Capítulo 38: Chapter 25: S2-E1: Red Sands and Black Isle 1/2
Chapter Twenty-Four: Red Sands and Black Isle
…
Ciri – The Red Wastes
"We should have left her!"
"You're saying we should let this die?!"
"Women don't fall from the sky or bring this…snow as you call it!"
"You do understand it has given us ample water for the whole Khalasar? We now may stand a chance in crossing the Red Wastes!"
Ciri grumbled as she'd hear the two male voices argue, one deeper toned and familiar while the other younger and foreign. Slowly her senses were coming to her, feeling the warm dry air across her skin and a worn bedroll at her back. She'd quickly realize that her furred collared coat, light leathers and cloth shirt were gone. All she had covering herself was just the linen wrapping around her chest, leather pants and her boots.
"Ugh…what is…going on?" Already a rush of adrenaline started kicking in as a flurry of situations filled her mind. She'd tug her right hand which was at her side, only to feel something holding it in place. Half-closed eyes looked to see a rope around her wrist, the bond staked into dry earth to keep her from escaping. "Why am I…bound up?" Already she'd tug, strength quickly returning to her body.
"Please be still Ciri."
Quickly she'd glance about until she saw the familiar face of that man who had found her, Jorah from what she could remember. His skin was tanned, short hair sun-bleached brown and face creased from being outdoors. His clothes were simple and practical, fitting for the hot climate they seemed to be in, though it showed the man's muscular build more openly. There was a ruggedness about him that reminded Ciri of Geralt, though his hazel eyes shared a friendly nature.
"She should be tied up…." A man behind Jorah muttered. His appearance reminded Ciri of one of the people Zerrikanian, considering his copper colored skin and braided black hair. His clothes were much more tribal when compared to Jorah, being a mix of brown furs and patched leathers. He had an odd sickle shaped sword in hand, obviously on guard because of her. "She must be a witch of some kind…"
Looking about, she'd notice she was in a crude tent, pieced together with worn cloth, leather and scrap wood. The ground was dry and rocky, colored light red like faded blood. Already she had a feeling she was in the complete opposite wasteland then the one she had just been battling in.
"Last I checked we didn't have any Valyrians left in Westeros, much less Essos. Remember your Khaleesi swore by her family name that she'd protect this woman." The gruff man remarked as he'd quickly free Ciri's arm. The tribal man muttered in a foreign tongue before lowering his weapon after that stern remark.
The name Valyrian sounded odd to Ciri, considering the two seemed to think she was one…whatever that was. She'd rub her wrist before shifting up to sit up on the bedroll, though wince out as she felt such tense soreness at her stomach. Glancing down she'd see bandages wrapped around, noting a few fresh scars hinting under them. "Best not move too much, you've been passed out for an entire day. You seemed to have been in quite the battle and from what I can tell you've had quite a rough life considering the scars you already bare."
Ciri was silent for a moment as again she'd think back over what happened. She'd remember her final goodbye with Geralt at the Tower on Undvik at the Isles of Skellige. Then she had stepped through the portal to a frozen wasteland, the source of the White Frost before encountering a…creature. The details were vague only that it was human like, had skin like living ice and horns in the shape of a crown. Whatever it was it was old…older than even the Crones of Crookback Bog who had captured her at one time.
"Ciri?" Jorah's voice snapped her to attention, the man having a concerned look on his face. "I know you must be confused…if anything I'm just as baffled considering how we found you."
"I take my arrival was…dramatic?"
"If you mean with the sound of thunder as the sky split and a gust of winter, yes, quite dramatic." He said with a small smirk and shrug, trying to seem casual despite the grand description.
Ciri couldn't help but chuckle, for a moment her worry about the White Frost fading. "I guess I have some explaining to do. Not sure though how much you'll believe it."
"Considering what I've witnessed in the last few days, you'd might think otherwise." Jorah's gaze did drift a bit before realizing how he stared at her. "I…ah…we should get your clothes back. We've done the best we can for your injuries, though you seem far tougher than you look considering the scars you already have." He'd moved to grab her shirt which was hanging on a wooden post, tossing it over to her.
She'd catch it with ease, showing her reflexes and coordination was recovering well before tugging the clothing over her head. "Destiny hasn't been kind for me that's for sure."
"Then you'll fit right in with us outcasts and ill-fated." A fair female voice spoke out at the flap of the makeshift tent, revealing it to be the silver-golden haired girl who had soothed Ciri to sleep. She remembered the name of this girl, Daenerys Targaryen. It was a bit unsettling how similar she looked to Ciri many years back, though she seemed fairer in appearance and unscarred in comparison. Though she could sense a deep pain about her, wounds that were deeper than any weapon could deal.
