Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age or A Song of Ice and Fire
The Phoenix and the Griffin
Chapter 23: The Marchers campaigns
The city council was in a panic, so much so that they couldn't even process the death of the undying (Maric could laugh at such a thing). Just when Fausten and his charges emerged from the House of the Undying, the guards, ready to arrest them, suddenly rushed to the walls. People throughout the city screamed 'the Dothraki are coming'. But when the group came closer to the gates of the city they heard whispers of two hordes, two clouds on the sands merging into one.
"General," Asher called to Fausten.
He was taken aback by Maric's appearance, but quickly focused on why he sought Fausten out. Asher directed him to the box with his equipment inside. Fausten quickly dressed, putting on his mail, his armour pieces, throwing his cloak over his shoulders as he picked up his sword and long bow.
"Why would the Dothraki come here?" Viserys asked.
"True, the Dothraki have not sold slaves here, the Qartheen hate the smell of the Khalasars. But war can have a troubling effect on people's customs, the Dothraki it seems are changing," Fausten said.
"Why though?" Daenerys asked.
"Because I declared war on them as a race," Fausten said.
His nonchalant and almost eager tone reminded Daenerys of what she had seen in the House of the Undying. It reminded her too of her oath to Fausten's grandson, to not allow her general to eradicate the Dothraki people. For that was Fausten's intention, defeating the undefeatable Khal, challenging them time and time again was all for the intention of provoking all out war. The two allying Khalasars was his design, his plan to boost the reputation of his company and to kill more Dothraki.
"The three walls of stone reach up to thirty, forty and fifty feet in height respectively, surely the Dothraki have no intention of breaching the walls," Viserys said.
"Of course not, they have no siege weapons and no towers, nothing that would enable them to get over the wall. Even the annoyance of having them camp outside the gate would be of little consequence, Qarth primarily imports and exports by sea. But still the Purebloods, the Brotherhood, the Spicers and the Thirteen will want to be rid of them, and the easiest way to be rid of even vengeful enemies is the way you'd dispose of any enemy without conflict," Fausten explained.
"A bribe," Viserys said.
"Dothraki don't siege, they intimidate, and with the House of the Undying…dead," Fausten chuckled. "There's one group in Qarth that will not call for our heads because of that, the Thirteen."
"An unlucky number," Maric commented.
"I'm sorry, who is this?" Asher asked.
"King Maric, rumours of his demise were greatly exaggerated it seems," Fausten said.
"Get this man food and water, he'll be in need of water to clean as well," Daenerys said to Asher, speaking to him like a leader would her troops, or a queen her subject.
"I'm not a king in these lands, get me bread and water, I can eat after you've saved yourselves from this crisis. I can't imagine why but the House of the Undying was always valued here, so you're going to either need to win this city over or ride like hell out of here," Maric explained.
"I already have that in hand," Fausten said.
"What do you mean?" Daenerys asked.
"When you're at siege, it is always smart to have an ally inside," Fausten said.
"You didn't just bring us here for Daenerys did you?" Viserys asked.
Fausten simply smirked and the group followed him to the castle walls.
"No one but the House of the Undying knows who you two are, my contacts here are merchant princes, they've hired us and so we are to remain in the city whilst in their service," Fausten explained.
"James my friend," he turned to the city guards.
They were with a thin and bald man wearing silk robes, his fingers were long and delicate and his almost beak shaped nose was decorated with jewel piercings. He walked past the guards and hugged Fausten.
"James Marcher, consider this trouble with the Dothraki your test, further business will be carried out…well based on whether you survive."
"Xaro, as always you are a testament to the goodwill of Qarth," Fausten said.
