Chapter 12: 'I cannot save them...' Part I
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POV Oberyn Martell;
Year 283; 9th day of the fourth moon;
3 weeks after the Battle of the Bells....
Dorne, Sunspear;
Oberyn was waiting impatiently for this famous 'mystery package' to arrive.
He sat next to his brother Doran. Both had not been able to sleep well for weeks. After the defeat of Jon Connigton (Former Hand of the King), Aerys had practically threatened Dorne to send reinforcements to face the rebels. Several times Doran had tried to convince the King to send their sister Elia and nephews to Sunspear, but he had always refused. He didn't want to lose valuable hostages that guaranteed Dorne's loyalty to the Targaryen cause. After a year's absence from the alleged kidnapping of Lyanna Stark, Rhaegar Targaryen reappeared to the world and took up the task of leading the loyalists' defences against the rebels.
The prince was currently leading along with Lewis Martell (their uncle, a member of the royal guard) 10,000 Dornish men to join the remaining loyalist forces (about 30,000 Targaryens, Tyrells and various lesser lords).
A week after the army left, a messenger arrived. A eunuch, a mute one at that, hired by Essos to personally deliver a message and a key to Prince Doran Martell.
The eunuch had been escorted by a small mercenary company from Essos known to Oberyn for their particular services. They were called 'The Heralds'.
They would only accept delivery assignments. They would die to guarantee security, the content of the item to be delivered and the anonymity of the sender or the receiver. Twenty men from that company would escort the messenger.
On the letter was written: "Prince Doran, if you are reading this message, a second emissary will arrive with a 'special casket' within a week at the latest. The key you are now holding is the only object that can open the chest without activating the security mechanism that will release, if forced or shaken, a corrosive substance that will permanently damage the contents. The 'gifts' in it are for his eyes only and those of his brother Oberyn. No harmful traps are present inside, but I understand you want to make sure. Try to control the security of the package and try not to damage it. I must inform you that it is impossible to obtain any information about the origin of the packages through the emissaries.
I assure you that these precautions are absolutely necessary.
I wish you and your family all the best".
The sender was anonymous.
Obviously the Princes while wanting to follow the advice of the letter had taken the proper precautions.
A loyal Martell guard would open the box with both Princes at a safe distance. Afterwards Oberyn would check for poisons. He also had a personal kit of antidotes ready for every eventuality. The maester in their service did not possess half of Oberyn's knowledge and experience in dealing with poisons. He was not called "The Red Viper" for no reason.
Four days after the first delivery came the second.
A relay had already announced, a few minutes ago, that a second emissary with an identical escort had reached the city gates and demanded an audience.
A short time later, in a private room of Prince Doran's...
Two guards from the prince's escort opened the doors and two unarmed men entered, carefully carrying a medium-sized chest.
"You may leave it on that small table in the centre of the hall, thank you for your services." Oberyn said, staring at the two Essos men.
The mercenaries did as instructed, placing the chest carefully on a sturdy wooden table placed about 30 feet from the Princes. Immediately afterwards they bowed politely and left the room after receiving a nod of approval. The doors were closed again, only 3 people were present in the hall: Oberyn, Doran and Nimos, one of Prince Doran's personal guards.
Nimos approached, at a slow but sure pace, towards the chest with a key of the highest quality in his hand. He inserted the key into the lock, a couple of 'clicks' and small sounds of gears being unlocked broke the silence in the room. The guard opened the lid and quickly scanned the contents.
"Well?" Oberyn asked, already dismissing the possibility of darts and types of poisons drifting through the air.
"Two sealed scrolls, about a couple of dozen identical vials, some sort of needle and the top of the lid is covered with five glass spheres with a clear liquid inside my Prince." Nimos.
"Thank you Nimos, you can go now. My brother will take care of it from here on." Said Doran. The guard bowed and left the room, sealing the doors once more.
Oberyn approached the chest, wearing a pair of unique basilisk leather gloves and a small shoulder bag.