"Lady Daenerys-"
"She is Khaleesi, Sky Woman! You will speak only her proper title!" The tribal warrior snapped out, yet before he could say more Daenerys raised a hand to silence him.
"There is no need for that Rakharo." She calmly spoke to him. "I'm certain Ciri is only following the formalities she knows, considering she doesn't know of the Dothraki traditions." Moving closer, she'd shift down to sit beside the ashen haired woman. "Besides her strange arrival has ensured our survival in these lands. The water we've gathered from the snow may just last our trek through the Red Wastes." Her head bowed respectfully which Jorah and Rakharo did in turn, though the tribal warrior was a bit more hesitant.
There was some confusion hinting Ciri's eyes before she remembered bringing a piece of the frozen wasteland she had been fighting in. Quickly she'd understand the gratitude, which was a bit embarrassing considering this was all because of desperation.
"I…Thank you but if anything, I should be thanking you. You took me in despite your own struggles and cared for me with what little you had." Ciri now bowed her head in thanks to them.
"Then we are even then." The Khaleesi chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. "Perhaps it's time we introduce ourselves properly. Both of us no doubt has many questions about each other."
Already Ciri knew where this was leading to with her hosts wanting to learn more about her. Avallac'h had warned her to avoid revealing too much about herself, mainly the fact of her Elder Blood and its seemingly limitless power. Such power had attracted individuals like Eredin and Vilgefortz who'd sought to steal or control her powers. However, she doubted Daenerys was secretly a power-hungry sorceress…though when she focused on the pale skinned girl, she'd sense a strange power about her. It was faint, unique compared to other auras she had sensed.
"Of course. Considering my…arrival I'm sure you have a lot of questions." She'd pause though, a small smile crossing her face. "In fact, I'm surprised you are so calm and casual towards me, considering I just fell from the sky."
Daenerys couldn't help but laugh softly, a quite lovely sound. "I'm sure Jorah has mentioned a bit of recent events. Perhaps it is best I tell you about me and my people since you seem quite out of place here." There was a hint of sadness in her violet eyes mentioning the past. "This will be quite a long tale overall."
Ciri nodded before she'd shift the worn pillow behind her back a bit to support her up, grunting as her sore injuries ached. "Seems I won't be getting up any time soon, so take as long as you wish."
The amusing remark eased the mood lightly for everyone as Daenerys nodded. "Then I guess we should start from the beginning then…"
…
The last few hours seemed to pass by quickly as both Daenerys and Jorah shared their stories, long tales full of hardships and loss. If anything, Dany's history shared many eerie similarities to Ciri's, such as both being children of high royalty and old bloodlines. From the downfall of her family because of her father's growing insanity, the selfish cruelty of her brother and then the combined death of both her husband and unborn child within the same day. There was so much the young woman and endured, something which Ciri related with.
Soon the tale came to the grim end where Daenerys was ready to die beside her husband, walking into the funeral pyre built to him in a final show of honor. Yet somehow, she survived the whole night untouched by the fire and a trio of dragon eggs, which had been put as an offering, also hatched into the first dragons in over a hundred years.
"So, wait…I wasn't seeing things? You really have three baby dragons?" Ciri chuckled out.
"I would show them to you, but they are sleeping right now. They are still young after all, so they need a lot of food and rest."
"Of course…still it's hard to believe it true. Where I come from dragons have been mostly killed off or have simply traveled into the distant corners of the world. Geralt…my mentor, he has met a few in his travels which were all very exciting encounters from what he had told me. "
"They have dragons where you come from?" Jorah asked curiously. "Then again we still don't know where you are from still."
"Indeed. Despite your looks you don't seem to be Valyrian like me, though similar." Dany added.
By this point Ciri could tell everyone was eager to know her own past. Already she was debating on what cover story to give, though it was hard to make an excuse on the whole teleporting issue. Perhaps it was best if she was forward with the truth about herself. She needed their trust and knowledge if she had any hopes of figuring out how to get back to that frozen wasteland, though she had a feeling it wouldn't be so simple.
"I…shouldn't be telling you this but the situation is dire." She'd answer hesitantly. "You're right about how I'm special because like you I come from an old bloodline. It has many names from where I come from such as Hen Ichaer in the Elder Speech or simply the Elder Blood in the common tongue."
"Sounds similar the Targaryen line. Their history stretches back hundreds if not a thousand years."
"True…but my bloodline isn't that simple. I do come from a long-tangled line of royalty and…I'm in fact the heir to an entire empire, the Nilfgaard Empire. My full name is well…" She'd pause as even she needed a moment to remember it. "…Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon which is usually followed by a dozen or so titles to kingdoms I'm meant to rule."
