Leroya
There was virtually no snow left on the ground, wherever Leroya looked, but it was still cold enough that she wore her winter garb.
Behind her strode Malthar, Joloxha, Bejjo, Qahar, Kinjja, and Xhory. All of them were archers on board the Black Bolt, but none of them had brought their bows on this venture.
The city streets of King's Landing were too narrow and crowded for arrows. Instead, all were armed with broad-bladed hatchets and short swords which were ideal for stabbing in close quarters. Even Leroya had been prevailed upon to leave Doom behind on the ship.
They were one of four groups combing the city in search of their missing crewmember. Baalun, Xalonyay, and Lwandle were all leading their own groups, each covering a different part of King's Landing. The rest of the crew remained on the Black Bolt, selling off the goods which they'd acquired in the Scatterlings.
They had made their way down the Hook, visiting any establishment which would have them, speaking to any who would answer their questions. It had all been in vain; nobody had taken note of two women exploring the city, even if one of them were a dark-skinned Summer Islander. It didn't help that most were unwilling to speak with Leroya and the others, and they lacked any authority to compel their cooperation.
By the time that they'd reached the Muddy Way and followed it to Fishmonger's Square, Leroya was fuming with frustration. Still, she was determined to find Nosipho; she never liked losing crewmembers, but it was one thing for one of them to fall in battle with pirates or to lose their life in a terrible gale, or to succumb to a disease in a foreign port. This was different; escorting Amabel had not been considered a difficult task, or a risky one. Nosipho's disappearance was a cause for alarm, especially where Tidir was concerned.
She and her crew weren't the only ones on the hunt. As they were still making their way down the Hook, a loud voice called after them.
"Oi! You lot! Summer Islanders!"
Leroya and the others turned to face the approaching goldcloaks. Their leader was a squat man of stocky build, whose face might have been handsome if it weren't for the ugly scowl which seemed to be stamped across it.
"We're looking for someone," the captain declared as his narrow eyes scanned each of them in rapid succession. "He's past forty years of age, with orange-red hair, pale skin, and green eyes. Goes by the name 'Lyman'."
Leroya was suddenly reminded of the story which she'd heard Matthias and Miru tell their father about a certain maester called Lyman. Is this that same man, then? "What did he do?"
"You never mind," growled the goldcloak captain. "He knows what he did, and so do we!"
Leroya's lip curled at this arrogant brusqueness, even as Qahar spoke up in a curious tone. "What's the reward, then?"
"Fifty gold dragons for any word of him. A hundred for his head, whether it's attached to his body or not." With that, he and his troops marched up the Hook, towards the Red Keep. Leroya put them out of her mind as she returned to her own task.
Fishmonger's Square was even denser than the Hook, with even fewer folk that were willing to entertain their inquiries. Many expected a promise of coin - even demanded it - which would have surely drained all their purses for lies and false hope. Still, Leroya was not about to call off her search.
"We'll go up and down River Row," Leroya ordered. "Mayhaps someone saw them there."
"Methinks that is unlikely," Qahar mused. "'Tis a holy day, is it not? Amabel would want to go pray." He gestured vaguely at the Great Sept of Baelor, which loomed up to the west.
"Then it won't be long before Baalun and Tidir bump into her," Leroya answered. They and the rest of their group had been assigned to seek out Nosipho and Amabel at the Great Sept, as well as the rest of Visenya's Hill. "Until then, we press on. But you're more than welcome to go wait on the ship if you prefer."
"Aye, Captain," Qahar muttered, but that was all he said, and he did not part ways with them. He was not fool enough to take Leroya up on her offer.
She turned to Bejjo now. "You will take Kinjja and Joloxha northward. I'll go south. We'll meet back in this square." By then, she reckoned, the sun would very well have gone down, and most folk would be gone to supper.
