Chapter Sixty: The Cycle Of Providence

On the surface, the Dothraki may have seemed an unruly bunch. By all accounts, they are. Even so, they were not a wholly uncivilized people. Like every other thriving and widespread culture, they had their own code of conduct and their own standards. They even stuck to their own system of honor.

For instance, while the Dothraki were nomads by nature, they still had a city, which they all visited from time to time. This was the sacred city of Vaes Dothrak in the far east. Everywhere else in the world, khalasars constantly fought one another in a never-ending struggle for power. However, whatever their grievances outside Vaes Dothrak, all were welcome in this city. The khals and their riders could coexist there without generating further conflict between themselves.

Then again, that was not entirely by choice. The Dothraki were not obligated to embrace peace; they were required to. Within the confines of Vaes Dothrak, bloodshed was absolutely forbidden. Men were still allowed to carry their weapons, and in some cases, they could wield them. But only if the intent was to practice sparring, propose a duel, or issue a declaration. If steel ever made contact with flesh, it would mean trouble for the one who bared the steel. Even in self-defense, blood could not be spilled here.

Of course, there are ways to kill a man that needn't involve opening a vein. In that regard, the hands proved to be useful tools. They could be used to strangle a man or break his neck. There was also poison. Then again, certain poisons caused the victim to cough up blood. Would that be the same as spilling it? What exactly constitutes 'spilling?'

There were not many who knew this, but Ser Bonifer Hasty had a gift for spotting loopholes, breaks in logic, and alternative solutions. He could draft or help draft a contingency plan to many a quandary. That – along with his position as commander of the Holy Hundred – was what had led to Lord Gregor Clegane accepting him into the Legion without Banners. The Mountain had once remarked that in another life, Ser Bonifer might have made a good law enforcer on the political side of the spectrum. When Bonifer asked him how, Lord Gregor had used a specific term, which Bonifer could not recall. A "lawer" or something of the sort. How can I not remember? He described the term at length.

In spite of his analytical mindset, Bonifer Hasty could never claim to have a solution to every problem. No one knew that better than Ser Bonifer himself. His own history was evidence of that.

He failed to find a way to be with Princess Rhaella Targaryen. He was unable to avert Rhaella's death at Dragonstone. He did not get Rhaella's daughter out of her arranged marriage to Khal Drogo. He could not even do away with her decadent elder brother. Not without upsetting Daenerys or others, at least.

That last scenario was not quite out of his reach just yet, though. King Robert had ordered for Viserys Targaryen to not be harmed, but there were excusable circumstances in which keeping him alive might not have been possible. If he poses a threat to his sister, perhaps. As of now, she is far more valuable to the Seven Kingdoms.

However, even if such an opportunity presented itself, Bonifer was not entirely intent on going through with it. Although he held nothing but contempt for Rhaella's younger son, Daenerys still loved her brother, and at times, he appeared to love her, too. For that reason alone, he would only allow Viserys' death as an absolute last resort.

If that last resort was needed after all, Bonifer was not worried about the aftermath. Hopefully, Princess Daenerys would understand that it was only done in her best interests. Furthermore, I wouldn't have to be the one who does the actual killing. Bonifer Hasty was confident he was not the only person in the world who visualized all the numerous ways in which an "untimely" death could befall Viserys Targaryen. There were some who would be even less reluctant to do the deed than Ser Bonifer. I could imagine Prince Jon, Lady Dacey, or Lady Ellyn putting him down.

Regardless of all that, this was no place to be talking or even thinking ofkilling. Aside from that, Viserys seemed to be behaving himself lately. For the most part, at least. He still treated all those around him as animals, but thus far, he had made no threats, physical or otherwise. If he continues as such, there's a chance he might live to return to Westeros.

Khal Drogo and his forty thousand screamers had been at Vaes Dothrak for close to a turn of the moon. By extension, Ser Bonifer Hasty and his fellow Westerosi had been there just as long. Very little had happened since their arrival. Thankfully, there was no shortage of things to do in the city. Thankfully, there's no threat of boredom here.

The most interesting thing there was arguably the mountain that overlooked the city. It was called the Mother of Mountains, and rightly so. Even the Vale has nothing so tall.

