In a fluid series of motions, Barristan withdrew his spear and thrust it at his opponent's head.
Against a human opponent, the spear would have impaled their head, piercing skin and bone to destroy the brain within.
Drogon knocked the spear to the side with one arm. The blow was too much for the spear's shaft, snapping the wood in two.
Barristan pulled back the remaining half of the spear. "You have done well, Drogon."
The black dragon flexed her two arms, her movements slightly awkward. "Not enough," she growled. "My sisters were already this good days ago. I need to improve even faster."
Barristan would have liked to continue sparring with Drogon. However, his body was almost at its limits. He therefore swapped out for a pair of Unsullied, who began jabbing at Drogon with their own spears.
This training was something the dragons had been doing for the past three days. It was a good way for them to learn how to use arms and also to control their strength more precisely. Drogon was more interested than either of her sisters, spending more than two hours a day in the training yard.
As he disposed of the broken spear in a trough filled with broken spears, Barristan looked at his wrinkled hands.
Men still look up to me… but for how much longer?
Barristan sat on a bench to watch the training. But if he'd still been a young man, he could have remained as Drogon's partner for at least another half-hour.
Only reputation, skill and good armour have given me a place at Her Grace's side. But as time passes, my skill will decline. As for my armour…
Barristan watched the Unsullied strike Drogon's body, leaving tiny scratches on the dragon's bare skin—during training, Drogon wore only a band over her bosom and short breeches. Then the dragon counterattacked, snapping both of their spears.
I must remove my armour to bathe and to sleep—at least if I hope to sleep comfortably. The dragons' skin is as durable as steel, and Royal Sorceress Wilmarina expects it to harden further as they age… and, of course, they need never remove their skin. I also can't go about life with a sword constantly in hand, while they need no sword to be lethal.
The Unsullied bowed and congratulated Drogon, who was still raring for more. This caused the two Unsullied to leave and others to pick up bows and arrows—only weapons with a long reach were used in the dragons' training, since short-ranged weapons would risk the killing and maiming of whoever sparred against them.
But the issue is greater than that. Their strength, mobility and magical capabilities are enough to defeat armies. I cannot guard my queen in the bedroom or in the bath, but they may.
Drogon was now the target of a dozen archers, all shooting as rapidly as possible. The dragon dodged half the arrows, knocked a few out of the air, and was scratched by the remainder.
Already more useful in combat than I am, and they still have abundant room to improve.
At this point… what more use does Her Grace have for me? I have some further use when she returns to Westeros, as my reputation will bolster hers…
…but I am not sure when she plans to return.
Barristan's gaze drifted around the training yard. He soon noticed a young man, one with the dark skin typical for Basilisk Islanders, sneaking glances at the dragon.
I still recall the days when I had similar desires… still, I should remind him of the need to be dignified.
Barristan stood up and walked over. "Tumco, would you kindly show me your sword technique?"
Tumco whirled around and did his best to look innocent. "I—y-yes, Ser Barristan! Of course!"
For the next few minutes, Barristan watched Tumco strike a wooden target using an also-wooden training sword.
"Your movements are still a little imprecise!" Barristan said. "Focus less on striking as hard as you can, and more on striking the exact place you aim for!"
"Yes, ser!"
Tumco was one of several youths whom Barristan had taken on as squires. They came from various backgrounds, ranging from former slaves to Meereenese nobility. All proved eager to learn the ways of Westerosi knighthood. And recently, he'd knighted three of them including Tumco… though they would need more training before they could call themselves proper knights.
Perhaps they will still prove useful. Daenerys may not always have three dragons around her, as she must sometimes send them away to war. Even if she keeps one or two with her, they still have times they must sleep. Having a Queensguard of loyal knights around her would ensure she remains well-protected.
…But even then, I fear I will have no place there…
When the swordplay training was done, Barristan congratulated Tumco on the progress he'd made, then bade him do further training with the spear against Drogon.
Then Barristan left the training yard and returned to the Great Pyramid of Meereen.
Previously, I would now be removing my armour to wipe the sweat off my body, Barristan thought as he entered the pyramid. But after Lady Amelia gave my armour an enchantment last week, I have always remained pleasantly cool within it, no matter how much I exert myself.
The climb to the apex was harder than it had ever been, every step making his muscles burn hotter still. Once again, a younger Barristan would have found the climb easy.
He found the queen sitting on the terrace, surrounded by lush vegetation. She was spending more and more of her time relaxing like this, thanks to the monsters' innovations reducing her workload. Nearby, Rhaegal was examining the butterflies fluttering around a bush. There were also several children playing in the garden—children of Meereen's noble houses, originally taken as hostages, though Daenerys had developed a soft spot for them.
