Oberyn Martell grunted in annoyance, as he sat down at a table in the dingy tavern. It wasn't the rundown look of the establishment that displeased him, but the unwanted amount of attention he got here. His last visit to Volantis had only been months ago, but apparently he had left a far greater impression than he had intended. This was most troubling in his situation, as he knew that the spies were everywhere and their allegiance shifted for only a hand of coins.
His squire, young Arthur Lannister, sat down across from him. The boy was weary, rightfully so. In places like these it was better to be vigilant. All the wrong sort of people frequented such places. And the right kind, if you knew how to tell them apart from the scum. In places like this, they would find the men they could hire for their war, not in the clean and noble palaces of the merchant lords and their slaver friends.
"What are we doing here?" Arthur asked, as his eyes still roamed the tightly packed room.
"We are searching."
"Searching for what?"
"For trouble, if we are not careful. So be silent and learn." Oberyn grunted, as he ordered something to drink from a tavern wench. The girl returned swiftly and placed two cups and a flask in front of the Dornish prince, before she hurried away, as if he had frightened her to death or something. He had seen that she was a slave, a young one, too. But the fear made him curious. Had someone spread rumors about him? Again?
He filled both cups, noting with some satisfaction that the girl had the intelligence to bring them wine and not water. Though the wine here was little more than a red liquid that tasted as if someone had drank it before, the water in these rundown inns is usually so dirty that he would shit blood after drinking only half a cup.
"I really don't think that I should drink wine..." Arthur said, as Oberyn offered him one of the cups.
"Drink. It will calm your nerves and that will calm mine." He scoffed, as he realized that the boy thought himself too young to drink alcohol. Oberyn remembered his own first taste of wine. His own mother, the late ruling princess of Dorne, had given him the wine herself, after he had killed for the first time. He had been twelve at that time. There is no too young, only the right and the wrong moment to start. The moment was right for Arthur.
"But..."
"Drink," He insisted again. The boy took it hesitantly, before he sipped from the wine. He grimaced, but drank more as he saw Oberyn's grim expression.
"So this is what has become of Oberyn Martell. Oh how the mighty have fallen," a man laughed gruffly, before he sat down on the bank next to Oberyn, bumping against the table, nearly knocking Oberyn's cup over.
"Mero," Oberyn said, his face twisted as if he had tasted something foul. "I knew that this would be the kind of place where one can find the Titan's Bastard."
Arthur looked wide eyed at the man. And the man stared right back. Pale green eyes watched the young Lannister, an evil glint in them, as a twisted smirk split the man's red-gold beard. It was obvious that this man was bad news and Arthur had no intention to stay in Mero's company for longer than necessary. He knew this man's reputation and that of his Sellsword Company, the Second Sons.
"So now you are playing nurse for whiny little children, is that why you have run away from my company?" Mero asked, as he laughed boisterously. "Slave, more wine. And not this red piss you serve all others. I feel like celebrating." He yelled at the girl, who had served Oberyn before. The girl flinched and ran quickly to fetch the man's drink.
"I left because my time was up and my debt was paid, Mero. That and I did not like the change in leadership at that time." Oberyn replied callously.
Mero merely laughed again, before he gripped Oberyn's shoulder and leaned forward, so that his and Oberyn's faces were mere inches apart. The Dornish prince could smell the foul breath of the sellsword and wanted to wretch, but kept his expression firm, his gaze unyielding.
"Did you really expect the old man to let you lead the Second Sons? You, a green little western bastard." Mero showed a feral grin, as he laughed in Oberyn's face. "You delusional fool. Only a strong leader can lead the Second Sons. You would have destroyed us."
"And you haven't? From what I have heard the reputation of the Second Sons isn't worth the pile of shit your horse leaves behind on a day's march. I have heard of plans to move east, to Slavers Bay, where them employers don't care about your reputation, as long as you do everything without asking questions." Oberyn replied.
And Mero... He did what he always did. He merely laughed. Loudly. The slave girl came back with his wine and tried to avoid him as good as possible, but to no avail. Before she could get away he had already grabbed her and pulled her on his lap.
"Not so fast, maybe I want other services as well," Mero grinned lewdly, as he squeezed the girl's ass. She squirmed, but could do nothing to escape the strong man.
"For fuck's sake, Mero, go to a brothel if you cannot restrain yourself here. There are plenty of establishments here that do not care how rough you are with their property," Oberyn growled in annoyance.
"You have changed, Oberyn. You had been more fun, when you had been one of the Sons." Mero lamented, as he released the girl. The slave quickly fled, but not before he slapped her ass once more. "So, why are you here, in Volantis?"