Drogo and his bloodriders had gone up the Mother of Mountains a few times in the last month. Often, some of the people from the Seven Kingdoms had been invited to accompany them. Ser Bonifer had gone with them once, just for the sake of having the experience. The view up there was spectacular, to say the least.

Only the men were brought along on these excursions. It was an established rule that women were not allowed to set foot on the Mother of Mountains. So, none of the females amongst the ten thousand Westerosi were permitted to join. Not even Lady Dacey Clegane, despite the profound respect Khal Drogo had for her and her status as the leader of the company.

As it happened, Alyver Clegane had been invited once, but he had declined as politely as possible. He had claimed "If my mother cannot go, I shall not go, either."

He had not said that because he was afraid to go anywhere without Lady Dacey. Ser Bonifer knew he was brave enough to leave her side for hours at a time. Instead, he had said it as a way of protesting her somewhat unfair exclusion from the event. Lady Dacey had assured her son that it was alright if he went up the mountain without her, but Alyver's mind had been made up by then. He had insisted that he would only go if she could go, too.

The boy's devotion to his lady mother was commendable. Other Westerosi and Dothraki alike respected him for it. Khal Drogo had even remarked "I hope my own son is just as loyal and true to his sire."

That was Princess Daenerys's translation of what the khal had said, anyway. What he had really said in his native tongue was quite likely less amiable than that. The Dothraki were capable of praise, but they were not famous for being sentimental.

In any case, Alyver Clegane seemed to fit in just fine amongst the masses at Vaes Dothrak. He was much too young to enjoy or partake in the Dothraki practices of pillaging, plundering, and raping, but the spirit of adventure and thrill for battle which was commonplace to them was evidently present in him, too.

It also helped that he was a proficient fighter. It seemed all Cleganes were innately blessed with excellent skills in melee combat. His father was a legend in the art, his mother was deadlier than most men, and his older brother Rickard was already rumored to be the best swordsman of his generation. Likewise, Alyver had potential to become a warrior of great renown by the time he became a man. Ser Bonifer Hasty had seen him fight with a blade, and his abilities were quite impressive for his age.

It was tradition for Dothraki to start training with weapons as soon as they were old enough to hold them. There were a number of Dothraki boys at Vaes Dothrak. All of them had literally been fighting for as long as they could remember. In the last month, Alyver had dueled the vast majority of them, and not one of them had beaten him as of yet. That included those of them who were older than him by several years.

When word of this spread around the city, a few Dothraki men had thought to challenge Alyver. Never one to decline a test, he had accepted each one of those proposals in turn. Some of those bouts did not end so well for him; some of the others did. Most of the time, they resulted in a draw.

At this time, Alyver was clashing with Kovarro, one of the riders in Khal Drogo's vast horde. Kovarro had yet to grow a beard or a braid of his own, but he was by all accounts a man grown. He may have been one of Daenerys's khas, had she been permitted more than four. Definitely a worthy opponent for the second son of the Mountain That Rides.

Since this was not a real skirmish and since they were still within Vaes Dothrak, both their weapons were blunted. This was done to ensure that there would be absolutely no chance of blood getting spilled. It never hurts to be cautious about such things. Even in mock combat, the heat of battle could incite bloodlust out of the most disciplined warrior.

While Kovarro was very quick and agile with his arakh, Alyver's strength-based tactics with his shortsword were remarkable. For a long time, it was hard to tell who had the upper hand or who would emerge triumphant. Both are equally determined; I'll give them that.

Bonifer Hasty was not the only spectator to this drilling session. To his right, Lady Dacey Clegane was standing at the edge of the dueling ring. She was vocally cheering her son on. Lord Tyrion and Lady Ellyn Lannister were beside her, doing the same. Some of the Legionnaires were in attendance, including two of Lord Gregor's men-at-arms, Chiswyck and Tobbot.

Princess Daenerys Targaryen was also there with her khas and handmaids. To Bonifer's left, she was seated under a covered platform with her legs crossed. Her focus was not entirely on the match, though. She was holding young Torrhen Clegane in her arms. She effectively split her time between cooing at the infant boy and watching his older brother spar.

