The Eminence in GOT-Chapter 52: Legends come true

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***

The third day of the second month of the year 299 A.D.

Castle Osgiliath, Valley of the Sunflame, Dorne.

«Isn't there anything you want to tell us, Father? - The bald-headed girl asked with her arms crossed over her chest.

The five of us were gathered in the very office where we had been dealing with business yesterday, which was the most isolated and safe place in the castle. Me, Eilis, Alaric, Fiora, and Dontos, standing guard at the door with his two wargs.

The main reason for the gathering, a small black lizard, was nestled comfortably on a cushion on my desk, snoozing peacefully with the occasional trickle of hot steam escaping its nostrils.

Only a few hours had passed since the incident. As soon as Fiora emerged from the flames and the dimensionless cloaks were thrown over her and the dragon, the Guardsmen were given their first order. Along with the isolation of the affected part of the castle, all servants who had seen the dragon were to be taken into custody and not allowed to contact the others under any pretext. I didn't worry about the guards themselves - their training course was such that they learned to keep their mouths shut in the first place.

After that it was necessary to extinguish the fire, as if it had become weaker when the dragon left it, to calm the castle inhabitants, to check how Tristan and Nymeria were doing, thank all gods they were on the other side of the castle and, even in theory, had not heard the cry of the "newborn". It was only then that all the members of the Temper and Hollard family present in Osgiliath were gathered in this office, both the captain of the guard and the one who was completely loyal to me personally.

«I don't even know where to begin..." I sighed tiredly, trying to gather my thoughts. Of course, I'd known about Daenerys's title since Earth, Mother of Dragons, but with Viserys alive (though recently reported long dead), the chance of Rainis becoming the owner of another dragon was almost nil.

«I know. - Fiora said irritably, moving away from her calm and quiet nature. Though if you notice her fingertips trembling and her foot tapping nervously on the chair leg, it's clear - she's on the verge of hysterics right now. - Can you explain why I, as some dragon, did not burn in the flames, my strange mania for that dragon egg and the reason why I hatched a dragon at all?! I'm not some Targaryen!

«That's where you're wrong. - Eilis's soft voice and her words hit the audience like a hammer on the head. - Darling, it's time to tell her. - She turned to me and gently took her foster daughter's hand.

«You're right. - I said grudgingly, though I really didn't want to. It was hard to tell the girl that her family was long dead, and she had been stolen, taken through some murky magic ritual, and raised by strangers instead of relatives who lived not far away, but I had no choice. - Fiora, you're not our real daughter.

«I'm well aware of that. - She frowned, though in the depths of her yellow eyes I saw understanding and some childish reluctance to hear further truth. - I am your bastard from a woman in Quarth who died of illness many years ago.

«No, dear. - Eilis signaled with a look that he should move closer to Fiora and help her calm down a little, and continued. - You don't have my blood in your veins. Your bloodline is a combination of much older dynasties. The first half is the blood of the Lords of Dorne who have ruled these lands since the days of Nymeria, and the other half is the blood of the Dragonlords who have ruled Westeros for the last three centuries. You are the daughter of Elia Nimeros Martell and Rhaegar Targaryen, the Last Dragon.

To say that my words had the effect of a bomb exploding in a TNT warehouse was a clear understatement. And while Dontos' jaw dropped and his eyes bulged with disbelief, Alaric and Fiora looked at me like I was mentally ill.

«I know it's hard to believe, but it's true. - I said, preparing myself for a long and tedious story. - It all began twenty years ago, after the Twilight Dome Rising, when there was a wedding between two representatives of the great houses....

It took a long time to tell the story of the royal wedding, the Harrenhal Tournament, the tension in the country that had resulted in the Baratheon Rebellion, and the death of the royal dynasty. In addition to the dry facts, I had to explain the background of my actions, the political alliances and arrangements in place at the time, the relationships between the Great Houses and individuals such as the Old Lion and the Mad King. In general, about what in the history books maesters prudently do not write about, trying to maintain neutrality. And still, even after two hours of uninterrupted narration, many questions were never asked or addressed.

For example, the question of family...

«Why didn't you give me to Prince Doran after you returned from Meereen? - Fiora asked me, who was no longer shaking so badly and could more or less hold herself together. - Why did he keep me and not return me to my blood relatives?

«There are many reasons, from the changes in your appearance and the unstable situation in the kingdom, to your personal well-being. - I answered, taking a sip of some old brandy stored in a secret drawer of the table. A glass of the same drink was in front of everyone present, except for Hollard, who was standing guard, showing how hard this conversation was for each of us.

