“Beans pulled a blade and proposed a wager2 to determine if deserters had bellies3 full of yellow slime,” Ser Gerris reported, “so I tossed him a dragon and asked if yellow gold would do. He bit the coin and asked what I meant to buy. When I told him he slipped the knife away and asked if I was drunk or mad.”
“Let him think what he wants, so long as he delivers the message,” said Quentyn.
“He’ll do that much. I’ll wager you get your meeting too, if only so Rags can have Pretty Meris cut your liver out and fry it up with onions. We should be heeding4 Selmy. When Barristan the Bold tells you to run, a wise man laces up his boots. We should find a ship for Volantis whilst the port is still open.”
Just the mention turned Ser Archibald’s cheeks green. “No more ships. I’d sooner hop6 back to Volantis on one foot.”
Volantis, Quentyn thought. Then Lys, then home. Back the way I came, empty-handed. Three brave men dead, for what?
It would be sweet to see the Greenblood again, to visit Sunspear and the Water Gardens and breathe the clean sweet mountain air of Yronwood in place of the hot, wet, filthy7 humors of Slaver’s Bay. His father would speak no word of rebuke8, Quentyn knew, but the disappointment would be there in his eyes. His sister would be scornful, the Sand Snakes would mock him with smiles sharp as swords, and Lord Yronwood, his second father, who had sent his own son along to keep him safe …
“I will not keep you here,” Quentyn told his friends. “My father laid this task on me, not you. Go home, if that is what you want. By whatever means you like. I am staying.”
The big man shrugged9. “Then Drink and me are staying too.”
The next night, Denzo D’han turned up at Prince Quentyn’s door to talk terms. “He will meet with you on the morrow, by the spice market. Look for a door marked with a purple lotus. Knock twice and call for freedom.”
“Agreed,” said Quentyn. “Arch and Gerris will be with me. He can bring two men as well. No more.”
“If it please my prince.” The words were polite enough, but Denzo’s tone was edged with malice11, and the eyes of the warrior12 poet gleamed bright with mockery. “Come at sunset. And see that you are not followed.”
The Dornishmen left the Great Pyramid an hour shy of sunset in case they took a wrong turn or had difficulty finding the purple lotus. Quentyn and Gerris wore their sword belts. The big man had his warhammer slung14 across his broad back.
“It is still not too late to abandon this folly,” Gerris said, as they made their way down a foetid alley15 toward the old spice market. The smell of piss was in the air, and they could hear the rumble16 of a corpse17 cart’s iron-rimmed wheels off ahead. “Old Bill Bone used to say that Pretty Maris could stretch out a man’s dying for a moon’s turn. We lied to them, Quent. Used them to get us here, then went over to the Stormcrows.”
“As we were commanded.”
“Tatters never meant for us to do it for real, though,” put in the big man. “His other boys, Ser Orson and Dick Straw, Hungerford, Will of the Woods, that lot, they’re still down in some dungeon18 thanks to us. Old Rags can’t have liked that much.”
“No,” Prince Quentyn said, “but he likes gold.”
Gerris laughed. “A pity we have none. Do you trust this peace, Quent? I don’t. Half the city is calling the dragonslayer a hero, and the other half spits blood at the mention of his name.”
“Harzoo,” the big man said.
Quentyn frowned. “His name was Harghaz.”
“Hizdahr, Humzum, Hagnag, what does it matter? I call them all Harzoo. He was no dragonslayer. All he did was get his arse roasted black and crispy.”
“He was brave.” Would I have the courage to face that monster with nothing but a spear?
“He died bravely, is what you mean.”
“He died screaming,” said Arch.
Gerris put a hand on Quentyn’s shoulder. “Even if the queen returns, she’ll still be married.”
“Not if I give King Harzoo a little smack19 with my hammer,” suggested the big man.
“Hizdahr,” said Quentyn. “His name is Hizdahr.”
“One kiss from my hammer and no one will care what his name was,” said Arch.
They do not see. His friends had lost sight of his true purpose here. The road leads through her, not to her. Daenerys is the means to the prize, not the prize itself. “ ‘The dragon has three heads,’ she said to me. ‘My marriage need not be the end of all your hopes,’ she said. ‘I know why you are here. For fire and blood.’ I have Targaryen blood in me, you know that. I can trace my lineage back—”
“Fuck your lineage,” said Gerris. “The dragons won’t care about your blood, except maybe how it tastes. You cannot tame a dragon with a history lesson. They’re monsters, not maesters. Quent, is this truly what you want to do?”