Ever since Daenerys learned of her pregnancy, she had been spending a lot of time with Lord Gregor's wife and sister. Especially when their sons were present, as well. Evidently, she wanted to have some experience with children before she bore a babe of her own.

Her nephew and his wildling lover had been of a like mind. In fact, Ygritte was in the process of getting acquainted with Duncan Lannister. A few feet away from the platform, she was playing with the son of the Imp and the Imp's Bitch. From what Bonifer could gather, Lord and Lady Lannister had no qualms about entrusting their son to the care of the wildling girl.

Even more amazing was how well Ygritte got along with the future Lord Paramount of the Westerlands. Possible future Lord Paramount, Bonifer corrected himself. From what the Stormlander knight recalled of Ygritte, she was generally as cold and unforgiving as the land she grew up in. When she was with Duncan, however, she was as warm and inviting as the land she was currently in. Motherhood really does change some women.

By now, Ygritte was so heavy with child that she could hardly even sit a horse any more. Jon had insisted that she not travel by mount until after their child was born. Although Ygritte protested vehemently, she ultimately conceded to her lover's request. For now, she would simply walk everywhere. She made it clear that she would not resort to riding in a cart until she was within a fortnight of her delivery. Her tenacity was admired by all. Except Prince Jon, I'd wager.

The match between Alyver and Kovarro was certainly a close one. The Dothraki man was lighter and swifter, but also more brash and quick-tempered. He lacked the firm discipline and prowess Alyver had learned from his parents and Ser Rodrik Cassel.

That was what ultimately resolved the fight. After more than five minutes of clashing their blunted weapons, Alyver managed to breach through Kovarro's defensive stance and bring the tip of his sword all the way up to the underside of the Dothraki's chin.

Had Alyver's sword been sharpened, that move would have killed Kovarro. They had agreed "first to mortal injury wins." As such, the bout came to an end right there. Kovarro raised his hands and called out "Yield."

Alyver lowered his shortsword, smiled graciously, and extended his hand to the Dothraki, thanking him for the duel. Kovarro appeared to hesitate for a second, but after that, he accepted the boy's hand and shook it. He is fortunate this was not a real battle.

If this fight had been to the death, Kovarro would have lost more than his life. He would have lost his pride and his honor, too. That would have been even worse if Alyver chose to let him live instead of killing him. Fortunately, even amongst the Dothraki, there was no dishonor in defeat when it was only friendly competition. Or what the Dothraki call 'friendly.' Aside from that, Kovarro was far from the first man Alyver had bested in single combat.

After shaking hands with his opponent, Alyver put away his blunt blade and exited the ring. He rejoined his mother, who grinned at him and said approvingly "Excellent performance, sweetling."

"I try my best, Mother," the tall boy commented plainly. Oh, that was hardly your best.

It was here that Princess Daenerys rose from platform and walked over to the Cleganes with Torrhen bundled close to her breast. After carefully transferring him to Lady Dacey's arms, she turned to Alyver and stated "Best or not, that was magnificent. If you continue this streak, Al, the khal may deem you worthy of a braid of your own."

Alyver chuckled slightly and looked away. Although he was six and a-half years younger than Daenerys, he was almost of a height with her. Another sign of his heritage. He muttered softly "I fear my hair is not long enough to braid, Your Grace. And anyway, I have not killed anyone. Don't you have to be a killer to get bells in your hair?"

"Typically, yes," Ser Bonifer answered him. In the last several months, the Stormlander had learned plenty about the Dothraki. He had done that in effort to prepare for the possibility of coexisting with them. So far, all those hours of research and consultation had paid off. "To the Dothraki, one bell amounts to one victory. Usually, these victories are from the battles he has fought. But the magnitude of these battles can vary. On rare occasions, a battle can be won without drawing one's sword."

"You mean like a battle of wits, ser?" Alyver presumed. "My lord father is well-versed in that manner of combat."

"Yes, that is a legitimate kind of battle," Bonifer Hasty admitted. But not the kind one is apt to find in the Dothraki Sea. The horselords are not the wittiest people I've ever seen. "Words win wars just as efficiently as swords do."

Dacey Clegane shrugged and muttered "Eso puede ser, pero las únicas palabras que los Dothraki usan para ganar sus guerras son gritos." (That may be, but the only words the Dothraki use to win their wars are screams.)