Surprised looks across both Jorah's and Dany's faces, some hint of doubt showing. "That is…quite the name and unlike anything from even Westeros." Jorah remarked. "I can say I've never heard of this Nilfgaard, even from beyond the Jade Sea. Besides Valyria, no other empires have risen up in any other part of the known world."
Ciri glanced between the two, sensing their building excitement that her story was leading up to. "Because it's-"
Suddenly though were yells outside, people speaking out in an unknown language. Rakharo was tense as he'd drew his strange blade, hurrying out of the tent as he'd yell out in the same language as the people outside. Daenerys had a worried look as she stood up, concerned showing on her face. Before she could leave the tent, Jorah was quick to step forward.
"Let me deal with this. If these are truly Dothraki raiders from another Khal, they may be after you."
"I have no intentions of hiding while they threaten my Khalasar!" She snapped back at him. "Let's hurry. Perhaps we can reason with them." Before Jorah had a chance to argue, she slipped around him to leave the tent while he gave a small sight of frustration.
"At the least you should-"
However, Ciri grunted as she'd push herself up onto her feet, her stance shaky though she'd find her balance in time. Glancing about she'd see her blade Zireal resting against the one of the nearby posts. Grabbing the gnomish sword, she'd strap it across her back before moving to leave.
"Sadly, I'm not one to hide when trouble comes ether."
"That is noble of you, but you're still injured." Jorah politely argued back before more yells followed outside, a heated argument breaking out between Dany and an unknown man.
"No time for debating." Much like Daenerys, she'd get around the baffled man and head outside. She'd at last get a good look Dany's Khalasar who had set up a crude camp around the lone tent she had been in. The group had set up in the shade of a rocky formation to protect them from the harsh sun and the flank of the simple camp. Most of the wanderers were keeping back from the other side of the camp, though when they saw Ciri they'd mutter about in their exotic language. She'd give a small smile or nod, only getting nervous looks back as she passed by.
At the edge of the camp, she'd see where Dany with her three Bloodriders on guard, staring down eight other Dothraki warriors on top of sturdy steeds decorated in red tribal paint and fine decorated saddles. From the harsh tone and angry looks of the leading rider, he was arguing or giving out a threat to Daenerys who had a sharp glare in her eyes.
"I take they're not here for a friendly chat." Ciri remarked as she'd move to stand beside the silver haired girl.
Dany did smirk a bit, though kept a serious look. "He's a Blood Rider of the new Khal Jhaqo. He was a former ko, a lieutenant, to my husband Drogo before an infected wound made him too weak to ride. If a Khal can no longer ride, then he is no longer respected or followed. Jhago though was quick to take half my husband's horde with him and take the title of Khal though. He was always ambitious."
The mention of the late warlord's had the Bloodrider speak out more, again mockingly as Daenerys stare became quite hateful. If looks could kill, Ciri bet the girl could slay an army with that gaze.
"He claims he is here for me to take me back to holy city, Vaes Dothrak, to live the rest of my days with the other widows of dead Khals as a Dosh Khaleen. Seems Jhago is very set on following traditions despite how I'm not fully Dothraki."
"From the look on your face, you're not planning to accept his demands."
"I know by Dothraki tradition I must join the Dosh Khaleen, yet my people and dragons…my children…need me more than ever." She'd give a deep sigh. "If I accept my Khalasar will be spared…only to be enslaved. Refuse, then he swears he will take me by force and slaughter all of my people to the last woman and child."
Ciri glanced back at the rider who again spoke out, pointing at her with a sly grin. He'd start to make gestures with his hands and arms as he seemed to be more…provocative with his speech and body language. When he finished talking his fellow riders gave a mix of chuckles and laughs.
"No doubt that was about me." Ciri sighed, more out of annoyance then anger.
"He thinks you're my older sister and he wishes to…mount and share you with his men in exchange"
"I see. Typical." Ciri took a few steps closer, making the leader rider give an odd look to her. "Well then if he wants me…" She'd grasp Zireal, fine steel ringing out as she drew out from its sheath. "…then he is welcome to try."
"So, the ashen haired wishes to fight me?" The Bloodrider chuckled, speaking in the common tongue with a quite thick accent. "That is a fine blade. I think I'll keep it once I have you begging for mercy…"
The man's cockiness was quite amusing to Ciri, considering she had heard plenty of boasting over her many travels. "Then a challenge. Beat me and we'll accept your demands. Lose and you leave everyone alone. Simple and fair yes?"
"Heh…so the Valyrian bitch thinks she can make demands?" He questioned sternly before glancing at Daenerys. "Do you let her speak for you Khaleesi? Do you let your foolish sister risk what little honor and the lives of your lowly Khalasar?"
