120 Luring a rat

Trystanne walked down a street so narrow three men could not fit shoulder to shoulder. He kept an ear out for any noise as he walked, paying close attention to the side streets and the few people he saw passing through them.

Shadow City is a maze of dead ends, a place full of hiding places for any assassin or thief.

The city was created for this purpose, a labyrinth that confuses and traps any invading force, while the invaders are lost in the walls of Shadow City the guards kill them one by one as shadows engulf the light.

`I don't think the architects of old thought that this design would ever be used against House Martell.` thinks the swordsman with a wry smile. `At least thanks to Lothar I don't have to worry about an air attack...`

Trystanne remembers the night before when they told him that he is the faceless man's target, that if he continues to stay by his son's side he will put him in danger.

*** (Flashback)***

"I am the faceless man's target?" He stared in disbelief at the Princess of Dorne.

"I'm afraid so," the princess replied with a grim expression.

"Why? Just-why?" He runs a hand through his silver hair and absently thinks that if he hadn't been born with silver hair his hair would already be that color just from the stress of the last year. "Why me? It doesn't make sense! Obella is the heiress, Doran is the goose that keeps laying golden eggs, Arthur is your closest confidant, YOU are the Princess of Dorne. I am just the husband of the heiress, the father of her children. I am a good fighter but not even the most skilled warrior can win a war on his own. As a commander I can't compare to Arron or Manfrey, so why me?"

"Because you are a symbol." She answers looking at Dawn.

"A symbol?" Trystanne looks at her confused.

"The Morning Sword is not just a man but a symbol, a symbol for all of Dorne; a symbol of strength, of righteousness and justice. `No Righteous Morning Sword will die while they have Dawn in their hands` If you die the smallfolk will assume you no longer had Dawn`s protection, thus you strayed from the righteous path. Dorne will no longer believe in you, and all you deeds will be stained. Moreover, the people closest to you will bear the same stigma, especially your wife and children. It would only take a few words spoken in some tavern and soon all of Dorne will be talking about the corruption of House Martell, how they lost hte favor of the gods and were damned."

Trystanne swallows hard and opens and closes his mouth several times. He never thought his death could be so catastrophic for his family, at least not beyond the pain that it would be inflicting on them.

"Distrust will spread like dust in a sandstorm and soon morale will drop. Trystanne, as a warrior, you know how easy it is to destroy an enemy army if their morale is low, if they mistrust their leaders."

The princess sighed and Trystanne noticed how tired she looked, he looked at her and for the second time in his life he saw the almost 50 year old woman and not the Princess of Dorne.

"The Blackfyre of this generation are very dangerous, much more than the last." Says Trystanne after a pause.

"No," she corrects him. "Edarion, Edarion Blackfyre is the mastermind behind all of this. Daemon and Maelys are dangerous but Edarion is the one we must be more careful with."

"But now that it's known that the Yronwood were working with the Blackyres and that they're willing to hire faceless assassins, my death wouldn't be so devastating, would it? We've ruined a good part of our enemies' plans." Trystanne looks at her hopefully.

"Trystanne," She looked at him warily and slightly sadly. "Your death won't stop being devastating just because we've ruined part of their plans."

The Morning Sword looked away, suddenly embarrassed by his words.

"Your family loves you, child." The princess softens her gaze. "Your wife and children will be devastated. Your death will always be a devastating blow to us, so get those absurd ideas out of your head."

"It almost sounds like my death would affect you, princess." Trystanne jokes weakly.

"Of course It would, without you around there will be no one to question my humanity." The princess looks at him with a loving smile.

Trystanne smiles sheepishly, like a boy instead of the man he is, feeling both embarrassed and flattered.

***(End Flashback)***

`Who would have said that the Golden Viper has a soft spot for someone who doesn't share her blood...` Trystanne shakes his head with a fond smile.

His relationship with the Princess of Dorne was never especially close, she always intimidated him; the coldness with which she can act is not something that a man as simple and honest as he can easily accept or understand. To Dorna Nymeros Martell the world seems like a big chessboard and people are just pieces for her to use, that's what Trystanne used to think but in the last few days he's learned to see her in a different light.

He saw the woman behind the golden armor, and for the first time in the decade and a half that he's known her he can understand, and even sympathize with, the mother of his wife.

`I can't wait to tell Obella, my beloved will not believe my words!`

"Prince Trystanne!" The prince sees a man running towards him, he recognizes him as one of the guards who are undercover in Shadow City. "The assassin was spotted near the South Market Plaza!" he says as he catches his breath.