Her prediction was not a bad one, for the River Row proved a slower journey than the Hook had been. Leroya had hoped that Fishmonger's Square might absorb the lion's share of commerce, but the stalls continued along the street. Moreover, inns were full of King's Landing smallfolk, visitors from other parts of Westeros, and foreigners spilling in from the docks.
Not for the first time did she curse the size of this stinking city. Even with four different groups searching it, there were so many places for people to vanish without a trace. She had heard the stories of hapless folk stumbling into trouble and ending up in a bowl of brown in the pot shops of Flea Bottom. Leroya had been tempted to lead her group into that part of King's Landing, until Lwandle had persuaded her to let him go in her stead. Even Leroya could admit that Lwandle would be better suited to navigating that dangerous district than she.
"How can we trust anyone?" Xhory questioned after the umpteenth person denied seeing Nosipho or Amabel.
Malthar, named for the Mapmaker of old, gave his fellow archer an incredulous look. "You think these fishmongers are all conspiring against us?"
"Not all," Xhory explained. "But maybe just one? How will we know otherwise?"
"What else can we do?" Leroya snapped impatiently. "We have no right to interrogate anyone. They'll have us arrested by that lot." She jerked her head towards several men of the City Watch that lounged around an alleyway entrance. From the corner of her eye, Leroya noticed how hungrily two of them were glancing at her, but paid them no heed.
Qahar glanced about, his teak-coloured brow creased in thought. "No one in this city can be trusted, according to your father. Especially not those goldcloaks."
"That makes no difference," Leroya answered. "I'll not abandon my search for Nosipho. One way or another, we will find her." She did not have the heart to add 'alive or dead' at the end of her sentence.
It proved a fruitless quest. By the time they had reunited with Bejjo and the others, the sun was gone. Leroya bade them go back to the ship and wait for the others to return. "I'll rejoin you soon," she told them. "First I need to see about my family."
When Leroya finally marched back into the Red Keep, the Great Hall had been cleared of supper. After a long afternoon and evening, her stomach was growling loud enough that she swore others could hear it. Hoping that her family might have saved her some food, Leroya went to Maegor's Holdfast.
Even as she approached her father's chambers, Leroya could hear heated voices from within. They stopped immediately when Leroya knocked upon the door.
After a moment, the door swung up, and Leroya found herself looking at her father's face. It was taut and grim, which prompted her to nearly take a step backward. "Papa?"
"I'm sorry, Roya," he murmured, "but this is a bad time."
"What's going on?" Leroya was still surprised at her father's state, but his words had inflamed her spirit. She couldn't recall the last time that she was sent away from a discussion.
"By all means, let her in," came an irritated voice from within. Leroya recognised it as Sadog's. "The more the bloody merrier!"
Leroya did not wait for Papa to let her in or refuse her a second time. She pushed the door open even further so she could comfortably walk past her father.
When she entered the room, she saw Miru standing by the balcony doors, her expression wavering somewhere between distress and outrage. On the other side of the room, Sadog leaned on his ornate cane, back against the wall, with a baleful countenance. Matthias was seated on a couch close to Miru, looking thoroughly wretched.
"What the bloody hell is happening?" Leroya exclaimed, looking from her older siblings to her father. It had been a very long time since they had spoken so harshly to one another.
"Go on, then," Sadog told Miru. "Go ahead and tell her about Amabel!"
Miru's eyes flicked towards Leroya, who saw that there was a twinge of guilt upon her face.
"Amabel came to see me," Miru admitted curtly. "She revealed that she knew things about me that she couldn't possibly have known. Then she tried to… seduce me." She visibly shuddered from the effort of saying those words.
Leroya was surprised by this revelation. She understood why her sister was so upset; it had taken a lot for her to love someone else, and be loved in turn. She would never risk such a love by dallying with someone else. Still, despite Miru's distress, Leroya couldn't help but ask more questions. "When was this?"
"Before you came back to King's Landing," Miru replied tersely.
Leroya frowned. "Did she make any mention of Nosipho?"
"All she said was that Nosipho had left an hour before, supposedly to find Tidir."
