Davos II

Davos could only shake his head. The guardsman on dock down the plank from Steffon's Call, a former sailor from his cracked skin, gave him a look of exasperation, while somewhere in his features Davos saw a familiar face he could not quite place. Behind this lead guard was four more men, two more guardsmen, and two very familiar men with small chains wrapped around his hand. The two men…boys, in chains, were dressed in the black cloaks that had been handed out to sailors of the Call, and both had the tell tale sigil of a white horned owl on their chests.

"I understand that," the old man's voice was marked with a quiver at it's back, a voice of shouting from along the deck having likely hurt the man's throat, "These," he waved his hands at Polden and Petyr, who tried their best to not meet Davos's gaze, "Happen to be sworn to you?"

Davos had been forced to stay on the Call ever since he had struck LIzabet Antaryon. He had been fine with that, as it meant that he only had to deal with the debates and the niceties and the politics of this all when Stannis returned to the ship. The Lord of Storm's End had taken to spending most of his day rushing from one end of Braavos to another, usually on the island opposite to Ragman's Harbour, so Davos had most of his time to simply rest on his ship, and do what he had to do when it came to maintaining order.

'So much for order,' Davos thought, looking at the young sons of House Mertyn, 'By the Seven, please let them have not done something to toss our audience with the Sealord away.'

"They are sworn to my Lord, yes," Davos said aloud.

"Well, that's good," Davos winced at the Harbour Guard's tone. He'd heard it more than once while attempting to skip past a set of tariffs or bans in a half dozen ports across the seas of this world, "I was worried the damages would be forced to be paid in hard labor."

"Good Ser," Davos said quickly, eyeing the two Mertyn's, who, for their own sakes, at least managed to seem to look ashamed, "Might I ask what damages had been caused, and what," he looked for the right word, "Compensation your city shall need for them?"

"Compensation?" the head guard twisted his head, "My word, Seaworth, you really are starting to act like one of these upjumped bumpkins, aren't you?"

"You know me?" Davos asked, and the taller man snorted. Davos raised a finger to his mouth, and then blinked, and pointed down, "Solys?"

"Thought it was your eyes that you lost when you went to Storm's End," the old man shook his head. There was no laughter there, not like the smuggler that Davos had once known while breaking a high tax on Cinnabar spice almost two decades ago, but familiarity nonetheless, "Have I really become so old that you can't recognize a man who got you through this port with your head attached to your shoulders? Has it truly been that long? Are you a man lacking in simple gratitude?"

Davos looked down, and then felt the edge of his mouth twist upward, "Yes, Yes I am."

"So nothing has changed then," Solys laughed, and then waved back at his fellow guards, and then strutted up the plank. The other two guards looked at one another, and then pushed the two brothers in chains ahead of them forward, up the plank of wood. Davos still kept his eyes on the guards, and had a sword at his side, but he allowed his muscles to loosen as his old friend climbed onto his ship, "My goodness, you have truly done it. You have gone and become respectable," he then smiled, and mocked bow to Davos, "Ser Seaworth."

"I might say the same to you," Davos gave a quick once over, and then pointed at the pat on the side of Solys's tunic, "A captain of the Braavos guard," he leaned forward, and then whispered into the Braavosi's ear, "I dare ask, what do the city's custom board think of you and your past."

"Nothing good," but then, Solys raised his hands into the air, "Yet, I am afraid, this is not a time for reminiscing on freer days though," he then pointed at the two younger sons of house Mertyn, "These two were part of an incident last night, down at the Broomhandle winesink," the two did their best to look down in shame at the mention. Davos felt the deep desire to smack both of them, before reminding himself that these weren't his boys, but sons of an ancient and noble family.

"What was the incident," he looked warily, "There was no…permanent damages, were there?"

"No one raped or stabbed, if that's what you are asking," and the hairs on the back of Davos's neck relaxed as this turned to something less damning, "These two were drinking at the Broomhandle, and somehow, they declared they'd buy every man there a round," Davos blinked, but before he could ask, Solys continued, "They would continue this for several hours, so much so that that particular winesink is now without wine, ale or mead," and then he glared at the two, "Then, these two were found to be lacking the coin to pay for that much drink. The Brromhandle's barman called me in this morning, and I found these two lying over a table stained with vomit and beer."

Davos sighed, looking over the two, though at least glad that this seemed…repariable. He waved at Andrew Estermont, the man raising an eyebrow, "How much does the owner of the winesink need to cover his losses?" and then Andrew sighed, before turning towards the captain's quarters, where the expedition's supplementary gold was stored in case of an emergency.

The next few minutes were a serious but ultimately cordial discussion. Davos had been able to negotiate most of the damages down, as the two had not been seen actually smashing any of the tables or stools themselves. Still, by the time Solys and the guard removed the shackles from the Mertyn's hands, the man was holding a bag with over half a dozen gold dragons to be used as recompense. The other old smuggler had offered to meet Davos after this was all over, to reminisce on the times before the two had found themselves respectable, but Davos had been forced to put him off, more than aware of the importance of being ready to support his lord the moment Stannis Baratheon needed his counsel.