He grabbed each item scrutinising it from several angles for a few minutes.
"The contents seem safe brother, but I have no idea what kind of substance these little vials contain. The two documents on the surface look like another message and a map." Said Oberyn, his curiosity level was through the roof.
"Bring me the two documents please." Oberyn set about the task with celerity.
Doran began by grabbing the message. He broke the wax seal (without symbols) and began to read. The document was at least two feet long. The more seconds passed, the more sombre Doran's expression became. He was concentrating as hard as he could on reading. He read the document twice to make sure he understood everything. Then Doran rested a hand on his forehead, massaging his temples to try and calm his thoughts.
"What does it say? I've never seen you react like this before brother." Anxiety was beginning to creep into Oberyn's mind.
"I can tell you that if what the message says is true, the methods of conveying it are more than justified. Read it and tell me what you think." Doran handed the parchment to his brother who immediately grabbed it, and while Oberyn was reading he prepared to scan the second document.
The contents of the letter were:
"Princes of Dorne, I offer you my greetings.
Unfortunately, I cannot yet introduce myself, as I do not yet possess the means to face or endure the grave consequences that could befall me or those I care about should such information about the contents or the sender come to light.
I fully understand that you may doubt or distrust what I am about to say. It is your choice whether or not to believe me.
I possess an ability... an ability that allows me to know future events. This 'gift' is not under my full control, I cannot choose what I will see, but what I have seen involves events that will bring House Martell into an inevitable cycle of suffering and hatred.
I have had other visions in the past, and it saddens me to report that they have all come true, but it is not impossible to prevent certain events from happening.
This year Rhaegar will fall on the battlefield and the rebel forces will prevail over the Targaryens...this, as far as I know, is an almost certain and unchangeable event.
The event that may yet be changed is the fate of Princess Elia Martell and her children Rhaenys and Aegon..."
Oberyn, at this point in the letter, paused to catch his breath and try to remain calm so as not to tear up the document.
He resumed reading a few seconds later....
"As soon as the rebel forces prevail in the final battle, Tywin Lannister will attack King's Landing with his army. The city will fall...
I saw-- and I apologize in advance for the brutality of this--
a Lannister knight stab the body of poor little Rhaenys Targaryen over and over.
A giant man, in black plate armour with the symbol of House Clegane, throwing an infant, ripped from its mother's arms, against a wall, killing it...
And the poor woman with Dornish features, whom I presume to be Princess Elia...being brutally disfigured and killed in ways my hand does not have the strength to describe..."
"NO!!! LIES!!! THEY WOULDN'T DARE!! THEY CAN'T DO THAT!! IF THIS IS A JOKE I SWEAR BY ALL THE KNOWN GODS THAT I WILL FIND THE SENDER OF THIS LETTER AND KILL HIM WITH MY OWN HANDS!!!" Screamed Oberyn dropping the letter on the floor. He clenched his fists with such force that both hands were bleeding.
Doran stared grimly at his brother's already foreseen scene. He already knew at what point in the letter he had interrupted himself....
"Keep calm and keep reading." Doran.
Oberyn took a minute inhaling and exhaling slowly before picking up the paper. He resumed his reading...
"All is not lost, the possibility of saving Elia and her children exists.
If you were to study the second document, you would notice a map of the red fortress of Maegor. That map shows secret passages leading to multiple safe entry and exit points into the structure.
It is actually possible to make a rescue plan. The chaos that will be generated in the fortress during the siege is your best window of opportunity to act in my opinion.
You will also notice that in addition to the documents, you will find 30 bottles with a serum in the chest. It can make a person immune to the effects of the 'Naath Island butterfly disease'. Each vial is a dose for one person. In the second document you will find, apart from the map, instructions on how to use the instrument called a 'syringe' that is to be used to administer the serum.