«Personal well-being? - Fiora raised the part of her face where her eyebrow used to be, perplexed.

«Doran wasn't himself at the time. - I said tiredly. - His thoughts were all about revenge for his sister and nephews. Yes and Leawen was always wandering nearby, all the while agitating him for a new war and revenge for broken promises. If Jon Arryn hadn't offered him those terms then, or if he'd had one of the Targaryens in his hands--" An expressive look was thrown at his daughter. -If Jon Arryn hadn't offered him those terms, or if he'd held one of the Targaryens in his hands... then the Seven Kingdoms would have had a new Dornish War to follow the Rebellion, and it's not certain they'd have emerged victorious. And your uncle had time to make a mess of things by arranging his daughter's betrothal to Viserys through Willem Darry.

The eyebrows of most of those present went up. Even Eilis didn't know about this, for I received this information from the Sun Spear only recently.

«Why do you think Princess Arianna, despite being in her third decade, is still single? - I asked, tapping my finger on the table. - I was curious about that too, so several Shadows were sent to look into the matter. And recently the result was that a copy of Doran's correspondence with Willem Darry, the former Master of Arms of the Red Castle and the one who used to raise the Mad King's younger offspring when they lived in Braavos, was found in the possession of the recently deceased Maester of the Sun Spear. They arranged an engagement between Viserys and Arianna, on the condition that when the banished prince gathers an army in Essos and invades Westeros, the Dornish will support him and Arianna will be the future queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Not a bad move, though a very risky one, but it's all over because of the crowning of the Beggar King with a golden crown. Now you see why I didn't want to give you to Doran?

«Y-yes..." Fiora replied with a slight stutter.

In the end, having answered most of these questions and having finally calmed down the girl who had relaxed under the influence of alcohol and mother's embrace, we came to the main question of the day.

What to do next?

- Killing the dragon was not an option. - Looking at the still sleeping lizard, I began, noticing how my words slightly twitched Fiora. - First of all, I have no idea how it would affect you, daughter, because according to the chronicles of Valyria and the Targaryens, some dragonriders quickly wither and die after their dragons die. So I'm not going to risk you. - I nodded to the smiling and slightly relaxed girl. - And secondly, only a complete idiot who doesn't have the imagination to find a use for a unique resource could destroy it so ineptly and stupidly. What do not say, but to have a legendary monster in their hands is worth a lot. And I won't be able to get my hands on one of the last legacies of ancient Valyria.

Judging by the approving nods, everyone here agreed with me.

«But the question still remains, what do we do next? The Martells won't forgive me for hiding you, Fiora, and most of the lords of Westeros, once they know who you are and that you have a dragon, however small, will be lining up for your head. - I continued, pacing nervously around the office and mentally considering my options. And one of them looked very tempting... - And your dragon... well, we should call it something, because the word "dragon" makes my tongue hurt. Do you have any ideas, Fir?

«N-no..." The Targaryen native was stunned at the abrupt change, looking at the lizard as it continued to sleep. - I haven't even thought about it.

«All right, we've forgotten. - Covering my eyes and rubbing the bridge of my nose, I replied. - One way or another we need to hide you. I don't know as much about dragons and magic as Marvin, but I know some facts. First, dragons don't grow in captivity. If we want a true lord of the sky, not a little freak the size of a dog like the last royal dragon, we have to let him fly and hunt. So locking him in a castle or in the catacombs is not an option. Secondly, to live and keep control over him, you, Fiora, must stay by his side like a mother raising her own child.

«And that means-" Alaric finished my thought as I moistened my throat once more. - ... you can't stay in Westeros, sister.

"I raised my children well," I thought, looking at my son with undisguised pride.

It was a point of the Seven Kingdoms' mentality that had always irritated me, causing me to gnash my teeth involuntarily. The fanatical attachment to the family name. The locals honored their family, so much so that often children raised in a foreign family, not knowing their position at all, would do all sorts of crazy things if they knew they originally had a different surname. Thus, the Fisher family, the first kings of the Trident, was interrupted when their child, raised by them since infancy, opened the castle gates of the Durrandon army when he learned that he was the illegitimate son of one of their vassals. The boy eventually suffered the unenviable fate of being ambushed by the surviving Fisher vassals a few years later and hanged as a traitor from his own entrails. But the example was still obvious.

