Last Sprout of Spring

Black Like Dread

In the silence that followed, the King read the letter to the end. His eyes remained fixed where they had moved to the last line and for a moment, Dunk got scared that Daeron might be going through a new down in health brought by the shock of the news. Now he realized why Prince Maekar had delayed his coming. Actually, he wished he had brought Egg over to his father wherever Maekar had been! It was terrible watching a man unravel before his eyes.

The stillness brought the children over, too. Egg demanded to know what was going on with that persistence that sometimes drove Dunk insane and Rhae circled over the table and leaned against her grandfather's chair. "Grandfather?" she asked and then, remembering that she was not supposed to breathe over other people, turned her head aside. "Are you in pain?"

Daeron startled and tried to smile, stroking her cheek. "No, my dear. I'm fine."

He made a terrible liar and the girl must have realized it. Her face scrunched in concern. "I think you're ill," she insisted. "Should I summon a maester?"

"Go to your bed," Maekar said sharply. "It's late. You have just a little more time to talk to Aegon but then I want you to rest."

She clearly disliked it but when she looked at her grandfather hoping that he'd countermand the order, Daeron nodded tersely and then his lips tightened with the pain of motion. Silently, Egg and Rhae withdrew back but did not resume their conversation. Instead, they were very obviously trying to eavesdrop on their father and grandfather and the two men were so wrapped in this new and unexpected trouble that they didn't even notice. They had forgotten about Dunk already and he wondered whether he should simply leave without drawing attention to himself. But that would mean leaving Egg here and for some reason, he disliked the idea. Or it would mean taking him away from Rhae too soon and after seeing the blood she had coughed, somehow it didn't seem right. And finally, he couldn't really leave unnoticed. Not with those huge feet of his – and he didn't trust the floor one bit. It was too well polished, more than any floor should be. Since now the Prince had taken his chair, he took another one, simpler, but thankfully, a little away from the table.

The flames in the fireplace burned lower. Their crackling intensified and for a moment, Dunk imagined that it was the King's bones that he was hearing. Daeron really looked like his skin would burst in splinters any moment now, right before he died.

The minutes dragged on. The King was saying something and Maekar was shaking his head in angry disagreement. Briefly, Dunk wondered who would win this clash of wills before occupying himself with lighting some new candles before the ones they spluttered and became extinct. The new ones weren't as good. They were tallow and more shapeless, only crudely resembling candles at all but Dunk liked them better. Bee wax was too scented for his taste. It looks like the lord he was serving was less wealthy than he wanted to look. Dunk wondered how many months the hedge knights and servants would pay for the expenses of this royal visit by living on porridge.

The words scare, riots, and unburied started inhabiting the conversation all too frequently. The children edged closer without anyone paying them any mind.

"In two days, you must accompany Rhae to Summerhall," Maekar stated. " I insist." His speech had suddenly become slower and softer but it was clearly not because he had composed himself. Absently, Dunk wondered about the late Queen. The Prince had so obviously not taken after his father. Perhaps Daeron had taken the easy way out with his lady wife because Dunk could not imagine living daily with someone having a temper like this and not giving up under their forceful personality.

To his surprise, the king sat up straight and glared at his son with anger that equaled Maekar's. "I already told you that the only place I am going to is King's Landing," he snapped. "Why are we even still discussing it?"

"Because it's dangerous, that's why! You aren't this healthy anymore and I will not have you take further risks. Bloodraven agrees with me," Maekar added, as if that settled the matter. "Or maybe it's I who agree with him," he added honestly. "The capitol is the worst place for you to be right now."

To Dunk's surprise, Daeron laughed, albeit harshly and briefly. "You don't say so! I've always thought that in a true, great crisis the two of you can actually find yourselves in agreement. You proved it years ago. But I didn't envision it would take quite such a disaster for it to repeat." And then, the moment of levity was gone as fast as it had appeared. "When I decide to take your advice – or Brynden's, for that matter! – you will know it before everyone else. This time, I am not taking it. I am not running away in the hour of need just because the Stranger might decide that he needs an old man to add to his collection."

"But it isn't as if you can change something!" Maekar exploded. "It's careless. It's madness!"

"And still, it is the decision I've made and I stay behind it," the King said, once again calm and collected. "We're leaving at dawn."

