Jon
"What are you doing? " Dany asked Jon and Tito, who sat on the carpet. Aemon sat not far from Jon and was gnawing on a wooden toy. It was a carved dragon Jon made for him not long ago, which was also quite noticeable. The carving look unrefined, but he doubted his son minded. He seemed to like the wooden dragon, given how often he was nibbling on it.
"Why are you two playing with Aemon's toys?" she continued to ask after she spotted the rest of Aemon's toys arranged on the carpet.
Jon shrugged his shoulders and graced Dany with a warm smile.
"We are not playing with Aemon's toys…Tito and I were just trying to visualizing a way to fight against the Dothraki. Aemon's toys are a great help," he explained.
"These are the Dothraki," he added and pointed at the two carved horses in front of Tito. Then he leaned back and pointed at the soldiers placed before Jon's knees and at the flanks of the battlefield."And these are our men."
Dany wrinkled her brows and shook her head in disbelief.
"And what use are the twigs placed in front of our men?" she asked and jerked her head at the two pieces of wood placed before the men in front of Jon's knees.
"A ditch," Tito explained and leaned back on his hands. "Jon's thinks we should dig a ditch and lure the Dothraki there to trap them".
Surprise showed on her face.
"And how do you intend to lure the Dothraki there?" she asked and pointed at the ditch. "I know they are hot-headed, but I doubt they are stupid."
"True," Jon agreed. "But I have an idea that could solve this problem. Do you recall the fog that covers the plains and valleys before sunset?
Realization washed over her face.
"The fog would hide your trap," she surmised, but there was still a hint of discontent visible on her face. She looked even more beautiful like this: her amethyst eyes narrowed in concentration and her pink lips pursed as she pondered over their plan. "But how do you intend to lure them there?"
"That would be my task," Tito explained proudly."I have scouted the landscape for an appropriate battlefield. I know the land better than anyone. It would be no problem for me to lure them there. I did this before in our campaign in Qohor."
"I see," Dany replied and pointed at the men placed at the flanks. "You told me that the Dothraki attack in waves and that a khalasar can have up to thousand riders. How can you prevent them from simply overcoming your flanks and avoiding the ditch in front?"
"Well, the ditch is supposed to look more like a half-moon and will be dug between two hills. We could even use the earth to built the hills ourselves," Jon explained and broke one of the twigs to place the two pieces at the flanks. It didn't look like a half-moon, but he was sure that Dany had enough imagination to understand what he meant. "The flanks would also be protected by a shield wall and archers. We could also put up stakes to keep the enemy at bay."
"I see," Dany replied and moved closer, kneeling down beside Aemon. His son eyed them each with wide grey-purple eyes. Jon could only imagine what he was thinking.
What are these stupid grown-ups doing with my precious toys?
"And how do you intend to employ the dragons?" she asked curiously.
"Simple… the dragon's task would be to burn the trapped Dothraki," he explained and picked one of the dragon figurines from the stack of toys placed next to Aemon. The second dragon was still in Aegon's mouth.
"Like this," Jon showed her and smashed the dragon into the Dothraki riders. Aemon followed suit and threw his own dragon on their own men. He gurgled happily and Jon patted his curly head. "Good work, but next time you should attack the enemy."
"They have arrows," Dany countered quietly. "The Dothraki could shoot the dragons from the sky and I doubt their flames are yet strong enough to burn all these warrior. They could still overwhelm our flanks or retreat."
"I doubt the Dothraki would have time for that," Tito added more seriously."Jon suggested to fill the ditch with oil. The harvest of the firegrass was plentiful. All we would need is a few gallons and we could fill both the ditch and drench the battlefield. The rest would be left to the dragonfire."
Dany shuddered and fell silent. At first he thought she was simply disgusted by their plan, but when she started to draw invisible lines behind the Dothraki warriors he knew she was merely pondering over their battle plan.
"You should have the dragons attack the rear once the brunt of the Dothraki force has entered the battlefield. Then they would be really trapped…in a ring of fire."