Xaro Xhaon Daxos, a merchant of Qarth and one of the Thirteen. He was an owner of numerous trade ships and a man who could afford the services of James Marcher's mercenaries. To save their stores and treasures the people of Qarth weren't above using mercenaries to send messages to the Dothraki, or to rival cities. Daenerys and Viserys changed into their own armour, chainmail shirts for both of them and leather padding. Testing her bow, Daenerys took a deep breath before she climbed up to the city walls. There she saw the two hordes, the riders brandishing their swords and screaming. It would have been a terrifying sight to her moments ago, but much had happened to her. She knew that there were scarier things than a Dothraki horde.
Fausten did have one cost for the city of Qarth to cover. The greatest weapons during a siege were the walls of the castle, and the arrows that the protectors could rain down on the attackers. Some sieges didn't even require arrows or rocks, just the walls. Fausten had been in sieges, on both the attacking and defending sides and sometimes sieges ended without the two sides exchanging swords or arrows. He had been part of armies that gave up after a few days, or had spent nearly a year outside the walls until the castle surrendered. Fausten had even been inside the castles under siege, suffering from dehydration or malnutrition, going half mad from the lack of food and watching men give in to some of their darker impulses. Some sieges ended with his side surrendering and him getting no pay at all. He knew how a siege involving the Dothraki would end, and he was sure the Dothraki themselves knew. They were there to deliver a message, a declaration of war. Fausten considered his own declaration to the Dothraki.
"KNOCK!" he yelled, pulling on the chord of his own bow.
"LOOSE!"
Arrows rained down on the Dothraki, and soon the desert outside of the city was decorated by the buzzards pecking at dead horses and men. It wasn't a true battle, but it was enough to earn something of a pass. A quarter of the treasure that Qarth would have given the Dothraki was given to Fausten's company. It would be enough, enough for a reputation. In time merchants that traded via caravans called on James Marcher for escort. Daenerys and Viserys walked as part of these escorts, they felt the burn of the sun, felt blisters in their feet from the walking but faced no battle.
Still they trained and practiced with the other troops, slept in their trenches and tents. Daenerys laughed with a few of her 'allies', leant about their customs. Durad taught her a few words of the Qunari language. But it was from a former Dothraki slave that she leaned the language of the Dothraki themselves, and their customs. She felt a hatred from the man as he described to her how the Dothraki dragged his mother and sisters out of their huts and proceeded to rape them. How for years he was treated as a servant, and expected to be grateful for such a thing.
Another escort duty led them to a clash with bandits, not Dothraki but sell swords falling on desperate enough times to raid people. Daenerys stabbed her spear through a man's gut and watched with horror as he died. But when she saw Viserys brought down by another fighter, she didn't hesitate to drive the spear through the man's mouth. They joined the shield wall and hit the mercenaries with their allies. After a victory, they saw to the dead, Daenerys heard the prayers of many faiths. Once the dead were seen to, they celebrated a hard won pay. Viserys excelled in this celebration, making somewhat of a fool of himself.
"I slew just as many men as all of you, I too carry a scar," he slurred, showing the cut on his forehead, the chip on his ear.
The next morning Daenerys arrived at training first.
"Arrows are a smart man's weapon, one day warfare will be all about projectiles," Durad predicted and several of the men watching laughed. "Scoff all you want, but there was a time when the long bow was the pinnacle of weaponry, bows have improved since then," he brandished a bow with curved ends.
He gave it to Daenerys and she put her fingers through the grip. A knuckle duster had been placed on the surface of the grip, enabling the bow to double as a formidable blunt weapon. It was lighter than the other bows Daenerys and Viserys had been trained with.
"Loose an arrow and fire, right at the target, NOW!" Durad yelled.
As he spoke, a melon was hurled past Daenerys's head, courtesy of another Kossith man whom was considerably taller than Durad. Daenerys knocked back a bow and fired, missing her shot by a significant distance.
"AGAIN!" Durad roared, a cabbage flying past Daenerys's head.
And again Daenerys missed, the Vashoth stepped up to Daenerys, adjusting the position of her feet and bopping her hips slightly.
"Hips, footing and hands, you've already got the eyes for it. You've got good eyes Danielle, fantastic eyes," Durad said.
