Chapter 19

========== Chapter 19 ==========

Since leaving Bear Island, sleeping together with Dacey and Vel had become habitual. At first it was a very small shared cabin on the ship, then a room when they slept in the cities. On the voyage their home became a shared tent, Dacey's was the largest available. John and Vel quickly realized that there was no point in breaking up the tent yet, since they would all be sleeping together, and in the time they had saved it would be better to help the others set up camp.

The warmth they gave each other in these moments of intimacy became familiar and somehow native. Soon it became unaccustomed to sleeping separately, and John didn't feel comfortable unless he heard Dacey's bearish snoring on one side of him and Vel's quiet sniffling on the other. Those sounds were like the songs mothers sang to their children to soothe them. It was a similar situation for his lady. The nights, on the other hand, were full of passion and pleasure, which they received and gave to the fullest.

The Mormont guards and soldiers clap John on the shoulder and make vulgar jokes every time he leaves the tent. More often, though, someone remarks about the bubbling wolf's blood. Jon stopped blushing at the dirty jokes on the fourth day of the journey to Highgarden, but now it seems he doesn't react to them at all.

On the morning of the second day of the journey to Starfall, an excited Edric came running into the tent to wake Jon up and pester him, but found Dacey and Vel naked in addition to the bastard. He was able to run out of the tent before they grabbed the mace and spear respectively. It wasn't until a couple days later that Lord Dane was able to look at them without blushing.

The company making its way to the Dane residence was a rather unusual sight. Northerners mixed with Dornish, and a few orphans who had joined them in Highgarden in search of a better life. They may well become soldiers and find their happiness in the North. Anything was better than expecting problems to solve themselves.

If the Expanse was warm and mild, Dorne was dry and hot. That became clear as soon as they passed the Night Song Castle and entered the Prince's Gorge. The sun of Dorne had no intention of giving the northerners a chance for a peaceful journey, and when they were told that the weather was not yet the hottest, they seemed to lose all desire to go any further. At least one of the reasons why Dorne could not be captured was clear. The skins had been abandoned, and the girls had stopped wearing anything but dresses. Vel was glad to wear this type of clothing for the first time in her life. The journey went on as usual.

John had already written and sent a couple of letters with Margaery's Claw. The distance to Highgarden was still relatively short, but each week of the journey would take longer and longer.

...

- And yet, what is your relationship with Lady Dacey and Lady Vel? - Edric finally asked John what he wanted to know.

- Very close," John smiled at his blushing face.

- With both of them?

Lord Dane asked too loudly to attract attention. John gestured that it was all right, and they continued on their way. Edric recovered from his shock and caught up with John, who had already overtaken the young lord on his horse.

- Yes, Edric. Both of them.

- But how could you do that? I mean, it's something that few people would approve of, and there could be trouble...

- That's one of the advantages of being a bastard. Few people care about you and how you live and what you do. And as for approval, such relationships are not frowned upon by my gods.

- I didn't know something like that was possible in the North.

- It's a little different. It is possible, but if it's practiced, it's not widespread. There are no lords in the North with two wives, yet there can be some unwanted problems.

- But the Old Gods allow..." Edric couldn't find the right word, "let's say bigamy.

- It would be more correct to say that they do not forbid it, and, as we know, everything that is not forbidden is allowed.

- So you'll have two wives?

- Only if they both agree to be wives," John said a little louder so that Dacey, who was riding nearby, could hear him, and smiled wider as he noticed the blush on her cheeks.

- That's interesting.

- Even if you change religions, it's unlikely your lady wife would agree to share you with anyone else, nephew," Alliria spoke up, leveling herself with them.

- But that is not what I was saying! - Edric was indignant.

- Lady Alliria," Snow greeted her.

- Alliria is fine, Jon. I asked you to. And you call Dacey by her first name, and she's older than I am. You want to make me feel like an old woman by your formal tone," Lady Dane faked a pout.