***(Earlier)***

Jack is a man of barely 20 years old and has been serving House Martell as a guard since he was 15 years old, before that he used to be one of the servants who worked at Sunspear. Since he was a child he was fascinated with swords and whenever he could he always stopped for a few minutes at the training grounds to watch the guards train.

Prince Trystanne noticed him watching them and one day he called him to join them, the prince gave him a wooden sword and taught him how to use it.

"First lesson: stick them with the pointy end." The prince jokes.

That day his life changed, he was given the opportunity he desired for so much, and all thanks to Prince Trystanne.

Jack would give his life for the prince in the blink of an eye, without hesitation or regret. So when Lord Manfrey recruited several guards for a vitally important task, Jack knew in his bones that it had something to do with what happened in Sunspear just a few days ago.

The trial of House Yronwood. The duel, the faceless assassin. The almost death of prince Doran.

Jack doesn't know Prince Doran, they had barely exchanged a few words but the young prince always seemed kind, and most importantly: Prince Doran is the son of the man who changed his life.

The young guard did not hesitate to volunteer, Lord Manfrey was a little hesitant to allow him to join the group but Jack begged him to give him the chance to show his worth to Prince Trystanne. The Castellan accepted but he looked at him something strangely.

Before the first rays of the sun showed on the horizon Jack dressed in a simple brown robe and went out into the streets of Shadow City.

He was patrolling the eastern streets of the city when he noticed something strange, one of the guards was acting oddly. That guard had the habit of playing with a bracelet every time he was nervous, that bracelet had been given to him by his fiancée and he always wore it on his left hand but today he had it on his right hand and barely touched it.

Jack told no one, the detail is so insignificant it might as well be nonsense, but he decided to keep an eye on Osric. Their patrol routes diverged and Jack could only sigh as that detail continued to haunt him.

`He only changed the bracelet to his right hand and he is not fiddling with it so much- It is not a big deal, surely there is an explanation! But-`

"I can't doubt! Prince Trystanne told me to trust my instincts!" Jack made up his mind and left his patrol route and ran to where Osric should be. `His route was to the south!`

Turning into a side street Jack saw men ahead with drawn swords, he barely stopped before crashing into them.

"Well, well. Look what we have here: a little assassin." Prince Jacaerys looked at him with a sharky smile.

"W-what?" Jack noticed the guards coming out of the side streets and with wide eyes realized the misunderstanding. "I am not the faceless assassin! I swear!"

"Oh? He swears, then he must be innocent!" The prince put a hand to his chest and smiled mischievously. "Shall we let him go, men?"

Some of the guards chuckled, but most of them were watching him intently, watching his every move.

Jack realized there will be no way to convince them otherwise, the only way to prove his innocence is by catching the real assassin. Looking around he saw a number of guards who had routes in the same area that Osric and Jack felt his stomach sink.

"Prince Jacerys, Lord Manfrey!" He drew his sword, all the guards looked at him like hungry wolves, and he quickly threw it to the ground surprising them. Jack also threw his dagger away. "I can't prove my innocence, I know nothing I say will change your mind but please go to prince Trystanne`s side! I noticed Osric acted strangely and he should be here but is not! I believe Osric is the faceless assassin!"

"It has to be some trick." Jacerys muttered not believing his words.

"He wants us to separate to kill us one by one! He can't win against all of us but if we separate- It's a deceit!" A guard shouted, several guards nodded in agreement.

"Father, keep an eye on this man but don't attack him unless he attacks you first." Manfrey sheathed his sword.

"What will you do, son?"

"I need to be sure, Trystanne's life is at stake." Manfrey ran towards where Osric should be, the Castellan knows the routes of all the guards since he was the one who created them.

Jack watched the Castellan vanish in the distance and prayed to the gods for his success.

***(Now)***

"The South Market Plaza?" Trystanne looked at the guard, a man a decade younger than him. "Your name is Osric, right?"

"Yes, my prince." The guard smiled slightly, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

"Good," the prince nodded. "You rest here, I will deal with the assassin."

Trystanne walked the way Osric came from and as he walked past him he felt the hairs on his neck stand up. He moved his hand to his sword and in what a man could blink his sword was drawn and Trystanne made a spinning slash.

Osric jumped to the side, narrowly missing his head being severed from his body.

"No ordinary guard could have dodged that slash." Trystanne narrowed his eyes at the dagger in Osric's hand. "Stab in the back, typical of a assasin." Snorted the Morning Sword.