He will be quite popular with the fair sex. Some would say he already was.

Although most Dothraki could not speak the Common Tongue, there were some who were fluent in it or at least had a basic understanding of it. Aside from that, Daenerys was now capable of translating almost any sentence of the Common Tongue into the Dothraki's language, as well as the other way around. For that reason, Bonifer presumed, Lady Dacey had made that statement in Spanish, which only Legionnaires knew. She doubtlessly thought some of the Dothraki might have taken her observation the wrong way. That was wise of her. Again, no harm in being cautious.

To show that he understood, Bonifer Hasty folded his arms and pronounced "Dales crédito donde es debido, mi señora. Un grito de batalla es más memorable que cualquier palabra pronunciada en un parley." (Give them credit where it's due, my lady. A battle cry is more memorable than any word spoken at a parley.)

Lady Dacey merely nodded her head in agreement.

"What are you and Ser Bonifer talking about, Mother?" Alyver asked in interest.

"Nothing, my darling," Dacey told her son, "Just expressing our views on something."

Since Alyver was not a member of the Legion without Banners, he did not know a word of Spanish. However, the Common Tongue was not the only language he spoke.

Right then, he said something to his mother in Italian, which was only known by the Cleganes of Moat Cailin and their household. Not belonging to either, Ser Bonifer could not begin to guess what the boy was saying. He was, however, able to surmise that Alyver was asking his mother a question. Lady Dacey promptly replied in Italian, and whatever her response was, Alyver seemed content with it.

Daenerys Targaryen looked just as perplexed, but she said nothing. It appeared she was not too curious to know what had been discussed there. Or maybe she just respected Lady Dacey's privacy. At any rate, she changed the subject and declared "It's nearly midday. I must be going now. I am supposed to see the Dosh Khaleen in preparation for tonight."

"Tonight?" Ser Bonifer repeated, initially baffled. Then he remembered. Ah, yes. Tonight. Now, that is something I am not looking forward to. Nonetheless, he would stay silent on this matter. The khalessi had made up her mind. She had chosen to endure this trial, just as she had endured every other hardship she had encountered thus far.

"Are you really going to eat a heart?" Alyver inquired, as though that was the most exciting thing imaginable.

"A horse's heart," Daenerys clarified, "And yes; I am required to consume it bloody."

Alyver smirked and murmured "I will most certainly be there for that."

"I think she will be suffering enough without you there, Al," Lady Dacey cockily stated.

"I do not mind if your son attends the affair, my lady," Daenerys reassured the Northwoman, "As long as he has the stomach for it, that is."

"I'd be more worried about your stomach, Your Grace," Tyrion Lannister said flatly. Ser Bonifer agreed with the Imp. Dried horseflesh is repulsive enough. To consume the horse's raw organs… just the thought tempts me to retch.

"I appreciate that, my lord," Daenerys proclaimed, placing a hand over her abdomen, "It'll help that I have been fasting for over a day now. Soon enough, I may be so famished that even the horse's heart sounds alluring."

"Just don't starve yourself, Dany," Ellyn Lannister cautioned the blond girl. Ever since the day before they arrived at Vaes Dothrak, she and Dacey Clegane had addressed Daenerys by that shortened version of her name and nothing else. Such informality.

"I won't, my lady," Princess Daenerys asserted, "My greatest concern is that my body will reject the heart."

"Is there anything we might do to help you?" Bonifer Hasty offered.

"Yes, now that you mention it," Daenerys stated, "It would be a great lift to my confidence if all of you were there for support."

"You needn't worry; we'll come," Ser Bonifer promptly declared. I'm certain most of us were planning on coming, in any case. Based on the conforming nods the others gave, that was indeed the case.

"There is one other thing," Daenerys thought aloud. She turned to the oldest person there and uttered patiently "Ser Bonifer, I would hate to thrust this errand upon you so suddenly, but would you please seek out my brother and invite him to tonight's ceremony?"

Of all the people to ask, she selects me. Ser Bonifer had mixed feelings about this matter. On the one hand, he was gladdened that Daenerys trusted him to get the task done. On the other hand, the actual task was not an enviable one. Nevertheless, he stood up straight, dipped his head, and declared "Your wish is my command, Your Grace."