What John liked about the Dornish was that they were, shall we say, "easy-going." They made new friends and new enemies with equal ease. The former and the latter could remain so forever. Prince Oberyn and his brother are rumored to still want revenge for their sister's death during the rebellion. In short, they, like the rest of Dorne, have not forgotten the death of their princess.

- I just don't want Lord Beric to misinterpret my tone," Snow raised his hands in an apologetic gesture and smiled a little wider.

- Okay, I forgive you, but remember, we agreed to be friends, just like you and Edric. I'm not so old that you can avoid my company.

- Okay, and since you're here, there's something I'd like to talk to you about.

- Go ahead.

- I'm going to Starfall to meet my supposed mother. But as you may have heard in Highgarden, I've been awarded kinship with a noble house," Edric's ears perked up, and Alliria's gaze turned sad. - Your house.

- In that case, you should be called Sand, not Snow, and be my cousin! - Edric exclaimed happily. The young lord didn't notice his aunt's mood worsening.

- We don't discuss Eshara in the Family, so as not to tarnish her memory. Her motherhood is unlikely for a number of reasons.

- May I ask you to elaborate? I don't want this topic to be embarrassing in the future," John asked. They rode in silence for the next couple of minutes before Alliria spoke:

- Ser Barristan claimed that my sister was raped. All the seven kingdoms have heard of your lord father's honor and nobility, he would never rape a girl.

- What if Ser Barristan's claim is wrong?

- Even if it were, you can't be her son. I was five years old at the time, but I remember my father saying that Eshara jumped from the tower because she couldn't bear to see her daughter die. A daughter, not a son, John.

- The girl was stillborn?

- No, she probably died some time later. Your sister might have found the strength to live on, but your father came to Starfall and brought the body of our brother and Dawn. Of all of us, it was Ertur she loved the most, and her brother's death must have done her in. She threw herself off the tower after Lord Stark left.

Jon couldn't find the right words.

- I'm sorry," was all he could manage. - House Stark has brought much pain to your house, and I apologize.

- Children should not be held responsible for the misdeeds of their fathers, and I would not blame you, even if you had a father's name.

- So I can only hope that Willa can clear the air.

- Edric was right about something after all.

- About what?

- You really should be called Sand, not Snow," Allyria smiled and stroked Jon's head.

- Thank you.

- But why did you bring it up in the first place?

- So that I could say that I had no claim to either Starfall or Dawn, and that no assassins could be sent after me," Edric laughed nervously, and Alliria laughed too, though she knew the bastard wasn't joking.

- Well, you're not likely to get the Dawn, even if you're legitimized as Dane and Edric and I die," John arched an eyebrow questioningly. - Dawn is not in the hands of the main branch of House Dane right now.

- Now, from this point on, please elaborate.

...

Lady Alliria told John an interesting and entertaining story about Edric's cousin (technically his eighteenth cousin, if you look at the family tree). He is a knight of the younger branch of House Dane of Mountainside Castle, Ser Herold Dane, who calls himself Dark Star. She said that after the death of the last Sword of Dawn and then Edric's father, the legendary sword was taken over by this knight. Ser Herold was also a skilled swordsman, considered one of the first, if not the first, swordsman in Dorne, as well as the most dangerous man in Dorne.

His character suits him well. "Bile, sharp-tongued, rabid as a jackal, sharp as diarrhea, asshole," Alliria characterized him succinctly. The herald is obsessed with Dawn, but he does not wear the title, as he does not wield the sword rightfully. He was not shy about bullying little Edric every time he visited Starfall, and the boy developed an abnormally strong fear of the man.

Theoretically, he should be the one to become the manager of the Starfall after Alliria's marriage and before Edric's adulthood. This is the reason why she is in no hurry to get married officially. Her and Lord Beric's bastards would always be welcome in Starfall, that's the way Dorne is, and they would always have time to legitimize them if necessary. The Herold was a bone in his throat and the biggest threat to Dain at the same time, but he was in no hurry to eliminate his relatives while the Dawn was in his hands. One could try to retrieve the sword through royal justice, but Herold would surely demand a trial by combat. Few would want to fight the Dark Star. Few but a glory-seeking bastard.

