= Chapter 31 =
When the shabby Stubborn stood on the dock, it immediately attracted the attention of all the townspeople of Lordport.
A whole crowd of curious ironborns had gathered, who remembered who the ship belonged to, and remembered exactly where it had gone the last time.
Torn sails, moss-covered sides and a bottom that was probably starting to rot. A sea giant that had survived such a long voyage could not come out of it completely intact.
Erich had to yell at some of the sailors, weaned from being immediately lowered to land and tied to the moorings.
The Iron Guards standing nearby along with Botley's guards immediately began moving through the crowd towards them. The townspeople immediately parted their sides, fearful of the guards and the Pike Guards, as they were known throughout the Iron Islands.
Erich, a dirty man with a beard down to his neck, stepped forward to meet the guards.
-My name is Erich Harlow, I am the captain of this ship. -My name is Erich Harlow.
-We know who you are,' one of them replied, 'Gars the Grim warned us of your return and ordered us to escort you to Pike at once.
-My crew is tired, my ship looks as if it will sink in a few hours, and I wish to fill my belly to the brim-can Gars the Eel wait?
-Pardon me, m'lord, but no, I remember Eelgrimy's words like the back of my hand.
He showed his fingers, among which the ring finger was missing.
Erich complied, feeling a gaping emptiness in his stomach and irritation. Lastly, he ordered his XO, Goren, to feed and water the crew, throwing his last savings into his hands. As well as to tidy up. 'And shave off your beards!'
Goren tousled his weighty facial hair. Erich was sure his XO would prefer to keep it. Too often he began to touch it and rave about how it suited him.
Harlow had been given a small, ungainly horse to make it easier to get to Pike. Erich remembered that good and large horses had never been in demand in all his time. The islanders had no need for them - most of them preferred to walk on their own feet rather than use nags.
The Guardsmen who surrounded Harlow themselves used good, thoroughbred horses.
As he walked through the damp streets of Lordport, Erich saw the bright faces of children running through puddles, splashing all around them, the bustling merchants and their servants, the voices of women, the shouts and clanging of the blacksmith's hammer, the smiling young warriors coming to enlist in Botley's or Greyjoy's service.
Lordsport was thriving, blooming and colourful, despite the terrible clouds over the Isles and the cold wind blowing in from the sea.
As their small party of eight approached Pike, Erich fidgeted on his horse's saddle. At the sight of the mighty castle, where he had been for a long time, he felt terribly uncomfortable.
The dark vaults of the fortress, built on a promontory and a dozen small rocks, somehow made him want to turn round and gallop back immediately, if only not to look back!
He had never felt anything like that before when looking at the Greyjoy fiefdom.
The guardsmen were slow to engage him in conversation. All commoners, they looked at Erich with indifference and no piety. They had only one lord: Lord Greyjoy. And no one else.
He glanced at the banners of the Iron Guard, taking in the crest. An unusual helmet with protruding kraken tentacles on a black and gold striped background. The helmet was grinning in a fierce snarl, and the tentacles, evenly spaced with eight limbs, seemed to move and give signs of life on the black and yellow fabric.
Whichever weaver had woven it on his mentor's orders had done a good job.
When they reached the gate, the sergeant shouted to the guards to let them through. The sentry, who knew each of the guardsmen by sight, gave the signal and the steel-clad gates let them through.
Despite the summer, the courtyard at Pike was still as damp and trampled by the countless marches of the castle guards.
Rodrick Harlow received him at the Great Castle, in his own chambers, wanting to speak privately. He poured him some Arborian wine and slid him some hot chowder, which Erich ate with relish, feeling the silent, studying gaze of the old ironborn.
Not a single russet hair could be found on the Reader's grey head, and his face had acquired many wrinkles, especially on his square forehead.
Despite his age, the old man had not grown fat, but rather thin as a reed, and it even seemed to Erich that the Lord of the Ten Towers had become shorter. The old man's eyes were always squinting at him, which made him feel uncomfortable again. He didn't say a word during the meal, watching, which made him lose all appetite nearing the middle of satiety.
He took the Myrian glass and put it to his eye, which made Erich realise at once that the man sitting opposite him had too little vision.
-I don't know what made you sail beyond the Sunset Sea,' Lord Rodrik began in a non-accusatory tone, 'but it was brave. Brave and foolish of you. Not all experienced captains will do it, and you're still young enough for such feats.
Erich didn't answer, waiting for him to continue, and Lord Rodrik didn't wait long:
-I don't like the fact that my intended heir prefers to follow his heart rather than his duty. Though I realise.