“This is what I have to do. For Dorne. For my father. For Cletus and Will and Maester Kedry.”
“They’re dead,” said Gerris. “They won’t care.”
“All dead,” Quentyn agreed. “For what? To bring me here, so I might wed13 the dragon queen. A grand adventure, Cletus called it. Demon20 roads and stormy seas, and at the end of it the most beautiful woman in the world. A tale to tell our grandchildren. But Cletus will never father a child, unless he left a bastard21 in the belly22 of that tavern23 wench he liked. Will will never have his wedding. Their deaths should have some meaning.”
Gerris pointed24 to where a corpse slumped25 against a brick wall, attended by a cloud of glistening26 green flies. “Did his death have meaning?”
Quentyn looked at the body with distaste. “He died of the flux27. Stay well away from him.” The pale mare28 was inside the city walls. Small wonder that the streets seemed so empty. “The Unsullied will send a corpse cart for him.”
“No doubt. But that was not my question. Men’s lives have meaning, not their deaths. I loved Will and Cletus too, but this will not bring them back to us. This is a mistake, Quent. You cannot trust in sellswords.”
“They are men like any other men. They want gold, glory, power. That’s all I am trusting in.” That, and my own destiny. I am a prince of Dorne, and the blood of dragons is in my veins29.
The sun had sunk below the city wall by the time they found the purple lotus, painted on the weathered wooden door of a low brick hovel squatting30 amidst a row of similar hovels in the shadow of the great yellow-and-green pyramid of Rhazdar. Quentyn knocked twice, as instructed. A gruff voice answered through the door, growling31 something unintelligible32 in the mongrel tongue of Slaver’s Bay, an ugly blend of Old Ghiscari and High Valyrian. The prince answered in the same tongue. “Freedom.”
The door opened. Gerris entered first, for caution’s sake, with Quentyn close behind him and the big man bringing up the rear. Within, the air was hazy33 with bluish smoke, whose sweet smell could not quite cover up the deeper stinks34 of piss and sour wine and rotting meat. The space was much larger than it had seemed from without, stretching off to right and left into the adjoining hovels. What had appeared to be a dozen structures from the street turned into one long hall inside.
At this hour the house was less than half full. A few of the patrons favored the Dornishmen with looks bored or hostile or curious. The rest were crowded around the pit at the far end of the room, where a pair of naked men were slashing35 at each other with knives whilst the watchers cheered them on.
Quentyn saw no sign of the men they had come to meet. Then a door he had not seen before swung open, and an old woman emerged, a shriveled thing in a dark red tokar fringed with tiny golden skulls36. Her skin was white as mare’s milk, her hair so thin that he could see the scalp beneath. “Dorne,” she said, “I be Zahrina. Purple Lotus. Go down here, you find them.” She held the door and gestured them through.
Beyond was a flight of wooden steps, steep and twisting. This time the big man led the way and Gerris was the rear guard, with the prince between them. An undercellar. It was a long way down, and so dark that Quentyn had to feel his way to keep from slipping. Near the bottom Ser Archibald pulled his dagger37.
They emerged in a brick vault38 thrice the size of the winesink above. Huge wooden vats39 lined the walls as far as the prince could see. A red lantern hung on a hook just inside the door, and a greasy40 black candle flickered41 on an overturned barrel serving as a table. That was the only light.
Caggo Corpsekiller was pacing by the wine vats, his black arakh hanging at his hip5. Pretty Meris stood cradling a crossbow, her eyes as cold and dead as two grey stones. Denzo D’han barred the door once the Dornishmen were inside, then took up a position in front of it, arms crossed against his chest.
One too many, Quentyn thought.
The Tattered42 Prince himself was seated at the table, nursing a cup of wine. In the yellow candlelight his silver-grey hair seemed almost golden, though the pouches43 underneath44 his eyes were etched as large as saddlebags. He wore a brown wool traveler’s cloak, with silvery chain mail glimmering45 underneath. Did that betoken46 treachery or simple prudence47? An old sellsword is a cautious sellsword. Quentyn approached his table. “My lord. You look different without your cloak.”