- Everyone would be better off if that asshole didn't pose a threat to Edric or anyone else," Alliria summarized her story.

- Your will be done by my hands, Lady Dane," Jon smiled.

***

That night it was John and Daisy's turn to be sentries. It wasn't too dusty a job, really; Snow left signal runes around the perimeter of the camp every night, so he'd know if anyone approached the camp anyway. Aside from that, there were crows watching everything from on high, as long as everything was perfectly calm.

The bastard and Lady Mormont were sitting around the fire, huddled close together, John's hand resting unmistakably on the girl's breast, but with no hint of more intimacy. For the first part of their watch they chatted habitually about all sorts of silly things. The second half passed in silence, the bastard and the daisy were close enough to spend a whole night in silence without any discomfort. They had a lot to be quiet about together.

- I'll be twenty-four in two years," Dacey broke the silence.

- I remember. You're saying that because...

- Because I don't have much time left. I want a child, John. With you.

- I've already figured that out, based on how much you enjoy the process of making them," John smiled, making the girl cringe slightly.

- I'm serious," she poked him with her hand under his rib. - I don't get any younger with the years, you know. I don't have much time left.

- Ladies give birth even after they've been deemed 'too old' for marriage. I can guarantee you won't have a problem with that," John pulled Daisy close.

- So you're okay with it?

- I don't mind, but let's hold off on having another Mormont for at least a year and a half so I'll be sixteen by the time the baby's born. In that time, I can make sure my pack is safe. Not my she-wolves, not my cubs.

- Wolves? - Daisy clarified.

- Vel had talked to me about it, too. She agreed to wait a couple years.

- The she-wolves can protect their wolves, too, as well as their wolf. Don't discount us!

- Never, daisy," John turned Dacey's face toward his and left a kiss on her lips.

- More fucking around," Vel snorted as she walked over.

- What are you doing up?

- I thought I'd be on sentry duty with you.

- Your turn isn't until tomorrow.

- I know I won't sleep alone anyway, and I'm sure you won't either, so tomorrow we'll probably have another night by the fire together.

John moved a little so that Vel could sit to his left.

- What were you two talking about? - Vel asked, sitting down.

- Well...

They spent the next hour discussing the names of their future children. Who would teach whom and what and how they would raise them. Daisy said she wanted a boy; the Mormons hadn't had one in a long time. Vel didn't care; her children with John would be strong warriors anyway, and probably werewolves, too. Daisy joked that Vel could breastfeed a dozen children. "As many as Snow will produce," she replied defiantly, and then they laughed together. After an hour spent around the campfire, they and another company of sentries were relieved and Jon and his passions returned to the tent.

***

After a week and a half of travel, the walls of the Mountain Abode, the castle that belonged to the younger branch of House Dane, came into view. The journey through the mountain pass they had passed through the castle called the Royal Tomb was exhausting, and they all wanted to rest. After that, they could board a ship and head down the river straight to Starfall.

Alliria hoped that Herold would not be in the castle and that he was wasting his time again, courting Princess Arianna, who he had his sights set on. Alliria knew that she shared a bed with Herold, just as she knew that he was not the only one. The heiress of Dorne had many suitors, but despite all this, her father was in no hurry to marry off his daughter. The only way to get a princess was to make a bastard with her, but apparently no one had ever succeeded in doing so. Herold is among them.

John, along with the Danes and Lord Beric, rode into the courtyard ahead of the procession, giving him a good chance to get a closer look at Herold. Ser Dane had thick hair the same color as Edric's, but unlike his cousin, Herold had a thick strand of hair as black as the night itself. His nose was eagle-like, his cheekbones high, and his eyes almost black. Dark Star looked at his kin with poorly concealed superiority. Though Snow doubted he was even trying to hide it.

- Alleria, cousin," Dane said to the younger branch.

- Herold," Alliria greeted the relative dryly.

- What is your reason for coming to the Mountain Abode? - Edric squirmed under his cousin's gaze, clearly uncomfortable as the new arrivals began to dismount.