By now Jorah had caught up, sword already out as he'd see Ciri stepping up to challenge the Bloodrider. "Ciri you can't be serious?!" He warned out, making her glance back at the man. "A Bloodrider isn't to be underestimated. Besides you are still injured…"
It was obvious he was concerned for her, something Ciri found welcoming really. "I'll be fine Jorah…trust me on this." She'd give a coy smile, making the man give that signature sigh of frustration. He'd leaned in to speak to Dany in a low whisper, obvious concern showing in his eyes as he spoke. Ciri could tell from how he gestured at himself that he was offering to fight instead. For a moment Dany was silent, gaze drifting from Jorah and then to Ciri.
"Cirilla…are you confident that you can defeat him?"
Being called by her official name was odd to hear, yet it showed that Daenerys took this matter seriously. Ciri's emerald-green eyes had a dead set look to them as she glanced back at the others, giving a short nod as an answer back.
"Then I agree with my…sister's conditions…that is if you accept as well."
The Blood Rider paused as he'd look from Daenerys and then Ciri, smirking as he saw the ashen haired girl's intimidating stare. "To fight a woman is beneath me." However, he'd shift off the saddle and draw his sickle shaped blade once he dropped to the ground. "I'll accept your challenge though. At the least this will be an interesting distraction." He'd begin to move closer, stance relaxed as he seemed quite confident, even more with his follow raiders cheering him on.
Ciri in turn marched forward until the two were in charging distance from each other. Soon the two stopped, staring down each other for a tense moment. The Blood Rider had a smug and lecherous look in his eyes, while Ciri's was calm and passive, focused on the fight. She'd shift into a low stance, similar to Geralt's own style yet having a bit of her own personal touch to it.
"I'll try not to scar that lovely face any more then needed." He chuckled before he'd give a yell and rush at her, a fierce display that he'd thought would startle and lower her guard.
However, Ciri didn't even flinch as she kept her readied stance, waiting for the man to get up close to strike at her. The Bloodrider seemed to hesitate slightly in his attack as she didn't react at first, though he swung his sickle blade down at her, aiming for a grazing cut at her shoulder. At that moment she'd move, sword swinging upward with shocking force as she'd parry the attack, making the Dothraki stumble back from the perfect block. One of her legs swept at his, knocking him off his feet and land roughly onto the red colored dirt.
While he was baffled over what had happened, he quickly reacted as he'd roll away and tumbled onto his feet. "A lucky block nothing more!" He growled out as he'd attack again, weapon swinging about in more calculated strikes as he started to fight more seriously. Ciri dodged about with agile grace, though her body ached still from her lingering injuries. It was a minor issue when compared to past fights where she was half dead or at the point of exhaustion.
She'd back step while her blade moved about for redirecting blocks against the Dothraki strikes, giving her time to understand his fighting style and to best counter the unique crescent shaped weapon. The man was growing frustrated, no doubt because he was being so easily bested by a woman before his fellow warriors. Ducking to the right, he'd lash out with a wide slash, though Ciri was prepared for it. Zireal met the raider's blade, forcing him into a weapon lock. He'd curse something out in his native tongue as he struggled, trying to push her back and break her guard. Ciri turned her grip though, twisting her fine blade as she'd use the man's own momentum against him as he lurked forward. In one move she'd wrench his weapon out of his grasp, the sickle blade tumbling across the ground.
The Blood Rider didn't give up when disarmed, lashing out with a quick punch though Ciri lean to the side to avoid it before raising her right knee hard into the man's gut. The blow knocked the wind out of him, making him stagger back before she struck across his jaw with a strong back hand, making him spin about before tumbling to the ground. Ciri winced slightly from the punch, hand flexing since her leather gloves didn't offer that much protection for her knuckles. The Blood Rider groaned as he'd struggle to get back up, showing he was quite tough and persistent to keep fighting. Yet when he felt Ciri's sword press at his throat, he'd freeze and turn his head slightly to see the smirking woman.
"You know you were right…this was quite an easy fight." She remarked mockingly before glancing at Daenerys and Jorah.
The young Khaleesi had a pleased look on her face while the old warrior beside he gawked slightly, impressed with the show of fighting skill he had just witnessed. "I believe you have been bested Blood Rider." Dany calmly stated while the raider growled in anger.
"I demand a rematch! She must have cheated…somehow." He muttered, quickly realizing that was a foolish claim to make.
"You fellow riders witnessed the whole fight and your defeat. Judging by their reactions, they seem to think it was a fair outcome."
Indeed, the other raiders were muttering about, a few even chuckling considering how casually Ciri had defeated their leader.
Ciri had her sword drifting away from his neck as she'd tale a few steps away. "Now then, I take you'll honor our deal?"