"A pit of fire," Tito added sardonically, a smile spreading over his lips. "The only appropriate place for this bastards. Hell on earth."
Jon didn't add anything to Tito's words. He held no love for the Dothraki, but he was only considering this plan, because it would be the only way to win. Tito told him that the Lhazareen would be able to muster around seven-thousand men-at-arms, by far not enough to fight a horde of Dothraki, but the use of the dragons shift the balance in their favour. Not that his plan would ever be accepted by the assembly, but it was a nice way to occupy one's mind.
"And you intend to present this plan on the assembly?" Dany asked expectantly.
Jon shrugged his shoulders.
"I doubt they would listen," he replied his gaze flickering to Tito. His friend nodded his agreement.
"My brother is very eager to fight, but the chiefs of Hesh and Kosrak are not like my brother. The chief of Hesh is a landowner and the chief of Kosrak is a former merchant. They prefer to stay on the safe side."
"I see," Dany replied and graced Tito with a smile. "Will you stay for supper?"
Tito shook his head, despite the smile playing on his lips.
"My sister invited me to take supper with her children," he explained and rose to his feet. "Another time."
"Another time," Jon added and started to put away the toys. Aemon didn't approve and started to wail. Jon let go of his task and picked him up. This never failed to calm his Aemon.
"All this work you and Tito put into this…it is a shame that nothing will come of it," Dany remarked and pulled the pot from the cookfire. A pleasant smell filled Jon's nostrils and he went to retrieve the bowls while carrying Aemon on the other arm.
"Here," he said and placed them on the ground next to Dany. "But you are right. It is a shame. Tito hopes he will be allowed to speak before the assembly."
"Knowing Tito he might even convince these stubborn chiefs," Dany replied and filled the bowls.
"True," Jon replied and placed Aemon back on the carpet next to him. Then he picked the dragon from the heap of toys and handed it back to him. He smiled and started to gnaw again. Smelling the food, Ghost came to join them and placed himself on the carpet, probably hoping to get the leftovers, though he had already received a good amount of meat. "But I doubt even Tito's charm would be enough. The way he speaks about the chiefs makes them appear very…very stubborn. Well, whatever it is worth. I liked your idea," he added and started to eat. It was rabbit stew spiced with the sharp fruits the Lhazareen liked to put into their food.
"My idea?" she asked, slightly confused.
"To attack the Dothraki from the rear," he explained."I didn't think of that."
She beamed and broke the bread.
"Speaking of battle plans," she added amusedly. "You said that you have too few men…I would also employ the women. Almost all of them know how to use a bow."
"A short-range bow," Jon corrected her, but her idea was not without merit. Shooting burning arrows on the enemy wouldn't be hard to do and placed at the flanks even the arrows with the shorter range would be able to reach their enemy. "But you are right. More men are always good…or better said more archers. Yet I doubt that the men would like to see their women fight against a Dothraki horde."
Dany frowned at that and dipped the bread in the stew. She chewed quietly, before continuing to speak.
"Aren't the women the ones who suffer the most when the Dothraki capture them? The men may get chained, but the women get raped. Do they not deserve revenge for all the woe instilled on them by the hands of the Dothraki?"
"Of course, they do," Jon assured her, even if wouldn't want her to Dany was stubborn and Jon would need her help to control the dragons. Besides, Arya would wash his ears if she ever heard Jon speak like this.
...
Daenerys
They placed three wooden chairs in the middle of the large courtyard, elevated above a hundred cushioned seats. The elevated seats belonged to the chiefs of the three major cities and the cushioned seats to the chiefs representing the smaller towns and hamlets. Above the wooden seats hung the banner of each of the three cities. The banner of Lhazosh showed a white sheep on a green background. The banner of Hesh showed a gallon of wheat and a vine of grapes. The banner of Kosrak showed a herd of black sheep on a white background.
As outsiders Dany and Jon would have usually been seated at the outer ranks, but Tito insisted they be seated next to him.