-I am not your heir.
Rodrik Harlow looked at him with a sneer.
-Presumptive, Erich. But you are the best and most obvious of all the Harlows. Your father is a little younger than I am, and the Hunchback is too petty and greedy. Not to mention Harras can't inherit the Ten Towers.
-If a man doesn't want power and his own castle, why should he be forced to take it in hand? - Erich asked.
Spend his whole life locked up in stone, damp walls amongst servants and an unloved wife?
He may be a fool, in Rodrik's opinion, but he would never do such a foolish thing, chaining himself to the ground forever.
-Yes, indeed, but Lord Greyjoy wishes it,' Rodrik said, 'Do you know how many want to sit in the Ten Towers as lord of the richest of the isles? One insolent man even offered to take my name and marry one of my relatives.
Erich didn't ask what happened to the unfortunate man. The reader was not known for a violent temper, but even he will not be able to tolerate such a thing. Bannermen and captains wouldn't understand.
-Mentor...' he said bitterly, 'how is he?
-You probably don't know yet, though I thought Lord Ralph had told you.
-I know Lord Greyjoy is in King's Landing now.
-He's Master of the Ships now and serves His Highness Aegon the Sixth on the Small Council. The younger of the two Harlows stared in surprise at the grinning lord.
-Doesn't King Targaryen have any other naval commanders? We are disliked by many on the continent, and to pull a stunt like this is a stab to the ego.
-You're right, but the intrigues of King's Landing are too tangled a web to unravel so easily. And I'm afraid my nephew might make a big mess of things there, he's... changed a lot in the time you've been away.
Erich didn't like those last words. There was too much uncertainty and even a little fear in them. What could have frightened Lord Rodrik about his mentor?
He let Erich go on his word that he would not sail anywhere else, but would prepare to leave for King's Landing. It would take him several full moons to get the Stubborn in shape, but there was one problem. He had no money. Everything he'd saved up travelling around Essos had been spent on building a new ship, and he'd given the last remnants to Goren to feed the crew.
Thinking about how to get money for repairs, he missed the arrival of his own father, Boremund, nicknamed Blue, a few days after his return.
-Father,‖ he greeted him at the Guest Castle. The stern gaze of searing blue eyes travelled him from top to bottom.
-You have changed a great deal since the last time we met, son.
No kind words or cheerful greeting came from his father. He was always too indifferent to his son and his wife, more interested in young maids and laundresses. Erich would not be surprised to learn that he had not two brothers, but a dozen.
-I've travelled a lot and seen a lot.
-Leave your boasting to Harlon and Ginir,' Boremund said with a wave of his hand. 'You broke Lord Greyjoy's orders and left the Iron Islands for the Drowned God knows where. Many chattered that if you returned, you would be hanged on the walls of Pyke immediately. Apparently luck favours you since you've returned and are still alive.
'If Lord Theon were to hang me, it would only be for an irreparable offence, not a simple escape.'
Boremund the Blue, so named for his eyes, has never been intimately acquainted with the master of the Iron Islands.
Greyjoy prefers to use the people he needs to the end. And he always preferred to punish the guilty with cunning and benefit to himself at the same time, rather than just chopping off heads and hanging peasants for stealing.
Erich knew this, though it was not the reason for his confidence in the day ahead. In a way, his mentor was unpredictable about many things.
-Father, Lord Greyjoy has instructed me to go to King's Landing. But...
-You have no money,' Father guessed, and then his face twisted. His hand instantly reached for the pouch on his belt.
-There are fifty gold dragons in here,' he said, 'that should be enough for you.
Erich was stunned. He had not expected such generosity from his father.
-That's a lot of money, father...
-It should be enough for your big ship, son,' Boremund said through gritted teeth, 'if Lord Greyjoy wants you in that stinking cesspool called Harbour, you should hurry.
He accepted the money from his father, though he realised it wasn't from the heart.
-How are Harlon and Ginir? - he asked. His relationship with his brothers had never been warm, but it had never been cold. They had rarely seen each other since he'd been squire to the then Prince Theon Greyjoy and had never exchanged letters. More likely because his father had been economising on parchment and ink.
'But he was always generous with gifts to his mistresses,' I thought angrily.
-"They are grown up, dreaming of going on raids. And their lordship's father must buy armour and a good axe, so that these fools survive, not die of fever, somewhere in the jungles of the Evergreen Archipelago.
Harlon must be fifteen now, and the youngest, Ginir, thirteen. If their father still honours them with all they need, in a few years they will go on campaigns, to bring glory and riches to the family with the Iron Price.
