章節 3: Chapter 3
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***
A small room, one window and only a few people were in the glorious Tower of Joy in South Westoros, which was in Dorne.
On a bloody bed after giving birth lay a dark haired northerner named Lyanna Stark, beside her kneeling worriedly was not the father of the child that was now in his mother's arms, but her brother, Eddard Stark.
- Ned... please promise me... promise me that you will protect him from Robert.
- I promise! - Ned nodded to her.
- His name... Aegon Targaryen... Promise me, Ned....
After a few seconds, she stopped saying anything and her eyes paled. She was dead.
At that moment, the baby, feeling that he had lost something important, cried out. He was comforted by the new Lord of Winterfell, as he and his old friend pondered and discussed future plans.
They didn't notice that a black raven had flown off the windowsill after their conversation and headed east.
After a while this raven flew as far as the Bay of Traders, and sat on the arm of a young man in expensive purple clothes and with the same colour eyes.
- How amusing. - The brunet smiled. - So our 'young heir' will be called Jon Snow? Heh-heh-heh. That's funny. Though the whole outcome of this company is funny too. We'll have to keep an eye on him. Such matters are not so easily forgotten and have a sequel. Will our northerner really only protect him as 'father' for the rest of his life? Hmm... so many variations of the plot of this epic... It's even hard to imagine, being here, how it will end. Although I won't be here that long...
- Lord Rahl? - His first Mord-Sith, Nyssa, approached him from behind. - According to the captain, we'll be arriving in Aelyria soon.
- That's wonderful! - exclaimed Darken. - That's just great, very soon I'll get what I need here and then we'll sail to another city. True, it's already abandoned... but that's not the main thing right now. Order Boros to be given the hammer I gave him. - The brunet ordered, wanting to arm his newest addition to his retinue, that three metre tall hulk.
- Lord Rahl, may I ask?
- Yes, Nyssa? - He turned to her.
- Is it wise to trust this slave with weapons? He is very strong. And he can...
- No, he can't. Your concern warms my heart, but you need not worry. I have taken every possible measure for his loyalty, and only your loyalty is greater than his now. And it doesn't even have that much to do with his upbringing or the fact that I cured his face of ugliness. You don't have to worry so much.
- I apologise for my impertinence. - bowed to the mord-sith. - May I go to do your bidding?
- Yes. Go, Nyssa.
Miriam.
This woman had once been the strongest warrior of their village. Her homeland was quite ancient with its own rich culture. Miriam didn't grow up in the city and had spent almost most of her life in her village, unless you counted the campaigns she had participated in when she was young.
Her lust for blood, glory, and trophies blinded her for years. She was respected by her warrior sisters, the aristocrats of Saath, the only city of their people to have survived the Dothraki onslaught once upon a time. Various men of her people and beyond vied for her heart. Even the once petty Khal of the Dothraki that saw her once fell madly in love with her and wanted to marry her. It was only after a duel that he fell behind her and cut off his scythe, throwing it at her feet in recognition of her strength and respect.
And so it went on until she met HIM. A simple healer that was in their troop. He wasn't strong, brave, or insanely handsome. He was inconspicuous to others, and was usually only remembered if he needed to heal a wound or inspect plants for their poisonousness. But Miriam noticed him for some reason. And began to look out for him.
At first she told herself that he was weak and needed a watchful eye, because he was the only healer. She tried not to socialise too much with Brausch, that was his name. But she often secretly admired him for some reason. Something in her soul warmed her at those moments.
Days, weeks and even months passed, and eventually Miriam became close to the healer of their squad. He turned out to be quite a friendly fellow and an interesting conversationalist. He knew a lot, was literate and even tried to teach Miriam to read and write. Only she snorted at such suggestions. She is a warrior! And she doesn't need a feather to kill a man, only a weapon. But still, he was able to get her to learn a little about other peoples' cultures and geography through stories of distant lands he'd read about in books.
Time would pass, they would return to their home settlement, live there for a while, he would be by their side. Then after a while a new campaign and he again as a healer went to help them. And one day she realised that she couldn't be away from him and at least not talk to him. She recognised the feeling that many of her sisters in arms denied. She also tried to forget herself in the arms of other men and even women, but the more there were, the more she thought of Brausch. She even at one point nearly vomited on the man beneath her.
The next night after that, she couldn't stand it and roughly grabbed the surprised Brausch by the arm and dragged him to the creek.