"Now then," Davos looked down at the two younger men, so young that Davos could still stand over them despite his rather meager stature, "Polden," the taller of the two winced, "Petyr," and then so did the shorter, "What do you think Lord Stannis might say if he were here right now?"

"He," the look on Polden's face, a slight patch on one side from a case of summer pox from many years previous, was that of a boy who had spilt the bucket of water his mother had spent all day gathering, "He would declare us fools for misusing his trust."

"And Petryr," Davos turned to the younger of the two, "What might Lord Stannis do when he returns, and finds that you have been misusing his trust?" the other younger man winced further, before Davos added a, "Well?"

"He would write a Raven to grandmother," the mere mention of the matron and Lady of Mistwood was enough to cause the two to slink further down beneath Davos, and despite himself, Davos could not help but feel a pang of sympathy. He had had the "pleasure" of meeting Mary Mertyns on more than one occasion. She was not especially cruel, but she was much to handle, and was very much quick to spit at insults to her family. If that dishonor should come from one of her own, Davos could only imagine how she might use her talons.

"Well then," he said, "It is very good that I am here, and not Lord Stannis," the two young men noticeably picked up, "Now, you both will not be going back on leave, you lost that right," the two winced again, but nodded, "And," he leaned forward, "I am looking for a fostering for my sixth son," the boy's eyes widened, and they nodded, "Shall you put in a good word to your father about Stannis coming into the care of Mistwood?"

"Of course Ser Seaworth," the two bowed their heads, swiftly enough that both knew they had managed to get away with their misbehavior. Davos did his best to maintain a stern, knightly look. He was still not used to this sort of noble behavior, trading favors with other families when his lord was not looking, but he had to do so. There were many who looked askance at a "Smuggler" being the Storm Lord's right hand. Should anything happen that could break the bond between Seaworth and their patron, they would need to have built bonds with the other lords of the Stormlands.

'And if paying off an obscene tab is all that is required to get another son knightly training,' he thought as the two young men stood up strong, 'then so be it.'

"Now then," Davos waved his hand behind his back, "Best you two return to the crew quarters," the two nodded. As they made their way onto the deck, Davos had a thought, and then asked, "Though I must ask, why in the Seven's names did you end up in another winesack? Matthos said you and the rest bought the rooms at the Outcast inn for your shore leave?"

The two young men looked at eachother, eyes twitching as they did so. Davos could feel his headache return, as he slowly considered that perhaps he had made a poor decision. After a moment, Polden said, "Well ser, it seemed to us that we were not really wanted in the rooms last evening, considering everything," Davos could hear the attempt to hide what that "Everything" was. And he certainly seemed to show it on his face, as the Polden winced, and continued his story, "Petyr and I ser…well, I'm betrothed to Alyna Beesbury ser, and well Petyr and one of the serving girls at-"

"Polden," Petyr hissed, before adding, "Alyna probably wouldn't have like the way you looked at that woman at the Broomhandle!"

"Neither would Ness," Polden answered, pointing, "Besides, I was looking at her hair, you were looking at her-"

"Boys!" the two snapped to attention. He took a great breath in through his nostrils, let out an equal breath of building frustration, and decided to get the whole thing over with, "Now please, tell me what has happened with the rest of those ingrates that has your eyes as wide as the bird on your chests'?"

"...well…"

Davos shoved the door to the Outcast Inn open with such force that it slammed into the wall. The innkeeper immediately stood up, causing the man to get red faced as Davos stormed towards him. The indignation in the man seemed to die as he looked Davos in the eye, and he, after a moment, stammered out, "May I help you?"

"What room did you give the part of the Stormlands?" his question caused the innkeeper to lose most of the color from his face, and he immediately pointed upward.

"Top floor," he then pulled out a key from his desk, "It has a lock on it, so you mi-" he stopped, as Davos snatched the key from him using the hand with all its finger tips, "Ser, please, do not cause a scene, all the issues from last night were paid fo-"

"That makes things worse," Davos had heard about the rules of this place, how the innkeeper didn't want certain business, "Tell me, how much money did they give you to look the other way?" Just as the innkeeper was about to open his mouth, Davos held up a finger missing the outer knuckle, "Do not answer me, it shall only make this worse than it is," the old man slowly nodded his head, as Davos pocketed the key.

Davos turned on his heel, and was met with the sight of Nick Storm sitting at one of the tables, a bowl of something or other sitting before him as a breakfast. Davos walked up to him, looked down at the poor shaking bastard, and then asked, "Were you part of las-"

"No ser," the boy squeaked.

"Back to the Call."

The bowl was all that was left on the table, as Nick Storm shot out of the inn, barely seeming to keep himself from screaming. Davos then turned, and marched up the stairs. Every step he took, his thoughts got darker, and more filled with fury.