And there are many such stories. If memory serves me correctly, one of the Stark servants would soon be given the very sonorous nickname of Shifter. Too bad I couldn't remember who. At least, that was the only way to interpret the entry "Starks -> Shifter?". After all, I had forgotten everything about the series long ago, and could only rely on old notes from when I was younger.

So the fact that Alaric continued to consider Fiora his sister warmed my soul. I would have to have a private conversation with her later and find out how she felt about me and the rest of the family. Or better yet, ask Eilis - after all, she'll be much more open with her mother than with her father.

«You make a good point. - I continued, quickly snapping out of my thoughts. - She can't stay on the continent, but she can't just send her to Essos. There are too many Iron Throne agents out there looking for your "aunt," Daenerys Targaryen.

I had actually thought of a place to send Fiora a long time ago, but only Eilis and I knew about it. I wasn't too eager to tell you about this place, but I would have to. There was too much at stake and not wanting to have a couple of personal cards up my sleeve wasn't worth it.

«Unfortunately, you can't go to the Summer Isles or Ibben. Though there are no spies of Varys and his kind there, there are merchants and travelers. So rumors of a large, flying, and hopefully fire-breathing lizard will reach here someday. There's only one option left. - I said, taking the most detailed map of western Planethos out of the closet and spreading it out on the table and jabbing my finger at the piece of land in the middle at the bottom. - Sotorios.

In response to my statement, the children and Dontos looked at me as if I had lost my mind. Only in my wife's eyes did I see understanding and approval.

«But, Father... It's suicide. - Alaric said, looking at me uncertainly.

In a way, he was right. Sothorios itself is a large continent, its exact dimensions still unknown, lying southeast of Westeros and south of Essos, on the other side of the Summer Sea. If ancient records are to be believed, five thousand years ago, at the height of their empire, the Giscarians established settlements on its northern shores. They built the fortified city of Zamettar at the mouth of the huge Zamoyos River, as wide and full as the Rojna, and the colony of Gorosh on Cape Wyverny, serving as a penal colony and place of exile for rampaging slaves and captured soldiers. After the decline of Gis, it was taken over by the Valyrian Republic, which tried and failed three times to settle there.

Now Zamettar, Gorgai, Yin and Gorosh, the only cities on Sothorios, are long abandoned and forgotten, and the only major settlement, the Mena Shore, located on the Claw Isle, is just a haven for pirates, where they sell and keep slaves captured on Naath and the Summer Isles. And the unique inhabitants of this continent are to blame.

Sothorios and its northern region, the eloquently named Green Hell, have for centuries been home to the Spotted People, dangerous and savage cannibals who do not negotiate and are only capable of violence. They were the cause of the destruction of one of Valyria's colonies, breaking into the still unfortified city and eating all of its inhabitants. Very dangerous creatures, which, judging by the inability to have common offspring with other peoples, could not even be called humans.

The second scourge of the local colonists was the unique fauna of the local jungle. Wyverns, more like small dragons, poisonous basilisks, capable of growing larger than mountain lions, thirty-meter snakes that swallow their victims whole, giant crocodiles, fighting monkeys, piranhas, colored lizards, spotted spiders, carnivorous flies and many, many others... This mixture of Amazonian jungle and Australian jungle, spiced with a touch of magic. No wonder the forests where all these creatures live are eloquently called the Green Hell.

Well, the third scourge, which is almost the main reason why Sotorios is unpopulated, is disease. I still remember one of the lectures given by Ebrose, now Archmistress of Healing, on the diseases that walk that land. He reckoned that when traveling to Sotorios, the odds of contracting some tropical crap, whether fatal or not, were nine to one. Just remembering the list of fifty diseases that had just been found and described there, which could easily wipe out entire cities (it was no joke - Gorgai, a contender for the tenth Free City, had died out because of one such disease), sent shivers down his spine. And most of them are still unexplored.....

All in all, for the common man, being sent there was more like a slow and agonizing form of execution, but there were a few nuances.

«Not really. - I said, pointing my finger at a small point in the shape of a ruin, labeled Zamettar. - Two years ago, I had made a deal with the local pirate barons to send a squad there to get a foothold and start studying the local beasts.

«Why? - Alaric asked, raising his eyebrows slightly.

«Because of the unique goods. - Fiora answered in my place, proving once again that she was a much better merchant than her younger brother. - My father had originally gotten rich by selling curiosities, such as beasts from beyond the Wall or rare goods from the I-Ti Empire. You're doing that again, aren't you?