- We wish to rest from our journey and continue on to Starfall in a day. We will not abuse your hospitality," Alliria replied, giving her companion a triumphant smile.

- Will you introduce me to your traveling companions? It's not often that a Northerner comes to Dorne.

- This is Ser Jon Snow, son of the Keeper of the North. We met him at a tournament in Highgarden.

Jon, along with Dacey and Vel, aligned himself with the Daines and hurriedly rushed to rush over as well. The Herold took a quick glance at his new acquaintances, lingering unequivocally on Vel's figure, poorly concealed by her dress, which did not please Jon much.

- I am Herold Dane, people call me Dark Star, and I am the sword of the night.

- They call me Nightmare Wolf.

- Oh-oh, rest assured, Ser Snow, even in Dorne they've heard that silly song about you. It must be embarrassing to be known only for the poems of silly bards. How would I know that, though? - Herold smirked at him, but he didn't hold back. John realized that Alliria had not embellished her story.

- "Sword of Night, huh? In short, I'm not surprised. Dawn can still be stolen, but the title Sword of Dawn can't. Lord Starfall grants it to the most worthy of the Dane, I assume that's not you," after John's remark, everyone in the castle courtyard fell silent.

- We don't know what will happen in life, maybe one day I will be named Lord Starfall, and then no one will have any questions. The northern bastards included.

Dacey put her hand on the hilt of her mace, John gestured that it was all right, and only laughed at his companion's remark, drawing more attention to himself.

- As far as I know, Dorne has a slightly different type of inheritance. The eldest child inherits everything, regardless of gender or background, and you are Dane of the Mountain Cloister. Before you is Lord Edric, then Lady Aelyria and her future children. And who are you? An 18th cousin?

- How dare you.

- Though..." Jon stretched out thoughtfully, "Lady Alliria, as I recall, Lady Dyanna Dane of Starfall became the wife of Maekar Targaryen. Therefore, the last four generations of the ruling Targaryen dynasty have had Dane blood in them. Am I right?

- You are, Ser Jon," Alleria replied.

- Why are you talking about bloodlines, you bastard? - The Dane stopped trying to keep his temper in check.

- Because even beggar King Viserys has more claim to both Starfall and Dawn than you do.

- You bastard! - The herald drew his sword, which turned out to be the same Dawn. The white blade glinted in the light, and Jon could have sworn he felt the heat from the sword. Dacey drew her mace, and some of the Mormont guardsmen took up arms. Archers on the walls took the castle guests in their sights.

- 'No need, this is a conflict between me and Ser Herold,' the Northmen and Dornish began to slowly lower their weapons after a nod from Lady Alliria.

- That's right, keep your bitch on a leash! - Herold pointed his sword at Dacey.

- So what were we actually talking about... - John ignored him. - That's right! There's a rumor going around the Expanse that I may be Lady Eshara's son. If that rumor is true, then even the northern bastard and his bastards will have more claim to Starfall than you do. You will never be the Sword of Dawn, Herold.

- If that assumption is true, it will only tell what a stupid whore Eshara Dane was, spreading her legs for the northern idiot when there were plenty of better options around.

John's smirk turned devilish. Not only had the Herold succumbed to the provocation, but he had also insulted Jon at least three times, for which he could be held accountable. By killing one of the most dangerous men in Dorne, you can accomplish many goals at once. Namely, helping the Daines and making them indebted, making a name for yourself in Dorne, and earning name and fame as the Dark Star's assassin. On top of all that, to show how noble the Nightmare Wolf is by defending the honor of Lady Mormont, the supposed mother, and bringing Dawn back into the family.

- I demand satisfaction! - John said, so that everyone in the courtyard could hear him.

- Do you really think I'm going to apologize or fight a nameless bastard?

- You will apologize for insulting Lady Mormont, Lady Eshara Dane, my Father, and for questioning my valor. Four apologies and you live, Herold. If you're too cowardly to swordfight, that's not a bad outcome. If you refuse to apologize, a duel of honor will decide the outcome of our conflict. We will fight to the death. Your vile words must be washed away in blood.