The island of Naath is one of the safest places in the world if people want to hide. The people are peaceful and do not know the meaning of 'violence'. The only risks are the small incursions of pirates and slavers, which hardly ever last more than a day, for fear of contracting 'Naath disease'.
If you ever decide to hide 'someone' on that island, please do not harm its inhabitants, and if possible help them to protect themselves.
In the future, when the time is ripe, I will show myself to you.
I hope we can create a prosperous relationship for both sides.
Should you accept the information contained in the message, I would ask you to light a fire signal on the highest tower of Sunspear. Should you require more 'dosh' in the future, please do the same.
A word of warning: if I ever learn in the future that certain people have been rescued, and that despite the rescue, the bodies of a 'girl', 'an infant' and a 'woman' have been found, with features very similar to the potential victims...I will be VERY VERY disappointed in House Martell.
That said, I wish you all the best and my warmest regards Prince Doran and Prince Oberyn." The message ended with a hand-drawn symbol and a...
"P.s. Please burn the message as soon as you are done finding it useful. Thank you in advance."
Oberyn had regained his composure and continued to think and ponder over all the points in the letter several times.
"What do you think?" Doran.
"What it says about the island of Naath is correct. Not many people know that the 'Naath disease' comes from the butterflies that inhabit the island. I studied the research done by Archmaester Embrose myself when I studied at the citadel." Oberyn.
"Have you ever seen that symbol?" Doran.
"A knight with wings holding a hammer? Never seen--
Do you seriously think Tywin Lannister could do that?" Oberyn.
"Tywin Lannister is a hard man, cunning and ruthless. King Aerys has insulted him for years, making his heir Jaime a royal guard was the straw that broke the camel's back. Besides, he always wanted his daughter Cercei to marry Prince Rhaegar...yes he could." Doran said, a minute of silence later he asked.
"How should we act in your opinion?" Doran.
"You already know my answer to that question brother." Oberyn replied staring intently into Doran's eyes.
End POV
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POV Author:
That same evening...
A man in a flat in Sunspear was staring at a tall tower from his balcony.
Bright flames adorned the tip of the tower itself...
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Torrhen's Square...
That same morning...
"Give up and put down that piece of wood." Syggha.
He ignored the woman and continued on his way....
"Both your legs and arms scream that you have reached the limit. Put it down." Syggha.
"Never..." Duncan resumed the route step by step.
He had already been circling the training ground for two hours. Several times his body had succumbed to the spasms and tremors of over-exertion, but each time he fell he grabbed his torso and stood upright again.
This was the fourth day since Zick had informed the boy that he could begin with physical training.
Syggha began the first day with lighter training, convinced that the boy would give in. But he didn't...
Although Duncan returned to the field each morning in a more pitiful condition than the previous morning, he continued undaunted with the tough physical training.
Syggha tried gradually increasing the intensity, urging him to surrender, insulting him and various other ways...the boy would not relent.
The boy's gaze expressed in a roar the exact same word since four days. 'Unmovable'...
The woman was beginning to lose patience. She was almost about to forget that the 'mountain' in front of her was just a five-year-old boy.
"Looks like I'll have to teach you the message in a different way..." She lost the wooden sword from the rack and approached Duncan who continued on his way. 'SHAPFFT' a whiplash hit the boy's thigh and he dropped to his knees gritting his teeth. Duncan got back up and continued on his way.
'SHAPFFT' same result....
"Drop that log!" Syggha.
'SHAPFFT'...nothing...Duncan got back up and continued.
"I will continue every minute until you stop." Syggha.
'SHAPFFT'...'SHAPFFT'....'SHAPFFT'...'SHAPFFT'...
Syggha lost his patience and hit Duncan with a blow to the solar plexus.
Duncan fell to the ground...
"Cough, cough, cough....bleargh....phuargh..fiuu...." The boy coughed and vomited on the ground, but after regaining air he crawled back to the log.
"LEAVE IT!!!" Syggha shouted furiously. She didn't really understand what was urging the child to continue. She had never experienced a situation like this before...