“My ragged48 raiment?” The Pentoshi gave a shrug10. “A poor thing … yet those tatters fill my foes49 with fear, and on the battlefield the sight of my rags blowing in the wind emboldens50 my men more than any banner. And if I want to move unseen, I need only slip it off to become plain and unremarkable.” He gestured at the bench across from him. “Sit. I understand you are a prince. Would that I had known. Will you drink? Zahrina offers food as well. Her bread is stale and her stew51 is unspeakable. Grease and salt, with a morsel52 or two of meat. Dog, she says, but I think rat is more likely. It will not kill you, though. I have found that it is only when the food is tempting53 that one must beware. Poisoners invariably choose the choicest dishes.”
“You brought three men,” Ser Gerris pointed out, with an edge in his voice. “We agreed on two apiece.”
“Meris is no man. Meris, sweet, undo54 your shirt, show him.”
“That will not be necessary,” said Quentyn. If the talk he had heard was true, beneath that shirt Pretty Meris had only the scars left by the men who’d cut her breasts off. “Meris is a woman, I agree. You’ve still twisted the terms.”
“Tattered and twisty, what a rogue55 I am. Three to two is not much of an advantage, it must be admitted, but it counts for something. In this world, a man must learn to seize whatever gifts the gods chose to send him. That was a lesson I learned at some cost. I offer it to you as a sign of my good faith.” He gestured at the chair again. “Sit, and say what you came to say. I promise not to have you killed until I have heard you out. That is the least I can do for a fellow prince. Quentyn, is it?”
“Quentyn of House Martell.”
“Frog suits you better. It is not my custom to drink with liars56 and deserters, but you’ve made me curious.”
Quentyn sat. One wrong word, and this could turn to blood in half a heartbeat. “I ask your pardon for our deception58. The only ships sailing for Slaver’s Bay were those that had been hired to bring you to the wars.”
The Tattered Prince gave a shrug. “Every turncloak has his tale. You are not the first to swear me your swords, take my coin, and run. All of them have reasons. ‘My little son is sick,’ or ‘My wife is putting horns on me,’ or ‘The other men all make me suck their cocks.’ Such a charming boy, the last, but I did not excuse his desertion. Another fellow told me our food was so wretched that he had to flee before it made him sick, so I had his foot cut off, roasted it up, and fed it to him. Then I made him our camp cook. Our meals improved markedly, and when his contract was fulfilled he signed another. You, though … several of my best are locked up in the queen’s dungeons60 thanks to that lying tongue of yours, and I doubt that you can even cook.”
“I am a prince of Dorne,” said Quentyn. “I had a duty to my father and my people. There was a secret marriage pact61.”
“So I heard. And when the silver queen saw your scrap62 of parchment she fell into your arms, yes?”
“No,” said Pretty Meris.
“No? Oh, I recall. Your bride flew off on a dragon. Well, when she returns, do be sure to invite us to your nuptials63. The men of the company would love to drink to your happiness, and I do love a Westerosi wedding. The bedding part especially, only … oh, wait …” He turned to Denzo D’han. “Denzo, I thought you told me that the dragon queen had married some Ghiscari.”
“A Meereenese nobleman. Rich.”
The Tattered Prince turned back to Quentyn. “Could that be true? Surely not. What of your marriage pact?”
“She laughed at him,” said Pretty Meris.
Daenerys never laughed. The rest of Meereen might see him as an amusing curiosity, like the exiled Summer Islander King Robert used to keep at King’s Landing, but the queen had always spoken to him gently. “We came too late,” said Quentyn.
“A pity you did not desert me sooner.” The Tattered Prince sipped64 at his wine. “So … no wedding for Prince Frog. Is that why you’ve come hopping66 back to me? Have my three brave Dornish lads decided67 to honor their contracts?”
“No.”
“How vexing68.”
“Yurkhaz zo Yunzak is dead.”
“Ancient tidings. I saw him die. The poor man saw a dragon and stumbled as he tried to flee. Then a thousand of his closest friends stepped on him. No doubt the Yellow City is awash in tears. Did you ask me here to toast his memory?”
“No. Have the Yunkishmen chosen a new commander?”
