บท 312: Chapter 313: Mother of Dragons
Essos, Qarth.
Daenerys Targaryen reclined on a rocking chair on the balcony, draped in a green silk robe, watching her three dragons squabble over their meal in the courtyard below.
The sound of approaching footsteps broke her reverie. She didn't need to turn around to know it was Ser Jorah Mormont.
"My Queen," Ser Jorah said as he entered, the black bear sigil of House Mormont sewn onto the leather of his chest. "We must leave Qarth soon; this city grows more dangerous by the day."
It was true. Daenerys knew that ever since her dragons had burned down the House of the Undying, the people of Qarth had become increasingly hostile toward her.
Almost overnight, the city's residents had remembered the danger posed by dragons and began clamoring for her expulsion.
Some voices even called for her execution.
"But where would we go?" Daenerys murmured, her mind drifting to the man she had seen in the flames of the House of the Undying—the man with a white dragon.
"Anywhere friendly," Ser Jorah replied. "Somewhere you can wait safely for your dragons to grow. Once they've matured, you can return to Westeros and take back what is yours."
What is mine. The thought made Daenerys feel lost. She had never set foot on Westeros or seen the Red Keep's Iron Throne, yet those things were said to belong to her—though now, she had nearly nothing.
"If you wish, I can take you to the docks," Ser Jorah suggested. "We can see if any kind ship captain will take us away."
"Very well," Daenerys said, rising. She instructed her handmaids to watch over her dragons and then followed Ser Jorah out.
They left the marble palace behind, passing through the city's slums until they reached the docks.
Qarth was one of the world's largest ports. Beneath the vast canopies covering the docks, the air buzzed with voices. Taverns, warehouses, and gambling dens lined the streets, which teemed with merchants, laborers, slaves, thieves, and vagrants.
The air carried the mingled scents of spices, sweat, and suffering.
"Your Grace, someone is following us," Ser Jorah said quietly.
"Who?" Daenerys asked, startled. She instinctively began to turn her head, but Ser Jorah stopped her.
"Don't look back," he warned, picking up a polished bronze mirror from a nearby stall and holding it high to reflect their surroundings. "It's a white-bearded old man and a stout fellow."
The merchant mistook their interest as intent to purchase and began extolling his wares with great enthusiasm.
"Do you recognize them?" Daenerys asked, feigning interest in the merchant's goods while speaking softly.
"No, but the white-bearded man looks Westerosi and oddly familiar. He might be an assassin sent by the usurper."
Daenerys bit her lip. Assassins sent by the usurper had pursued her for as long as she could remember—a relentless chase and endless flight.
She was tired of it all.
"If there are only two of them, we should be able to handle them, right?" Daenerys asked.
"We can, but not here. It's too chaotic…" Ser Jorah's words trailed off as a Qartheen man knelt before Daenerys, presenting a jeweled box in his hands.
"A gift for the Mother of Dragons, from the royal family," the man said.
"How kind," Daenerys said, taking the box. She had received many such gifts since arriving in Qarth, though she suspected this would be the last, as the city's patience with her and her dragons had worn thin.
The wooden box was exquisite, with a jade-encrusted emerald lid. Daenerys opened it to reveal a shimmering green insect.
Beautiful. She thought as she reached out to touch it.
"I'm sorry," the Qartheen man murmured.
Daenerys barely heard him.
The green insect hissed, unfurling its body.
She glimpsed its malevolent black face and venomous, dripping tail—
Suddenly, a staff shot out, smashing the box from her hand.
The box flew through the air, splintering into pieces.
Daenerys gasped as the stall owners shouted. The entire dock erupted in chaos, with people screaming and shoving.
Amid the commotion, the white-bearded man appeared at her side. His staff had shattered the box, and he now ground its contents underfoot.
"Forgive me, Your Grace," the old man said, kneeling on one knee. "It's dead now. Are you hurt?"
"No," Daenerys replied, still in shock, her gaze vacant.
"Forgive the sudden intrusion—" The man began, but Ser Jorah lunged at him, pressing a dagger to his throat.
"Let him go!" Daenerys exclaimed, recovering her composure. "He just saved me. Look at the creature beneath his staff—the assassin was the Qartheen who gave me the gift."
She scanned the area, but the Qartheen man had disappeared.
Ser Jorah, seeing the crushed manticore beneath the old man's staff, reluctantly released him but remained wary.
"Who are you? Why were you following us?" Ser Jorah demanded.