"DON'T GO AHEAD LITTLE LORD!!!" yelled a guard, unable to resist.
"NO! DON'T GET UP!" Shouted a maid still holding her hands to her mouth.
"STOP!!! YOU'RE KILLING HIM!" Shouted someone else.
A small crowd had formed within the walls adorning the camp. Even the recruits who were training stopped to watch.
Duncan ignored the pain and shouting and tried to raise his torso even though his legs were no longer responding. He tried one last effort...and then passed out.
Total silence hung in the air.
Concerned Syggha regained her wits and approached the child, but a hysterical scream behind her took her by surprise.
"YOU FILTHY BITCH! LEAVE MY BABY ALONE!!! ARGGHHH!!!"...
End POV
POV Leobald Tallhart;
Two days later...
Leobald was working in his brother's office continuing to think about the events throughout Westeros and the events in the castle two days ago.
Duncan was still in bed resting under Qyburn's tutelage.
The Maester recommended at least one more day of rest to let his nephew's body recover from the physical stress he had accumulated.
Trying not to think about it, the castellan returned to his work.
By now the production of soap had increased sixfold since the first month.
Leobald confronted Qyburn and decided to start trading with Braavos.
Half of the lots would be sold to the northern lords and the rest to the Iron Bank on the same terms as the other lords.
The Iron Bank had already sent a delegate to draw up the contracts of sale and purchase.
Braavos would trade the soap in Essos and the North in Westeros.
In this way they would not only secure the security position in the North, but also from threats from outside forces. It was the best move for his house. They would already have been able to pay off all their debts and still keep a decent reserve of gold (currently from the soap house alone Tallhart has a profit of about 11,000 D.G. per month). Even in wartime all the nobles of the north continued to buy batches of soap.
A knock was heard on the door....
"Master Zick, my lord."
"Let him come in!" Leobald quickly stood up worriedly.
"I hope I'm not disturbing you Lord Tallhart." Zick entered with a serene smile on his face.
"Not at all! Please master have a seat!" Leobald quickly replied.
"Thank you very much." Zick took a seat and so did Leobald.
"Again, my deepest apologies for the events of two days ago. My sister-in-law Lady Myra has already left this morning along with my nephews to visit her family. I assure you that such events will not happen again!" Said Leobald quickly.
"haha! Rest assured Lord Leobald. I didn't come here to show any reproach. It was just a minor incident with both parties at fault. Maester Qyburn has assured that no scratch marks on Syggha's face will remain and my friend shows no discontent." Zick said in a calm and peaceful tone.
Leobald took a deep breath of relief.
"No I just came to ask a few questions for information. If I'm not too much trouble." Zick.
"Please master ask away!" Leobald.
"Thank you. Yes as strange and indelicate as the question may be I will still have to ask it. Has your nephew Duncan ever suffered any kind of trauma in the past that might have shaken him significantly?" Zick asked.
"To the best of my knowledge...No Master Zick. My nephew has always lived in peace and quiet within the walls of this castle. I also believe he is adored and loved by all the residents...even more than my brother Helman." Leobald answered sincerely while remaining slightly confused.
"Mmm I see...Yes I had to warn Syggha these days not to eat or drink certain dishes and drinks...ahahaha!" Laughed Zick.
"Then I have a request that will need your permission." Zick.
"...Yes I have also warned the servants sternly master. Again I offer you and Miss Syggha my apologies. Please ask." Leobald answered embarrassed.
"I understand you are again preparing a punitive expedition for bandits in your lands...I would like Duncan to participate."
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
Duncan_Randar
Duncan_Randar Here is a new chapter!
Thank you all for your comments and support!
Again I apologise for my shameful and pathetic English!
I will improve it, I swear. In fact, the words I learned the day before yesterday are "My name is..." and today's words are "What + Your". Step by step towards the goal!
Happy reading.
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