“The council of masters has been unable to agree. Yezzan zo Qaggaz had the most support, but now he’s died as well. The Wise Masters are rotating the supreme69 command amongst themselves. Today our leader is the one your friends in the ranks dubbed70 the Drunken Conqueror71. On the morrow, it will be Lord Wobblecheeks.”
“The Rabbit,” said Meris. “Wobblecheeks was yesterday.”
“I stand corrected, my sweetling. Our Yunkish friends were kind enough to provide us with a chart. I must strive to be more assiduous about consulting it.”
“Yurkhaz zo Yunzak was the man who hired you.”
“He signed our contract on behalf of his city. Just so.”
“Meereen and Yunkai have made peace. The siege is to be lifted, the armies disbanded. There will be no battle, no slaughter72, no city to sack and plunder73.”
“Life is full of disappointments.”
“How long do you think the Yunkishmen will want to continue paying wages to four free companies?”
The Tattered Prince took a sip65 of wine and said, “A vexing question. But this is the way of life for we men of the free companies. One war ends, another begins. Fortunately there is always someone fighting someone somewhere. Perhaps here. Even as we sit here drinking Bloodbeard is urging our Yunkish friends to present King Hizdahr with another head. Freedmen and slavers eye each other’s necks and sharpen their knives, the Sons of the Harpy plot in their pyramids, the pale mare rides down slave and lord alike, our friends from the Yellow City gaze out to sea, and somewhere in the grasslands74 a dragon nibbles75 the tender flesh of Daenerys Targaryen. Who rules Meereen tonight? Who will rule it on the morrow?” The Pentoshi gave a shrug. “One thing I am certain of. Someone will have need of our swords.”
“I have need of those swords. Dorne will hire you.”
The Tattered Prince glanced at Pretty Meris. “He does not lack for gall76, this Frog. Must I remind him? My dear prince, the last contract we signed you used to wipe your pretty pink bottom.”
“I will double whatever the Yunkishmen are paying you.”
“And pay in gold upon the signing of our contract, yes?”
“I will pay you part when we reach Volantis, the rest when I am back in Sunspear. We brought gold with us when we set sail, but it would have been hard to conceal77 once we joined the company, so we gave it over to the banks. I can show you papers.”
“Ah. Papers. But we will be paid double.”
“Twice as many papers,” said Pretty Meris.
“The rest you’ll have in Dorne,” Quentyn insisted. “My father is a man of honor. If I put my seal to an agreement, he will fulfill59 its terms. You have my word on that.”
The Tattered Prince finished his wine, turned the cup over, and set it down between them. “So. Let me see if I understand. A proven liar57 and oathbreaker wishes to contract with us and pay in promises. And for what services? I wonder. Are my Windblown to smash the Yunkai’i and sack the Yellow City? Defeat a Dothraki khalasar in the field? Escort you home to your father? Or will you be content if we deliver Queen Daenerys to your bed wet and willing? Tell me true, Prince Frog. What would you have of me and mine?”
“I need you to help me steal a dragon.”
Caggo Corpsekiller chuckled78. Pretty Meris curled her lip in a half-smile. Denzo D’han whistled.
The Tattered Prince only leaned back on his stool and said, “Double does not pay for dragons, princeling. Even a frog should know that much. Dragons come dear. And men who pay in promises should have at least the sense to promise more.”
“If you want me to triple—”
“What I want,” said the Tattered Prince, “is Pentos.”