"Thank you, ser," Daenerys told him gratefully, giving a small smile.

Bonifer Hasty decided to carry out this task straightaway. He bade the others a good day and moved to leave. Just before he departed the vicinity, Lady Dacey called out "Intenta no matarlo." (Try not to kill him.)

Although Bonifer's extreme dislike of Viserys was no secret, she may have meant that as a jape. Regardless of whether she did, he drily stated in response "No hago promesas." (I make no promises.)

"I don't know where Haggo is, either," Daenerys interjected. She must have assumed they were speaking about one of Drogo's bloodriders. Ser Bonifer and Lady Dacey struggled not to scoff.

Bonifer Hasty spent about forty minutes searching for Prince Viserys. He expected to find him in one of his usual spots, such as the winesellers or the bordello. Alas, he was not in any of the places he normally frequented. After a while, Ser Bonifer started to get annoyed. The one time I actually hoped to run into that snake-bastard, and he's nowhere to be found.

After close to forty-five minutes of aimless wandering, Ser Bonifer had a spot of luck. He did not find Viserys Targaryen, but he did find someone who could help locate him.

In the Westerosi encampment, he came across Allard Seaworth, the second-in-command of their company after Lady Dacey. Ever since they came to Essos last year, Allard had made it his business to know the whereabouts of everyone. Up until their reinforcements from the Seven Kingdoms showed up, he had done that fairly well. Of course, there are far more of us now than there were three months ago.

Fortunately, the second son of the Onion Knight was not the only one who had a talent for locating people. Lady Melisandre had some experience in this area, too. It happened that she was in Allard's company at this time. She had been with them since Pentos.

Generally, the Dothraki hated witches. Drogo only tolerated Melisandre's presence in his khalasar because she was already in his bride's service before their wedding. Plus, Allard assured the khal he would keep an eye on her.

Bonifer Hasty had noticed that lately, Allard Seaworth had been spending most of his time with the Red Woman. Not just his leisure time. It was still a mystery what was transpiring between them. There was certainly nothing intimate going on; anyone could tell that at a glance. Maybe they're harboring a secret of another nature.

Whether or not they were, that was not really the most important issue at the moment. Bonifer was still primarily focused on his current assignment. He swiftly approached the younger Stormlander and the priestess of R'hllor.

"Afternoon, Ser Bonifer," Allard said cordially, "Are you looking for something?"

"Someone, actually," Bonifer Hasty revealed, "Princess Daenerys asked me to find her brother. I don't suppose either of you might know where he is?"

"You came to us just in time," Allard commented.

Bonifer was baffled. "How do you mean?"

"Lady Melisandre claims Viserys will go to his sister's tent sometime today," Allard informed him, "We know he hasn't been there yet. We saw him in Western Market earlier, and he was there all morning."

"I was just there," Bonifer disclosed, "He's not in that area anymore."

"So we are aware," Lady Melisandre proclaimed, "Gentlemen, it would be in our best interests if we proceed with haste to Princess Daenerys's tent. We must intercept Prince Viserys either before or while he's there."

"I quite agree, my lady," Allard conceded, somewhat edgily. Ser Bonifer found that a little intriguing. Why is it so imperative that we get to that tent before Viserys leaves? No one is there right now. Unless… perhaps he means to…

Bonifer suddenly had a fairly good idea as to what motive Viserys might have had for visiting his sister's tent whilst she was elsewhere. He muttered sternly "Let us head there now."

He received no argument from either of his companions. The three of them speedily made their way to the section of Vaes Dothrak where Khal Drogo's horde was camped. It was easy enough to find the khalessi's tent; other than the khal's, it was the largest one. No one was guarding it at this time, but that did not entail it was empty.

Sure enough, Viserys Targaryen was inside. He had made quite a mess of the place. The blond man was rummaging through his sister's belongings, as though he was searching for one particular object amongst them. Or three.

"Looking for something?" Bonifer asked rhetorically in a sharp tone.

Viserys was quite startled by that outburst. A moment later, he grimaced and spat "Get out."

"You first," Bonifer barked, clenching his fists and stepping closer to the blond man.