Thus Dany had a good view on the men that assembled here in Lhazosh. Chief Mallor headed the event and was garbed in his leather armour, a white pelt thrown over his shoulders. Below his feet rested his shield and spear. The chief of Kosrak was less impressive than Tito's brother. He was big-bellied man who looked probably never saw a battlefield. The Chief of Hesh was thin like a reed and marked by age. Among the lower-ranked chiefs she found younger men, some of them carrying scars.
Chief Mallor tapped his spear on the ground to get the attention of the whispering crowd. At once they stopped and silence reigned.
A weary smile showed on Chief Mallor's face as he addressed the two other chiefs in a friendly, but also formal tone.
"Be welcome here, brothers. I am thankful that you all came here. More than a week ago my men a Dothraki horde was sighted. This means it will only be a matter of time, before the first town falls prey to the plundering horde. I know your hearts are stricken by fear, but the attacks are constantly increasing. The Dothraki are like dogs. They smell our fear and they think us weak. We need to take up our spears to show them that we are not sheep waiting for slaughter. Only then will they stop their vicious attacks."
The younger chiefs cheered, but the elderly men muttered and carried disapproving looks.
"They don't look very enthusiastic," Jon remarked quietly.
"No," she agreed quietly and squeezed his hand. "They don't."
Now the Chief of Kosrak spoke.
"Your words are daring, but I have no interest to sacrifice my men unnecessarily. How many Dothraki were sighted?"
"A horde of thirty-thousand…meaning around fifteen-thousand riders," Chief Mallor recounted what Tito had told her only a few hours ago. "We could muster around seven-thousand men if we band together. If we fight cleverly we could…," he continued, but the coughing of the Chief of Hesh interrupted his speech. This earned the man snorts from Chief Mallor's supporters.
He carried himself with the arrogance of a man that thought himself above the other men in the assembly.
"Why should we waste our men in another useless battle when we have our city walls to protect us against the enemy? The Dothraki barbarians will never be able to overcome our walls."
His supporters clapped, but Chief Mallor's dark gaze told her everything she needed to know. There was no good blood between these two men.
"Sadly, not all of Lhazar can be hidden away behind high walls, oh revered Chief!" mocked Chief Mallar."And the day might come when the Dothraki shed their past ways and learn how to overcome our walls. But it is no surprise. You are old and you will probably never see this day."
"You dare!" the old man snapped, but the young man seated at his side took his arm and whispered something in his ear. He had a similar sharp face. Dany believed him to be his son, though he lacked the soft body of his father. He was strongly-built and carried the scars of a warrior.
"I am only speaking the truth!" Chief Mallor shouted and tapped his spear on the ground as if the emphasis his point. "Our fields will be burned, our wives will be raped and our people will be sold into slavery while we sit behind high walls. You speak so highly and consider yourself above the barbaric Dothraki, but you don't want to lift a single finger to protect our people. I call that craven."
"Enough!" the young man, who had calmed the old Chief of Hesh, shouted. "My Father is still the revered Chief. You speak out of turn, Chief Mallor. My father was merely pointing out that such a fight would be a wasteful endeavour. His caution has nothing to do with cowardice. I know the strength of the Dothraki, but even I do not think we are able to win such a battle."
"I agree with young Jamshid," the Chief of Kosrak added and leaned back in his chair. "Such a fight would serve no purpose. Kosrak brought in the majority of its harvest. The barbarians can try to steal it from behind our walls."
"No purpose," Chief Mallor muttered angrily. "And this coming from a man who never held a spear in his hand. Well, Lhazosh and even Hesh have yet to bring in the harvest. I would fight alone if I had the men to do so."
"Do it then," the Chief of Hesh added smugly. "I am sure your forefathers will greet you in the next world for your valour, Chief Mallor. But please leave us out of this madness."
"Madness," someone repeated anda interrupted their exchange. Dany was not surprised that Tito's mother dared to interrupt the man.
She promised to consider it.