"Ser Barristan?" Daenerys said, sitting up. "You've returned earlier than expected."
"The others are doing an excellent job of training Drogon," Barristan said. "And… there is something I would tell you, but in private."
"Certainly."
Daenerys stood up and followed Barristan into the royal apartments. Here, Barristan cleared his throat.
"Truth be told… I am no longer needed there, at the training. I have nothing unique to contribute, nothing that younger soldiers cannot do. And…" he swallowed. "I may… no longer be needed at your side, either."
"You needn't disparage yourself like that," Daenerys said. "You are still the most skilled sword in my service, ser, and among the most wise men I have ever met."
"Skill, aye, but how much longer will that be relevant, as my body ages? And in time, my mind will also age. Lastly… my apologies, but you overestimate my wisdom. I allowed Skahaz to manipulate me into arresting an innocent man. Had it not been for supernatural aid, I may have caused Meereen to collapse before you returned."
Barristan would remember that shame until his dying day. He'd assumed Hizdahr must be the culprit based on reasons that seemed logical at the time, but in hindsight had been influenced by his own prejudices. Hizdahr had had no reason to assassinate Daenerys after murdering her.
But perhaps it was fitting for me. As a knight, I spent most of my life praying to the Warrior above any other aspect of the Seven. Yet I should have spent more time praying to the Father, or perhaps the Crone instead. Then I might have been blessed with true wisdom.
Returning to the present, Daenerys looked stunned. She wouldn't have thought of such issues before, and why would she? She was still a girl of sixteen. If the gods were good, it would be decades before she began to feel the ravages of age.
Though age no longer seems an inevitable thing, Barristan thought. Wilmarina Noscrim is closer to my age than to my queen's age, yet only by behaviour can that be discerned.
"Ser, you were far from the only one to suspect Hizdahr," Daenerys said. "That mistake is not solely yours. And in the end, you helped rid me of Skahaz."
"With the aid of Jorah Mormont, however. Even in that, I was not alone."
A shadow passed over Daenerys' face. Even after half a month of nothing but loyal service from him, the man continued to be a sore point for her.
Barristan recalled that night in which Wilmarina had revealed Skahaz' treachery. Afterwards, Daenerys had said they would deal with it tomorrow. But Barristan had spent the night unable to sleep, constantly tormented by thoughts of his foolishness.
The next morning, Daenerys had summoned both him and Jorah—she might dislike the latter, but she still trusted him to kill for her, and to do it secretly. She told them to kill Skahaz mo Kandaq in a way that would seem accidental.
Barristan was a knight, not an assassin, but he'd loyally followed his queen's plan. First, he'd sent one of his most-loyal squires to Skahaz to arrange a meeting in a poorer district of the city. Then he and Jorah had dressed in ordinary clothes and gone to the meeting point.
Barristan met Skahaz and claimed to have continued doubts about Hizdahr. Skahaz had begun talking about how Hizdahr would certainly try to assassinate the queen again, right up until Jorah's cudgel hit him in the back of the head. After that, they'd carried the body to a nearby set of stairs and tossed it down, inflicting more injuries to disguise the one that had actually been fatal.
Killing a man not ready to defend himself was not the knightly way. Still, Barristan hadn't lost any sleep over it. Not when Skahaz had tried to poison his queen purely to sow conflict that he might benefit from.
"As your Queensguard, I swore to serve you loyally," Barristan said. "That means I must also be honest about my limitations. And, I fear, I may no longer be capable or necessary for protecting you."
"Barristan!"
The two humans turned to see Rhaegal now in the apartments with them. The green dragon had a look of indignation.
"Heard what you were saying, from outside. And you're wrong. I think Mother wouldn't have gotten this far without you. You're not useless."
Barristan smiled. "Thank you for your kindness, Rhaegal. But I am no longer the man who helped your mother this far."
"Ser, you are being a little absurd," Daenerys said. "It has been mere weeks since you defeated a younger and stronger man in combat."
"That was only possible due to my armour—"
"And then you took charge of the council that led Meereen in my absence! Despite there being many men—Skahaz for one—who would have liked to hold power themselves." Daenerys reached up and placed her hands on Barristan's cheeks. "Ser Barristan of House Selmy. You are still more useful than you think you are."
"…I am heartened that you think of me that way, Your Grace."
