Davos only saw soldiers and more soldiers. He was surprised by the amount, as most of the army remained outside the city walls, and within it only remained a garrison to maintain order. In addition to the soldiers, several maids, butlers and cooks also swarmed through the corridors of the fortress. They did not look like dornishmen, so Davos sensed that they were from the household of the Hightowers, who had left them behind when they left the city.

"I always see you embark in the most impossible and far-fetched missions one could imagine, and for some unknown reason you always return triumphantly," a voice resounded. "Sometimes I think you must be some kind of envoy of the gods, or maybe you just have a lot of luck, old bastard."

Salladhor Saan appeared in front of him, dressed in a green robe and white leather high boots with gold filigree. The old rascal made his way to him between the guards of Davos' escort and the servants who came and went, and wrapped Davos in a snatching hug, then put a kiss on each cheek and a third on his forehead.

"Neither has it gone wrong for you for what I have heard, Salla. How many ships have you taken in the Arbor? Ten? Twenty?"

"Twenty-two and barrels of wine for the rest of my life. Although I don't have men to crew even half of them, so they're still stuck on that island. But there's nothing to worry about, I'll come back for them when this is all over."

"I promised you riches if you joined us Salla, and as you can see, I have not disappointed you."

"You know, when you came to Lys looking for my help, I thought of you for a fool. A poor knight who served the wrong king and who didn't know when to give up a lost cause. However, a part of me thought that whenever you ran any errant for me, you never failed me, no matter how difficult it was. And I said to myself, if Davos believes that his king can emerge victorious, then it is still worth betting on him. And bets are always more profitable the crazier they are."

"And me thinking that you did it out of love for our friendship" laughed Davos. "A part of me wonders why you haven't returned to Lys with your women and your countless barrels of wine yet."

"If I were a wise man I would have, but I am a man of my word, so I will accompany you to the end." As long as I continue to get riches, Davos completed the phrase. Salla was his friend, but before that he was a pirate, or a Pirate Prince, as he called himself. And no one became a Pirate Prince by keeping his word and guiding himself by his honor.

"Sir, we shouldn't be delayed," pressed one of his escorts. "The king wouldn't want you to be late."

"A thousand apologies, " said Salladhor Saan with a pompous reverence. "I didn't know you were going to meet his highness, though the truth is that I'm not surprised at all. Go, I won't keep retaining you."

"Then I'll see you later, Salla. Will you be in the Valyria?" Davos asked as he said goodbye.

"I'm going to be in one of the taverns in the city, one that was on one of the islets of the delta. Years ago, I met a beautiful girl and I'd like to see if she's still around. I may be able to get a new wife today, my friend."

"Don't lie. You don't have wives, pirate. Only concubines."

Davos said his farewells and went to the king's quarters, escorted by the guards. At the entrance, two soldiers were guarding the door. They were wearing an all-white armor, as were the cloaks that hung from their shoulders. He recognized one of them, a slender and jute man, with dark hair, severe eyes, his face spoiled with smallpox bites and old scars. In his white armor, he wore a sigil with three moths. Richard Horpe was one of the men who had accompanied Davos to Oldtown, and possibly one of the soldiers who had slaughtered more people that night.

"Ser Richard, I find you well. I did not know that the king had appointed you a Kingsguard."

"Ser Davos. It's always a pleasure to see you. The king offered me the white cape after the battle of Oldtown. It is said that the traitorous Lord Renly's has created his own royal guard, the Rainbow Guard or something like that he has named it. I intend to kill those traitors one by one," Ser Richard said proudly. Davos didn't doubt his words, Ser Richard may not look as dangerous as other men, but his longing for killing made him extremely dangerous.

Ser RIchard was one of the few members of Stannis' household who decided to follow and continue serving him in Dorne when the former lord of Dragonstone married Princess Arianne. As a squire, the young Ser Richard tried to become King Robert's Kingsguard, but Queen Cersei vetoed him. He probably thought that if he could win the favor of the king's brother, in the future he could aspire again to the white cape. In the end, it looks like he'd achieved his goal, one way or another.

"I'm glad for you, Ser Richard. Now, if you'll excuse me, the king is waiting for me."

Richard Horpe set aside, letting Davos through while the rest of his escort waited outside the room. When he entered, the king's rooms seemed more... austere than expected. There were gaps in the walls where surely tapestries and paintings had been hung before, the tables were devoid of any adornment and he could not see jewelry or gold anywhere. The rooms were big, of course, but they had nothing of greatness anymore. The only thing that gave them away as the royal rooms was a banner hanging from one of the walls and the presence of the kingsguard outside the door which he had just entered. The interior of the room was warm and cozy, lit by the fire in the chimney.

The king was sitting in a simple wooden chair in front of a map and various rolls of cards. Next to him, the queen peeled a blood orange with her fingers while her face denoted an absolute bore. Davos was a little surprised to see her there, as he believed that she would remain in Dorne until the war was over. His son Devan stood behind them, eager to fulfill his king's wishes.

"My king, my queen, had ye summoned me?" said Davos.

"Ah, here you are. I'm sorry to call you so late. I should have talked to you as soon as I arrived in the city, but other matters have prevented me," Stannis greeted him, making a gesture to make him sit down. However, before he even reached the chair, Queen Arianne got up and gave him a strong hug, just as Salladhor Saan had done a few minutes ago.

"It's good to see you again, old friend. I must confess that when you set sail for Oldtown, a part of me thought I would never see you again in my life. I thought not even the great Onion Knight would be able to accomplish something like that. I've never been gladder to have been wrong."

Davos couldn't hide some surprise from hearing that. When he left Dorne the queen seemed as confident as ever, but at that time he felt some fragility in the king's wife. She's still a child. It may have been fifteen years since I met her, but she's still very young.