If not, they would likely escape from their father's care and join the crew of a free captain. Sometimes he thanked the Drowned God that he had become Lord Greyjoy's squire rather than stay at Witch's Hill, a small stone fortress with quadrangular towers on a rocky shore.
His father did not leave him, reminding him of himself again the next day by sitting beside him at dinner in the Great Wormhole.
All the important people were there, from Gars the Sullen to Rodrik Harlow, who was talking to little Rognar, who was already famous for his violent and stubborn temper.
The only thing he did not notice was Lady Gwyn, who was now locked in her chambers, awaiting the coming labour. The castle was populated by herbalists, maesters, and even a few strange doctors from Essos.
He remembered stories of a healer famous in the Summer Isles coming to Pike in the Iron Islands. Before he could even reach the castle, he had already been slaughtered in Lordsport on Lord Botley's orders.
-Lord Rodrik said he wants only you to be the next Lord of the Ten Towers,' his father told him with a hard look as he leaned close to him. He smelled of bad Lordport drink and fish, which made Erich uncomfortable. 'What did you do to please the powerful regent so much?
They were sitting too far away from Lord Harlow at the great long table, and so Boremund had no fear of being overheard.
-I said I don't want to be his heir,' Erich admitted.
-Durak,' whispered his father, 'the fruit of fortune falls into your hands, and you refuse it for nothing?
-I am not content to be Lord of Harlow, father. If you wish, I can yield to you if you persuade him to reject my candidacy.
-No, the Reader is convinced that it is you who should inherit it,' Boremund said with impotent anger-not at Erich or Lord Rodrik, but at the situation itself-but there is Hotho the Hunchback, and he too must already know everything. And has a vested interest in this, believe me, if you become a lord, you'll have to marry his daughter.
He had the honour of seeing Hoto the Hunchback - short and hunched over. His liquid brown hair and unattractive appearance did not make him a favourite with the people around him. Nor was he a renowned warrior or captain, quite the opposite.
The Lord of the Tower of Flicker is a squabbling and petty man who likes to fawn and bow to anyone who will give him a large purse or a grain of influence. Lord Greyjoy once said of him, 'Skilful flatterers are as skilful slanderers,' and kept Hotho the Hunchback at a distance from himself and his court.
His daughter must now be over twenty, but the Hunchback kept her carefully from all who wished to take her as a wife. They say she is not hunchbacked, and has succeeded far better than her father, going to her mother.
'Who, by the way, if rumour is to be believed, Hoto the Hunchback married for mad love.'
He had never seen her and doubted that even if Hunchback were a jealous advocate of female purity, Nessa Harlow was a virgin.
A drowned God, he did not want and hated even the thought of getting a squalid wife to be governed by the will of her greedy father.
-So let Hoto the Hunchback become Lord Harlow, not me! - he growled, and the whole table turned its attention to him.
Boremund pretended not to speak to him, and Rodrik leaned his Myrian glass against it to get a closer look at the screamer.
Five minutes later, when everyone had gone about their business, his father moved closer to him again and gave him a look that did not bode well.
-You must agree, or there will be a quarrel. I will not stand aside if Hoto has even the slightest chance of becoming heir to the Ten Towers, and the Hunchback will not let it go.
-Offer him Harlon, and make Ginir your heir,' he said in disgust; 'make his brother Lord Rodrik's squire, and let him teach him all the ways of a lord.
-He's young, and Rodrik's been slipping lately. But if that is your wish,' his father finally left him alone and went straight to his fish chowder and boiled earth apple.
Several months passed before the Stubborn was brought into fighting shape. He had paid a considerable sum to several shipwrights at once, but they had done their work well.
He never said a word about the lands he'd discovered during his stay, only told Rodrik Harlow, who didn't believe him at first, but then told him to tell Lord Greyjoy himself.
But the rumours had already started in Lordsport, as his crew described what they'd seen in the taverns and brothels.
Erich did not try to shut them up, realising the futility of doing so.
Some of the free captains, when they heard about it, wanted to repeat young Harlow's feat, but changed their minds when they learnt that sea monsters were rampaging beyond the Sunset Sea and cruel savages lived in the new land.
The Summer Isles were nearer and dearer to them. Having replenished his supplies, hired a couple of new sailors on board, and taken Lord Greyjoy's squires, Rickon Stark and Dagon Drumm, he set off for King's Landing, away from the scrutiny of Rodrik Harlowe, who had not abandoned the idea that he should inherit the Ten Towers.