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1
savory
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| adj.风味极佳的，可口的，味香的 | |
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wager
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| n.赌注；vt.押注，打赌 | |
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bellies
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| n.肚子( belly的名词复数 )；腹部；（物体的）圆形或凸起部份；腹部…形的 | |
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4
heeding
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| v.听某人的劝告，听从( heed的现在分词 ) | |
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hip
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| n.臀部，髋；屋脊 | |
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hop
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| n.单脚跳，跳跃；vi.单脚跳，跳跃；着手做某事；vt.跳跃，跃过 | |
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filthy
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| adj.卑劣的；恶劣的，肮脏的 | |
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rebuke
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| v.指责，非难，斥责 [反]praise | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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shrug
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| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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warrior
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| n.勇士，武士，斗士 | |
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wed
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| v.娶，嫁，与…结婚 | |
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slung
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| 抛( sling的过去式和过去分词 )； 吊挂； 遣送； 押往 | |
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alley
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| n.小巷，胡同；小径，小路 | |
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rumble
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| n.隆隆声；吵嚷；v.隆隆响；低沉地说 | |
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corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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dungeon
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| n.地牢，土牢 | |
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smack
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| vt.拍，打，掴；咂嘴；vi.含有…意味；n.拍 | |
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demon
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| n.魔鬼，恶魔 | |
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bastard
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| n.坏蛋，混蛋；私生子 | |
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belly
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| n.肚子，腹部；(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分，膛 | |
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tavern
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| n.小旅馆，客栈；小酒店 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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slumped
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| 大幅度下降，暴跌( slump的过去式和过去分词 )； 沉重或突然地落下[倒下] | |
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glistening
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flux
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| n.流动；不断的改变 | |
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mare
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| n.母马，母驴 | |
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veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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squatting
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| v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的现在分词 )；非法擅自占用（土地或房屋）；为获得其所有权；而占用某片公共用地。 | |
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growling
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| n.吠声, 咆哮声 v.怒吠, 咆哮, 吼 | |
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unintelligible
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| adj.无法了解的，难解的，莫明其妙的 | |
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hazy
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stinks
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| v.散发出恶臭( stink的第三人称单数 )；发臭味；名声臭；糟透 | |
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slashing
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| adj.尖锐的；苛刻的；鲜明的；乱砍的v.挥砍( slash的现在分词 )；鞭打；割破；削减 | |
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skulls
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| 颅骨( skull的名词复数 )； 脑袋； 脑子； 脑瓜 | |
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dagger
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| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
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vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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vats
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| varieties 变化，多样性，种类 | |
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greasy
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| adj. 多脂的，油脂的 | |
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flickered
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| （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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tattered
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| adj.破旧的，衣衫破的 | |
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pouches
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| n.（放在衣袋里或连在腰带上的）小袋( pouch的名词复数 )；（袋鼠等的）育儿袋；邮袋；（某些动物贮存食物的）颊袋 | |
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underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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45
glimmering
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| n.微光，隐约的一瞥adj.薄弱地发光的v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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betoken
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| v.预示 | |
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prudence
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| n.谨慎，精明，节俭 | |
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ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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49
foes
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| 敌人，仇敌( foe的名词复数 ) | |
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50
emboldens
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| v.鼓励，使有胆量( embolden的第三人称单数 ) | |
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51
stew
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| n.炖汤，焖，烦恼；v.炖汤，焖，忧虑 | |
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52
morsel
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| n.一口，一点点 | |
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tempting
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| a.诱人的, 吸引人的 | |
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54
undo
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| vt.解开，松开；取消，撤销 | |
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55
rogue
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| n.流氓；v.游手好闲 | |
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liars
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| 说谎者( liar的名词复数 ) | |
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liar
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| n.说谎的人 | |
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deception
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| n.欺骗，欺诈；骗局，诡计 | |
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fulfill
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| vt.履行，实现，完成；满足，使满意 | |
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dungeons
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| n.地牢( dungeon的名词复数 ) | |
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pact
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| n.合同，条约，公约，协定 | |
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scrap
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| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
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nuptials
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| n.婚礼；婚礼( nuptial的名词复数 ) | |
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sipped
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| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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sip
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| v.小口地喝，抿，呷；n.一小口的量 | |
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hopping
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| n. 跳跃 动词hop的现在分词形式 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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vexing
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| adj.使人烦恼的，使人恼火的v.使烦恼( vex的现在分词 )；使苦恼；使生气；详细讨论 | |
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supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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dubbed
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| v.给…起绰号( dub的过去式和过去分词 )；把…称为；配音；复制 | |
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conqueror
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| n.征服者，胜利者 | |
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slaughter
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| n.屠杀，屠宰；vt.屠杀，宰杀 | |
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plunder
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| vt.劫掠财物，掠夺；n.劫掠物，赃物；劫掠 | |
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grasslands
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| n.草原，牧场( grassland的名词复数 ) | |
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nibbles
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| vt.& vi.啃，一点一点地咬（nibble的第三人称单数形式） | |
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gall
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| v.使烦恼，使焦躁，难堪；n.磨难 | |
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conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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