"And I have never been gladder that you were wrong, princess, sorry, your Grace. I didn't think you'll be in the city, truth be told," Davos replied with a smile.

"When I was a kid, I kept asking you to tell me stories about your adventures, and you did it without complaining even once. I think you've earned the right to call me whatever you prefer, Davos. Oh, and my husband is also glad to see you safe and sound, even if he finds it hard to express it."

Stannis was about to say something, but he hesitated at the last moment and settled for showing his disconformity with a serious glance directed at his wife, who returned a mocking smile and sat down again. Davos followed her example and sat in front of the king, on the other side of the table.

"For the record, I too am glad that you are safe, Davos, just as I am sure that all your children are. They all fought bravely in the Arbor. Devan, bring us fresh water and cups for the three of us."

His son nodded and walked out the door, not without first smiling at his father.

"Someday he'll make a great knight like his father, I'm sure of it," Arianne Martell said. "But I think my presence makes him a little uncomfortable. He must be at that age."

"Someday he'll find a good wife, like I did," Davos said. "And who knows, his children may even marry the lords and ladies of the great houses."

"You may not have to wait that long for that," the queen said. "I was going to propose to marry young Devan to my daughter Nymeria or to one of my small cousins, although my uncle may not find it very funny. He's never liked arranged marriages, but I'll talk him into sense."

Davos barely heard the last words. My son, married to the daughter of a prince of Dorne or to a princess of the Seven Kingdoms?

"Your Grace I... I don't know what to say. I'm sure there are other suitors more... appropriate than the son of a smuggler. Besides, I don't think your vassal lords will find it very amusing."

"Let them say whatever they want," said the princess. "You are no longer a smuggler, and your blood is as noble as any of them. Besides, I don't think they'll object to the princess marrying a son of the Lord of Oldtown."

"What?!"

"Ser Davos" said the king. "For your services in the past I made you a knight and gave you lands. For what you have done for me in this war, I'm going to appoint you lord of Oldtown with all the lands and vassals that belong to that title. Now kneel, so that I can formalize the appointment."

Davos was so shocked that he couldn't even get up from the chair to kneel. Am I still dreaming? Me, lord of Oldtown? It's not possible, it can't be true...

"I do not believe that the citizens of Oldtown will find it very funny that the person responsible for the sacking of their city is their new lord, Your Grace."

"They wouldn't much like him to be a dornishman, not to mention the divisions that would cause between the chosen one and the rest of the Dornish lords. Oldtown is richer than any castle south of the Red Mountains," the queen replied.

"Obey and kneel at once, Davos. Your king commands you," Stannis pressed him, rising and approaching Davos as he drew the long sword.

Davos obeyed and knelt on the ground.

"Ser Davos of the house Seaworth," said Stannis posing the cold steel on his shoulder. "Will you be my loyal vassal, now and forever?"

"I will be, Your Grace."

"Do you swear to serve me with loyalty, to counsel me sincerely, and to defend my family and my kingdom, until the end of your days?"

"I swear."

"Then rise up, Davos Seaworth, rise up as lord of Oldtown and the Hightower, protector of the Citadel and Master of Ships."

"Your Grace, it is not possible... I am not prepared to be lord of Oldtown, let alone Master of Ships."

"There is no one else more prepared, Davos," said the queen. "Perhaps my father could take the job, but in his delicate state of health it is best to let him rest and not give him any more work. And none of the Dornish lords know the sea half as good as you. Don't underestimate yourself Lord Davos, I'm sure you'll do great. I bet on you."

Stannis shed his sword, held out his hand and helped him stand up.

"My wife is right," Stannis said. "A king needs a Small Council, and I could find no one better man to form part of it than you among all my men."

"I'm a commoner," Davos reminded them. "A smuggler who has risen too high. The rest of captains of the fleet will never listen to me."

"You are the man who has taken Oldtown, Davos," said Arianne Martell. "You have done what no dornishman has been able to do since centuries before the Conquest. Most of these lords, knights and captains admire you as much as I do, that there is no doubt about it."

"But not all," replied Davos. "There must be someone more suitable, Prince Oberyn, Lord Uller or Lord Yronwood maybe, they are as responsible for taking the city as I am, Your Grace."

"No matter how much I appreciate my uncle, he's not made to be the Master of Ships, I'm sure we could find him a much better post if he wants it." the queen said.

"And I commanded all these lords that there would be no harm to the city or the population, and none obeyed my orders. I have other good men, capable and loyal men, but none as much as you. It's you I want by my side in battle," the king added.

"Battle? Is your brother coming to face us?" asked Davos.

"Not my brother. Renly and his army are still on their way to King's Landing, or that's the last thing we know about him," the king said, frowning visibly upset. "No, the one who marches upon us is his father-in-law, Mace Tyrell.

Mace Tyrell. If there was anyone for whom the king felt true hatred, that was the lord of Highgarden. Davos did not know whether Lord Tyrell would have forgotten the siege of Storm's End, but Stannis certainly did not. He never has...

"Are you planning to present battle? Most of the Reach's troops march in your brother's army. I doubt Lord Tyrell has enough men to storm the city, and he won't be able to besiege us as long as we dominate the Sunset Sea. Facing him directly can be an unnecessary risk, a foolishness some may say."

"You're right, in part. But if Renly takes the capital; no, when he takes the capital, he will return with his army to liberate Oldtown. When that happens, we must be strong enough to face him. Facing Mace Tyrell in an open field can pose great risks, but if I defeat him, the whole south will be totally helpless."

"When the Tyrells fall, the Reach lords will have no choice but to surrender and join us or face their destruction," Arianne Martell said. "Renly is too far away to protect them."

May fortune favor the foolish, then.