"Why is protecting one's people madness? Or are the walls of Hesh enough to protect all your people from the approaching enemy? Did you not swear on the Great Shepherd to guard your people like your own children? Or did you forget the vow you gave when you ascended to your position upon your father's death twenty years ago. You might not, but I do."
"Why does the woman speak?" he Chief of Hesh asked and acted as if he hadn't even heard Tito's mother.
"The woman is my late father's wife," Chief Mallor snapped. "And you will show her the respect she deserves or I will cut out your tongue!"
"Do it then," the elderly man taunted, but it was again Young Jamshids' intervention that ended the impending fight.
"Father," Young Jamshid said and patted his shoulder. "Allow her to speak."
"Very well," the man grumbled. "Speak then and I will try to listen."
Tito's mother smiled and turned to look at Dany.
Dany knew that this might happen, but she felt as if all air had been drained out of her body when as everyone started to look at her.
"Some of you might have heard about the foreigners residing in our city," Tito's mother explained and jerked her head at Dany and Jon."And their dragons. Jon of Winterfell offered to employ them in our favour."
Deadly silence reigned as their eyes burned into Dany's. Jon looked confused, which was no surprise. Dany doubted he understood all they had said.
"Tito's mother told them that we are prepared to employ our dragons in their favour," she translated.
His eyes widened in surprise, understanding washing over his features. She had told him about her talk with Tito's mother, but she gave no promise.
I will think about it, she had told Dany only yesterday.
"I see," Jon said and straightened himself.
"It is true…we have dragons…and we intend to fight at your side," Jon said in broken Lhazareen that earned him amused laughter from the younger children.
"We saw these dragons," the Chief of Hesh remarked. He sounded unimpressed. "They are not bigger than horses. How can they kill fifteen-thousand Dothraki screamers without getting pierced by their arrows?"
Dany frowned at that and decided to go for a more blunt approach. Only an hour ago saw Rhaegon and Sonarys circling over the city gates. They should hear well enough.
"Let me show you!" she declared and cleared her throat.
"Ñuha riñar! aōha muña brōzas syt ao!" she exclaimed once, twice and a third time.
Jon stared at her, but she was sure that he understood what she said. He was getting better at High Valyrian, though he liked to downplay his achievements.
After the third time the sound of wings drowned out the muttering of the crowd. First came Rhaegon, his wings as dark as the night, as he descended on the deserted part of the courtyard. Sonarys followed suit and landed not far away, his eyes fixed on Jon, as if expecting his command. Viserion came at last, his silver-streaked wings glimmering in the sunlight.
Silence reigned.
"You are right. The dragons cannot burn fifteen-thousand men alone," Tito added his voice. "But together we may be able to give the Dothraki horde a defeat they will never forget. Then they will finally understand that the Lhazareen are not as weak as they think."
All were stunned, especially the Chief of Kosrak, who was trembling like a leaf. Only the Chief of Hesh continued to sneer in distrust while Chief Mallor smiled.
Did he know about their plans?
"Then show us what your dragons can do, little girl," he taunted, his dark eyes fixed on his.
Dany was tempted to fulfil his promise, but Young Jamshid was again the voice of reason.
"I don't think a demonstration is necessary, but I have to agree with my father's scepticism. I doubt your dragons can take up a horde of Dothraki. Their arrows are deadly," he said in broken Bastard Valyrian, his eyes fixed on Dany.
Then Jon rose to his feet and met the young man's gaze.
"True," Jon agreed. "But not if we are able to use the dragons to our full advantage," he added and turned to look first at Tito and then at Chief Mallor. "I have a plan…I don't expect you to agree, but at least let me explain."
"This is preposterous!" the Chief of Hesh snapped, but Young Jamshid raised his hand and winked at his father. Surprisingly, the man obeyed.
"I lead our man-at-arms. I want to hear him speak," Young Jamshid declared and turned to look at Chief Mellor."What do you say, Chief?"
A heavy moment of silence followed before Chief Mellor spoke, a seldom smile playing on his lips.
"We will hear Jon of Winterfell."
