Last Sprout of Spring
Dark Wings, Dark Words
"Now, now," the King said kindly. "Leave poor Ser Duncan alone, Rhae. I doubt he's used being attacked like this."
"Attacked!" the girl exclaimed indignantly. Dunk noticed how the King reached casually for the bloodstained silk and pushed it to one side where Rhae would not look at it. "I am not a knight with a sword!"
No, but she was even more dangerous. Dunk wasn't used to be looked at with such adoration. The Seven only knew what embellishments Egg had fed his sister. At the same time, the knot in his chest loosened a little. If the boy would tell such tales, it wasn't likely that he'd want to leave Dunk and return to his princely life, after all.
"No but you're dangerous," Daeron said – an uncanny echo of Dunk's own thoughts. "Now, if you behave, I might think of having both of them here to break their fast with us."
She nodded, pleased. The smile lit her entire face, showing a tooth that had recently fallen. For some reason, that made Dunk sad, his eyes going to the strip of silk with the terrifying staining.
"I suppose Egg will have to do," she said with a generous air. Her brother made a face but didn't object.
She turned round and headed back for their corner.
Daeron's hand shot out and caught his grandson's shoulder despite the pain the movement clearly exacted. "Don't go too near," he said in a low voice. "And don't drink from her cup."
The boy nodded, his frightened eyes going to the red stains, and Daeron released him, closing his eyes for a moment.
"He's very healthy," Dunk heard himself say, awkwardly. It felt weird to try and soothe a king's anguish. "And very perky," he added, to his horror.
Daeron opened his eyes and smiled faintly. "I have noticed that about him," he agreed. "He's his mother's son. And his grandmother's grandson," he added.
Well, he should be. Egg was nothing like his father, occasional haughtiness notwithstanding. And he didn't seem to resemble his royal grandfather either. He had to take after someone.
"Who are you?" Daeron asked abruptly.
Dunk scratched his head and replied with equal frankness, "I don't know, my lord. I am no one. And yet I am the man Prince Maekar entrusted his son to. A hedge knight. Not very good with sword," he admitted.
"You seem to be good enough in many enough things to attract Aegon's loyalty like this!" Daeron paused. "Are you sure you don't want to accept my son's offer? Life doesn't seem to be kind to you right now."
Dunk did not hesitate. "I am sure, Your Grace."
A small smile crossed Daeron's lips. "Good. Have some more wine. And tell me more about your future plans."
Dunk started talking, haltingly at first and then with more confidence. From time to time, he paused to help himself to the pork and the soft bread that the King ordered to be brought over for his young visitors kept talking with his mouth half full. Nothing could stop him, now that someone showed interest. Someone who wasn't a boy of eight anyway. With the corner of his eye, he could see Egg doing the same. To his relief, he wasn't sitting too close to his sister.
"Where is my father, Grandfather?" the boy asked, using a pause as Dunk was busy chewing. "Why isn't he here?"
Daeron frowned. "You know, Aegon, that's a good question." He looked at Dunk. "Would you summon someone from the antechamber?"
Dunk did, albeit reluctantly. He wouldn't regret it if Maekar Targaryen failed to make appearance at all but as bizarre as it was to him, Egg simply loved his father, as hard as Maekar was.
"And then, we might go to Oldtown," he went on once a servant was dispatched to bring Maekar. "Egg says that we might visit his brother while there."
Daeron smiled again, with the same fondness that had lit his face while first looking at Egg. "Aemon will be delighted," he said. "And Daella will be very envious of Rhae that she managed to meet you while Daella couldn't. We left her at King's Landing. Both girls are quite fascinated with you."
That didn't ring true. "But they don't even know me!"
"True. But Daeron and their father told them enough. They both like you."
That was the last surprise in the long list of such shocks for the evening. He had been under the impression that Prince Maekar disliked him just as much as he disliked the Prince. At the same time, he was surprised that the King was so well acquainted with Maekar's thoughts. One would have thought that the blaming about Baelor's death that was already spreading through the kingdoms would start in the Red Keep. Or would it? Daeron didn't seem to blame Dunk, so perhaps he would blame Maekar even less.
"But first, Dorne, right?" the King asked and smiled at some thought of his. "I'd recommend keeping Aegon away from Starfall, though! They don't nurse any particular liking of Targaryen princes going there under an alias there."
The eyes resting on his grandchildren were full or mirth and a little sadness. The contrast between the two children was striking – the richly clad dark-haired Princess and the bald boy who might have come straight from cleaning the stables. What use there was of Rhae's charm if it was to be given to the Yellow Handmaiden to lay at the Stranger's feet?