The old lord had given up on the idea of raising Harlon, even though he was fifteen years old and would assume the lordship immediately after the Reader's death, not content with the regency.
What old Harlow was thinking was unknown to Erich, but the whole Ten Towers thing was beginning to smell bad. He suspected it was the hand of his mentor, who had favoured making him lord rather than anyone else.
He did not immediately sail towards the Misty Isles and the South Seas. A few days at sea and lo and behold, they docked at Bright Isle, where his kinsman, Harras Harlow, nicknamed the Knight, ruled.
He was one of those rare ironborn who had accepted the knighthood of the Seven, but had never abandoned his native faith in the Drowned God.
The last time he had seen him had been many years ago. Erich couldn't say whether it had been five or six, but Harras hadn't changed a bit in that time.
Blond, long hair, neat beard, tall stature, and a hard face without a hint of kindness.
Despite his warrior's appearance and behaviour, Harras was known as a fair and true to his word lord. He loved to dress in fine armour before meeting every important guest, be it a suzerain or a relative from the Iron Islands.
Evil tongues whispered that he was the Lord of the Bright Isle, more like a gold and silver clad Westerner than an Ironborn.
The knight received him warmly, with all honour, and gave him a small feast. He seated him beside him and his own wife, and his two sons and daughter he planted beside the squires of the tutor.
Alyssana Farman seemed to have grown even paler and sadder since their last meeting. The woman's eyes were forever filled with longing for her dead family and the realisation that the Light Isle was now ruled by the Ironborn, who had been taught to hate and be wary, not to live under the same roof.
He could see no love in her for her husband or her children. The woman was silent all the time and looked at everyone around her with a judgemental gaze.
Even such a noble and handsome husband could not melt her heart.
-I'm glad you decided to visit your kinsman,' Harras smiled as they exchanged greetings, 'I hear you've returned from across the Sunset Sea.
-Yes, it was a rough voyage,' Erich agreed and began to talk about the monsters he had seen in the sea. About the unusual, poisonous fish the sailors had caught, about how there were things scarier than huge sea dragons and kraken.
He wanted to tell of the warm lands he had encountered, but something stopped him.
Maybe it was Rodrick Harlow's disbelief, or maybe it was just intuition, but he kept silent about the warm lands and their crazy inhabitants.
-Harras,' he began, catching one of the pauses after another account of his journey, 'our mutual kinsman, Lord Rodrik, wishes to make me heir to the Ten Towers.
The Lord of the Bright Isle smiled sincerely at him.
-The Drowned God favours you, young Erich. You will continue the main branch of the lords of the Ten Towers.
-But I have no desire to sit on the throne of Harlow,' he admitted, and the Knight tilted his head in surprise. 'Lord Rodrik wants a young and experienced successor, and I don't see myself in that role. You are the man for the job.
His expression changed from friendly and sincere to frowning and tired.
-I see your ruse, dear Erich, but know that I have given my word that I and my descendants will never claim any land in the Iron Islands as long as we rule the Bright Isle.
-A word is worth nothing,' a caressing, feminine voice cut into their conversation. Alisanna Farman looked at her husband with an indifferent gaze expressing no affection, -Your children could become lords of vast lands, and you refuse such a chance, my lord husband.
Harras threw a fierce glare at her, and the Lady of the Bright Isle ducked into her plate. Erich was uncomfortable with the scene before him, but he remained silent.
-Don't listen to my foolish wife, Erich. If I am not true to my word, why should I demand loyalty from my men? If I demand the Ten Towers, Lord Rodrik will be angry, and Theon Greyjoy will hold me accountable for my broken word and promise.
-You gave your word, but not your letter.
-You're wrong, my liege lord has demanded that of me as well. And I don't want to quarrel with the Sorcerer. You haven't seen him, have you? I did, many moons ago, when all the lords gathered under the walls and roofs of Pyke at the beginning of Summer.
-You're not the first to tell me that the master of Pyke has changed. -And you won't be the last.
-And not the last,' Harras leaned toward him. His clear eyes glittered and clouded as he sank into the memories. 'It was truly frightening. I didn't pay attention at first, but then I realised something was wrong. The demeanour, the way he walked, the way he looked... everything became different and gut-wrenching every time I met him.
The knight said nothing more, but Erich would be tormented by his words for the rest of the trip.
They left Bright Isle the next day and immediately set course for the Misty Isles, where he intended to replenish supplies and prepare for the long voyage across the South Seas.