'How could he,' he growled inwardly, 'After everything I did to get to this life,' he tighten the fist cut at the outer knuckles, 'he goes and does something like this, taking the generosity of Stannis Baratheon, chewing it up, and spitting it out like tarbark. When I get my hands on you Matthos, I'm going to-'

His thoughts continued in such a manner until he finally reached the top floor. He reached out his hand, and slammed his fist into the door. He heard nothing. He slammed his fist into the door again, and this time heard what sounded like a body hitting the floor. A few seconds later, he heard more movement. Finally, he heard the sound of feet trodding towards the door. Finally, he heard a lock begin to come undone, and the door open.

Whatever Brus Buckwell had been expecting, his face morphed into shock and horror as soon as his eyes met Davos's. The younger man's jaw fell open, and he nearly fell backward over his naked body. He managed to keep on his feet, and he reached out to grab a small cloth on a nearby counter. He brought that down to cover his groin, before he raised his hand, and Davos could only groan at a man who had managed to take to the deck of a ship so well was now falling over himself on dry land.

"Brus," Davos said, looking down at the man from Bronzegate, "What were you doing last night?"

"Ser Seaworth," the younger man managed to say, "I…let me say ser, that I this was not my-"

"Brus," a throaty, feminine voice cut the Buckwell off, and Davos did his best to look to the side when, on one of the couches against the side of the room, a naked girl sat up. Davos was able to see her Rhoynish complexion, and signed, when a quick glance alon another couch led him to see another girl with ash brown hair laying atop the sleeping form of Jonos Storm, who was also still completely asleep. The Rhoynish girl, just having woken, turned her head, and in horror pulled up a long cloth to cover herself.

"Tis not your fault," Davos just only managed, "These fools are to blame," he looked over at the Buckwell, "Where are-"

"Adam's in the room over there," Davos could appreciate that these boys would never have made good smugglers, watching Brus point at one of the two closed door, "And…well," Brus pointed at the other one, and Davos didn't have to guess who was in the second one. Davos, the weight about what he was going to see on his shoulders, marched to the door, and knocked on it.

"Coming," and Davos could at least be glad that Mathos seemed to have his bearings. He almost allowed himself to be happy when his son opened the door with a tunic and trousers on. His son's eyes widened, "Oh, father," Davos watched as his son began to sweat, "I was…I um," Davos brought his eyes over Mathos's shoulder, and saw a girl with porcelain skin and long black hair spiraling out her head over sheets and pillows of a bed, "This isn-" he stopped when Davos brought his eyes directly to meet his own.

"What, then, is this?" Davos made sure it was his left hand pointed at Mathos's face, the stub of his pointer finger directly aimed at Mathos's nose, "It seems to me, that you ignored specific orders from Lord Stannis to keep yourself away from whores," he pointed into the room, "And it seems to me, that you were not doing as he instructed, but making a fool of him by bringing in girls to the very rooms he approved," he then growled the last part, "And paid for."

"Ser," the Rhoynish girl behind him spoke up. Davos turned to look at her, as she continued, "Not to be rude, but we aren't whores," Davos must have given her a queer look, as she began to sputter out quickly, "We are maidens…well," she didn't even bother to look him in the eye, "Were maidens."
"My dear girl," Davos did his best to restrain his anger. There was no need to rage at a poor girl being used by these boys, "There is no need to lie to me, " he had been to enough ports to know that even pretty girls had to do whatever it took to put food in their bellies. Including denying being whores, if only to protect the wounded pride of the fools seeking their bodies, "Though I suggest that you return to your…quarters," he coughed, "As soon as possible. I need to dress these boys down.

"Father," Davos turned to Mathos once again, who had his hands out in a pleading manner, "The girl, she is speaking the truth, at least with Shera. There is blood to," Davos glared at Mathos, who stopped that line of speech, before continuing with a new one, "I am telling you, we did not pay for them, they came willingly," he threw his hand out, pointing at her, "I…she came to my bed not because of something like money, but…"

"But what," Davos crossed his arms, "You are telling me that the four of you somehow managed to find four girls like this just roaming the streets," he growled, "The only girls doing so that freely would be whores. Anyone else of good standing wouldn't let their daughters this young," he turned back, and bowed his head at the Rhoynish girl, "Sorry miss," and then returned his gaze to Mathos, "To be wandering on their own."

"We weren't on our own when we first met," Mathos explained, "They were with their lady when we met them last evening. We, Bros, Jonos, Ser Whitehead," Adam Whitehead had been the only one of these four fools he had not seen, "and myself, we were out on our own, and we ran into these fine ladies," Davos looked back, and saw that not only was the Rhoynish girl awake, but the ash haired girl as well, who was covering herself in shock at his arrival, "We, offered to shown them a fine night and they…they showed the same to us."