"Oh, thank you," Daenerys blushed slightly.
"Try again, and with your second shot, try it on the other side of the grip and you'll save a second on the reload," Durad said.
She didn't hit the targets this time, but they were mistakes that helped her to learn.
"Duncan the Tall, Aegon the Dragon Knight, Barristan the Bold, Arthur Dayne, all legends to you, but none remember the mistakes they made, the losses, the times when they were just ordinary men whom picked up a sword to fight," Fausten explained as he practiced with Viserys.
Viserys was in a sweat, and though Fausten too was tired, he was still able to maintain his poise and confidence. He struck Viserys with the flat of his sword and continued to block his attacks. There was an improvement in Viserys's technique, Daenerys saw it when they took contracts and fought and she saw it in the time it would take Fausten to knock Viserys down. Of course, he would never be able to match Fausten as a swordsman. Daenerys had faith that in time Viserys would be competent enough, but he'd still be nowhere the kind of skill that his teacher was capable of showing.
"People call you the Phoenix, a spear fighter capable of beating the Red Viper," Viserys said.
"They don't remember when I was a teenager, arrogant, fool hardy, talent alone is meaningless, I got beat down by thugs and there were battles I only survived because of the allies around me. As for a fight with me and Oberyn, he has the age advantage, but he's undisciplined at times, he can be showy in duels. But his spear itself is dangerous, he coats it in a poison, getting hit with a blade is bad children, you never know when they add a vicious poison to it," Fausten explained.
More chains and more lifting came afterwards, and more running across the desert, more practicing the shield wall and getting yelled at by Kas'Im. Each day for Daenerys was one dedicated to self improvement, as well as to the study of the history of Westeros and Essos. She studied cultures, crops, architecture and strategy, not just on the battlefield but with governing cities and traversing politics. Viserys took to these studies, to the game, to the mistakes he shouldn't make in the battle of wits and deceit.
"All men have honour, it can't be given or taken away, and one doesn't have to have a noble title to have honour. There are thieves with greater honour than lords, the South and North or Westeros both value different forms of honour, or mock the others sense of honour. In the crownlands, in King's landing the value of the game is at its greatest but each family and each division will be playing the game in one form or another. This game extends to Essos, extends to the slave cities, to Yi Ti and even in Thedas, Orlais, the Free Marches and Ferelden. In Kirkwall, it was the Chantry that had the power, Viscount Perrin Threnhold attempted to change that. He killed the Knight Commander at the time, cut off the city port, but he was deposed by the rallied templars, excommunicated by the revered mother and then executed for his crimes," Fausten explained.
"Was he wrong?" Daenerys asked him.
"Difficult to say, wrong to have killed so many people of course, but if he had won then he would have been able to write whatever he wanted, that he was in the right and that he was freeing his city from Chantry influence," Fausten stated.
"What about the usurper's rebellion?" Viserys asked.
"Your father killed Brandon and Rickard Stark, as well as a few other heirs from the North and the Riverlands. Rhaegar seemed to have kidnapped Lyanna Stark, and then Aerys called for Robert and Eddard's heads. Things could have been different, he could have demanded that Rhaegar return Lyanna, or he could have had Lyanna and Rhaegar discuss the problem Lyanna had with Robert, they could have discussed possible alternative matches for him. Then again there was Elia, Rhaegar dishonoured her, or maybe Elia and Rhaegar had an understanding, I don't know. The truth is I don't truly know what my opinion on the Rebellion is."
"We were the rulers of the realm," Viserys said.
"And did that excuse everything you did?" Fausten asked.
"When you're the victor you can write history, you said it yourself in regards to Threnhold. If father had won Robert would have been remembered as a lustful and greedy traitor, Brandon Stark would have been remembered as a tactless, moronic brute and his father stupid for choosing a trial by combat. When you have power, you decide what is right," Viserys explained.