Viserys did not seem to be frightened with him, but he did not appear eager to start a fight, either. He eased down a bit and muttered "Very well, Hasty. I shall leave just as soon as I find those damned eggs."

"I don't think so," Allard declared, coming a step closer, as well.

"They are rightfully mine to have," Viserys insisted, "They were given to my house."

"They were given to your sister, Your Grace," Melisandre stated calmly, "They are hers and no one else's."

Viserys scowled angrily. "You cannot stop me from taking them."

"Oh no?" Ser Bonifer snapped wryly. "Watch us."

At that, he moved in front of the entrance to the tent. Allard and Lady Melisandre stood on either side of him, effectively blocking the only way in or out.

In response, Viserys reached for his sword. As Bonifer and Allard reached for theirs, Melisandre interceded with "I wouldn't advise that, gentlemen. Remember where you are."

"We'll be careful not to bleed him, my lady," Allard reassured her. I don't think we'd have to. I'm certain we could subdue him without harming a hair on his head. Viserys liked to pretend to be the warrior, but his capacity for actual combat left much to be desired.

Indeed, the mere hint of swordplay seemed to dissuade him. He removed his hand from the hilt of his sword and mumbled "Fine. I'll let the eggs alone for now. But my patience is nearly at its end. The khal promised us the use of his army. It has been two months, and he's yet to do anything to transport his horde to the Seven Kingdoms"

"Soon enough, my prince," Lady Melisandre claimed, "Tonight, Princess Daenerys will officially be recognized by the Dosh Khaleen. After that, she and the khal will once again be free to leave Vaes Dothrak whenever they please."

That appeared to appease Viserys. The crooked grin on his face suggested that he was satisfied, anyway.

It was then that Bonifer recalled why he had gone looking for Viserys in the first place. He stated in a genial voice "On that note, please make certain you are at the ceremony tonight."

His attempt to be courteous was wasted. Unsurprisingly, Viserys quickly returned to his usual foul mood. He uttered irately "Are you ordering me there?"

"Yes, I am," Bonifer stated stiffly, "But the order does not come from me. It comes from the khalessi."

"Who is she to give me orders?" Viserys shot furiously.

"Your sister," Bonifer told him bluntly, "Now, I personally don't give a horse's arsehole if you come or not. However, Daenerys does, and that is all that matters. So, either be there or, so help me, I will chase you down and physically drag you there."

That was not an empty threat. Bonifer Hasty was prepared to go through with it if need be. Fortunately, Viserys did not seem to doubt the old knight's claim. Instead of challenging his word, all the blond man did was give a rigid nod and mumble "I'll be there."

After that, he marched forward and pushed his way out of the tent. Bonifer Hasty, Allard Seaworth, and Melisandre kept an eye on him until he disappeared from their sight. Shortly after that, the three of them exited the tent together. They spent a while walking around Vaes Dothrak, but they had no particular destination in mind.

"Do you think he actually will be there?" Allard wondered aloud.

"Yes," Melisandre perceived, "He'll likely be more than a little drunk, though."

That's more likely than him showing up sober. Bonifer folded his arms and said, "Fair enough, as long as he is there."

"He will be," Melisandre asserted, "It is critical that he is."

"'Critical?'" Bonifer noted in bewilderment. "Forgive me, my lady, but how is Viserys Targaryen's presence critical in any capacity?"

"You may regard Prince Viserys as nothing more than a waste of food and space, Ser Bonifer," Melisandre pronounced. That sounds about right. "For the most part, he may as well be. All the same, he does have a part to play in the great game of thrones. A small part, but an important one."

"I'd very much like to know of this part," Allard proclaimed. So would I. Up until now, I would never have imagined that Viserys would be useful for anything other than weapons practice.

"Alas, I cannot tell you at this time," Melisandre declared, "All I can say is this: after today, you will no longer have to worry about Viserys posing any danger to his sister or anyone else."

That could have multiple meanings. But if it turns out to be the one I am thinking of… As much as Bonifer Hasty despised Viserys Targaryen, his sister loved him dearly. That was the main reason Bonifer had never allowed any actual harm to befall the Targaryen prince. He cared much more for Daenerys's feelings than his own.