Davos reached out and batted his third son's left ear, eliciting a mild gasp as Mathos reached up and held the wounded lobe. He heard a snort, turned around, but was unable to tell if it had been Brus, Jonos, or one of the two awake girls. He growled at that, before turning back to his son, and saying, "Don't use flowery language boy. I know where you were born, and if you don't want to end up back there, you will speak to me straight," Mathos visibly paled, and at the back of Davos's mind, he knew that if he ever tried to cut the boy off Marya would smash his skull open with a soup ladle. Still, he needed the threat to keep the boy in line, "Now, tell me who their lady is."

"Tis the Merling Queen," the ash haired girl spoke up. Davos heard her stand up, and gave a quick look to see she had managed to place a tunic over her chest, "We are the mermaids of the Merling Queen," she continued, and Davos considered that for a moment."

The Merling Queen…one of the famous courtesans of Bravos. Not the Black Pearl, but a lovely beauty sung about in the ports and harbors along the Narrow Sea. A woman who had chosen the legends of the merfolk as her theme, she had become famous for choosing young maidens of exceptional beauty to be her "mermaids". It gave her barge a life that even the Black Pearl could not manage, as it seemed some flower had sprung up from the sea bed itself.

'Ah, I see now,' Davos looked about, and spotted discarded cloth of the size that matched the girls. There was a fine dress with a silver thread woven down the torso, to give the appearance of moving water. Then, there were two seashells placed on one of the tables at the side, except, with a bit more inspection, Davos could see they were carved bone or ivory or some such. Even, with a better look at the Rhoynish girl, Davos could see on her ears two small pink squids seeming to hang from the bottom of her ears. He then thought for a moment.

"YOU IDIOT'S SLEPT WITH THE MERLING QUEEN'S MERMAIDS!" At this point, Davos could see them all jump, "What were you all thinking!"

"They aren't whores," Jonos said.

"These are worse!" Davos then pointed at the Rhoynish girl, "You all didn't just get with a girl with ill repute. You got with girls of actual standing," he then looked the girl in the eye, a sudden foolishness now apparent, "Girl, I know the rules of how the Merling Queen handles her mermaids," he made a point to point out the door, "She wants maidens. What is going to happen to you all now that that no longer seems to be what you are?"

"Ser," she spoke up, hands in a conciliatory manner, "I can assure you. By noon today, we shall be as maidens again, as far as any man who can see," she then walked over, and pulled out a fine pale pink dress, that matched her darker skin in quite a lovely way, "Do not fear for us, the Merling Queen did not try and keep us from the coming here. She would not let us come here if she did not approve."

Davos grumbled to himself, "Well then girls," he said loud enough to finally fully wake the girl on Mathos's bed, "Please, see to it you all get back to your Lady. I think last night was quite enough fun for all of you."

"Yes," The Rhoynish girl's eyes seemed to hold on Davos's chest, and Davos could imagine she was doing her best to memorize his sigil, "We shall be out of here soon," she snapped her finger, "Tysa, get your dress on, and go wake Enni," the girl Davos could imagine was with Ser Whitehead, "Eranaua," the girl standing in the door way, doing her best to pull up a dress of sea green silk, "Finish getting ready, your Ivory shells are worth too much to be left behind," this Eranaua, likely from further east, nodded her head, and slipped over to the table, slipping her hair through something in the shells to hold them in place, "Ser, I shall be out of your hair soon."

Davos took in a deep breath, before sighing. He then glared over at his son, and pushed Mathos back into the room the girl had just exited. Once inside, he looked his mostly naked son up and down.

"So I hope you know you made me a fool."

"Father," Mathos said, "I didn't. Lord Bartheon said no whores. He said nothing about girls who came willingly, and-"

"I'm not angry about you being with a girl," Davos hissed, trying his best to keep his voice down, "I am furious because you let yourself be trapped by someone who is likely an agent of our enemies here."

"Enemies?"

"I told you that the Black Pearl is working with the pirates," Davos cut his son's question off, "She tried to bring Lord Baratheon to her bed," Mathos at least showed the good sense to not laugh at that image, "And they are attempting to influence us before we try and enforced the King's word."

"But, the girls are not with the Black Pearl," Mathos waved his hand out the door, "the Merling Queen is a rival of the Black Pearl, right? So why woul-"

"The Merling Queen is a courtesan," Davos spelled out, "Enough gold stolen from Lannister mines would be enough to pay her off to keep an eye on you, and see if she could not extract some kind of knowledge that might help Drake and her blasted fleet of thieves from victory in our meeting with the Sealord. I bet you," Davos looked Mathos in the eye, "You four were out drinking, showing off the coin and your sigils of the Stormlands," Mathos almost seemed to want to look away, but kept his head forward, "All it would take is for that pirate king to ask for a favor, and those four girls would be in your beds, doing whatever need be to give up some secret or other."