"That's the wrong attitude, and wrong completely too Viserys," Fausten said.
"The attitude wasn't wrong when you openly admitted to your grandson that you intended to commit genocide on the Dothraki," Viserys retorted.
"Yes I did intend to commit genocide, but what is right cannot be measured by strength alone, nor can it simply be decided by those whom write history. In the dance of dragons both sides were wrong, in Robert's rebellion both sides were wrong, and in the war to come we will both be wrong. The world isn't as simple as good and evil, at least when it comes to humans. My grandson fights the real evil in this world," Fausten explained.
"The Dark spawn," Daenerys whispered.
"Wretched creatures, for as long as the dark spawn live humanity will never be safe. And for as long as greed lies in the heart of humanity, chaos and suffering will continue to wreck the world. The problems of the past, no the present will repeat again and again, war, corruption at court, rebellion, the suffering of the people under the boots of men whom claim nobility simply because of birth, women marrying into families for their worth of gold or land, given as little regard as a pig or horse. More than revenge I hope for change throughout the realm, for the feudal world to end and a new one to begin," Fausten explained.
The utter passion in his voice inspired Daenerys, inspired her to believe that the world needed change. Over night she dreamt of such a world, the world imagined by those whom founded the Meadow, a world where all creeds and races could exist as one people. She dreamt of the Iron throne as her brother described to her, the great cities of King's Landing, Old town, Lannisport, Gulltown and White Harbour. Even though she had never seen them before, she dreamt of their streets and the great wondrous buildings that had been built over the long reign of the Targaryens.
But her dreams faded when the cold reality of the battlefield took over. Her desire to survive took over; her desire to kill her enemy took over. Weeks passed and the Phoenix Wing took part in a defensive battle for the city of Yunkai, the Yellow city. Their rivals in the battle were the Second Sons, Daenerys heard Viserys's, or Vincent's frightened breathing beside her. She had to remind herself that she was Danielle, a simple girl whom squired for James Marcher. Her training with the bow had been her greatest ally in the siege. Whilst Viserys carried rocks and oil, Daenerys fired from the ramparts of the yellow city. Her arrows were some of many let loose into the army of Second sons.
When they finally managed to get ladders and a siege tower onto the city walls, it became a flurry of swords and bodies for Daenerys. She felt a sword scratch her side, and a spear nick her arm, but still she fought and used all that she had practiced. The flurry became clear to her and she heard every cry, felt every death and every moment her spear pierced flesh. Again their commander distinguished himself, standing above them all on the battlefield. Fausten cleaved through multiple enemies, but there were others whom stood out. Durad was an incredible archer, but he joined in the fighting too, fast for his size and slicing throats with his daggers. Aeron, he was another great swordsman, darting between his targets and hitting them with swings from his sword. There were great warriors, whom Viserys bragged to Daenerys would become his kings guard when he drank in their tent.
Devan Fitzroy was the most recent recruit, a young fighter whom brought with him some loyal soldiers. He wore his finely crafted plate armour proudly and carried into battle a great sword of red steel. In his battles he cut down many foes and Daenerys found him a courteous young man, if a little over eager to fight in battle.
An older man excelled himself, Jenken of the Spear he declared himself on the field. He fought incredibly well for a man with one eye, cutting through waves of his enemies, wearing a helmet with bulls horns on it. His calmer counterpart on the field came to be known as Norman of the Axe. Norman was burly and strong, able to push multiple men back with his shield. He was a virile man whom slept with a few of the camp followers, both man and woman. Three bastards of his also joined the Militia, two sons and a daughter though Daenerys had never been able to have conversations with them.
The youngest of the recruits also drew looks of sadness from Fausten. Daenerys knew why, the sixteen year old had tanned skin and brown hair, the colours matched Daylen Amell's in many ways. He told Daenerys he was the bastard son of a black smith in Rivain, explaining his mixed features. She found him the kindest of the 'seven whom excelled' and she always found time to talk to him. Viserys cared only for his performance on the battlefield, he was fast and deadly with a sword despite his age. Noah was his name, and in time Fausten gifted him with armour and a coat of arms.