"We were sent by Illyrio Mopatis of Pentos to find the Mother of Dragons," the old man explained, gesturing to himself and the stout man behind him. "I am Arstan, and this is Belwas."
"Lies!" a clear voice suddenly rang out.
Daenerys turned to see a slender, dark-skinned youth, no older than sixteen or seventeen, squeezing through the crowd. His chest bore armor emblazoned with a two-headed eagle.
"What lies?" Daenerys asked.
"I said the old man is lying," the youth replied. "His real name is not Arstan."
The white-bearded man looked ashamed rather than defensive, his expression confirming the youth's claim.
Ser Jorah scoffed. "Your Grace, these strangers are all deceitful. Stay away from them."
Daenerys ignored him, turning to the youth.
"And who are you?"
"I am Katu TigerFang, a knight of the Storm King, Caesar."
"The last Storm King died three hundred years ago," Ser Jorah sneered. "You're just another fraud. Your Grace, we should leave."
At the mention of Caesar's name, Daenerys's eyes brightened.
This was the name she had heard in the flames of the House of the Undying.
Remembering the visions she had seen in the fire, she pressed further:
"Does your Storm King have a dragon?"
"Of course," Katu said proudly, puffing out his chest. "Caesar has a white dragon."
It's him! Daenerys thought, her conviction growing stronger.
Ser Jorah looked skeptical.
"Your king also has a dragon?"
"He does," the old man—now identified as Arstan—interjected.
Daenerys looked at him sharply.
"You saved my life. Isn't it time to tell me your true identity?"
The old man sighed heavily.
"You're right, Your Grace. My name is Barristan Selmy."
"You're the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard!" Ser Jorah exclaimed, finally recognizing the man he had failed to place earlier.
"Not anymore," Barristan replied. "The Iron Throne is now held by Lannister bastards. I no longer serve them."
"But you once served the usurper," Ser Jorah said.
"And I once fought alongside Prince Rhaegar Targaryen," Barristan retorted. "I do not deny serving Robert Baratheon—that was a stain on my honor. But I have since seen the truth and come to serve the rightful queen."
With that, Barristan knelt before Daenerys.
"You are the rightful heir to the Iron Throne, the last of House Targaryen, the true blood of the dragon. Will you accept my service?"
"Beware, Your Grace," Ser Jorah warned. "He once served your enemies."
"You are not the last of the dragon's blood," Katu TigerFang interrupted.
"I accept your service," Daenerys said, helping Barristan to his feet. She then turned to Katu.
"Is your king also a Targaryen?"
"Caesar is a Blackfyre," Barristan interjected. "If there were other Targaryens alive, I would know."
"His Grace Caesar has a dragon," Katu countered.
"Yes, he does," Daenerys said, smiling. "Will he help me reclaim the Iron Throne?"
"His Grace Caesar is already fighting the usurpers in Westeros," Katu replied. "He even killed a false king. Barristan can confirm this."
"It's true," Barristan admitted. "Caesar killed Joffrey, but not for you."
Daenerys paused, realization dawning.
"You're saying Caesar wants the Iron Throne for himself?"
"Caesar has already declared himself king. His ambition is clear," Barristan said.
"The Iron Throne can hold only one ruler," Ser Jorah reminded her.
Daenerys frowned and asked Katu,
"Tell me, does Caesar also want to sit on the Iron Throne?"
"You should ask His Grace in person." Ser Katu said politely, "He will be waiting for you in Astapor."
"Astapor in Slaver's Bay?"
"Yes. His Grace Caesar looks forward to meeting you there and has even prepared a gift for your meeting."
Daenerys hesitated.
Ser Barristan spoke up: "Your Majesty, Governor Illyrio sent us to bring you to Pentos, where he has prepared money and an army for you. He will fully support your return to Westeros to reclaim the Iron Throne."
"Is it now?" Ser Katu mocked, "Why do I remember it was Governor Illyrio who sold the Mother of Dragons to the Dothraki?"
"Not sold, but married the Mother of Dragons to the Dothraki horse lord," Ser Barristan Selmy defended.
"Enough," Daenerys stopped their argument and made a decision, "I will go to Astapor to meet Caesar first."
"Your Majesty..." Both Ser Barristan and Ser Jorah were ready to dissuade her.
But Daenerys was resolute: "I want to meet Caesar. And his dragon."
"You will meet them," Ser Katu said with a bright smile.
(End of Chapter)
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