After a few moments, Daenerys took her hands away. "I am not ignorant as to your age, of course. Here is a suggestion: I will move the royal court from the audience hall down to ground level, and I would ask you to move into quarters near ground level as well. You may still guard me during court sessions, while outside those times, I will have you focus on training my troops and leading them in combat. You will not need to climb nearly so many stairs, with these arrangements."
Barristan bowed. "I am grateful for your consideration."
"Wait, there's another thing—another possibility," Rhaegal said. "Why don't you become an incubus, Barristan?"
That caused Barristan and Daenerys to go still. The latter said, "Rhaegal… that sort of transformation has consequences, you've been told this."
"Yes, but he's a Queensguard, right?" Rhaegal said. "He promised not to have any children. So it doesn't matter if he can't have sons anymore."
As soon as Daenerys had returned to Meereen, she'd revealed to Barristan some of the secrets of monsterkind. And after the dinner four days ago, when Daenerys and the dragons had learned more from Wilmarina, Barristan had also been entrusted with these secrets.
"Rhaegal, I appreciate the offer," Barristan said. "But I must have some time to consider the offer. I am not sure the Seven would look kindly on me for… becoming something different from human."
Rhaegal snorted in an unladylike manner. "What's the point in staying human? You heard already, being pumped with mana can make you young again, much stronger than before, and keep you young for hundreds of years!"
According to Wilmarina—and Barristan had no reason to distrust her—she could potentially live for three or four centuries. The three dragons would have a similar lifespan. And in Wilmarina's world, there were even some beings with true immortality, remaining just as hale and hearty as the millennia passed… it made Barristan question his faith sometimes.
"Don't try to pressure him into it, Rhaegal," Daenerys said firmly. "Ser Barristan will still be healthy for the time being. If he wishes to make that change, he should be allowed to make that decision himself."
"But—"
"That is final."
Rhaegal walked out of the apartments in a huff.
"I thought it was challenging, raising dragons," Daenerys said in a very low whisper. "Now, I find raising daughters to be no less challenging."
"I have never raised children of any sort, Your Grace," Barristan said, amused. "Though perhaps I can still help you raise yours."
They went out to the terrace again and sat down together. At Daenerys' request, Barristan shared stories about Westeros, about the rule of the Targaryens, and about Rhaegar Targaryen in particular.
At a few points, Barristan noticed Daenerys glancing at Rhaegal. He pretended he'd seen nothing, but he knew his queen's thoughts.
Her Grace has known about monsters for weeks… but only in the past few days was she told of the ease with which humans can be transformed into them.
According to Wilmarina, human men infused with monster mana became incubi, who were strengthened physically and magically but retained a human form. Human women became monsters, usually of the same race of the monster who transformed them.
Who wouldn't desire a longer lifespan, greater strength, magic and inhuman beauty? Even in the case of women, a few bodily changes is a small price to pay for such boons.
…But my queen cannot take that step. Any man she… lays with in future would become an incubus. Any child she bears would be another monster. The societal disruption would be immense and difficult to predict.
Wilmarina had mentioned some of the issues facing societies of monsters and incubi. Polygyny and relationships between only monsters were common—Wilmarina's own marriage being an example of the former. Because the only source of new men was immigration, many made themselves into attractive destinations for tourism. Even then, there were occasionally outbreaks of violence on the streets, as romance-deprived monsters vented their frustrations. Some monsters, and rarely entire societies of monsters, chose to steal human men from elsewhere.
They may not worry about famine or plague or war, but they still have troubles of their own. It seems no society is completely peaceful.
And that led Barristan to wonder just where the monsters came from. It had to be a continent far across the sea, at the very least. Perhaps the mythical continent of Ulthos, which supposedly lay to the southeast of Essos.
Eventually, a servant came out to the terrace. "Mhysa?" He said. "The Green Grace requests an audience with you."
Daenerys stood up. "Then I will be with her shortly."
"Is this the human that many worship?" Rhaegal asked.
"No, Rhaegal," Barristan said. He considered his words. "She is a high priestess… simply put, she is leader of those who guide humans in their worship of the gods."
"It's so complicated…" Rhaegal grumbled. "Why can't they just worship by themselves? Why do they have to involve many other humans as well?"
Barristan chuckled. "I was never one to study religion, and I know little of foreign religions. I'm afraid I cannot give you a clearer answer."
"Then come as well, Rhaegal, and perhaps you will understand better," Daenerys said.
Following the servant, they descended several flights of stairs to a guest room. Here, Daenerys sat at a table opposite the woman already seated there. Barristan and Rhaegal stood behind her.