An eastern swordsman excelled himself, he turned up at the camp one day and followed the army into battle. Removing his straw hat he revealed a man in his early twenties, dark haired with most of it tied into a knot at the back of his head. Saito wore a white coat over his purple armour, and was deadly with the beautiful curved sword he wielded; an Uchigatana Daenerys believed it had been called.
The kingsguard was supposedly a brotherhood, two of the seven were already brothers. Marcus and Werner Stone were both dressed like knights when they became leaders of the heavy cavalry. When facing the Dothraki horde again, they smashed into Dothraki cavalry, the heavy armour and even mail put onto their horses allowed them to dominate the nomads. Daenerys though didn't like either, Werner was argumentative with others quite often and though Marcus could be more agreeable they were both just as cruel as one another. Fausten often had to put them both in their place when they mistreated camp followers. They were at least honourable enough to know never to betray their commander, and aware of his skill enough to know that even together they could not beat him.
But Viserys's rants were just the drink talking, in truth none of them could truly be considered Kings guard. That was at least what Daenerys felt, these seven and some of the others whom excelled as commanders would make ideal lords or councillors when they were to finally take the fight to Westeros and the Baratheons and Lannisters. Which became another point of conflict between Viserys and Fausten.
"How long will we have to act as servants?" Viserys demanded.
He was sitting on the sand and looking up at Fausten as he spoke. They had finished another sparring session. Viserys's sword had been knocked into the sand and Fausten ran a whet stone over the edge of his own.
"What do you think a king is?" Fausten asked.
"He who rules the realm, who sits the iron throne and dispenses his will across the lands that serve him," Viserys stated and Fausten chuckled.
"Your father and brother had a much more melancholic, philosophical way of putting their answers," Daenerys watched her brother shake his head at the older man's answer.
"So what do you think the king is?" he asked.
"Why are you asking for my opinion, I'm no king, it's you who is to be a king. Thus you should develop your own view on who the king is, a view that must evolve if you are to be different from your father, and from Robert," Fausten explained.
Day by day Daenerys felt that she and her brother were changing. Viserys would never be capable of matching his teacher but he could at least stand alongside his troops on the battlefield. Although sometimes she wondered if they would ever be his troops. He drank with them, and at least pretended to be interested in their stories when they spoke at the campfire. Service to Yunkai continued and over the course of the service, Viserys switched from the camp to the halls of noble houses. And there he watched the interaction between James Marcher and the nobles of the city.
"My men and I can protect trade routes, we can be the highwaymen of the Valyrian road, but we will need horses. The seas too can be a dangerous place, a ship or too wouldn't hurt," James said as he drank with the lords.
Viserys remained silent, he watched and learned, and realised that his past dealings with mercenary captains and nobles were laughable attempts to gain favour. His sense of entitlement had held him back, this he realised, but the Seven Kingdoms belonged to his family. Gaining the allies he needed and keeping them was another matter. James Marcher had proven already to those he spoke to that he was a man to be feared, but also a man to be relied upon. He could deliver on a promise. Merchants, nobles and generals all had one thing in common when making their decisions; it took more than a promise for them to decide. So horses were added to their ranks, and in time the Storm Crows became allies in the defence of Yunkai.
"Five hundred horses, and five hundred men and boys to ride them," James said as he watched the riders go through the gate.
'Vincent' and 'Danielle' stood beside him, seeing the commanders of the Storm Crows and their unique banners. The four crows flying between crossed lightning bolts were the kind of images Daenerys read of in her books. Her cheeks flushed when she saw one of the lieutenants looking at her. He was lithe and smooth skinned and had handsome features, enhanced by the wondrous yellow moustache amongst his thick blue hair. Their arrival signalled the end of Fausten's intentions for Yunkai, at least for now.