The man's gaze was spiteful as both hands clenched at the ground in frustration. "Yes…I'll honor it…" He muttered after a tense moment.
"Good." With that said, Ciri turned about to move back towards Dany's gathered group, her Khalasar giving cheers and speaking out praises in their exotic language. Yet over all the noise she'd hear something odd from behind her, the raid speaking in Dothraki…yet not at the same time.
"Over your corpse, ashen witch!" The words were in Dothraki yet…somehow processed the words despite not knowing them.
Glancing back, she saw the Blood Rider had sprung up onto his feet and drawn a curved dagger, lunging in to attack her from behind. At that moment, instinct kicked in before pale blue light sparked in Ciri's eyes, her Elder Blood stirring the limitless power within her. Just as the man stabbed at her back, she'd disappear in dazzling light which left a faint after-image of her.
"What-" The Blood Rider didn't have enough time to react before Zireal stabbed right though his back, the gleaming blade piercing through his tribal garb and flesh like butter. He'd stare at the blade sticking far out of his chest, shaking hands grasping at it before the weapon pulled out of him. Dropping to the ground dead, his blood darkening the already red sand.
Ciri flick her blade to clear away the blood on it, giving a sigh as she'd stare at the dead man. At that point she'd realize she had phased through him to avoid his attack, right before everyone. Looking at Danerys, Jorah and the gathered Dothraki, there was open shock showing on their faces as they had seemingly seen the impossible.
"Right…going to have to explain that…" She muttered before one of the raiders yelled out.
"Kill the Valyrian Witch!" Again, he spoke Dothraki yet Ciri understood it. Already she was questioning if her Elder Blood was the reason behind this, considering that its full potential and abilities were still unknown to her. Such theories though had to wait as five of the raiders charged at her, seeming dead set to kill her despite their leader's cowardly move to attack her from behind.
"My Blood Riders, aid Ciri!" Dany ordered out the Dothraki warriors snapping to attention as they obeyed. Jorah followed them, equally ready to join the fight.
Ciri raised her sword up, letting power surge through her as the riders neared her. Pale blue light shone in her eyes as she'd 'see' an expanded ring of energy, which soon reached three of the rights. At that moment she'd let the building power loose, fading again in a flash of light as she'd Blink to the three riders. Suddenly, ghostly images of her appeared in mid-air as one by one the raiders were brutally cut down. One lost his head, another an arm and the nearly cleaved from shoulder to waist. They all toppled from their mounts which ran off in a panic, the only raider alive screaming as he'd grasp his gushing stump of an arm. Seeming Ciri appeared right beside him, looming over him as he'd raise his arms up in defense only to get cold steel stabbed right into his heart.
Daenerys Blood Riders and Jorah focused on the remaining even though they were at a disadvantage against the mounted raiders. The group split into teams of two, Jorah with one of the Blood Riders and Rakharo with the fellow Rider. The remaining raiders in turn split into pairs to attack the two groups, making sure they couldn't form a coordinated defense or offense. Jorah was tensed as one of the raiders charged at him, but at the last minute both he and his Blood Rider ally dodged aside. He'd block a sweeping slash by the raider's crescent blade, unbalancing the raider slightly in his saddle. The Blood Rider took that chance to jump up and grasp the man, yanking him off his mount and slammed onto the ground. A quick struggle followed with the more experienced Rider slit the other Dothraki's throat in the end.
Jorah noticed the other raider suddenly break away from his charge, riding fast away from the battle and into the open wasteland. "He's fleeing!"
Meanwhile, Rakharo and his companion had dealt with both of their attacks, taking one down the similarly as Jorah's group. The remaining raider was quickly surrounded as he'd tried to rush his steed by, only to get a knife thrown into his back before being yanked off his mount to be finished off.
"I'll get him!" Ciri called out, again focusing her power as she'd stare down at the distant man. She had never tried to Blink so far before, yet the magic of this world was so potent that she didn't feel limited. Again, she'd disappear in a flash, warping all the way to the distant raider who she stabbed in the side and force off his horse. He'd spit out a curse before getting stabbed in the chest to silence him.
Giving a low sigh, Ciri looked out at the distant camp as everyone was busy rounding up the horses of the dead Dothraki raiders. She'd glance at the steed beside her, debating if she shouldn't just take it and ride away now. Already she was worried how Daenerys and the others would react after seeing her Elder Blood powers. She'd pause in thought, knowing that she needed to leave and face the White Frost.
"Yet where…and how?"
Indeed, nothing was going to plan since she had expected to find the White Frost then destroy or contain it somehow. Now she was possibly a world away without anyone able to advise her.