…
Ser Barristan
For three days he had wandered through Braavos without rest. He asked every sailor, every peddler and every whore if they had heard something about dragons. Yet half of them didn't either understand him or thought him mad.
He wanted to curse the Spider, yet he was still a man of the Kingsguard and desperation was driving him onwards.
But I am in dire need of rest , he knew and felt the weariness in his old bones.
A night of rest should help, he thought and made his way back to Ragman's Port. Whores winked at him as he passed, peddlers sold their oysters and a little girl pointed at his white beard.
Brothels and taverns lined the long cobbled street, the smell of fish and salt his constant companion.
Barristan didn't want to waste much coin and decided to rent a room in the brothel Happy Port . Naturally, the girls came swarming around him like a swarm of butterflies. Most of them could be his granddaughters, but that never kept whores from seeking out customers.
Tired, he settled on a table not far from the hearth. It had rained all morning and he was drenched from head to toe.
For a piece of coin of the girls brought him a bowl of soup and bread. She was a pretty girl, golden-haired and green-eyed, though it bothered him when she started to ask him questions.
Soon he also knew her name. Irina.
Maybe I should ask her. The other whores knew nothing of dragons, but it is worth a try.
"Say," he addressed the girl and graced her with a grand-fatherly smile. "Did you hear the rumours about the dragons?"
Surprisingly, the girl started to smile and nodded her head in confirmation.
"I did," she said and took a sip from her cup of wine. "But I have yet to see a dragon. Did you come here to find them?"
"Maybe," Barristan replied vaguely and shrugged his shoulders. "Where did you hear about the dragons? Any piece of information will earn you another piece of coin."
The girl laughed, her voice soft like the sound of bells.
"There is a girl serving in the Temple of Light. She told my sister that she was there when the dragons were born. She said that a girl laid dragon eggs into a pyre and stepped inside."
Barristan frowned at that. They say King Aegon the Unlikely tried to hatch dragons and burned down Summerhall. This story sounded just as mad, but it was better than nothing.
"Where can I find the girl who told you this wondrous tale?"
"She comes here almost every night to preach to the whores," she answered. "You could go to the Temple of Light or wait here. I am sure she will come. The other brothel owners don't tolerate priests in their halls, but our Mistress is different. The girl's mother was a good friend of her."
Barristan nodded his head and sighed deeply. What do I have to lose?
"I will heed your advice," he told the girl and sent her on her way. Then he finished his meal and returned to his room.
He slept for an hour before he returned to watch the coming and going of the guests. His time as a member of the Kingsguard should have thought him patience, but it was harder than expected.
Truly, Watching the coming and going of the guests was the only occupation he could find. It was no surprised that so many tongues mixed here at Happy Port. Men from all over Essos came here to enjoy the presence of the pretty whores, yet he found no Westerosi.
They prefer the better brothels , one of the girls had explained to him after striking up another conversation.
Thus when he spotted a man speaking in a strong northern accent he was rather surprised. When he spotted a merman embellished on his vest and cloak he was even more surprised.
House Manderly , he knew and took in the massive man surrounded by two guards. He was feasting on a massive piece of chicken, the grime running down his chin and neck. Two whores kept him company, one of them graced with massive breasts. Just looking at her made Barristan forget about his years of abstinence.
May the Mother give me strength , he muttered himself and gulped down his cup of wine.
"Oh, this one is like you," Irina, who had joined him not long ago, remarked."But he came here to find a boy and a wolf."
"A wolf?" he asked in confusion.
"Aye, he came her to search for this boy with the white wolf. Marlyn was able to recall him. He stayed here for a week in company of a pretty silver-haired girl. She was one of us…they marked her with the tears of woe."
"Tears of woe," he muttered. "What does that mean?"
"That she was a slave," the girl continued to explain and jerked her head at the massive man."The man also said that his Lord of…of ...Winterhell wants him to find the boy, because he is his brother…Or was it cousin?"