"But I did-"

"Maybe you didn't," Davos cut his son off once more, "Maybe your mouth was locked like a vault, and the wine and the girl was not enough to open it. But can you be sure that the other three held their tongues," Mathos's eyes twitched towards the door, before returning to Davos, "They may not even remember it," Davos felt the need to sit down, "By the Seven boy, what am I to say to Lord Stannis," Davos could only shake his head. This wasn't exactly disobeying Stannis's orders to avoid whores, but it was lustful enough to likely compare in the Storm Lord's mind to the vices of the king.

"Father," Mathos managed to add, "What could we give them? You and Lord Stannis have been keeping your plans for the meeting to yourselves."

"That's not the point," Davos shot back, "You and those boys acted foolishly. You betrayed the trust that Stannis placed in you," he then placed his hand to his chest, "The trust I placed in you."

"We never did anything you told us not to-"

"That's not the point," Davos said, "Mathos, son, you had your nineteenth name day last month," Davos remembered the celebration of their family and their rise. Davos, his wife, his seven sons sat at the same table as Lord Stannis Baratheon and his family, "You were given a gift when Stannis gave you Second of the Steffon's Call. Do you know what the Rogers or the Hastings or the Errols thought of that? They see a rat from Flea Bottom taking a post that by their blood should have gone to them. But Stannis trusted you because you are my son, and you showed with your actions how little his trust means."

"But the o-"

"Have not been given as much as you have," Davos added, "You are second to Andrew Estermont. If Jonos Storm makes a fool of himself, he's merely a sailor. You have been given responsibility, a chance to grow, and you are wasting it."

"I…I am sorry," Mathos looked down. Davos could only sigh. He should have asked for Allard to come instead. His second son had more experience, and that would have meant he would keep his nose clean. Davos couldn't imagine how he was going to explain this to Stannis.

"I know," Davos said, "When you get cleaned up, go down and pay off whatever damages you all did here to the innkeeper," perhaps if they moved quickly, they might be able to salvage this. Get these boys in, have it be a few rumors, then have Mathos come in on hand and knee to Stannis begging forgiveness. It would probably be enough for Mathos to not be cast from court, "We will be getting everyone back on the ship and staying the-"

"Wait," Mathos held a hand up, "Father, we will leave the room," Davos was glad he would not have to thwack his son another time, "But we are supposed to meet the Hound downstairs in about an hour."

"The Hound is here?" Davos blinked, the image of melted flesh barely hiding gnarled teeth springing to his mind, "Did Tywin Lannister send Clegane here to serve his interest," there was no need to guess it was not in the crown's interest, "Or-"
"No Father," Mathos said, and at the back of his voice there was a young boy's excitement, "The Hound of Winterfell. Ser Cu."

"Oh, Ser Onion."

Davos's foul mood had changed. It was no less bad, but it had become…more spread out, wider in its reach. Earlier this morning, all his anger could be focused on his son. He did not think he could offer more than passing condemnation of the other boys, after all, many did have greater fathers than Davos. But the sudden realization about what had been going on in the Outcast Inn the past two days had adjusted the image of what had been going on in Davos's head quite a bit.

And now quite a bit of his anger was now placed on the blue haired warrior currently looking down at him as Davos sat at this small table. Next to Davos sat Mathos, who seemed to be trying his best to slowly shrink from this place, but Davos wasn't about to let that happen. Davos wanted an introduction just in case Lord Stark's most loyal dog had forgotten him. Of course, that name showed he hadn't, though that only inflamed Davos's anger more.

"I would prefer Ser Seaworth," Davos said again, echoing what he had said some fifteen years prior in the hall of Storm's End. The red eyed man blinked, before snapping his finger, and pointing at Davos, nodding.

"Ah," he said, "I remember, you did ask me to do that," Cu shook his head, wincing slighty from the mighty welt that had seemed to close up his right eye, "Man, that wedding was so long ago, I had forgotten all the specifics of what happened there."

'Of course you would,' Davos seethed. The addition of the Wandering Hound made the whole thing make sense. Where before, Davos could only see pure arrogance on Mathos's part to disobey his orders, now he could see where Mathos had gotten this fire, 'You did seem so ready to grab Lady Lisa's breasts all those years ago,' Davos growled, 'Doubtless you have been making port in countless beds,' he then gave a quick glance back over to his son, who still seemed rather embarrassed by the whole thing, 'making young men with too little sense think there are things the can do without consequence.'

"Well, I suppose it has been many years," Davos calmed his voice, and simply decided to keep the conversation going as calmly as possible, "Much has changed over the years."

"Lot has changed," Davos could not help but wonder at what had happened to Cu's style of speech. Perhaps the time in the East had led to a laxity in the Hound of Winterfell's words, "But, the spirit of the Stormmen certainly hasn't," Cu reached over and patted Mathos on the back, who straighted at the contact, "Man, your boy downed like four tankards of mead yesterday," and then, it seemed like the boy was about to slip out of his chair, his mouth a twisting misery, "He wasn't about to let any of those other putzes out drink him, were you?"

'Later,' Davos thought to himself, putting another discussion of the need for temperance with Mathos off for after this whole mess was sorted, 'Later.'