When she said that she wished to lie down with him, he only smiled and shook his head in disagreement: "I will lie down only with a woman who will be my consort forever, not for one night. One who will love me as I love her. So forgive me, Miriam, but I refuse to be with you tonight." Those words angered and offended her then. Unable to restrain her strength, she swung round and struck him-or rather, tried to. But he dodged unbeknownst to her. Then she didn't want to stop and threw punches that didn't find their target. On another swing, Brausch ducked under her arm and weakened her to the point where she almost collapsed to the ground, but Brausch intercepted her in time before she fell and held her in his arms, "Don't waste your strength. I'm not your enemy, it's just that I grew up in a different place and was raised differently. I'm sorry if I offended you, but no. Only my wife can beat me." And he laughed heartily. And Miriam at that time became ashamed of her actions. She rested her head on his lap for a few more hours until he fell asleep and her body returned to normal. Then she covered them both with her cloak, and the two of them spent that night in the open air together.
As time passed, she became the one for Brausch after all. He was not angry with her for her past behaviour, he was never angry at all and was unusually kind. Perhaps that was what bought her and those suitors to him until she knocked out a few of their teeth to discourage them "from foolish thoughts." She became his wife and never picked up a gun again after that. Brausch similarly stopped camping with their troop and they lived a peaceful life. Soon they had three children, two sons and one little daughter. All three of her children looked more like their father than their mother, and Miriam was secretly glad of that. After the years that had passed, she had an aversion to steel and blood.
It would seem that this was the beginning of her happy life, but no.
It soon came to an end after a surprise attack by the Dothraki. They burned down her settlement, killed her husband before her eyes, and burned her sons as well. Her daughter did not want to become their prey and stabbed herself to death. Miriam, repelling the attacks of the nomads along with the rest of the warriors, lost the battle and was taken into shameful captivity. She was raped like the last bitch by all the men from those warriors who had sacked their village. The violence against her went on for hours, from dusk to dawn. Most of those captive women and maidens that fell into the hands of the Dothraki just didn't survive it. But she did. Then on the way to the Tabor she was humiliated and raped many more times, in the Tabor she had already been resold to the caravan of a famous merchant. For more than a year she was a simple woman whose will was broken, and gradually she lost her former personality. She had even stopped resisting when the caravan master took her into his bed and obediently did whatever he said. She was just tired.
She had thought about suicide, but for some reason, she didn't know why, she didn't do it.
And then her life took a sharp turn in a town called Tolos. There she met a young boy, with an unusual appearance and a look that reminded her of Brausch, who asked her something. She was not eager to chat with this child. But he was interested in her. She no longer cared what happened to her next.
But, as said before, her fate had changed abruptly. The boy had bought both her and the thug that was in the same caravan. And when the three of them were alone together, he used magic, something Miriam had only seen once and glimpsed from an old woman in their village when she was a child. He healed the bulky man in almost no time, then gave him a name and offered to serve him as a warrior. And then, when the man nodded after a brief thought, Darken turned his attention to her as well. As soon as he approached her and held her face in the palm of his hand, she immediately remembered the palms of her eldest son, who had already died. At the same moment, tears sprang from the corners of her eyes, which she could not stop. The storm in her heart didn't stop until Darken spoke:
- You shouldn't cry. I don't know what happened to you, but there is always a way out and a reason to move on. Have you been insulted and dishonoured by the Dothraki? They've brought misery and grief to many. It's sad, and I'm sorry you lost someone then. And I am sorry that no doubt a warrior with experience in the past is now on her knees weeping from old wounds, not so much bodily as mental. But I want to help you, believe me! Become again the warrior you once were. Take up arms, and I give you my word that one day you will be able to take revenge on those who did this to you.
At that moment, the red-haired woman's old instincts swelled again: bloodlust and death. It was no longer the eyes of a slave girl from the north that looked out at the world, but Miriam of Fire, as she had once been nicknamed.
And now, standing not far from the ship that had already docked, waiting for her master, she was tidying the two swords she had been given. She wondered when she would get the chance to kill the first Dothraki in a year and a half. With each passing day and each conversation with Darken Rahl, whom she had already recognised as her lord, she felt more and more of the rage and anger that sought to bring her out of herself, to make her want to go the way of pouring blood on her blades.
- Miriam! - Rhys called out to her, happy to be back all alone but joyful.
- Yes, Rhys," she smiled warmly and sincerely at him.
- Come on, Darken wants to see you. We've found you a nice suit of armour. We just need to take your measurements and have it fitted to you.
- But I don't need armour, and it's expensive and--
- Come on! - he grabbed her arm and dragged her into the city.