"Geralt or Avallac'h would know what to do…"
In the end a realization came to her. If Geralt was in her shoes, he'd no doubt stick with people who helped him even if for a short time. Indeed, Daenerys and her people had showed a rare kindness to her despite their own struggles, something that had her pause as she'd grip the reins of her new horse. After a long moment, she'd pull herself up onto the saddle before guiding her mount back towards the camp.
Deep down she had an odd feeling of fate having some hand in all of this. She hated how she was facing the unknown…but for now she planned to face it head on no matter the odds.
…
Geralt – Davos Ship within Blackwater Bay
The ship creaked and groaned, the noises stirring the Witcher awake. A low groan escaped from him as shifting up from the cot he lay on, an aching pain starting up from the back of his neck and up to his head. "Guh…damn it…" He muttered, mind groggy as he'd try to remember what happened. Glancing about he'd realize he was in the crew quarters, a large space which had alcoves set around for cots and bunks.
"Up and about I see." A familiar voice remarked, drawing Geralt's attention to Thoros who was sitting on a nearby chair. "Been keeping an eye on you ever since last night. You scared the Hells out of everyone when you fell over and started shaking like a man possessed." The red robed priest chuckled as he'd offer a hand to pull the Witcher onto his feet before giving a hardy pat on his shoulder. "What exactly happened last night? Stress of the day decided to crash down on you all at once?"
He'd quickly remember the last few moments of last night. Gaunter had showed up suddenly, sharing a quick chat over recent events before mentioning some event, a reawakening. The Red Comet, the surge of Source and the strange 'light' he had seen from the far east. Just trying to picture what he saw hurt his head, making him grumble as he rubbed one hand along the side of it. "Can't really explain it. Just…saw something odd in the horizon and…passed out." It was pretty much the truth despite how vague it sounded.
"Feel there is more to it but…" Thoros shrugged. "…eh…doesn't matter. Right now, you best get up on deck. Everyone is up and about, still pretty rattled about Lord Stark's passing."
"And you aren't?"
The Red Priest gave a faint smile. "For me, I celebrate his memory and actions. Mourning isn't something we follow under the Lord of Light."
"Fair point…guess I can say it was better he died seeing his daughters one last time instead of being executed." Part of him wondered how Ned's daughters would have felt…especially Sansa if she had remained captive at the Red Keep. However, he put such thoughts aside since thinking over the 'what ifs' were unimportant right now. "Anyway, I need to talk to Davos and work out our next move. Know where he'd be?"
"At the wheel no doubt. Been at the helm all night long after what happened."
Geralt nodded as he'd head out of the sleeping quarters, reaching the main section of the mid-deck which had the stairway between levels and to other sections. Heading up, he'd hear the splash of the waves along the hull and squawking of gulls above the sails. On deck he'd see Davos crew busy doing their usual duties, tending to the ropes and sails to ensure the ship was moving at top speed. He'd notice a few of his companions milling about, doing simple tasks or keeping watch out across the vast bay.
The Witcher and priest would head around to the helm of the ship were Davos was at, standing behind the wheel as he kept the ship on track with the high wind blowing them further northeast. The gruff captain had his gaze dead set on the horizon, only looking away when the two neared him.
"Geralt! Glad to see your up and about." He remarked with a small grin. "Everyone was worried after last night, but I knew you'd shrug off…well…whatever happened."
"Glad you had such confidence." The Witcher answered back. "I take we had no trouble last night?"
Davos nodded. "Nothing so far. We got a good lead after all and I doubt any of their ships can match The Hearty."
"Odd name for a fast ship." Geralt paused as he'd glance around the deck, having to admit the ship was well designed and maintained, though had hints of being quite old as well. "Seen a lot of ships on my travels, though yours's seems to be quite agile for a cargo ship."
"Well smuggling was my profession before the Rebellion. Just because I reformed didn't mean I was going to scrap my ship! I made sure to keep her maintained for quick profitable voyages."
"Though she lacks weapons beyond the crew…who aren't hardened fighters."
"You know me. I prefer to avoid danger then face it." Davos said with a shrug. "However, I doubt you woke up just to talk about ships."
"First matter is Lord Stark's body. I take it's isolated right now."
Davos nodded. "Cleared a store room for him. Been cleaned and covered up, so he'll be fine by the time we reach Dragonstone."
"Good." Geralt paused in thought. "How is everyone from the rescue party?"
"A bit shaken up, though recovering. Most of their injuries were minor though most have been distant since yesterday. Lord Stark's death was hard news to take, considering after all they went through back at the capital." He'd pause for a moment. "Be best you talk to them, try to get them focused for whatever happens ahead."
"Sound advice." Geralt agreed. "Keep our course steady captain."
"Will do." Davos chuckled, his expression softening a bit before he focused his gaze out to the sea.