Galazza Galare was a Ghiscari woman in her eighties, even older than Barristan. Despite her age, she carried herself with great dignity. She was dressed in a tokar of two different shades of green, fitting for her position, and wore a green veil over the lower part of her face.
"What brings you here again, Green Grace?" Daenerys asked. Gone was the girl relaxing in a garden, with only a queen remaining in her place.
"I have come to inform you of certain events, Your Radiance, and also to ask certain questions," Galazza replied in a smooth voice. "For the first, many of the Graces are discussing these… monsters."
"In what manner?"
Barristan stiffened. The monsters had brought immeasurable improvements to Meereen. Still, there was always the possibility of them facing intolerance born from religious fanaticism.
"In several manners, all of them positive," Galazza replied. "Some claim they are incarnations of goddesses we worship. Some have placed requests for their magic, hoping to become even a fraction as beautiful as them. And a small number," her tone became rueful, "claim that they are true goddesses, and all others are undeserving of worship, including even the pantheon of Ghis. That last comes mainly from the less-trained Graces…"
"Do you fear there may be a… schism, within your temple?" Daenerys asked.
"I hope not, and will be working to prevent such a thing," Galazza said. "But I thought you ought to be informed, as many of the Graces are members of the ruling families."
"Hmm… thank you for that. Then I have a question. Of your order, the Blue Graces have the duty of healing the sick. Will there be any issue between them and Wilmarina Noscrim?"
Galazza shook her head. "The arts of the Blue Graces are akin to crude fumbling when compared with her miraculous healing. But she is still one… person, even with her prodigious stamina. The Blue Graces can deal with minor injuries and illnesses, leaving only the most serious of afflictions to her."
Though that made Barristan wonder what would happen once Wilmarina and her daughters left. Would the people of Meereen become too accustomed to magical healing, and feel dissatisfied by the Blue Graces' skills hereafter?
When those four leave, the only monsters in Meereen will be Drogon, Rhaegal and Viserion. I have difficulty picturing them learning how to heal, yet Wilmarina says that all magics can theoretically be learned by any monster.
On the other hand, the dragons must also leave Meereen, eventually, when Her Grace does…
"Might I now ask my questions, Your Radiance?"
"You may."
Galazza straightened in her seat. "I have seen that you maintain a cordial relationship with noble Hizdahr, despite… complications."
Barristan did his best to keep a neutral expression instead of looking guilty.
"Forgive me if this is intrusive, but… is a child something Meereen might hope for?"
"Currently, there are no signs," Daenerys said. "Forgive me for disappointing the people of Meereen."
Barristan had complicated feelings about that. His queen had agreed to marry Hizdahr as a desperate measure to save Meereen from external and internal threats. But if she bore a child from him, that child would become a chain tying her down, making it more difficult to set Hizdahr aside and depart for Westeros.
With the monsters' assistance, Meereen no longer needs this marriage. I'm sure my queen has realised that.
"I see," Galazza said. "Such things can take time, I understand. But that brings another question to mind. You came to Meereen intending that it be merely one of your conquests, with your true goal lying to the west."
Daenerys said nothing for a few moments. She simply met Galazza's eyes, purple looking into green.
"…I still have such a goal in mind. But many issues remain before I can even attempt it again. Thus, I will be staying here for the time being, with Hizdahr as my king."
Galazza nodded. "Thank you, Your Radiance. That was all I wished to know. Unless you desire anything further me, I shall now return to the Temple of the Graces."
The old woman stood and left the guest room.
"Hmm… still don't see what's so important about her," Rhaegal said.
"Please be patient, you'll understand in time," Barristan said.
Daenerys didn't say anything. She simply stared at the door through which Galazza had departed.
"Your Grace?"
"…Let us return to the apex," Daenerys said absentmindedly.
They climbed back up. This again caused Barristan to feel pains throughout his body.
When at the terrace garden again, Daenerys called out, "Children! Would any of you like to experience flying through the air?"
The children were surprised. They looked fearfully at Rhaegal—many of the Meereenese still had an understandable fear of dragons.
Eventually, one boy by the name of Grazhar stepped forward. "I… I would like to try it, Your Radiance."
Daenerys bade Rhaegal pick the boy up and go on a flight. If past experiences were any indication, this would leave Grazhar begging for a second flight, and others becoming curious enough to try as well.
But all this proved to be just a distraction. Daenerys led Barristan back into the apartments for another private conversation.
"My Queensguard. What do you think of Galazza Galare?"
Barristan was caught off guard. "I think… that she is a wise and religious woman, who desires peace and prosperity for her people."