"While I am sure that would be an…enthralling," that seemed to be the best term, "tale. But really," Davos wanted to keep the fool across from him wandering off without knowing where the talk was supposed to make port, "I must ask, why are you here Ser Cu?" the wolfish knight raised an eyebrow at Davos, "You have been out here in the east for so long, there were rumors that you may have met an untimely end," there hadn't really been any such rumors, but best to try and get the man talking.

"Well, people talk," Cu's expression did not change, cocksure though slight pain from his swollen eye, "Especially when they know anything about what they are speaking on," he then smirked, "But, well, from how your boys reacted, intelligence on me isn't very good. Every single one of them was surprised when they saw that I had a wife and son."

'Well yes,' Davos thought, 'No one thought you would have the honor to take a foreign woman you gave a child to.'

Davos didn't think most nobles would have taken some woman from the east as a bride even if she did come down with their child. Stannis and Eddard Stark would have, but they would never be in such a situation as they had wives. Davos…had himself, in the days before he had lost his finger tips, taken to a brothel or two. It was not something he was proud of now, but it had been the way of smugglers. To think that Cu would actually show such responsibility did not match the image in his head of the Hound.

'Though from how she was described,' the image of an inhumanly beautiful woman, with large plum eyes, hair as shiny and soft as silk, and a very comely figure, had been enough to at least make it seem less purely noble, and more of a man seeing a proper treasure in front of him and taking it. Hearing the description, and then looking at the girl that he'd found in Mathos's bed…well, it was another reason Davos could not at least heap some of the blame on the man for his son's folly, 'firing him hot with tales he has no business being in.'

"So where are your wife and son?" Davos asked.

"Oh," Cu almost instinctively reached up to rub his swollen eye, but his hand did not even make it level with his shoulder before he forced it down, "Well, last night my son and I had a bit of a row, and my wife took his side."

'Either his son struck him,' Davos thought, though more likely, 'Or his wife did.'

"Really?"

"My wife," Cu seemed to wince at the memory, and Davos was sure that it was she who had struck him, "Is a woman who knows what she thinks. And considering that last night was…well, it was my fault, she was not shy about letting me know it," he rubbed the back of his head, "But, she is handling it right now, so I'm sure that Colan will well soon."

Davos nodded. He then looked over at Mathos, who coughed into his hand, and then Davos nodded. Mathos nodded back, and then said, "Ser Cu," the Northman turned from Davos to his son, "When we were speaking yesterday, you spoke on why you and your wife were here in Braavos," Cu nodded slowly, "Well, as I was telling my father, you said you were part of a mummer's troupe now from the East, and that you might have valuable information to give to us now that we were here."

That had been why Davos had agreed to stay. Traveling Mummers troupes were a common occurrence in every part of the known world. From the Summer Islands to the isle of Ib, you could find mummers plying their trade, acting out stories of one origin or another. The groups tended to travel around, often seeking to increase their coin with new patrons.

They were also known for often actually being groups of spies. Now, not all of them, not even most of them. But more than once as a smuggler some of Davos's cargo had been groups of mummers fleeing from some port or another, some important secrets snuck out alongside them, or some important figure left with a knife in their back left behind them. It was a well known fact that mummers often did these jobs, but their services were in such high demand by many nobles and magisters that it was impossible for them to be locked out entirely.

Well, unless you are Stannis Baratheon, who had a strict no Mummers policy in Storm's End. 'Calls them whores,' Davos thought ruefully, 'and he said that he was worried that their farces might distress Patches.'

So, yes, if Cu had told Mathos that he was working as protection of a mummer's troupe, well, it was easy enough to guess that the Hound of Winterfell was not wandering as a free man, but rather doing some spying for someone. Who that was…well, that was easy enough to guess. Eddard Stark may have been absent from King's Landing, but he was a powerful lord, and he had just as many interests across the sea as the Baratheons.

"What sort of information?" there was a hint of a smirk on Cu's face, and Davos was glad to see it.

"Anything you might give us," Davos leaned forward, "Surely Mathos has told you why Lord Stannis has been sent to meet with the Sealord," Cu gave a short nod, "For the good of the realm then, is there anything you might be able to give us for our negotiations," Cu leaned backward, rubbing his chin as he did so. Davos felt a thread of pique, but continued to ask, "Anything that might allow us to make our case, and save our countrymen from this piracy?"

"Well," Cu leaned back, "Well," Cu smiled, "I personally have no idea about any specific information. I'm just a wandering sellsword after all, and we are known for strong backs above strong minds," he smirked, clearly enjoying pulling both Davos and his son along. Davos could almost imagine this as being the official story that Cu and Eddard Stark had agreed on way back at the end of Robert's Rebellion, "But, well, the master of the troupe might be able to tell you of some thing's he's observed during our travels. He has to, considering the circles he's moved in."

"The Master of the Troupe," it was an unusual name, and certainly one that gave Davos unease, but he could accept it. Likely some kind of leftover of the Valyrian language.