Leroya was stung. "You could have told me about this a long time ago. It might have been useful for us to know that. Mayhaps we could have spoken to Amabel ourselves!"
"Is that really what draws your ire?" Matthias interjected bitterly.
Leroya rounded on him. "One of my crewmembers is missing! She might very well be dead! All because this Amabel needed an escort into the city!" By the time she'd finished, she was glaring at Sadog instead of Matthias.
Despite his astonishment, Sadog was quick to answer fire with fire of his own. "If Nosipho had been shadowing me instead of Amabel, would you blame me still? Would you blame our father?" He gestured to Papa, who was gazing upon the scene with dismay.
"Leave him out of this," Miru interjected. Anger had returned to her voice. "Did you tell Amabel about Brodda Hill?"
The anger left Sadog's face immediately, replaced by alarm. "I did not such thing! Why would I ever do that?"
"You, then?"
It took Leroya a moment to realise that Miru was addressing her. "What sort of question is that to ask me?"
"Amabel told me that she lay with you," Miru explained. "She also hinted about my past with Brodda Hill. If she didn't hear it from Sadog, who then?"
"Wait! You and Amabel?"
Leroya made a scornful noise at this rankled question by Sadog. "By all that is good, brother, do not try to act jealous! You don't love her!"
"Must I still share her with you, then?" Sadog's indignation quickly escalated to outrage. "Gods be bloody damned, is it too much to ask that I do not dally with incest?"
Laughter burst from Leroya's mouth as she took in his words. "Incest?" Much to her shock, someone else came to Sadog's defence.
"You know full well what he means," Miru interrupted, glaring at Leroya. "Must you always follow your whims in every single direction?"
Leroya was so flabbergasted and roiled by this turning against her that she could muster no words in response. Luckily, Papa chose that moment to speak instead.
"Mind yourselves, all of you." His voice was strained with emotion as he looked at each of his assembled children one by one. "This is no way to speak to each other!"
First, he addressed Miru. "I know what you endured, but Leroya is your sister! She would never betray you in such a vile way!" He turned to Sadog and Leroya, addressing them both with his words. "You two know better, and you're both grown. You should be able to speak civilly to each other before things get out of hand." He focused on Leroya. "All the same, feelings have been hurt on your part."
Leroya was too incensed to be lectured like this. "And what of my feelings?" She gestured towards Miru. "What of her accusation against me? She tries to shame me whilst throwing empty accusations? Why would I speak of Brodda Hill to anyone? I wasn't even born when all that happened!" Before Papa could reply, Leroya was struck with inspiration. She turned to Miru. "What of Cayn? Mayhaps he told Amabel! He's been Bloodraven's man for all these years, has he not?"
Miru shook her head. "I know it wasn't him."
"Oh?" Leroya folded her arms. "How are you so sure?"
Behind Leroya, Sadog began to chuckle dryly. "Here we go," he observed. "Now you can finally catch up with the rest of us."
"What are you talking about?"
Sadog pointed at Miru and Papa. "They struck a bargain with Bloodraven. He will grant Aenys the chance to speak his peace."
Leroya felt a pit forming in her stomach. "In exchange for what?"
"In exchange for him saving face," Miru answered. "This way, he won't have to face a vote on the morrow, and he can act as though Aenys arrived with his permission."
Leroya stared at her older sister. "Are you mad?"
"There's no need to speak like that, Roya," Papa interjected. "Your sister is no fool, and Cayn was sincere. Safe passage has been promised, on the word of the Iron Throne. The royal seal was applied twice ere we sent it off."
"Sent it off?" Leroya frowned. "It's all done, then?"
"Aye," Papa affirmed, and he allowed himself a small, encouraging smile. "Aenys should be here sometime tomorrow."
It was a triumph, to be sure, and yet Leroya couldn't feel jubilant about it. "When was this arranged?"
"Only today," Papa answered. Sensing her mood, his countenance went from contentment to concern. "It was done with great haste, before supper fully began."