Craghorn spent the entire trip teaching the squires how to fight on the ship. Sometimes Torgon the Archer joined in the fun, showing the younglings how to use an arrow gun. If Rickon Stark, red-haired and newly thirteen, saw everything as a fun game or maddeningly interesting, his fellow Dagon Drumm looked on with dull curiosity.
The two boys were not particularly friendly, though they chatted quietly among themselves. At times comparisons of both to him and Quor came to mind. If it wasn't purely coincidental, Stark was more like Quor and Drumm more like him.
-Can I be the helmsman? - Stark asked a cheeky question, to which Erich smiled politely, but replied with a firm refusal.
-You're too young and you don't know the basics. Leading a ship is hard and sometimes thankless, young Teen Wolf.
Next to Rickon was a black direwolf, whose size and ferocity frightened many sailors.
No one dared approach Shaggy Dog, as the boy called him.
-Then I want to learn! - said the red-haired boy in skins with a big smile.
Siegfried Pike looked lazily at the insolent man who wanted to take away his right to be stern.
-Not in this life, Teen Wolf.
Rickon grinned.
-Shaggy Dog will drive you away from the helm and I'll sit in your place.
-And you know how to steer a ship? - Zigfrey asked with a grin, not the least bit frightened by the teenager's words, 'If we run into a storm, even a ship this good won't hold up if it isn't steered properly. Boy, why don't you mind your own business instead of bothering me?
-Rickon,' Erich said to his squire, 'don't touch Siegfried. Tell me, Teen Wolf, what do you think of Pike?
-Damp, gloomy, and frozen,' the boy admitted, not the least bit embarrassed by the dozen ironborn listening to him, 'but I like it!
Craghorn, standing behind him, laughed.
-Are you sure you're a northerner, little Teen Wolf?
-Only a Northerner of all people would like Pike,' Euron Sharp-faced snorted, 'The North isn't a hospitable place, either, and it's cold enough to freeze your balls off.
-Hey, little Northerner, you want to play a game of axes? - Craghorn smiled wryly, but Erich pulled him back.
-He's too young. Find an opponent of your own strength, Craghorn.
'If the boy loses a finger or two on the way, Lord Greyjoy will have me for sure.'
The sailor did not insist, preferring instead to look for another willing man.
-I hear Lord Greyjoy has changed a lot,' Erich threw in, to which Rickon screwed up his ugly face, confirming Harlow's words, 'I haven't seen my master since I set sail for the far west.
-The- Lord Theon has become frightening.
-Fearful? - he clarified.
-My Shaggy Dog was never afraid of Lord Greyjoy. But now he won't go near him without a direct order.
-What do you think, boy?
He looked at Rickon Stark with an attentive gaze. The boy was not renowned for his height, but at his age he was not required to be. A few years would pass and the little Northerner's height would go up. His red hair was too bright, as if kissed by fire, and his young face, devoid of scars, would win many women's hearts in the future.
-After his illness, I didn't talk much with the teacher. He was always busy and locked himself in his chambers. After that, he went to King's Landing. We were taught by Maester Lothar and Lord Rodrik.
Without getting much further, Erich chose not to press the boy any further.
A few weeks later they were in the Misty Isles, staying in Oak Shield, the personal domain of the stern Victarion. As it turned out, the sullen and taciturn uncle of the mentor was not present, instead his... wife ruled the place.
Miriel Greyjoy, maiden Lannister, was overly polite and deliberately indifferent, not even asking about news from the Iron Islands.
The Misty Isles hadn't changed a bit, the same bleak landscapes, the same fishermen on the shores and the same warriors in the taverns of Oak Town.
Many here were simply waiting for Lord Victarion to return from the Summer Isles to try their luck at joining the Iron Fleet.
Miriel Greyjoy herself had provided Erich and two squires with private quarters. He suspected that if they hadn't all been Lord Greyjoy's apprentices, they would have had to spend the night in Oak City with the crew.
After haggling with the local ironborn traders from the Oak Trade Guild, and replenishing the Stubborn's supplies that way, they were back at sea in a few days.
The only thing memorable was Rickon and Dagon's constant pestering of Halleck Greyjoy.
Erich looked at the black-haired and green-eyed boy and began to suspect that character was indeed hereditary, contrary to Lord Theon's words.
He was grim, as unsociable as his father, but there was intelligence lurking in his eyes unlike the Lord Captain of the Iron Fleet.
'Drowned God, the Greyjoys and Lannisters have never married in all the last three hundred, if not a thousand years.'
They reached Arbor and rounded it, not daring to stop. The locals still remembered the atrocities of the ironmen, and ships bearing any banner from the Isles were forbidden to dock in the harbours.