The men stand still, awaiting the outcome. Edric, judging by his glance at Jon, began to idolize the bastard. The castle soldiers began to look at Herold with judgment. Lady Eshara was loved by all, nobles and commoners alike, few could muster the courage to defame her memory in any way. And Herold himself was not well-liked; he had more enemies than well-wishers, if there were any people who could tolerate his acrimonious nature for a long time. Rejecting the challenge would hurt prestige and years of earned respect, and fears would fade. And demanding four apologies at once was only a slap, but a very painful and unpleasant one, which Dane could not bear. There was only one way out of the situation.

- Draw your sword, bastard," Herold hissed. John unsheathed the ebony blade, a provocation well done.

- Fuck, John," Dacey said, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

...

The fight took place as soon as the maester and septon emerged from the castle's nave to witness the duel before the law and the gods. It was possible to do without them, the testimonies of Lord Beric, Edric and Lady Alliria would be enough, but it was better to have as many witnesses as possible. The more official the fight looked, the less likely the bastard would be accused of invading someone else's castle and killing his lord for no reason. All norms were met if there were witnesses and an official reason.

The Herold donned his brigantine armor, painted in the colors of House Dane, and armed himself with Dawn. Of what John was wearing, only the chainmail could be called an element of armor. There was no point in wearing armor, even if it didn't restrict his movements or affect his mobility. If everything Snow knew about the Dane family sword was true, then his current armor would be of no use, for it would not protect him. Jon wasn't even wearing a helmet.

Finally, the signal was given for the start of the deadly duel. In short, fighting to the death was nothing new, especially in Dorne. But despite all this, there were nearly two hundred spectators, including castle guests, soldiers, servants, commoners from the village nearby, and representatives of the smaller houses that had influence in the area. They all stood in silence, waiting for the spectacle to begin.

- Beat the shit out of him! - Dacey shouted encouragingly, but then she got a glare from Herold that didn't bode well for her.

Dane raised his sword and took a couple of steps forward, then froze in a stance that allowed both to go on the defensive and to make a sharp dash and end the fight with a single blow. Despite all the hubris, he was clearly not going to underestimate his opponent. Angry dark eyes focused on Jon, burning the bastard with a glare. Those eyes instilled an otherworldly fear in many of the knight's rivals.

Snow, too, took a couple of steps and assumed the familiar stance he'd used in the fight with Garlan, sword arm still extended forward, left hand holding the dagger in a reverse grip. The dagger couldn't fend off a two-handed sword, but it could be used to deliver one extra blow, which could be fatal in the long run.

Dawn was awe-inspiring, this sword truly deserved to be called legendary. Even from the five meters that separated the fighters, Snow could feel the heat and power emanating from the sword. It was hard to imagine how dangerous the last Sword of Dawn was in battle, since he could wield it with one hand while fighting with two swords.

The distance that separated Jon and Herold disappeared in an instant. The two-handed and one-and-a-half swords began to strike blow after blow with a speed unimaginable not only for them, but even for short swords. The ringing after each blow became continuous and only accelerated. Herold had to make an extra movement to dodge and avoid being hit by the dagger, but Dane had both hands full. This didn't cause much of a problem at first, but as the pace of the fight picked up, Herold realized he was starting to give in.

To Herold's surprise, his opponent didn't lose his balance and only quickened his pace, despite all the power and speed he was putting into his punches. They had only been fighting for twenty seconds, but any other opponent Dane would have killed, or at the very least, ruined his weapon. When John met his gaze, he smiled defiantly, as if he'd read his mind. Suddenly, the bastard threw a dagger at his opponent, aiming for his throat, but Dane calmly dodged it. The weapon only left a scratch on his shoulder pad.

Snow abruptly shortened the distance and, intercepting the sword, with both hands struck a circular blow, spinning around his axis. "Beautiful, but ineffective," Dane thinks and rushes to counterattack, but Snow only intercepts the sword and delivers another blow of the same kind, only in the opposite direction, with incredible speed. The bastard caught his opponent on the counterattack and with a chopping blow hit just below the ribs, penetrating the protective plate and quilted base of the armor. This came as a shock to almost everyone present. Blood flowed from the ten centimeter long wound.