"And who did you speak to about this?"
"What does it matter?" Sadog asked.
"Stay out of this," Leroya snapped. "Go find Amabel!"
"Roya…" Papa began to protest, but after the long day she'd had, all she wanted was the answer to her question. She cut him off and spoke louder. "Tell me, Papa!"
Papa sighed. "Cayn approached Miru with his proposition, and she sought me out. Matthias and Sadog happened to be with me at the time, so they were also present."
"And you didn't think to find me?" Leroya demanded. "I was still in the Red Keep!"
"We didn't know that," Miru explained. "And besides, Aenys will receive the scroll tonight, with a bit of luck."
They sent it out already. They kept me and Baalun out of it. "So that's the way of it," Leroya growled. "There's gratitude for me, I guess. If it wasn't for my efforts, you lot wouldn't have even heard of Aenys Blackfyre!" She glared at her father. "I brought you to the Scatterlings! I saw his worth! But I'm not fit for counsel on this matter?"
"In the name of the gods," Sadog exclaimed. "What are you trying to accomplish with this outburst?"
"Shut your gob!" Leroya turned to her elder brother. "I already told you to go seek out Amabel! My crew's been running after her all fucking day, trying to solve your own problem for once!"
"That's enough," Miru objected, but that only drew Leroya's ire upon her.
"And you! You only tell me now that you saw Amabel? You had knowledge of Nosipho this entire time? And you kept it to yourself while we run ourselves ragged in this bloody city?"
"That's not fair," Miru protested, but Matthias suddenly sprang up from his seat. "Leave her be, Roya!"
"Oh, don't you start with me." Leroya pointed a finger at Matthias. "I helped give you the chance of a lifetime! Did you even thank me for it? No, nothing from any of you!" She glared at her dumbfounded kin, even as her voice rose to a shout. "My crew and I have been your servants ever since we set out! And now Nosipho is missing because of you! But meanwhile, you're all too busy making deals with fucking Bloodraven of all men? But now, Baalun and I aren't considered essential for that sort of thing?"
"Really?" Sadog gaped in astonishment. "You think Baalun is going to give sage advice on this matter?"
"Fuck you!" Leroya screamed. "You've done nothing but look down your nose at every one of us! Well, here's the truth you're so afraid to hear. We're all just as clever as you, but the only difference is we don't lean on our brains so desperately like it's just another cane!"
Sadog was too stunned to reply. Papa wasn't.
"How dare you speak to your brother like that!"
She turned to face her father, whose expression could only be called wroth. For the first time, Leroya realised that she'd gone too far, but she was still too angry to acknowledge it.
"I'm going to my ship," she declared. "And I'll wait for Aenys on the morrow. The rest of you can stay up here in this big castle and have a good laugh together. That's what this was always meant to be, wasn't it? A nice return home for the four of you? You said it yourselves in Braavos!"
And with that, she turned about and stormed out of the room, ignoring Papa's calls and trying to forget the last look she'd seen on Sadog's face.
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Leroya woke up with a groan, followed by a louder one when she turned around and felt the glare of sunlight on her eyes.
"Good morning," Xalonyay observed.
She was still naked as Leroya, sitting at the small table in the captain's cabin and eating from a wooden bowl.
"What is the hour?" Leroya groaned.
"Quite some time after sunrise," Xalonyay answered laconically.
Leroya clapped a hand to her head, groaning as she felt it throbbing beneath her touch. "How long have you been up?"
"Only an hour or so."
Leroya grimaced, then sat upright in her bed as she overcame her drowsiness. "Have they found Nosipho?"
"Not yet. And no sign of Aenys either, for that matter."
"Of course not," Leroya grumbled. "You wouldn't still be sitting here if he'd come. You'd be too busy making him come a second time."
A grin flashed across Xalonyay's face, but it was short-lived. Leroya didn't blame her; the air between them felt subdued, for reasons unrelated to her headache.