"About time I handle a few matters of my own. Besides doubt you want me looming around while you talk with everyone." Thoros chuckled. "We'll talk again once we reach Dragonstone."
"If that is what you think is best." Shrugging, the Witcher watched the Red Priest walk back for the stairs leading back down below deck. He had to admit Thoros seemed a bit odd, more lively and clear minded than usual. Then again it could be the first time the Witcher had seen the man possibly sober. Part of him felt that he wasn't the only one to have sensed this Awakening, considering Thoros had some strange abilities of his own.
Putting those theories aside, he'd glance about the deck of the ship to see Syrio leaning against the railing of the ship, staring eastward across the water. The duelist had gotten a swallow cut from his jaw and up to his left cheek, showing how even someone of his agile skill could get wounded. Approaching him, the curly haired man glanced at Geralt with a small grin.
"Doing alright Geralt?"
He'd nod back as he'd stand beside Syrio. "Shouldn't have to worry about me, if anything you seem a bit lost in thought."
"True…I've had this strange feeling ever since the day we escaped the Red Keep." He'd brush one hand through his wild hair, face having a deep thoughtful look. "I feel out of place, as if I shouldn't be here. Perhaps I'm simply shaken after all the chaos that has happened…"
"You may understand fight and death, yet open battle must be new to you. It's normal to feel that way."
Syrio shrugged. "That aside, I've been debating on what my path will be. I feel uncertain of what to do."
"Unsure if you wish to stay or return home?"
The duelist glanced at Geralt with a hint of surprise, quickly remembering how insightful the man was. "It has been a long time since I left Bravos and Essos. I do long to return home…but I feel obligated to help you as well, since you saved my life."
"That is kind of you but consider that debt paid for. You did your part helping us save Eddard's daughters despite all the risks." However, Geralt began to think a bit as he remembered last night. Before he had passed out he had sensed Ciri for a split moment, maybe even 'saw' her considering that streak of light in the sky heading far into the east. "There is something you could help me with in Essos. You must know about my adopted daughter Ciri and how's she's missing."
"I've heard such whisperings back at the capital."
"May sound crazy but…had a bit of a premonition last night before I passed out." He kept it vague since already he drew an odd look from Syrio. "Point is I know she's somewhere in Essos. Considering your ties there I feel you'd be most suited to look for her."
"You are making quite the request of me. Essos is a massive place and to find one girl would be an impossible task…"
"Trust me, Ciri is the type who will stand out and draw attention given time. After all, how many young women do you know have ashen hair, a scarred face and dressed around in men's clothing?"
Syrio for a moment seemed ready to answer but hesitated before chuckling out. "Alright I'll admit I haven't met such a woman before." For a moment he paused in thought, thinking over the request. "It will take time…months maybe a year. If you feel that is the best way I can help I will gladly do so."
"Glad you agree. Any plans on how you'll get to Essos though?"
"Some ideas. If Lord Stannis has supply ships heading across the Narrow Sea. If not, I'll have to wait until we get to Gulltown or White Harbor for me to get a way eastward."
"Why those places? They're quite farther north than other nearby ports."
"Because you'll be in a hurry taking Eddard's daughters back to Winterfell, with the quickest route being by boat." Syrio simply answered back. "We'll no doubt stop at either of those harbors, so that will be my chance to head across the Narrow Sea."
"Hopefully we won't have to stay too long at Dragonstone."
"Matters how well you can deal with Lord Stannis. I only saw him a few times before he left the Red Keep. I can tell he's a man that takes his duties seriously and has little sense of humor."
"Details I'll keep in mind." Glancing across the ship deck, Geralt noticed Beric had just finished getting the last set of ropes bundled up and sat down at some tied up crates to rest. "Anyway, need to chat with everyone else. Try to take it easy until we get ashore."
"Wise advice Witcher." Syrion chuckled before the Witcher moved away, heading towards Beric direction.
The young lord had the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, revealing his right shoulder had arm had been bandaged up from yesterday's battle. He'd glance up once Geralt neared, giving a respectful nod to him. "Ser Geralt."
"No need to call me 'Ser'. Not really a knight like everyone claims."
"Heh perhaps…though your actions of late have been nothing but heroic."
"Don't discount yourself. I doubt we'd have gotten as far without you or your men."
Beric sighed, bowing his head slightly. "Aye…a lot of good men." He'd give a low sigh, tired after the stressful week that had played out. "Wish I had been more prepared…more organized when we were betrayed at the Red Keep."
"Trust me, I feel the same. Shouldn't have underestimated Littlefinger and his ambitions. Cersei may have been behind the conspiracy against her husband, but it was Baelish who stabbed us in the back. Makes me wonder what kind of meddling he has done while everyone overlooked him."
