Capítulo 48: Arthur XVIII
The coming of the new year occurred along the southern coast of Dorne, the night before we passed the mouth of the Brimstone River, which stank much like Dragonstone, living up to its name.
It was a simple thing the passing of time, but no less significant for that, I was on a time limit after all, both for the long night which would no doubt follow this long summer, and more pressingly, for my uncle's death and the subsequent war, though that admittedly might not occur.
The passing of the year was a reminder of these possibly quite literal deadlines, and I was almost tempted to skip the arbor entirely, but decided against it, offending the Redwynes wasn't a good idea after all, and I would be visiting Oldtown either way.
After that, the voyage continued apace, though I had the Marines and gunners drilling on the decks every day now, instead of every other. I wished that I could have them practicing their aim as well, but unfortunately, nitrates were in limited supply, and already being harvested by rather disgusting means. I didn't have the mind for chemistry to affix it with Ammonia despite my new life's training in alchemy and the insights that brought.
Of course, I never knew any chemists that could create living constructs out of metal, though to be fair, it didn't seem alchemists could either. I hoped that might change once magic started pouring back into the world properly again. It reminded me of what I had heard of Mistborn, our magic on that line, with each metal having its own properties when exposed to blood and words of power, but I never read those books, and either way we couldn't make anything except copper, the lowest of the affected metals, actually react to our spells. Thus our magic was mostly limited to wildfire, oh, and the contact explosives we could make out of it, which I suppose made up for a lack of golems.
The following days passed by with comparatively little hassle, while the Dornish coast did occasionally get battered by storms, they tended to only come during the rainy months, which was not a season in the Westerosi conception, but tended to happen at least a month or more into the year every year, roughly corresponding to spring on earth. For us at least it was smooth sailing, the maiden fleet passing by the rocky gulfs and bays of Western Dorne with little hassle and clear blue skies in the early days of the new year.
It wasn't long before we finally passed the mountains and instead turned south, our compasses guiding us on the open sea to the Arbor.
It was half a days travel off the coast when we spotted the northernmost of the Arbor's islands, Stonecrab Bay, where some of the Redwyne fleet was docked. We passed by to good cheer on both sides, and continued south to Starfish Harbor, where one of the Redwyne's three castles, Olive-Grove, was located, they also controlled castle Great-Vine at Vinetown, and Castle Red-hill which lay in the center of the island amidst it's only range of hills, and was as I heard it mostly used for wine storage, being away from the coast where their power was based.
As we approached the port however, I noted that it was not only Redwyne flags that were present, and I pulled my hand down my face as I realized what Lord Paxter's game likely was. The port was full of ships and light, and along with the Redwyne fleet were Tyrells and Hightowers, Florents and Tarlies, half a dozen other lords of the reach and even some from the Westerlands, including a boat bearing the flag of the Lannisport Lannisters. The whole port was full of lanterns strung up from ropes between the white plastered buildings, and the whole place seemed to radiate the aura of a festival.
My hands gripped the railing tighter.
'He aims to pressure me into accepting his betrothal by throwing a great party eh?'
If I hadn't already decided on Arianne I would appreciate the gesture more, but now it clearly went against my will.
Still, after a moment I calmed myself, forcing my breathing to slow. He was doing nothing wrong here technically, arguably even being polite. I shouldn't hold this against him or Desmera, if I were aiming for a political marriage I might well do the same. I shouldn't treat this as one of my incestuous Aunt's plots when there was little distinction between manipulation and a good-faith gesture to demonstrate his house's wealth and friendliness. It was Westeros sure, but assuming that everyone was a mastermind was just as likely to get you killed as assuming that everyone was a doe.
'At the very least I will meet my Mother's relatives.' I sighed as the Sword moved towards one of the great docks of the harbor, designed for Lord Paxter's Galleys, which had been conspicuously left open in a place of honor.
No, I would not be mad about this. I would treat it with the respect and dignity it was due, and besides, I had even brought gifts of my own.
I hoped Desmera liked her Unicorns.
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