"Osric" lost all facial expression and drew his sword.

"You will not say anything?" Trystanne changed his stance to a more offensive one, sword raised. "You will talk, after Arthur is done with you, you will talk."

The prince made the first move, he advanced and delivered a diagonal strike. The assassin blocked his sword with his own, Trystanne's superior physical strength as well as the fact that the prince was gripping the sword with both hands made the assassin unable to block the sword properly, the assassin then deflected the blow to the side and changed posture in a blink. The assassin threw his dagger into Trystanne's chest, the dagger rebounding off the prince's breastplate and he sighed in relief.

`Thank you, son.`

The assassin narrowed his eyes and changed position again.

Trystanne attacked again and for a few minutes the two exchanged blows with the assassin continually backing away.

The assassin took a step back and the prince attacked him with a side swipe, the Braavosi blocked the sword but then the prince swung his sword around quickly and disarmed his enemy. The assassin's sword struck one of the side walls with a thud.

"Nice trick but you're underestimating me." Trystanne sheathed his sword and drew his dagger. "Luring me into an enclosed space where I can't use my sword properly is a good idea, but unfortunately for you I can fight with more than just a sword."

As he was backing away, the assassin led him into a very narrow alleyway, less than two meters wide.

The assassin throws two throwing knives at him and Trystanne deflects them with his dagger, turning his attention back to the assassin he saw that he is less than a meter away, with another knife in his hand.

The prince blocks the knife with his vambrace and attacks with his dagger, the assassin turns his body in an almost inhuman way to avoid the prince's dagger.

`Not so fast!` Trystanne shifts his center of gravity and kicks the assassin in the side, he recoils grunting in pain.

The Morning Sword picks up one of the assassin's knives from the floor and throws it at him, aiming for his leg. The assassin dodges and pulls out two more throwing knives, throwing them at the prince with great precision. Trystanne dodges them, barely ducking to avoid a third and fourth knife.

"How many of those things do you have?!" Trystanne rolls onto his right shoulder to avoid the assassin, who lunges at him again, knife raised.

While he was stabilizing himself, the assassin threw a knife at his neck and the prince had to roll on the ground to avoid the knife.

Trystanne hears something heavy hit the ground and when he turns his gaze to the assassin he sees him lying on the ground under a heavy steel netting unconscious. Looking up at the rooftops he sees Lothar waving at him.

"Why did you take so long?" He asks his former squire once he is next to him.

"I was enjoying the show." Answers the knight with a smirk.

"Doran rubbed off on you his cheekiness." Comment amused Trystanne.

"He... he changed me, ser. I am no longer the boy I was 10 years ago." Lothar says solemnly.

"Is that change bad, are you unhappy with who you are?" The prince looked at him with concern.

"No, I- surprisingly no. The man I am- the man I am becoming, is not who I thought I will be but that is not a bad thing. I am quite satisfied with it. I just wished my prince did not have to be on the verge of death for me to realize it." Lothar replies regretfully.

Trystanne places a hand on his shoulder.

"It wasn't your fault, Lothar." He tells him seriously. "I know it's hard to believe but what happened to Doran was not your fault, nor Princess Dorna's, nor Arthur's, nor- nor mine. It was the fault of Yronwood, those damn lizards and these fucking assasins." Trystanne turns his gaze to the assassin and sees something that shocks him.

Lothar notices how the prince stiffened and follows his line of sight, first looking at the assassin and seeing that he is still unconscious under the steel net.

`What did he-` Then he sees it: a knife, one of the assasin's throwing knives, a knife with blood stains.

"Trystane!" Lothar forgets all protocol and examines the body of his former mentor with concern. "Where did he cut you?!"

Lothar sounds frantic and with good reason, the faceless men are known to use a wide variety of poisons to bathe their weapons, Doran's current state is due to one of those poisons.

"Nowhere." Answers confused Trystanne.

Lothar looks at him strangely and continues examining the body of his former mentor, but he does not find any cuts.

"That is not my blood." Says Trystanne walking towards the knife.

"But then, whose is it?" Lothar asks, looking at the prince picking up the knife from the ground.

***

In a deserted alleyway a man lies in a pool of his own blood, his face rigid and pale, very different from his usual olive complexion.

His golden eyes look up at the sky and the first rays of daylight illuminate them, but those golden eyes no longer have a light of their own.

***

NOTE: Advanced chapter in my p@ tre on if you are interested.

p a t r e o n. com /EdenofKovir

Did you think Jack was the faceless assassin?

Do you know who the man in the alley is?