"We'll have to be ready for him. I bet you anything he will spin some tale to Lady Catelyn, try to use her trust and history to deceive her."
Admittedly Geralt hadn't thought on such a possibility. He'd have to make sure to send ravens out quickly before Baelish and their other enemies spread falsehoods across the Kingdoms. "One thing is for certain, if I ever see him again I'm not going to give him a chance to talk."
Beric's eyes had a fierce gleam to them. "Hope you'll give me a chance to take a hack at him. The Lannisters may much to answer for. In the end his actions are what got Lord Stark killed."
"Agree." Geralt muttered back. "Plans of vengeance aside, I take you plan to stick around."
"Yes. I feel I have a duty to at least ensure Eddard's daughters are escorted safely back home. I know you're more than capable of protecting them, however this is an honor bound duty for me to follow."
"Won't argue with your reasoning, just I question about how you will lead your House. Blackheaven from my understanding is pretty far off and I doubt you'll be able to get back easily."
"Very true. I can't leave my men and House untended, so I've already written up possible orders for them once we've spoken with Lord Stannis."
"What makes Stannis so important to your decisions?"
"I'm sure you've heard plenty of his stern manners and strict way of thinking. Since he is the rightful heir to the Iron Throne, then he will stick to that claim to his last breath. He will expect every House across all the Kingdoms to side with him, especially the North."
"I'd imagine Robb would accept siding with him. Between Stannis' right to rule and the interest of bringing justice for his father, they'd have plenty of reasons to have an alliance."
"Indeed, but you must understand that the rest of the North has their own interests as well. The other Houses and Lords of the North will see this as a chance to grab power, putting pressure on the young Warden to bend to their demands in exchange for their aid."
"How can you be so sure about that?"
"Because while the North may drive the ideal of honor and tradition there are many who simply follow greed and power. After all you've only interacted with the Starks…you have only one small perception of the Northerners."
Beric was right on that fact. Eddard made it seem as if the North was indeed a unified Kingdom, which perhaps it was under his leadership. With him dead though, it makes sense that those with silent ambitions would make a move to grab for power. "Then more reason for me to get to Winterfell as soon as possible."
Beric nodded in agreement. "For now, let's see if we can gain good favor with Lord Stannis once we reach Dragonstone. After all, we'll need one of his ships if we ever plan to head northward."
Geralt already was wondering how difficult it'd be dealing with the other Baratheon. If he had even a fraction of Robert's stubbornness, it no doubt be tricky to negotiate with him. Besides he did hear odd rumors about the man as well, talk of how he had taken in a Red Priestess, a servant of the Lord of the Light. Thoros had muttered about her, not sharing anything more for now.
"Then I'll try to be on my best behavior." He chuckled, making a small smirk cross the young lord's face. "Know how Sansa and Arya are handling all of this?"
"They've kept to the guest room below deck and have been mostly quiet since last night. Can't imagine how they're feeling after saying goodbye to their father…but they will pull through I'm sure."
"I'll try to talk to them later." At this point Geralt saw Barristan walk up from the lower deck, the old knight giving short formal greetings to the crew who in turn did the same with quite awed looks. Just looking at the man, he could tell he was restless and on edge even though his poise made him seem relaxed. "Anyway, we'll talk later Beric. Find me if anything comes up."
"Of course, Geralt."
Giving a parting wave goodbye, the Witcher turning to walk towards Barristan who glanced at him for a moment before moving to the bow of the ship were there was less of the crew working about. Stopping at the very end of the ship, the two looked directly out to the northeast directly where the ship sailed towards.
"Feels like history is repeating itself once more." The old knight muttered, keeping his gaze forward. "Part of me wonders if I would have stepped in during Lord Stark's trial…try to stop a whole other war from breaking out."
"And would you?"
There was a long pause before Barristan sighed and bowed his head. "I feel I'd stand by and let it happen, just as I did during the Mad King's time." He'd give a low sigh. "The King's Guard was my life Geralt. It was a duty I believed and followed without question…which in turn lead to so much conflict."
"Can't put the blame on yourself for Aerys Targaryen's choices. Besides, he may have tried to execute you if you defied him."
"Or at least try. You don't think I'd stand by and let him arrest or kill me would you." The man chuckled. "I'm sure you know how I scared the other members of my order when they tried to draw swords on me."
"All except Jaime from what I heard." Geralt paused, remembering his short clash with the Lannister on the execution stage.
"He must have known Cersei had a hand in my dismissal. No doubt she knew I'd question King Robert's passing no matter the outcome with you or Lord Eddard. Since she couldn't arrest or execute me, simply removing me from my position was her best choice."
"Do you think she killed Robert?"
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