After her confrontation with the rest of the family, Leroya had reunited with her crew on the Black Bolt. There had still been no sign of Nosipho or Amabel, but the crew saw little good in continuing the search at night. Thus, Leroya had decided everyone should rest, even as she had stayed awake in her cabin, drinking rum with Baalun and Xalonyay, regaling them with her account of what had transpired in Maegor's Holdfast.
Neither Baalun nor Xalonyay had been pleased with what she had to say, but they had said very little in reply. Leroya had tried to press Baalun on what he felt, but her brother had kept his opinions to himself, preferring to turn in early. Thus, Leroya and Xalonyay had spent the rest of the evening together, until they'd collapsed in each other's arms.
With a groan, Leroya pulled herself out of bed and stumbled to the cabin's small window. She took in a deep breath of fresh air as she leaned on her elbows.
"Have something to eat," Xalonyay urged. "Kajjeen found meat and bread. Just the thing you need to cure that ache. Porridge too, if you can stomach it. Drink some tea too." She indicated a cup on the small table which was still steaming.
Leroya sighed as she slumped down in the chair beside Xalonyay and began to eat.
"Did Papa visit the ship while I was asleep?" Leroya asked softly between bites of bacon.
Xalonyay gave a shrug. "Not that I heard or saw."
Leroya sighed. "Nobody else, then?"
"No," Xalonyay confirmed.
"Probably for the best." Leroya mumbled. She was not ready to face any of her family after what she'd said, but nor was she ready to admit that she was solely at fault.
Xalonyay tilted her head. "You shouldn't talk like that."
"Spare me," Leroya pleaded. "I don't need to hear this right now."
"I think you do," Xalonyay answered. "You can't stay in here all day. Nor can you ignore the others forever."
"I have more important tasks," Leroya answered. "Once Aenys arrives, I'll send him on his way and then I'll go seek out Nosipho."
Xalonyay inclined her head. "You were always a good captain, Roya."
Leroya smiled at the compliment, but that good cheer did not last long. "A good captain. That's all I seem to be in their eyes. A good captain, but too reckless, too hot-headed, too stubborn, too..." She did not wish to go on. Instead, she turned and spat furiously.
"Tch, tch." Xalonyay clucked her tongue whilst shaking her head. "What good is it to spit on your own floor?" She gestured to the rest of their breakfast. "Come now, have some more to eat."
Leroya was not of a mind to placidly obey these orders, but she knew that bickering with Xalonyay was no solution to the turmoil in her mind. Thus, she tore off a chunk of bread, wiped it in bacon grease, and popped it into her mouth.
"You need not prove your worth to us, Roya," Xalonyay continued in that soothing tone. "We all know your worth, your family most of all. Why else would your father give you that sword?" She nodded towards Doom, hanging on the wall in its usual place.
The food turned was turning to ash in Leroya's mouth as she glanced up at the sword. She'd been so proud to receive it, just as she'd been ecstatic when she was given command of her own ship. "Who else would have taken that sword?" She glanced at Xalonyay, ignoring her incredulous look. "Belakka? Chatali? Sadog? And don't say Baalun," she added when Xalonyay opened her mouth. "I was the only one who ever wanted that sword apart from Baalun. Mayhaps Papa would have given it to him if he was older."
"Roya," Xalonyay exclaimed. "You know better than that."
It was as if her shame were a snake, slowly coiling round her ankles, slithering up her legs, reaching her head as its hiss sent jolts through her body. A low moan left Leroya as she held her head in her hands. "Fucking hell... what have I done?"
"Nothing you can't undo," Xalonyay reassured her. "Words are wind, as they say here."
Leroya was unsure of what to say to that, but before she could make up her mind, there was a pounding on the cabin door.
"Stop that racket," Leroya thundered as she arose and stomped toward the door. "What is it?"
"Sail on the horizon," came the muffled shout. Leroya recognised it as belonging to Malthar. "It's a Tyroshi one, with a black dragon flying on top!"