That made Daenerys laugh, catching Barristan off guard again.
"I thought so as well… even after returning to Meereen. But then, just a few days ago, I received a certain message from our royal sorceress. Do you know what she said?"
Daenerys' wording reminded Barristan of a certain other message that the succubus had given him, another message with information not to be revealed in public.
"A-Are you suggesting—!?"
Daenerys recited a few sentences. It was enough to make Barristan slump against a wall. His legs would no longer support his body, and not from fatigue.
"In hindsight, I should have realised it sooner," Daenerys said, her face twisted in fury. "She has both the motivation and the power for such a role. But I underestimated her… we all did." She laughed darkly again. "It seems she proved you wrong and me correct: age is no barrier to success."
Barristan breathed in and out slowly. "Your Grace… What do you plan to… do about her?"
"I considered having Tyrion Lannister come up with the plan," Daenerys said. "He is experienced at such cloak-and-dagger dealings… however, in this matter, he would be facing an opponent with similar experience, and far more entrenched in Meereen. No… for a matter so delicate, there is only one person I can rely on. Only one person guaranteed to succeed."
"…I was under the impression you did not want to be more indebted to her."
"I do not. But in this matter… I have no choice."
Daenerys wrote one and only word on a small square of paper: "Yes". She folded it up and ordered Barristan to have one of his squires deliver it to the monsters' manse.
Once Barristan had finished arranging this, he returned to see the queen slumped on her bed.
"In a matter like this, I can only trust you, Ser Barristan, and a few others…" Daenerys murmured. "I dare not even trust my own daughters, for fear they might spill the secret by accident."
"I am honoured to receive your trust."
"I cannot trust Hizdahr, and never will. A husband and wife ought to trust each other… but we cannot. That is something I envy Wilmarina for… not for all of the other aspects she surpasses me in, but for having a husband she can be fully open to." She shook her head. "Even while he has other wives at the same time…"
Barristan was silent. He was a man of various skills, but giving advice on relationship troubles was not one of them.
Most of the royal marriages I've seen were unhappy… Aerys and Rhaella… Robert and Cersei… even Rhaegar and Elia, to an extent…
"I don't want to continue relying on her," Daenerys continued. "I want to simply leave Meereen behind, to fly to Westeros with my daughters and reclaim the Iron Throne. And yet…"
Daenerys lifted up one hand, seemingly looking along it to the high ceiling of the room.
"When I was still in the Dothraki Sea… Wilmarina challenged my very thinking, my worldview," Daenerys said. "I told her that my family's throne had been stolen by usurpers, who rode over the bodies of children to claim their prize. I told her that the king who now sat the throne was a useless fat drunk, and I would be a far better ruler than he." She closed her eyes, no doubt remembering her own failings as a ruler. "Do you know what she told me?"
Barristan remained silent.
"'Is it a throne you want, Daenerys? Or a home?' …Can you imagine how I felt, hearing those words?"
"I fear I do not. I was raised in a pleasant home, in House Selmy's keep of Harvest Hall."
"I had a pleasant home for only the first few years," Daenerys said sadly. "Then our guardian, Ser Willem, died, and the servants stole everything. Viserys and I had to live without ever knowing safety. Viserys…" She gripped the edge of a table. "He was a madman by the end, but even so, I cannot blame him, not when he had to sell the last memento of our mother, just to put food on the table for a little longer."
"Your Grace, I…" Barristan began. "I believe I understand your point. You have now found a home, here in Meereen, and no longer need one in Westeros. But even so… Westeros does suffer under the rule of a queen far less compassionate. Tyrion claims so, and while I do not fully trust him, I trust him in this. Cersei is a queen who had her husband killed—"
"A husband who was never faithful to her, who beat her, and was an incompetent ruler," Daenerys pointed out. "Even from what you have told me. I find I cannot blame her for that."
"Perhaps, but there is far more than that," Barristan persisted. "Cersei Lannister cares nothing for the good of the smallfolk. She would never listen to their hurts, then do her best to resolve them."
Daenerys lowered her hand and looked directly at Barristan.
"I am aware of all of that… yet my work here is yet unfinished. It may be mostly finished in Meereen, but the rest of Slaver's Bay, the rest of Essos, there's still much to do there. Even if acting on compassion, I cannot leave for Westeros unless I've finished here."
Barristan pressed a fist against his heart. "I have accompanied you thus far, Your Grace. I will continue accompanying you, no matter how long it takes to finish in Essos."
"Thank you, Ser Barristan."