John intended to move away, breaking the distance so he wouldn't miss the blow himself, but as he jerked back, his foot caught on a rock and he fell to the ground. Dane rushed to seize the opportunity and threw a punch, intending to spectacularly render his opponent a little lower. At the last moment John ducked and the blade passed within a millimeter of his head. Snow was sure he had avoided the blow entirely, but he still had a cut on his cheek and a sore left ear, the lobe of which he was sure to have lost. The bastard rolled over and got to his feet.

The Herold took a second to catch his breath, the wound was bleeding and could end the fight prematurely. He needed to finish the bastard off as quickly as possible. New blows rained down on Snow, each one harder and harder, but each one bleeding more and more from the wound. Jon went on the defensive, concentrating on fending off the attacks. The Dane could not break his sword, but the numbness in Snow's palms was growing, and it might happen that with another powerful blow the bastard would simply drop his weapon. Herold left a shallow cut on his opponent's right arm, but he received the same cut on his leg, and the pace of the fight slowed.

Herold went for broke, intending to end the fight with a single blow, not dodging an attack that might come in return and would likely be lethal. A sharp swing and an arcing kick followed swiftly. Dawn was once again dangerously close to Snow's head, who managed not only to dodge, but also to drive a stabbing blow through his opponent's chest.

The herald looked in disbelief at the weapon sticking out of his chest: the sword had gone in almost to the hilt and his opponent was having trouble pulling it back out. Here is the perfect opportunity to take the bastard with him. Dane raises his hand and realizes that the much coveted family sword has been dropped. Finally, Jon pushes Dane's body away with his foot and he falls to the ground, the entire blade of the half sword bloodied.

Gray eyes met black ones. The Northman looked closely and realized that his opponent's eyes were actually dark purple. Dark purple eyes that would never open again. Jon came to his senses as Vel sprinted to enclose him in a hug, Dacey trailing a few moments behind her. Snow looked around and realized that everyone watching had frozen in disbelief. One of the servants shifted and strode toward the fight. The servant picked Dawn up from the ground so gently it looked as if he were carrying his newborn firstborn and handed it to Edric. Lord and Lady Dane breathed a sigh of relief when they realized that Herold would not get up, to the surprise of the northerners, everyone else followed suit, as it turned out the Dane of the younger branch were not liked even in their own castle.

- Well, at least your wedding is out of the way now," Lord Dane muttered, causing his aunt to smile.

***

Three days later, Starfall

Willow had a distinctly Dornish appearance and was no more than forty years old. She was short, a little over a meter and a half tall, with long light brown hair that reached her knees, caramel skin, and blue eyes. The woman's figure was not bad, but without anything to hold her gaze for a long time. Age and physical labor had already begun to take its toll on her former beauty. The stretch marks left over from childbirth didn't do her any favors either.

This morning the woman was walking home from the river, having finished washing her clothes. After the death of her husband and the loss of her child, she lives alone. The only ray of light in her life is the young Lord Edric, to whom she was the nurse while she worked at the castle. It's safe to say that Willa replaced Lord Dane's mother who passed away during childbirth. She wanted to give her mother's love and affection to someone else.

The woman hung up her clothes and headed back to the house, as she still had chores to do. On the way Willa met a friend and received from her the goat's milk she had promised yesterday. Once outside the door of the house, she froze. Inside, the voices of strangers could be heard: there were two or three people. Recognizing the voice of one of those who spoke, the woman opened the door and was immediately enclosed in the arms of the young lord.

- Willa! - Edric shouted excitedly.

- And I'm glad to see you, young lord," she laughed, almost dropping the clay jug from her hands.

- I want to introduce you to someone.

- Who?" the woman was genuinely surprised.

- This is Ser Jon Snow, your son.

The woman turned her head and met the young man's gaze. She opened her mouth to say something, but no answer came. The silence was broken only by the crack of a milk jug breaking.