"These flowers grow outside the walls of this city, but they pale in comparison to you," Daario would charm Daenerys every time he saw her.
"Don't let him seduce you, don't let him believe he is the one in control," Fausten warned her one night.
"Losing my virginity to a sell sword would be harmful to your plans wouldn't it?" she asked.
"Yes, but you wouldn't be the first noble lady to not be a virgin by the time she's married, personally I never much cared for 'purity' anyway, a man can be just as beautiful as a woman and a woman can be just as ugly as a man," Fausten explained.
"When you married your wife, had she been a virgin?" Daenerys was holding the flower Daario gave her at the time.
Viserys was spending his days with a brothel woman Doreah, an elven girl whom was popular in teaching noble women and men the ways of sex. Fausten produced from his desk two cups and a bottle of wine. The depth of the conversations he would have with Daenerys required a little more drink. He also referred to it as training, wine was a tactic of the game and good players had a high tolerance for it as well as a good drinking pace.
"She had lost her virginity to a boy she had hoped to marry," Fausten said.
"And what happened to this man?" Daenerys asked.
"I killed him!"
His straight forward answer shocked Daenerys to the point she nearly choked a gulp of wine. She recovered and took another sip, her eyes on the old warrior.
"Hardly an ideal way to begin a marriage," she muttered.
"To be fair he turned out to not actually be the man she thought, at the time her father came into money, he'd found a mine that he was able to turn into a successful business although recently the bone pit came under new management. This boy she liked was part of a lesser noble house in Kirkwall, at the time she thought he would be an ideal husband. She slept with him, but when it came closer and closer to marriage he showed more of his true nature," Fausten explained.
"So he was a villain?"
"Not truly a villain, just a man with weaknesses, drink, women, men, he wasn't the worst opponent I ever fought but he was hardly the most difficult opponent either," Fausten said.
"So how did you become involved?" Daenerys asked.
"I had returned to Kirkwall, my intention was to get the materials for Drake Scale armour from the Bone pit, I saw her singing as she weaved a scarf…maker that woman had the worst singing voice," he chuckled as Daenerys blinked in confusion.
"So what attracted you to her, was she a beauty?"
"Oh yes, but all women are beauties, love has to come from something deeper than that. No, our meeting was hardly worthy, she slapped me when we first spoke, then again I was hardly respectful. There was a strength to her, as we discovered more of her old love's true nature and his family's intention with the bone pit, attraction developed between us. In the end I had to kill the boy, she shed tears for him when he died but in time she forgave me, eventually she loved me and gave me my daughter Revka, followed by Damion," Fausten explained.
"Did she die?" Daenerys asked.
"She did, to a wasting illness, she never lived to see Revka bear children," Fausten said.
"There is something I've been curious about, do you know who the father of Revka's children is?"
The question made Fausten laugh and he took another swig of his wine.
"I'd make for a poor father if I didn't know what my children were up to, and the term is fathers," he said.
"She had multiple lovers and never a husband?" Daenerys couldn't hide the amazement in her voice.
"Yes, one whom fathered her first children and another whom fathered Dayk in Westeros," Fausten said.
"And you met them?"
"One at least," Fausten shrugged his shoulders.
"So am I expected to just never lay with another man until I marry?" she asked.
"If your father was still king you'd be marrying Viserys, perhaps that's what Viserys wants, I would want you to marry whom you'd want. But you can do far better than Daario Nahalis," he added.
Daario was the charming man, the man she looked at and imagined what it would be like to kiss him, to feel the goatee on her lip and to lie on his chest after love making. His flirtations made her smile, but she followed Fausten's advice well. She focused on learning the games of war and politics, all of which fell into the game of thrones. The frightening great game that would force her to be ruthless, that would make her carefully think of the consequences of her decisions. Who could be her friend? Should she have friends? Who was waiting to betray her if they weren't rewarded enough? Should a person be rewarded? The more Daenerys thought of these things the more she came to the realisation that she wasn't carrying the fate of a dynasty in her hands, but people's fate. The latest enemy to siege Yunkai was a reminder of that, Crows and Phoenixes were lost to the decisions those ruling the city made.