That only seemed to disturb Maekar further. "We are?" he said. "Look at yourself! Look at Rhae! Neither of you is capable of going anywhere. You need rest. A few days would be best but a night and a day is a must."

"Rhae will stay here for a few days, of course," Daeron said, as if it was self-evident. "And then, she'll head for Summerhall. If there was a way to have you accompany her, I would have taken it but…"

"But if the situation is half as bad as Bloodraven says, every man who knows what he's doing will be needed," Maekar finished.

Daeron nodded, reconciled with it. "I wish it wasn't so," he said. "But the Seven know that Aerys and Rhaegel cannot be counted on, although they are both in the Red Keep."

Maekar didn't seem to mind. "I still think that between the three of us, Grandison, Bloodraven, and I could deal with the situation," he said. "There's no need for you to take the risk. It's bad enough that Valarr and Matarys are there."

"And…" Daeron looked at him and didn't quite finish.

Maekar nodded.

"So, we're leaving at dawn," the King said again.

"You're in no state to travel!"

"I'm fine. I'm rising." Daeron actually did so and Dunk saw the beads of sweat pain brought on his forehead and temple. "It doesn't matter. If the people of King's Landing decide that I have abandoned them… I have to go back as soon as possible. They must have some fresh horses here. We'll buy them if we have to. But we're leaving first thing tomorrow."

Could one's very presence make such a difference, Dunk wondered. Why not? Baelor Breakspear's presence certainly would have. And he was quickly coming to realize that while having nothing of his son's charisma and vitality, Daeron resembled Baelor in one, very important aspect. He'd do what was right despite the risk to his own life.

"Sit down," Maekar sighed, helping him to do so. "Stay here," he added, looking at Dunk. "I still haven't seen the two of you properly. "

He bowed to the King and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" Daeron asked, anger coming back.

Maekar looked over his shoulder. "To give orders , of course! We're leaving tomorrow morning, right?"

A moment later, Dunk startled. He had never heard a door being slammed with such fury.

"So," Daeron said, motioning at Dunk so easily that it became clear. He had never doubted that he would win this exchange with Maekar, no matter how forceful his son's personality was. Dunk's respect grew. "I suggest that you speed up your plans."

"Speed up?" Dunk asked. The events were unfolding too fast. He truly couldn't catch up. What plans should he speed up? Why?"

"You told me that you and Aegon were going to Dorne," the King said impatiently. "Despite my men's best efforts, the sickness had already escaped King's Landing. It'll probably affect other areas of Westeros… well, of course I hope they won't be large… But you cannot stay here. It's a smooth terrain. Traveling is too easy and if the plague reaches here – gods forbid – it'll carry very, very easily. I want the two of you to leave with my granddaughter's entourage. Accompany her to Summerhall. Then, you can stay or you can go, as you please. Dorne is known for closing its borders very effectively when she needs to. And it's almost impossible to break through them unnoticed." He smiled a little. "There, you'll be as safe as possible, I believe. But you cannot stay here."

And if I refuse, Dunk wondered. Yes, Daeron was a king, after all. Arranging other people's lives for them, not thinking for a moment that they might not be pleased. If I refuse, he'll send Egg to Summerhall without me.

"We'll join the Princess' retinue, Your Grace."

Daeron nodded and made another attempt of smiling but it didn't quite work out. His regard moved to the children and Dunk could almost smell his fear for them. At this moment, no one else mattered to the King.

Early in the next morning the sleep of the castle was disturbed by the sounds of leaving. From his place close to the party, Dunk saw that both the King and Maekar were now eager to take to the road as soon as possible. Rhae had come out to see them off and although neither of them wanted to part ways with her by scolding her for going out into the cold morning mist, they clearly wanted to have her back inside. When they took their leave from their host, she rose on tiptoes, breaching the etiquette, and clung to her father first and then her grandfather. Her fear was evident. She had heard the conversation last night, as had Egg. Is she going to see them again, Dunk wondered.

"Look," Egg said when his grandfather entered the litter and the group started pouring out.

Dunk did. The tone of the boy's voice told him that whatever he'd see, it wouldn't be good and indeed, the green ivy climbing up the wall behind their backs was now dried-up, cracked, and black like dread.