บท 351: Chapter 352: Taming the Dragon
"Prince Quentyn, are you truly not attending the Dragon Queen's wedding?"
"No," Quentyn Martell leaned against the railings, a jug of red wine in hand, his voice thick with bitterness and resentment.
His gaze was fixed on the distant Great Temple of Grace, where faint cheers could be heard echoing through the city. The sound only deepened his sense of anguish.
What now?
Should I simply give up? Return to Dorne empty-handed?
He longed for home—missed the Greenblood River, Sunspear, and the Water Gardens. He yearned to breathe the air of Dorne once more.
But what of his father's command?
What of his father's vengeance?
When Caesar had first arrived in Meereen, Quentyn had even entertained the thought of assassinating him.
But Caesar had stayed only briefly, leaving in a fit of anger after a heated argument with the Dragon Queen.
When Quentyn heard the news, he wasn't sure if he should feel relieved or regretful that he hadn't had the chance to strike down his enemy.
Ultimately, Caesar's departure had been a good thing.
Quentyn had hoped it meant he still had a chance to marry Daenerys. But to his dismay, the queen had agreed to wed Hizdahr zo Loraq instead.
He took a long swig of wine, so fast that it made him choke.
Footsteps sounded behind him as Ser Gerris Drinkwater approached and leaned close to whisper:
"Your Highness, Meris and the others plan to answer the Tattered Prince's call and help the Yunkai'i open the eastern gate. Shall we join them?"
"Help the Yunkai'i open the gate?" Quentyn raised an eyebrow. "But aren't there Unsullied guarding the gates?"
"They seem confident. They say Meereen is about to descend into chaos, and the Unsullied won't be a threat for much longer."
Quentyn pondered this for a moment before shaking his head.
"We won't involve ourselves. Whether Yunkai can take Meereen or not is none of our concern. All I want is the Dragon Queen…"
"That will be difficult…" Gerris hesitated, then said cautiously, "Surely you've noticed by now that the queen has no intention of honoring her brother's old agreement."
Yes, Quentyn thought miserably. She doesn't love me.
No piece of yellowed parchment can change that.
Seeing the prince's dejection, Gerris tried to console him:
"Daenerys Targaryen isn't the only woman in the world. You don't have to marry her."
"But Dorne needs her," Quentyn sighed. "Dorne needs her dragons."
"Then why not go straight for the dragons?" Ser Archibald Yronwood suddenly suggested.
The other two froze.
Quentyn's dim gaze suddenly brightened.
"Yes, I could go directly to the dragons! If I bring one back to Dorne, I can save it!"
"You mean… steal a dragon?" Gerris asked, his expression complicated.
"It's the only way!" Quentyn said, his resolve hardening.
"But can you control a dragon?"
"I was riding horses by the age of six."
"Dragons aren't horses…"
"I have the blood of the dragon in me," Quentyn retorted.
Technically, he was right. Long ago, King Aegon IV had married his daughter to Prince Maron Martell of Dorne, uniting their houses.
But that was over a century ago, and after seven or eight generations, how much "dragon blood" remained in Quentyn's veins was anyone's guess.
"I've made my decision!" Quentyn declared, forcing himself to be resolute. He refused to return to Dorne a failure. "I know the queen keeps two of her dragons locked in the Great Pyramid's basement. While she's busy with her wedding, we'll steal one and flee!"
"What about the guards?" Archibald asked. "How will we get past them to reach the dragons?"
"That won't be hard," Gerris said, pulling out a bundle. Inside were three cloaks with hoods, three short swords, and three polished brass masks shaped like animal faces.
"The Unsullied have been deployed to guard the queen and the gates," Gerris explained. "The Great Pyramid is being guarded by the Brazen Beasts. With these masks, we can blend in."
"But the Brazen Beasts use a password."
"The password is 'dog.'"
Archibald gave Gerris a long look. "You're sure? That's a dangerous gamble."
Even Quentyn couldn't help asking: "Where did you get these supplies and that information?"
Gerris grinned.
"Meris gave them to me. It's what they're relying on to open the gates for the Yunkai'i."
Quentyn nodded thoughtfully, realizing there were spies from Yunkai among the Brazen Beasts.
This wasn't surprising. Daenerys' position in Meereen was tenuous, her hold over the city fragile. Without the Unsullied, the Meereenese nobles could have overthrown her on their own.
"Then it's decided!" Quentyn said. "We'll strike now, before the wedding ends, and secure a dragon. Then we'll flee to the Yunkai'i!"
With their plan set, the three men donned their disguises and infiltrated the Great Pyramid as Brazen Beasts.
At the bronze doors, a guard wearing a fox mask blocked their way and asked, "Password?"