Robb Stark has no cousins other than the Lord of the Vale , he knew and rose to his feet. He didn't know why, but the story woke his interest.
"It is good to find a fellow Westerosi among these strangers," Ser Barristan remarked and graced the man with a smile. "Where do you hail from, my Lord?"
The massive man put his goblet away, his face flushed red from the wine. Yet he graced Barristan with a jolly smile.
"White Harbour," he replied and sent the whores on their way. "Where do you hail from, friend?"
"The Stormlands," he answered quickly. "What brings you here to Braavos?"
"To find my Lord's brother…his illegitimate brother. An important task my Lord Father thinks…well I cannot complain. The wine is good and I have my answers. Sadly, the boy left. I doubt my Lord will be pleased with this answer, but I can hardly search through all of Essos for a bastard boy that ran off with a whore."
"Wouldn't be the first time this kind of thing happens," Barristan remarked. "Pretty girls often cause boys to forget about their honour. Forgive my intrusion, I was just curious."
"No bother," the drunken Northman replied. "I will stay few more days…to settle a few contracts. You may join me if you like…I am always happy to speak to a fellow Westerosi."
"It would be my pleasure," Ser Barristan replied, though rather disappointed. He hoped for more. Thus he spent the evening in company of Wylis Manderly. It was getting late when the promised girl appeared.
She looked just like Irina described her. Red-haired and blue eyed. She was also dressed in a crimson robe.
As expected, she walked around, spoke to the girls and preached about her god.
"Pretty girl, a shame that she serves this strange god…I heard Stannis Baratheon keeps one of them as his advisors…," Wylis Manderly slurred, but Barristan rose to his feet and winked at the girl.
She started at him in confusion, but then she came to their table, a polite smile playing on her lips.
"What can I do for you?"
"I heard that you could provide me with an answer to my questions. Did you hear the rumour about the dragons?" he asked in low voice. The Northman next to him was barely listening, his thoughts clouded from the wine. Barristan doubted he understood what he was talking about, but he started to laugh when he heard about the dragons.
"Dragons…my you are a strange fellow," he muttered and gulped down another goblet.
"I was there when the dragons were born…I was there when the God of Light granted us a miracle."
Barristan smiled.
"Please tell me…Who woke the dragons and where does this person hide? I mean no harm to him or her."
The girl looked hesitant, but she eventually answered.
"She called herself Dany and she came to live in my father's house. She lived with a young man, her husband. Jon, they called him and he had a white wolf."
"White wolf?" Manderly asked, suddenly stone sober. "Are you sure this boy was called Jon? Can you describe what he looked like?"
"I am sure," the girl confirmed and looked utterly confused. "He had dark hair and grey eyes."
"Gods be good!" Manderly exclaimed and nearly spilled the wine over the table, but Barristan was quick enough and caught the cup. "And the girl…his wife…What did she look like?" he Lord continued with his questioning.
"She had silver hair and purple eyes…she said she is a Princess…and her son…she gave him the name of a dragonlord."
Barristan gasped.
"Dragonlord?" he asked and shuddered. "What name did she give the boy?"
"Aemon…for the Dragonknight," the girl answered as if she was recounting a tale.
"Where did she go?" Barristan asked, still unable to believe what he just heard.
"Lhazar," the girl replied and Wylis Manderly cursed.
"I fear the wine was too much," Wylis Manderly muttered and rubbed his hands over his flushed face. "Dragons…dragonlords…I am going mad."
"Don't fret, my Lord," Barristan remarked and patted his shoulders. He felt the urge to laugh, but he knew that this was not the right moment. "I don't think you are going mad, but I doubt this is a coincidence. I think we are searching for the same people. I am searching for the girl, a Princess of House Targaryen, and you are searching for the illegitimate son of Lord Stark. I don't know how, but it seems fate brought us together."
Wylis Manderly stared at him in disbelief.
"Who the fuck are you?"
Ser Barristan smiled and rose to his feet.
"Ser Barristan Selmy," he replied and lowered his head. "My name is Ser Barristan Selmy."
...