The crew of the Stubborn had to endure a long sea voyage in the South Sea, near the rocky shores of Dorne.
He thought about stopping at Gargalen Castle, Salt Beach, but changed his mind. The amount of supplies and speed endured, so after a long fortnight-plus they found themselves in Boardwalk City.
As the voyage progressed, Rickon Stark nearly managed to get scurvy, and Dagon Drumm nearly ate a fish from the ocean on his own.
Later, their ship's cook, Quelli, uses a coin to find out the fish was poisoned.
-You're too rowdy,' Erich remarked, speaking more to Rickon than to his partner, Dagon, 'We'll be staying in Boardwalk City. Behave yourselves with humility and caution. The Dornish are a touchy people.
-Erich,' Rickon addressed him in a patronising manner. Not the least bit offended, more of a snort, Harlow looked at him. 'Everyone says they're going to the brothel. I'm going too.
The whole crew burst into laughter at such a cheeky statement. Harlow looked at the little brat with a smile.
Rickon held Drumm by the scruff of his neck with the words, 'Him too!' even though the boy looked much younger than Stark.
-Do you have the money to pay for a girl for yourself? - Erich smirked, and suddenly Stark pulled out a small pouch of silver stags mixed with copper pennies and halfpennies.
-Lord Theon gave me money to buy goodies, so I've been saving up,' Rickon told the surprised sailors.
-And the boy has a good mind to trade ordinary sweets for a woman's charms...,' muttered Ostrolytsy.
-All right, boy,' Erich nodded, 'you may become a man today, but leave Drumm alone. He is still small compared to you.
Dagon did not take offence, but sighed in relief and moved away from Rikon, who let him go. He smiled his favourite broad smile, like a wolf's grin.
Boardwalk Town was a strange place, in Erich's opinion. It couldn't be compared to any other city due to the fact that it stood right on the water, and its roads were decks, and its houses were constructed out of a hundred flat-topped houses.
Erich's massive ship impressed the Dornish. There was even some problem with mooring the ship, but one of the Dornish gave them space at a convenient pier for the Stubborn for a small fee.
He could only feel sad that the money his father had given him was slowly drifting into the hands of sailors, merchants and the local harbour master.
The spicy Dornish food and the warmth of the women brightened his mood of spending for a while. Dornish women were indeed worth their money, not the least bit inferior to Lissenian women in the art of lovemaking.
During a couple of days of fun and relaxation in Boardwalk City, Erich had heard various tales from captains from other countries and many rumours from the locals.
The former spoke of huge hordes of nomads that had sacked Yunkai and were now moving towards Astapor, of the fall of Tolos, whose famous slingers could not save it from plunder and devastation. They spoke of the great victory of the Volantians over one of the hordes of these monsters in human skin.
There was talk of the mysterious and powerful blacksmith sorcerer Marango Votta, ruler of Khovor, whose forests swallowed up all invasions from the east.
There were those who claimed that half of Ii-Ti was covered in winter and ice, and that there was now a terrible battle between the living and the dead.
About the Moss vigilantes that had been seen in the colonies of Ibben. This mysterious people rarely travelled beyond their lands, but now their raids were mercilessly devastating the coastal lands of the Ibbenians.
If Erich had not been in the far west and had not seen the sea monsters and the inhuman race before his eyes, he would have laughed at it, but now... the manlike lizard crucified on a tree, the savage faces of the savages who had killed Upland.
The second, the Dornish chattered about the lasciviousness of their princess, who never let a single handsome knight or bard pass her by. Everyone laughed at her Gargalen husband, saying that he was the blindest and stupidest man the world had ever seen.
Harlow even wondered for a moment if the princess's husband realised that he had the biggest horns in Dorne, according to the people of Dorne.
He suspected he did not. If it were him, he would have slaughtered the whore long ago, despite her status and power. No Ironborn would tolerate treason and would take justice into his own hands, as the Law, Old and New, dictated.
There were also rumours of a certain Herold Dane who had suddenly gained great influence in the Dornish court and had killed one of Ironwood's vassals in a quarrel, which made the Sandlands uneasy.
It took them a day to clean themselves up, get full and gather new supplies. Erich always preferred to have his holds full of food rather than hungry and angry sailors.
The pleased yet stunned look on young Stark's face made him laugh.
-Lucky lad,' snorted Sigfrey Pike as he stood in the stern as they left Boardwalk City, 'to become a man with a Dornish woman and not some icy northerner.
With care and constant attention they sailed through the Steps, later Estermont Island, a rocky island with sparse groves and lone trees, past Angry Cape and the Bay of Broken Ships, sailing past Tarth Island as well.