«That's right. - I nodded, smiling slightly. - Apart from all sorts of deadly nastiness, there are many expensive and rare goods to be found on Sotorios. For example, the rare teak and steel wood used in the construction of the best spears and ships, along with the northern ironclads, come from this continent. And the local beasts are good both for sale to the Battle Pits of the Giskars and for ingredients, in the form of alchemical reagents, scales, meat, feathers, poisons and hides. A veritable gold mine, untapped by anyone only because of the difficulties in the initial stages.

«But isn't it too risky? If any of our people get sick, they will repeat Gorgai's history. - Alaric asked, showing that he didn't take lessons and remembered history well.

«That's why the expedition to Sotorios started five years ago and only left three years later. - I answered, once again surprising my brood. They'd never heard of such a thing as thorough and long-planned preparation, so my hammering into the two hundred soldiers, three hundred workers, and five candidates as doctors the rules of survival in a super-dangerous region, which essentially consisted of absolute hygiene, sterilization of houses, food, and clothing, and burning out any vegetation for a kilometer around the camp with Dornish fire, was something innovative and revolutionary. - Anyway, this is the perfect place to hide you and the dragon. - I turned to Fiore. - The people there are loyal and there are certainly no spies among them, there's plenty of room for the dragon to fly and hunt, and if it's spotted by passing sailors, they're more likely to think it's a large wyvern than a reincarnated sky lord.

Of course, there were arguments against it, but there was simply no better option. Sooner or later, the news would spread outside the castle and the news of the revived dragon would spread around the world.

So the whole of the next day was spent in the quick and frantic preparation of one of the recently launched Itians. In it, at the pace of a waltz, were quickly loaded supplies for the long and non-stop passage to Storios, all the servants with their families who were unlucky enough to see the birth of a legend, thirty guardsmen serving as permanent guards for the future dragon rider, and a bunch of other little things necessary in a place where a mere man could not simply survive.

Naturally, such a quick and hasty gathering could not help but attract attention. Already in the middle of the day, right after a private conversation, Nymeria and Quentin got through to me, immediately trying to find out what was going on here and why such a frenzy. They, like the rest of the castle, had been fed the legend that during the night, some unknown person had caused the chambers of the Tempers' youngest daughter to burst into flames. Both of the lady's maids died in the fire (it's true - only the former Targaryen was immune to fire), and she herself received terrible burns that brought her to the brink of life and death. And now, on my orders, a ship was being quickly assembled to take my daughter to the Golden Empire, where it was rumored that the world's finest healers lived, capable of performing the truest miracles.

Doran's youngest son reacted as any normal boy of his age would - he was very upset, barely missing a tear, and wished Fiora a speedy recovery. But Nymeria started to have problems - Oberyn's youngest daughter, with some sixth sense, realized that I was not telling her something and tried to find out the truth. Questioning the guards, cornering young servants, trying to get into Fiora's room and question her personally... In the end, I had to bark at her to keep her out of the way and leave her in her own quarters on the day of departure.

***

Fourth day of the second month of the year 299 A.D.E.

Port, Valley of the Solar Flame, Dorne.

«Did you remember what I told you, Marvin? - Once again I asked the same question to the man who was writhing and almost dancing in place.

«Of course, my lord. - The owner of the world's largest number of Valyrian steel links and the amusing and very fitting nickname of Mastiff nodded frequently. - To be by my lady's side at all times, to monitor her health and daily routine, to study the dragon thoroughly, to document the records and send them to you every three months.

«You forgot about keeping an eye on the arrivals, stopping chewing soursop, and not pestering Fiora with your queries and tests. - I sighed tiredly, realizing that all of my instructions would last until Sotoriosa at the most, and my daughter would have to calm the enthusiastic maester herself. - Be glad you're the only one I can trust to lead the expedition. If Quibernus didn't have a habit of dissecting everything he doesn't understand, he would have gone instead of you.

At these words, Marvin grimaced involuntarily. Back when I was at the Citadel, Marvin and Qyburn were both well-known white crows among the Maester community. Both of them believed in the existence of magic and tried their best to understand it. But their paths and goals were quite different - Marvin sought inspiration in history, the traditions of the Eastern nations and the remaining relics of Valyria, which was a model of a magocratic state. Quibern, on the other hand, studied sorcery for a different reason. To learn the mysteries of life and death.