"War, Mero, war. I can't believe I am saying this, but I am here to hire you and your sorry group of sword huggers." Oberyn said, before he took another large gulp from his own wine.
Mero snorted, as if he thought that Oberyn was joking. Only belatedly he realized that Oberyn had meant what he had said. "You are kidding. The Second Sons, fighting your wars in Westeros? You cannot be serious."
"What, are you scared?" Arthur asked tauntingly.
Oberyn cursed as he realized that he should have paid better attention to his squire, because Arthur had continued drinking and was obviously sloshed by the wine. Now the boy was much more audacious than appropriate in the situation.
"Listen, boy, you better shut your smart mouth or else I will remove your tongue with a rusty dagger, before I shove it up your ass. I don't care who your damn father is and what dumb lord he is, but you will show me respect or you will regret it." Mero thundered, all amusement gone from his face.
"You will not harm my squire, Mero, or you will answer to me. The boy is drunk and not thinking clearly, so ignore him." Oberyn interjected sharply. "And now back to my questions. How much do you want for the Second Sons? Can't be all that much, considering that no one here is willing to employ your company any more."
"Pah, you cannot pay me enough to set foot on that cursed land you call Westeros. No good will come from it. You want me to come with you to the west and serve you precious little princess, only to destroy us once we are no longer of use to you."
"Princess Rhaenys is an honorable person and a she would never betray you, as long as you obey her rules." Oberyn felt insulted by this distrust in his niece. No one who had ever met Rhaenys would believe that she would betray others. She was truly her father's daughter, something that everyone who knew Rhaegar would say after spending a few moments in her presence.
"Honorable. Only your high lords and ladies can afford to be honorable. And we lowly scum from the east have to be happy to be allowed to lick the dirt of their boots. You have been one of us, Oberyn, you should know better than to expect that the Second Sons would adhere to the laws a little princess dictates us. The Second Sons are paid to do their job. Our job is killing whatever stands in the way of our employer. No questions asked, no fancy rules to bind us. You give us gold, we give you the heads of your enemies."
"There are plenty of enemies in Westeros. A war has started. A big one. This war will make the Usurper's rebellion look like child play in comparison. It is do or die now. Either we succeed or the Seven Kingdoms will fall apart under the rule of those inept Baratheon bastards."
"That ain't our war. That ain't our world. Go and find yourself some other idiots to win that war. Try the Golden Company if you must, I have no doubt that you have the coin to pay for their services." Mero retorted heatedly. "The Second Sons will go east. There we can do what we do best without anyone doubting our ways."
"Think carefully about your answer, Mero. This may be the last chance you get to redeem the Second Sons. Should you go to Slavers Bay, the reputation of your beloved company will be worth less than that of the Brave Companions. But if you really want that, than go. Become murdering little bastards with no honor. Ruin the legacy of several hundred years of proud service." He fixed Mero with a cold glare, daring him to answer.
"We are done here. There is nothing more to say." Mero said, as he stood up, "Pay the wine, see it as the last of your debt to me. If the gods will it, we will never meet again. You are no longer the eager young man who had been one of my brothers in the company."
"The day will come when you will regret this decision, Mero. But suit yourself," Oberyn wasn't sure whether he should be glad or disappointed. He really did not like what Mero had done with the Second Sons and employing them could have had a bad impact on Rhaenys reputation, but at the same time this Sellsword company was strong and well known, even in Westeros. Their name alone would have scared a great number of the lesser lords.
"One more thing. Your squire..." Mero said.
"What about my squire?"
"The boy is a Lannister, isn't he? I have heard the rumor that you are all cozy with the Kingslayer, so I can only assume that this golden haired whelp is his son."
"Get to the point, Mero, I don't have time to waste on the likes of you," Oberyn replied in annoyance.
Mero grinned widely, showing his dirty teeth in the process, before he told Oberyn with obvious satisfaction, "Better keep a good eye on the boy. Word has it that he is very apt at making enemies out of the wrong people."
"What are you talking about?" Oberyn demanded to know, but Mero did not answer. The commander of the Second Sons had already left and only his barking laughter could be heard, before it got lost in the noise of the tavern.
Now Oberyn was clearly annoyed. This meeting had been an utter waste of time and now he had to worry about his squire. One thing was for sure, Mero would not have mentioned this, unless there was really a reason to worry for Arthur's safety. But why? The boy had done nothing here in the east, that would earn him the enmity of anyone with power. He would have to be careful and make some subtle inquiries about this... but first he would have to get Arthur back to the manse of the nobleman who hosted them here in Volantis... unfortunately the boy was already too drunk to walk on his own and Oberyn was in no mood to haul his drunken ass home on his own...