And very soon, three days later, they sailed past Massey's Hook and into Blackwater Bay to end up in King's Landing.
Buzzing with an excessive number of ships, the harbour welcomed them with its many chiefs, controllers and even a few merchants interested in the Stubborn.
Some of them offered to join their service, promising riches and guild protection, but Erich politely declined.
But one of them proved to be overly persistent and intrusive.
-Katio Povatoss gave a great price for your service, honoured captain. With such a mighty ship, it's not a terrible thing to carry the state treasury,' the blue- and red-coloured Pentoshiitza man said, praising the "Stubborn" and Erich himself in every possible way, even touching on the crew of sailors, calling them 'brave and experienced sea wolves who can put down even the pirates of the Steps and the ironborn!
Harlow made no mention of who he was, and, realising that the Pentoshian before him did not know the arms of the Iron Islands, one of which, in the form of a scythe on a grey background, was proudly flying on his ships, continued to listen to the fool's eulogies.
He felt a rare urge to draw blood, but held back, knowing that behind this Pentoshian was considerable power in the form of one of the richest guilds in King's Landing, the Powatoss family.
Despite the foreign surname, the Povatosses had been in Westeros for a little over a century. But they were not about to abandon their roots, and often hired Pentos residents to serve them.
-I'm afraid,' Harlow began, polite in her words, 'I must refuse you again. My master is waiting for me.
-Tell me your master's name and I'll tell you how much richer and more generous Catio Povatoss is,' the Pentoshian continued to sing.
Erich, feeling a gloating sense of vengeance within, said with a rasping voice:
-My lord and suzerain, Theon Greyjoy, High Lord of the Iron Islands and Master of the Ships.
The Pentoshian turned pale as he realised what words he had said and in front of whom. With a tremor in his voice, he asked for Lord Greyjoy's forgiveness and health, hurrying to retreat out of their sight.
He sighed, smelling the unfavourable city smell of foulness mingled with the salt and aromas of freshly caught fish. Hundreds of seagulls chittered, bringing the very zest of any coastal city to the bustle of the crowded sea harbour.
The capital of the Seven Kingdoms hadn't changed a bit since his last visit.
It took him a while to find Lord Greyjoy's manor in the city. He'd been tipped off by a couple of freeborn ironborn captains who were in Harbour on business. When he entered, introducing himself to the Guards (who knew him well enough to make no trouble), Quor came out to meet him.
-Erich! Drowned God, how good to see you!
They shook hands with serious faces, only to embrace a moment later with laughter.
-How long has it been since we last met? A year, two years?
-I can't say,' Harlow admitted frankly, 'but you've changed a lot in that time.
-"You too, mate, you too!
Quor grinned as he saw the two squires following behind him. Rickon Stark grinned back.
-Ha, who do I see, Lord Greyjoy's little henchmen! Come to smell the local filth!
He waved his hand, laden with several gold rings, towards the city.
-They are with me by order of Lord Theon,' he explained.
From behind Quor, a red-furred wolf's face appeared, staring at Shaggy Dog.
The two wolves approached each other and sniffed. The direwolf was larger than the Southerner, but the latter boasted a more violent temperament than even little Stark's fierce pet.
Erich suspected that his master's temper was involved.
They passed through the entrance, finding themselves in the mansion's living room. Bought six months ago, the manor boasted numerous black and yellow banners and decorations that Lord Greyjoy had bought in the Harbour and brought back from his homeland.
Everyone here was familiar to him, ironborn, and there was no one else his mentor took into his personal service.
Kuor ordered the two short men to prepare something for them immediately, mentioning that they should put more grain in the feeder for his raven, and preferably some insects or rodents.
Those quickly ran to the kitchen, and in ten minutes Erich and the squires could enjoy a soup with succulent meat, vegetables, and pieces of sliced earth apple.
-Lord Greyjoy was in a bad mood when he heard of your escape,' Quor began, 'I don't know what he will say, but you must realise that you will not escape punishment.
-I admit I may have made a mistake in disobeying my mentor's advice,' Erich admitted, 'but I'm a free man, a free captain, and I didn't swear an oath to the Greyjoys.
Quor narrowed his eyes.
-You know very well that we are all under Lord Greyjoy's banner, whether you're a free captain or a simple farmer. You ran away, leaving your master behind, and for that you should really take a beating.
He remained silent, knowing full well that he might lash out at his friend. He had no desire to break the bonds of friendship and quarrel with the man with whom he had spent so many years under the same roof and had been through many troubles, whether as a child or during their youth.