By studying rare folios from Quokhor, Asshai, and Qarth and combining them with a knowledge of medicine that was almost as good as Archmaester Ebrose's, Qyburn became the rediscoverer of an ancient and long-forgotten magical science that most maesters abhor and gnash their teeth at. Necromancy. The art of reviving and controlling the dead.

Unfortunately (or fortunately) most of the techniques of this discipline required magic, which had already been in decline for centuries. Until the revival of dragons.

«Marvin, I trust you with someone very important to me. My daughter. - I said, putting my hand on the shoulder of this short man, even compared to ordinary people. - Look after her and help her. Where with advice, where with guidance, where with knowledge. But do everything to keep her safe and sound, and make the dragon her faithful partner, as in the heyday of the Dragonlord Empire. Do you understand me?

«Of course, My Lord. Not a single hair will fall from her head as long as I live. - With a bow, which, due to his square build, beer belly and very large head, with a bulging forehead and broken nose, was not very noticeable, the Maester replied. Despite his love for port fights, obscene language and representatives of the oldest profession in all the worlds, the Mage was a very kind and sensitive man who valued his word.

So, putting aside all doubts, I went down the gangway to the pier and, waving my hand, signaled for departure. In a few minutes the mooring ropes were removed, and the newly launched ship, with a very appropriate name "Oriental Beauty", under the protection of the best guardsmen and a team of professional sailors set sail towards the exit from the lagoon.

By evening, with a fair wind, they would be halfway to the Steps, where they would be joined by two escort ships. Insurance in the waters of the Basilisk and the Broken Hand was never a bad thing, and a daughter and a newborn dragon were not to be spared.

«Well, let's get to work. - I said quietly, taking one last look at the ship disappearing among the rocks, and turned around, accompanied by my wife, son, and a small guard, and headed for the castle. The Seven Kingdoms were boiling like a red-hot cauldron filled to the brim with water, and I had to keep my hand on the pulse to keep from dissolving into it.

***

I wasn't wrong. The next two weeks were full of news and events.

The appearance of the Red Comet the day after the dragon was born.

Eddard Stark's execution in King's Landing and the entire family of the Keepers of the North being declared traitors to the crown.

Renly Baratheon's marriage to the Tyrells' only daughter and his declaration of himself as king.

The arrival of a messenger shebek from King's Landing, bringing two very interesting guests.

And if the first event didn't excite me much, except for the suppression of unrest due to the rare followers of R'Glor who took it as a sign of the beginning of the great battle between Good and Evil, the news of the execution of the Guardians of the North threw me off balance.

After all, who was Eddard Stark? Not only was he the hero of the Rebellion, one of the eight grandlords and the late king's best friend. He was the bearer of an incredible Reputation, capitalized. All the lords of Westeros knew this man as a standard of honor, conscience and valor, incapable of lies and dirty games. By executing him, the royal family not only gained the entire kingdom of the North in eternal enemies... no... It completely destroyed all the respect and vassal loyalty it had previously possessed. Neither the Vale, the Riverlands, nor the Stormlands will voluntarily go after Joffrey Baratheon again, leaving him for dead at the first opportunity by switching sides. Which two of them had already done.

I don't know what Cersei, Tywin, Varys, Littlefinger and the rest of the bison of politics were thinking at that moment, but the fact is the Iron Throne lost the support of three of the seven current kingdoms in the blink of an eye.

What about the younger Baratheon's marriage to Margaery Tyrell and his coronation, after that it was clear that the war was definitely not going to die down and would soon go into a hot phase. After all, only two kingdoms - the Iron Islands and Dorne - have now remained neutral and not joined the war. And as I suspect, it won't be for long. I know Doran too well, who won't miss a single opportunity to avenge his sister's murderers, and I don't even need to talk about Baelon, an ideological follower of the Old Law. If the Common, the West, or the North were to weaken, their shores would be flooded with ironborn, hungry for booty and women, who were last allowed to plunder almost a hundred years ago, in the days of Quellon Greyjoy.

Last but not least, the event occurred exactly half a month after Fiora sailed for Sotorios. On the eleventh day of the second month of the two hundred and ninety-ninth year, a messenger shebek entered Osgiliath harbor from King's Landing. On board, along with rare goods, papers from Braavos, and a few urgent messages from Skagos, were two young girls who had been wanted by the Lannisters for weeks throughout the Realms, the Riverlands, and the Westlands.

Arya Stark and Elsa Snow have arrived at my castle.

***

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