"Yes," Cu smirked, "he's become very interested in your troubles," Cu's eyes then twitched upward, "Isn't that right, Ritsuka?"

"It certainly is," the voice was younger than Davos expected. Before he could turn around, a young man walked around his side, a woman in a long black cloak revealing only ash gray hands gliding up behind him. He was, well, colorfully dressed. Dressed in a colorful motley, a strange C on the right side of his chest with greenish vines twisting around it, Davos was surprised he had not seen him. There was a confidence in his gaze, as he took his seat without any need to look away, "Cu has always been speaking about his life in Westeros, and managing to run into all of you might be a bit of good luck on both our parts."

Davos watched the younger man carefully. Davos certainly hadn't imaged a boy younger than Mathos being the one in charge of the troupe, and yet Cu had bowed to the boy without any hint of irony or disagreement. Davos gave a quick look at Mathos, and saw that his son seemed just as confused as he was. Still, he wasn't about to turn down this help, even if the form seemed at the moment slightly worrying.

"Why would you be interested in helping us?" Davos asked.

"The pirates that are harassing your merchants, are…well, they are an obstacle that I want dealt with," Ritsuka developed a frown, and Davos raised an eyebrow at that, "A personal issue has come up, and as far as I'm concerned, the best way to have that problem fixed, is to make it so piracy is no longer so lucrative that Braavos gives Drake and her fleet sanctuary in it's harbor."

'At least he is not offering support out of the good of his heart,' Davos nodded along as Ritsuka spoke, 'He has interests that align with our own, and that is far easier to trust.'

"Then we should hope what you are able to offer will be enough to dissuade the Sealord from all this piracy then," Davos said, "So, tell me young man," there was a slight fidget in Ritsuka's body, "What sort of information do you have?"

"Well," Ritsuka smiled, "Quite a few things actually," he raised a finger to the sky, "First, if I have this correct, the Dynasty of your King is actually pretty new, right," Davos blinked, "Only about fifteen or so years since it was established?"

"Yes."

"And despite your best efforts. There were issues with tying up loose ends of the previous dynasty?" at Davos's nod, Ritsuka smiled, "Well, good news then, we can tell you that Viserys Targaryen is dead."

Davos felt a slight relief at those words. The rumor had been going around the crew ever since they had made landfall in Braavos. That while they had been sailing across the Narrow Sea, the Manse that Viserys Targaryen had been staying at had been caught in an inferno. The rumor had been that two different groups of the Dothraki had come into conflict there and burnt down the home of Illyrio Mopatis. Though really, those had mostly been rumors, and certainly, there was no proof that one of the great thorns in Robert Baratheon's side had been removed. Davos gave a look over at Cu, who gave a nod.

"I can tell you, the worm died there."

That was good news, and even slightly helpful in the negotiations. For though it had been a long time since Viserys Targaryen had called Braavos his home, he had been staying in Pentos, which remained under control of the Sealord. While it was not directly on the table, there was always the threat that the Sealord might be able to call up Viserys and offer to finance a campaign to restore the Targaryens to the throne. It wasn't likely, but it was something the Sealord would keep in his back pocket, and knowing that that was no longer a possibility would at least lower the worries of Stannis a little.

"I am certain that Lord Stannis will be glad to know this," Davos admitted, "But, while that is something that shall allow my king to sleep better at night, it is not something alone that would be what we need for these negotiations."

"Secondly," Ritsuka continued, raising another finger into the air. Davos felt he was being ignored, but allowed the strange boy to continue, "I know that the pirates are already in the process of breaking their truce," he tapped his fingers on the table, and continued, "I was there yesterday, and there was an auction going on for which pirate gets what route to hunt. I wouldn't be surprised if some of those ships leave within the next few days."

"Damn," Davos wasn't surprised, and he doubted Stannis would be either. The "truce" as it were, had been one of the agreed to terms for this meeting to even occur. The pirates had finished up a natural season of terrorizing the merchants and sailors of Westeros, so it had not been a great ask that they do no raids while the talks were happening. But that the raiding would start up again soon could be disastrous, "Even if it is the Braavosi that are breaking the truce, our ships being taken would undermine our strengths at the table," not to mention how it would likely lead to a further falling out of Robert's support for Stannis. He could imagine Robert, so enraged by his brother "Failing again" that he would recall Stannis and try something more drastic.

"Father," Mathos said, "Lord Baratheon should send out Ravens now," the seriousness on the young man's face almost reminded Davos of their lord, "We can alert to them that the pirates are not honoring the truce, and perhaps that will at least buy us some time."

"Yes," Davos rubbed his chin, "If nothing else, it shall at least make it clear that this is a case of Braavosi treachery," Davos looked at the young man across from him, "Thank you for telling us this," it was a surprise that they would be able to play against now, so, this meeting had proved to be at least worth the time, "I must get to Stannis now, so thank you bot-"

Ritsuka raised his hand in the air, and Davos kept from pushing himself off the chair, "I think I may have something that is even more," the boy stopped, looking up at the ceiling, before smirking, and then continued, "clarifying to your situation, and why Braavos is acting the way that it is."