Nor did Erich remind him that Quor had been away from the Islands when Lord Theon had fallen gravely ill, frolicking in the Evergreen Archipelago.
But he shook himself away from that thought, realising that his friend was more right than wrong.
It was at that moment that Lord Greyjoy entered the drawing room, his eyes fixed on him.
He felt uncomfortable. He was even more uncomfortable that his mentor had ignored him, turning all his attention to his current squires. After a series of questions about their health, their academic progress, and their impressions of the Harbour, after which Rickon Stark frowned and loudly confessed that he didn't like the city. and loudly confessed that he didn't like the city.
'It was here that his father, Eddard Stark, was tried and executed as a traitor,' Erich recalled, realising where the roots of the boy's possible dislike for the capital might be growing.
Lord Greyjoy had gone to his chambers without so much as a word with him, which made him feel hurt and sick to his stomach. He glanced at Quor, who shook his head and admitted he didn't know what Lord Greyjoy was thinking.
It was not until late afternoon that Dagon Drumm informed him that the master of the manor wished to see him in his private chambers.
Entering the small study, lit only by a small hearth and a couple of candles, he gazed into his mentor's shadow-covered face.
A viscous saliva froze in his mouth, and Erich stood stiff as the piercing eyes stared into his. And turned away, staring into the hearth.
-Sit down, Erich,' Theon's quiet voice brought him to his senses, and he immediately sat down across from him.
The man was silent, and Erich didn't know what to say either.
He stared into the face of the man he had known since he was a little boy and didn't recognise him. Something about him had changed - and yet nothing had changed.
Face, figure, clothes, manners - everything remained the same, but the look and some uncharacteristic movements ...
All this frightened him and put him in an incomprehensible awe.
For a moment he thought Theon Greyjoy was dead and the Faceless One in his mask was sitting in front of him.
Only for a moment.
-What did you see? - At last Greyjoy looked at him, -What did you see out there, beyond the edge of the Sunset Sea?
Swallowing, he said.
-A land, mentor, a big land. I don't think it's an island, but a continent.
Erich told him everything. Greyjoy kept repeating himself, and he had to repeat himself. He was not interested in the sea voyage, only glimpsing it: 'You're a lucky boy.'
As proof of his words he took out a bag of petals and leaves, which by this time had shriveled and turned grey, causing him a little embarrassment.
-I know you're not lying,' said the mentor, looking at the petals with a disinterested look, 'beyond the distant Sunset Sea there is indeed a land... a land of opportunity and vast resources, Erich.
The apprentice nodded in agreement, not noticing Greyjoy's 'I know' caveat.
-We could gather five ships, apprentice, and make an expedition! I know the way and we-
-You? -You're staying here.
Harlow stood up, but changed his mind as his mentor's eyes flashed Mad-Eye and he felt uneasy again.
-You will stay here, under my watch. A year from now, you will marry the daughter of Hoto the Hunchback and become the heir to the Ten Towers.
-I told Lord Rodrik I did not wish to be his heir, and he accepted my words.
-You told the wrong lord of your reluctance,' his tutor informed him indifferently, as if speaking of something simple, 'I gave you a choice, but now you have none. You'll have to do it or your kin will cut themselves in the swarf.
'Let them kill each other like dogs for a bone,' the evil thought was firmly imprinted on his face, and Lord Greyjoy narrowed his eyes as he saw or felt something. The room grew darker.
-I'll give you a year to get used to that thought, apprentice. While I need you here.
-What will I do here in the capital? -And what will I do here? And how will the others get to the new lands when I'm the only one who knows the safe way?
-You'll have plenty to do here,' Greyjoy said with a chuckle, 'and don't worry about the safe passage.
-The sea is teeming with sea monsters and storms.
-They'll make it, Erich, I assure you,' Greyjoy said in a quiet, confident tone.
Something alien flashed in the Iron Islander's eyes, making him want to curl up in his chair and not show any signs of life.
Lord Greyjoy stood up and walked over to the hearth, gazing into the smouldering fire. As soon as the eyes of something turned away from him, Harlow felt he could now breathe freely.
-We have a war to fight, apprentice. And the king needs a fleet. A good fleet that can fight back and carry thousands of men, horses, servants. And he needs captains who are lucky and experienced.
-War... with whom?
Greyjoy didn't answer. Only tossed two square iron coins on the table. In the semi-darkness of the room, Erich leaned over to get a closer look at the coinage and froze.
The outline of a titan holding a torch was clearly visible on the coin.