"Dog," Quentyn said, his heart pounding.
The fox-masked guard stepped aside, allowing them to pass.
The Great Pyramid's lower levels were a maze of corridors, but Quentyn had visited before and remembered the way.
They descended a steep slope, the air growing darker and heavier with every step.
Quentyn felt like he was suffocating, as though trapped in a feverish dream.
Finally, they reached a massive iron door wrapped in chains, guarded by two Unsullied.
Unsullied! Not Brazen Beasts!
Quentyn's pupils contracted, his palms slick with cold sweat.
"What are you doing here?" one Unsullied asked in a monotone.
Quentyn and Gerris exchanged a glance before Quentyn rasped:
"Kill them!"
Before the words fully left his mouth, Gerris hurled a torch at one Unsullied and charged forward with his sword.
Archibald let out a roar and attacked the other.
Quentyn drew his short sword and joined the fray.
Three against two should have been an easy fight, but the Unsullied were not ordinary opponents.
Even as Archibald's sword pierced one's chest, the soldier thrust his spear at Quentyn, aiming for his throat.
The spearhead grazed Quentyn's cheek, leaving a shallow cut.
Archibald's opponent collapsed, finally dead.
Meanwhile, Gerris struggled against the second Unsullied, who fought with relentless determination. Blood streamed from Gerris' wounds, but with Archibald's help, they finally brought the soldier down.
"Quick! Open the door!" Gerris urged, worried that the commotion had drawn attention.
Archibald searched the fallen Unsullied for a key, unlocked the chains, and pushed the iron doors open.
A wave of heat hit them, carrying the stench of sulfur, ash, and scorched flesh.
The smell of dragons.
Quentyn took a deep breath, steadying his nerves as he stepped inside.
Ahead, two glowing eyes lit up in the darkness—bronze, like molten steel fresh from the forge.
Gerris raised his torch, illuminating a scaled beast the size of a horse. Its sinuous neck coiled like a serpent, leading to a massive, winged body.
"That one is Rhaegal," Quentyn whispered, his earlier courage waning at the sight of the creature.
Rhaegal opened his jaws, exhaling heat and light like a living furnace.
"What about the other one?" Gerris asked.
"There," Archibald pointed upward.
Quentyn looked up and froze.
Perched on the blackened rafters above them was Viserion. Golden scales shimmered in the dim light, and his molten-gold eyes glowed ominously.
Without warning, Viserion spread his wings, filling the room with ash and embers as bricks fell from the scorched ceiling.
"That one's Viserion…" Quentyn murmured, his mind blank.
Can I truly control such a creature? He felt a surge of doubt.
But there was no turning back.
"Bring the meat!" Quentyn ordered, his voice trembling.
Archibald tossed a bag of cooked lamb into the pit.
Viserion descended from the rafters in a gust of wind, landing near the meat.
"This one's eating," Archibald said. "Let's take him."
Quentyn slid down into the pit, moving cautiously toward Viserion.
Rhaegal growled, his chains rattling, and Quentyn froze.
But Viserion seemed focused on his meal, allowing Quentyn to approach.
"Down!" Quentyn commanded.
Viserion ignored him.
"Undo the chain!" Gellis shouted from above.
Quentyn approached cautiously, and Viserion suddenly turned his head.
A pale flame burned deep in his throat like a shining dagger, and his eyes were like lakes of molten gold, emitting a terrifying light.
No, I can't retreat. I can't let the dragon sense my fear.
At this moment, a horn suddenly sounded outside the Great Pyramid.
Quentyn's heart trembled.
"The Yunkai'i are attacking!" Gellis warned.
Quentyn gritted his teeth, rushed forward, and unfastened the locks on Viserion at the fastest speed in his life.
The scorching temperature burned his hands.
But the dragon did not attack him.
Quentyn was greatly encouraged and shouted again:
"Kneel!"
Viserion stretched his body, threw off the chains, raised his head and roared, as if celebrating his freedom.
"Kneel, Viserion!" Quentyn yelled again.
Hearing his name, Viserion suddenly lowered his head, his wings beating furiously, sending clouds of ash and smoke into the air. Then, a thunderous roar echoed through the scorched pit.
"No!" Garris and Archibald shouted frantically.
Quentyn, bewildered, raised his hands in front of him, but how could flesh and blood withstand the flames?
His hands were burning, his body was burning, everything was burning, the hellish flames consumed him.
Quentyn let out a piercing scream.
At that moment, another horn sounded.
The two dragons in the pit became agitated simultaneously, Rhaegal spread his wings to take flight but was held back by chains.
Viserion on the other hand, whose chains were removed, rushed out so fast that by the time the Dornishmen reacted, the golden figure had disappeared outside the massive door.
(End of Chapter)
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