Davos gave a quick glance to his son, before looking back at Ritsuka, "What is it you want in return then?"

Ritsuka smiled at that, as did Cu. Ritsuka then pushed his chair back, and began to walk past the old smuggler toward the front desk, "Well, it's good to know that you understand that this is not free information. This bit of information might be enough to force the Sealord to begin to accept the terms of your king, so if you are going to get it, you are going to get it on my terms."

Davos watched the boy carefully as he walked up to the table with the innkeeper sitting in front of him. The young man said something to the older man, who held out his hand with the palm flat to the sky. Ritsuka smiled, and then pulled out a bronze coin, and placed it in the man's hand. The innkeeper raised the coin up, looking at it closely, before nodding, and reaching behind the desk. A moment later, the innkeeper was back above the table, and handed Ritsuka a fire log. Ritsuka bowed his head to the man, and turned back to Davos. He then, holding the piece of firewood out in front of him, walked to the table, and sat the short piece of wood on table, a few twigs of it falling from its side.

"This," he pointed at the log, "Is the key, to unlocking the chain of piracy around your ports."

"It makes me," Stannis was rubbing his fingers again, but Davos could here anticipation rather than anger in his voice, "...uneasy to be relying on this as our great weapon in the battle which I am about to engage."

Davos could understand. Upon first hearing Ritsuka's declaration of why the hunk of firewood would be their salvation, Davos had nearly rejected the line of thought out of hand. Yet, the more the boy had spoken on it, the more it had made sense.

That, obviously, was not enough to go on. And considering the scale of it all if Ritsuka was right, Davos couldn't just go and ask. Instead, he and Cu had gone out, and spent the rest of the day wandering through Ragman's harbor and the nearby winesinks, inns and brothels. What they found seemed to support the point, and before long, Davos had come to question why he had never thought of it before. It had taken over a dozen conversations with former dockworkers and sailors, each requiring a level of Deftness that reminded Davos of his time as a smuggler.

Still, by the end, Davos believed in what Ritsuka had termed the "Secret of the Arsenal". And with a quick agreement, he returned to meet with Stannis Baratheon. Stannis had at first thought the whole thing absurd, but soon, the lord of Storm's End had come around to the idea that this was likely their best hope.

"There is nothing to be done," Davos said, doing his best to stay out of the way as Devan finished adorning his lord for the meeting. Davos would not be going, the incident at the Palace was too much a scandal for even Stannis to get him back inside there, but he could be sure that with Devan there, Stannis would at least have someone he was familiar with, "We have nothing else, and even with the Ravens we sent out, your meeting tonight might be the only way to save many of our sailors' lives."

Stannis's frown grew, before shaking his head.

"Then," Stannis turned to his side, and looked in the mirror that Lady Lysa had insisted he bring along to ensure he had a "Royal Visage", "I shall see that I do the utmost as a prince of the blood to protect those under our charge."

In a moment, Stannis led the way. He was dressed in the same black and gold of the night of the party, and this time, he was matched by Devan, who did his best to match the gait of his lord. Around them, Steffon's Call's deck was a storm of action, as men were doing their best to ready the ship should it be needed to leave Braavos swiftly.

'The activity seems to have made them all worthy again,' Davos thought, 'I shall have to bring up the last few nights…but, it might be best to wait until all this is finished. Better to let Stannis focus on what is in front of him now,' he then sighed, as he saw Stannis stop at the edge of the plank down, and stare at who Davos knew was waiting for them.

"So you are ready then?" the voice of the Hound of Winterfell said aloud. Davos looked over, and saw both Cu and Ritsuka standing at attention, both looking up directly at Stannis. Ritsuka had changed out his colorful motley for a more more subdued black tunic, which Davos would be sure that Stannis might have appreciated…had Cu not been wearing a set of leather armor with the bloody image of dogs pulling apart a large bull.

"Ser Cu," Stannis acknowledged, maintaining his royal standing. Ritsuka, seeming to get the manner, bowed his head as was proper. Cu remained standing tall, resting a long, vicious red spear on his back.

'He will certainly cut a figure when walking in to the Sealord's palace,' Davos thought, 'Hopefully the word has come out that the spear is "Died red with the blood of dragons".'

Davos knew that the troupe had some kind of grudge against the pirates, which was why Ritsuka had asked that the largest payment for the information he had provided be that he be allowed to accompany Stannis to meet the Sealord. He was bringing Cu both for protection, and for the threat of the man who most of the city had learned had killed the last Targaryen Prince.

"Well," Stannis turned back, giving Davos one final look of resignation, "Next time you see me Davos, we shall either be on the way to peace, or I will be a failure once again."

"You shall do all you can," Davos offered, and Stannis, letting out a sigh, descended the plank, and towards his negotiations with the Sealord.