"Ophelia wanted to be more than a wife to someone," Viserys said as he and Daenerys carried bodies off of the field.
He gently placed a woman onto their cart, Daenerys taking off the girl's armour as he did. They both wore to Fausten's insistence gloves and scarves across their noses, things that would be burned with the bodies.
"Nichol was more a sculpture than a fighter, he wanted to raise the money to turn his skill into a business, he'd tell me about his vision of a whole building filled with pots and statues, historical figures or figures just made to order and people could see them there or buy them. He thought that art deserved to be appreciated by everyone, high born or lowborn," Viserys explained.
With each body they found he told a story, and Daenerys wondered if her brother too had realised what she did, that it was more than just their family legacy at stake. Was what she saw in his eyes tears, the grieving of lost friends? Or was Viserys frustrated over another person not being able to achieve their dream? She saw a little more empathy in his eyes as he drank with people in the nights that followed. It was on the seventh night that Daenerys learned the name of the faction that had invaded Yunkai.
"Dumat's will," Fausten scoffed, pouring another wine cup.
"Was Dumat the name of the First Archdemon?" Viserys asked, taking the cup Fausten offered.
"He was, and the armour these people use is an old variant of what they wear in the Tevinter Imperium, they seem to want to restore those days of glory. We should get along quite well then," Fausten laughed though Viserys glared at him.
"Surely we'll be able to beat them in a prolonged fight?" he asked.
"Unfortunately the rulers and nobles of Yunkai want an end to the fighting, so terms of negotiations will be set dependent on the winner of a duel," Fausten said.
"Two men fighting to determine the fate of a city," Viserys shook his head in disgust.
"One man dying is better than two thousand, although that's never really been the case for some people, we often find ways of cheating or just inventing rules that don't apply to us. When a noble insults another noble, they demand an apology, when a commoner insults a noble, they demand their tongue. When a noble steals from another noble, they demand compensation, when a commoner steals from a nobleman, they demand their hand. When a commoner looks at a nobleman's wife, they are killed, when a nobleman rapes a commoner's wife, nothing happens!"
Hearing of it disgusted Daenerys, it also disgusted her that the price of victory or defeat would be raised by the death of one man. When it became clear that Daario was one of the men, it disgusted Daenerys even further. She watched the man put on his light armour, strapping his dagger and Arakh to his waist.
"Try not to look too frightened my lady, if you appear too sincere then more brutal men than myself will take advantage of you," Daario said, looking to Daenerys from across the street.
She walked towards him, keeping her hand on her sword as she did so. The man adjusted the straps of his gauntlets and then placed his hands on his hips.
"If you could leave the Crows where would you go?" she asked him.
"This is the only life I have ever known, since my mother gave me to the crows," Daario said.
"Your own mother gave you away?"
"Of course, I was a horrid child, as I said my lady don't be too sincere," Daario smirked and Daenerys turned away in embarrassment. "Dying quickly in a mercenary company is better than slowly starving my lady, don't be surprised by the horrid things people do, sometimes something evil is the only choice a person has. But your question, I would serve a worthy queen!"
"You mean a lord or king?" Daenerys asked.
"No, a queen," Daario smiled.
Despite his own warnings, there was a sincerity in his eyes. Without a thought or care, Daenerys placed her hands on the sides of Daario's head and kissed him. It was a slow and clumsy kiss, her first of course, though Daario was quick to match the movement of her mouth. He turned what could have been an embarrassing moment into a genuine and passionate one. Softly holding her chin, he pulled away and smiled at her.
"Watch me win my lady, this victory will be for you," he said.
He walked towards the gate, winking at Daenerys as he did. She felt her cheeks flush and then yelped when a hand slapped onto her shoulder.