Maekar entered the chamber on soundless feet. Looking at him, Dunk had the distinct impression that he had hoped the King would have – what? Retired? Gone to sleep? But as it was, he merely bowed before giving Dunk a brief nod of recognition and going straight to his children. Dunk didn't have the time to decide whether he should bow or not.
"No," Daeron said, noticing his confusion. "Not while the King is present. Inclining your head will suffice. You do the same when he leaves – if he does before I do. If not, then a bow it is."
"I'll remember, Your Grace," Dunk said, although he couldn't see the need. It wasn't as if he'd spend his life around kings and princes and… why was Daeron smiling like this?
"Where have you been?" Daeron asked, his voice harsh, when Maekar finally came to them.
The Prince shrugged. "I was busy," he said and immediately turned to Dunk. "Aegon is very pleased with you. I hope you're half as pleased with him. It looks like I might find myself owning you a greater debt than I previously thought."
The last remnants of fear melted away. No, the boy had no intention of deserting him. He smiled and did a little congratulatory post in his head to himself. "I am," he replied most sincerely.
Maekar nodded curtly. "It's good to know this. As you would have noticed, he's far more resilient than he looks like. Have no fear to be demanding."
And do my best not to let him turn out like Daeron and Aerion, Dunk wondered but before he had the time to assure the Prince that he would be fearsomely exacting, Maekar had already shifted his focus on the King. "I hoped you would have retired," he said. "It was a long journey."
"And you seem to have undertaken even more of my duties than we intended," Daeron replied. "What's going on? Has there been a missive from King's Landing?"
"Yes," Maekar said bleakly. "And it spells trouble."
He didn't look keen on specifying what the trouble was but it seemed that had more to do with his concern over the King's poorly state than any reluctance to discuss it in the presence of a hedge knight. What a change a few months and a kinslaying can bring forward, Dunk thought, quite uncharitably.
The King looked suddenly smaller and even wearier if such a thing was possible. He waited for his son to explain and Maekar seemed reluctant to, looking at the children, at Dunk, everywhere but the King.
Suddenly, his gaze became sharp. He reached over for the strip of silk and Daeron's hand shot forward to stop him. The fight lasted no more than a few seconds – the sick old man was no match for Maekar in sheer strength. The Prince opened the small piece of cloth and his face lost colour, his eyes immediately moving to his daughter. Dunk realized that while Daeron and Maekar must have been fearing the disease well before, that was probably the first time the girl had actually coughed blood. That explained why she hadn't looked at the silk to check for red splashes – most likely she didn't know she might have produced them. Perhaps she hadn't been even told about their apprehensions.
"It's time for her to rest," Maekar spoke. He had regained his self-possession and his voice sounded even.
"No," his father said. "She's clearly happy. Let her be. But I want her to have a cup of warm milk with honey, to sleep better. I think that's enough for now. Don't scare her."
Maekar considered this. "Fine," he said. "At least it's warm here."
Daeron nodded. "Good," he said. "Now tell me about that trouble. Is it Grandison writing?"
"No," Maekar replied. "As far as I can say, he's trying to get things properly under control and thinks that even if you return, you won't be able to do much. I agree. But I also happen to agree with Brynden Rivers that we should know."
"Know what?" For the first time, Daeron's voice rose.
"A plague," Maekar replied. "Something that wipes people in King's Landing faster than they can be buried. Here. Read."
Daeron started reading the parchment his son handed him, aging further right before Dunk. His lips started moving silently along with the eyes. He looked stricken.
"Your Grace?" Dunk murmured, turning to Maekar.
"Yes?"
"Which quarters are most affected?" It was strange to think of Flea Bottom as his home. He had never had a home there. His memories were not happy ones. He was surprised to find out how much he cared.
Maekar smiled grimly. "All of them. Flea Bottom. The Street of Silk. Aegon's Hill…"
Dunk blinked, shocked. "All of them? But I thought…" By the well-known laws of nature, such diseases struck the slums first.
"I also thought so," the Prince agreed. "But it looks like no one is safe there. It's only been five days, and the victims are numerous, from all circles. There have been a few cases even in the Red Keep itself." He looked away.
Dunk understood. "His Grace told me that Princess Daella was still at King's Landing," he said.
Maekar nodded. "She is. They're taking all precautions in the castle but despite that, my daughter could be infected. If that happens, she'll probably die. None of the known cures seem to work."