Miriam had no choice but to obey. She smiled and remembered her second son, who was just as restless. She was beginning to feel as if she had regained her sons and even her daughter in the person of the sullen Nyssa, though she was neither in character nor in appearance like her little one.
- Life goes on..." the red-haired warrior murmured and quickened her pace.
Darken Rahl.
This city did not disappoint me. It was indeed a city of sailors who did not mind serving another city, master or ruler. It's all about payment and satisfying their baser goods.
So far, I have limited myself to only twenty sailors and another dozen mercenaries from Westeros. The mercenaries are quite clever and experienced by the looks of them. They served once, or rather until recently, in the army of King Aerys II the Mad. But since he has already been killed by his own guard, Jaime Lanister, and there are no legitimate heirs alive (no one knows much about Aegon), not everyone wants to swear in the new ruler Robert Baratheon as their king. Many noble lords, and even simple knights of the border, and even soldiers who did not find themselves there, went either to the Wall or to the mercenary trade. This dozen were just that, sword knights and veterans who had travelled east with them. Today was their first day in Aelyria. But I didn't scrimp and decided to still hire them at a high price.
Also after that, I went to some shops that sold rare herbs and scrolls. I was especially interested in the map of Westeros and Essos. I had a map that I bought in Tolos, but it was quite old, and here I found two new ones, well, relatively. After all, I need them for one quest ritual.
And lastly, I went to the armour shops, where I decided to find Boros and Miriam armour or their equivalents. Nothing fit Boros except for a helmet. I'll have to forge him some armour later. Miriam was easier. She found an armour that was half finished. The measurements were taken pretty quickly, and the full armour will be ready in about four days. So we're going to be here for a while.
And as soon as I entered my quarters, I began the ritual.
Spread out a map of Westeros on the table and began to flatten it out, for that was where my search spells from my parents had signalled to me. The old way from my world was proving ineffective here. Although most of the spells and principles are the same in terms of magic, there are still some differences. So I resorted to a more ancient and forgotten method, though it will not give specifics. Only the location at the moment.
Having levelled the map, I drew several pentagrams around it and lit eight candles.
With a dagger I cut a vein in my left arm, let my blood drain into a specially prepared bowl. Enchanted it, and then poured half of it onto the map. After a couple of moments, the blood condensed into a single scarlet ball that rolled to a certain place. The very place where "my mother" lived was the Sea Frontier.
That's so funny. So I'm half-Vellarion? This ancient Valyrian family was often related to the Targaryens, they honoured the traditions of their ancestors, and incest was just as normal for them. I wonder which of the women of this island is my mother. I especially haven't delved into genealogy and kinship in Westeros, but now I think I should.
- Well, now for the "father"....
The second ball that formed went to Dorne. Quite an interesting arrangement. Right now, though, it's on the shores of the Dornish Sea, so it's hard to tell what house or place my dad is from. Though knowing the stories about the Dornish, I could very well be the same bastard, as disgusting as that sounds. Oh, and besides, I'm a bit tense about my birth story and how I ended up in Tolos?
Why would the child of a noble maiden from an ancient family end up in a city located in the Bay of Essos' Slave Traders? And a petty beggar at that! I am attracted to complex tasks, but this one is starting to annoy and even offend me.
If they have decided I am a burden to them, or if they are unscrupulous parents, then when I come to Westeros, I will collect their debt.
But for now, let's put the matter in the back of our minds. I need to check my mail. New reports are always good, and I think I know how to keep the Free Cities and Braavos occupied so they don't take their mercenaries further east. We just need to bribe some people and blackmail them a little. And a new war will break out in the Disputed Lands between Mir, Lys and Tyrosh. Pentos will apparently join in on the side of Peace, and Braavos will play his interests on both sides of the conflict, though there will be three. Too bad Quokhor is too far away from them and not as interested in war as the same Volantis.
By the way, I learnt some rather useful information.
The world has lost the secret of making Valyrian steel, but there are three craftsmen in Essos who know how to forge this material. Two of them now reside in Quochor, and one in Volantis.
It's hard to say if they only know the art of re-forging it, or if they secretly keep the secrets of making it as well. But at any rate, I'll try to learn the secret from them. I will send my "birds" to begin with, and if they do not succeed, I will meet each of them in person, and then I will proceed in another way.
It took three days instead of four, as the master said, to finish the armour for Miriam.
And after that we were on our way to Bhorash. It's worth seeing that mysterious skull in the catacombs ...
To be continued...
每周推薦票狀態
-- 推薦票
榜單 
-- 推薦票