"He's not the best of men, but he isn't the worst either," the voice was one she recognised, but when she turned she was astonished by a face that may as well been new for her.
Though it would be some time before Maric would gain back the muscle of his youth, he was looking much better since his time as a captive of the House of the Undying. After a bath his skin and hair became lighter, his nails had been filed to a healthy length and he had cut his hair and beard. His hair was touching his neck, some of it tied into a rough tail and though his beard was still thick it would no longer get in his way.
"Your…"
"Before you apply a title Danielle, keep in mind Daario's advice about sincerity, now would you join me at the wall to see who dies," Maric said, offering Daenerys his arm.
Maric had proven to be sympathetic to Daenerys and Viserys's plight. No doubt because of his childhood in Ferelden. Though he made no agreement to fight in their battles, he had helped with training. He told them nothing on whether he would return to Ferelden, and Daenerys didn't know if Fausten had told the old king any of what had transpired in his country. It was a problem for the future, she focused on the now, on a man she knew would serve her if asked. All of the Phoenix Wing and Storm Crows looked out at the field; the army of Dumat's Will was miles from the gate, rows of them with their wall shields lined up. Their armour gave Daenerys the impression of dragons, and army of men with dragon scales.
"Who is he fighting?" Viserys asked as Daenerys and Maric joined him.
Fausten looked out across the field, seeing the man who would be Daario's opponent. All he could make out with his aged eyes was the brown robe he wore and the long handled sword the man carried. Daario circled the man, sizing him up, he couldn't tell if there was muscle or bone behind the man's robe. Still, the man had a long sword and such a weapon would take time to draw from its sheath. Daario favoured speed, striking key targets with his knife or simply throwing it with the accuracy he had practiced over many years. Many an enemy had fallen to his knife throws in a duel.
But such a tactic wouldn't fell this enemy!
There was a clang when the swordsman raised his arm, underneath the sleeve of his robe was a gauntlet stern enough to deflect Daario's knife. He quickly drew his Arakh and advanced on his opponent, done with being flashy. But the man ducked underneath the swing of his sword and brought his head up, catching Daario's face with it. Stunned, Daario quickly brought his sword around, but the man was already drawing his sword from its sheath. Partway drawn, he blocked Daario's sword with his and then bashed it aside. Daario was able to bring his sword up again and held it with both hands.
Daenerys gasped when he saw the swordsman swing his sword through Daario, faster than she'd seen a sword move before. First came his face, bloodying his beard and eyes. Then his wrist, severing the arteries so badly that he dropped his sword. His chest plate was cut off with the flash like cuts, leaving a series of gashes on his chest. Daario fell to his knees, looking at the blood running across his chest in horror. His opponent sheathed his sword for a moment, separating his legs, shuffling his feet into a stance with one hand on the sheath and another on the sword. Suddenly, he drew the blade and as he did swept it through Daario's neck.
Fausten watched the swordsman sheath his sword, feeling Daenerys pass out from the shock behind him. Truthfully it was a lesson Fausten knew was coming for Daenerys, they would not win every battle and not everyone she loved would survive. Also, the strongest fighters would not always join their camp. He kept his hand on Viserys's shoulder, keeping him from making a rash choice as Dumat's Will rode into Yunkai. The swordsman walked amongst them, and finally Fausten could see him. He possessed tanned skin and wild brown hair that suggested he was of Rivain, scars on his face hinted that he had lived through battle as Daario had. Yet there was no charm, no bravado to the man, in fact his face was one devoid of joy or even pride in his work.
"Swordsman, your name," Fausten demanded.
The man looked over his shoulder at Fausten.
"How's your daughter Fausten?" was all he said before he walked away.
"Who was that?" Viserys asked.
"My daughter's old lover, Daymon Kallus!"
Next Chapter 24: Warden's keep
Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter, next time we go back to Daylen and the group from Westeros.