"What should we do then?" Bonifer inquired.

"Nothing," Melisandre debated, "We should just let this scenario play out on its own. We have gotten to the point where we cannot change or prevent it. Doing either could and would yield dire repercussions."

"You should take her word for it, Bonifer," Allard counselled the older Legionnaire, "She knows precisely what she is talking about."

"It would seem so," Bonifer Hasty observed, "From what I gather, my lady, you already knew Viserys was going to try to steal the dragon eggs. It may not have seemed so obvious at first, but in the long run, what else does Daenerys have in her possession which her brother may covet?"

"An astute assessment, good ser," Melisandre confirmed, nodding her head.

Just then, Allard cocked his head and queried "Wait, do you mean to say you know the truth about the eggs?"

Bonifer was confused. "What truth? Aren't they just decorative stones?"

Allard looked as though he had just divulged his most embarrassing secret. He quickly looked away and murmured bitterly "Oh… then you don't know."

"Know what?" Bonifer said inquiringly. When he did not receive an answer, he scoffed and remarked "Are the eggs real or something?"

He meant that statement as a jest, but when he saw the expressions on the others' faces, he realized it may not have been as foolish as it was meant to sound. They couldn't be… or could they? Dragons are unnatural beings. There is no reason their eggs cannot be, too.

"We may as well tell him," Melisandre contended.

After a bit of silence, Allard Seaworth released a deep sigh and muttered "Very well. Yes, Bonifer; the eggs are real."

Bonifer Hasty was more fascinated than shocked. He raised an eyebrow and said dubiously "They are?"

Allard simply nodded his head. "They're the advantage Lord Gregor claims Daenerys and her brother have. Or will have, I mean."

"Well, why haven't they hatched yet?" the older Stormlander enquired.

"They have been dormant for many, many years," Melisandre apprised him, "They are currently in the process of awakening from their slumber. Hatching them will be difficult as well as complicated. Be that as it may, dragons are soon to return to this world. I have seen them with my own eyes."

"In your Lord's fires, I presume?" Bonifer stated flatly. Most of the Westerosi innately questioned the plausibility of R'hllor. As a devout follower and fighter of the Seven, Bonifer Hasty was especially opposed to that type of worship. Nevertheless, the Lord of Light could be useful in certain cases. This may have been one of them.

That was what Bonifer presumed, anyway. Allard Seaworth told him "Actually, not just in the fires. Believe or no, she has seen the dragons firsthand."

Ser Bonifer was downright stunned. "How could that be? The last dragons died out over a century ago. How old are you, my lady? Because you look much younger than that."

"My age is not the issue," Melisandre promptly countered, as though she wished to avoid the subject, "What Master Allard meant is that I have another outlet through which I amass my intelligence. Only he and a few others are even aware of this outlet."

"What kind of 'outlet?'" Bonifer asked curiously.

"Basically, it's the same as Lord Gregor's source," Allard informed him.

Bonifer felt that revelation should have surprised him. Alas, truth be told, he was normally quite hard to surprise. Anyway, I have been around long enough that hardly anything amazes me anymore. He turned to Melisandre and supposed "Oh, then you have visions, too?"

"They're not just visions," Allard notified him.

"Yes, my outlet involves a lot more than receiving glimpses of one possible future," the Red Woman affirmed, "I can actually gaze into what is – for wont of a better term – an alternate version of the Known World. Every time I do so, I can see what is happening in this other world. Or, to be more precise, what would have happened here."

"And you have seen the dragons in this other world?" Bonifer conjectured. That was far from the most pressing question on his mind, but he figured that was where Melisandre was going with this tale.

"Correct," the priestess validated, "I have seen them hatch from the Khalessi's eggs in another life. This other life both was mine and wasn't mine. Does that make sense?"

"Strange as it may seem, it does," Bonifer Hasty observed, "After all, whatever dissimilar events or circumstances between the two, I would assume that everyone in this world is present in that other world, too."

"In most cases, that is true," Melisandre professed, "However, there are some parties who exist in this world but not in the other world, and vice versa. Likewise, certain people who have already died in this world were still alive at this point in the other world, and a number of people who should have died in the other world are still living now."

"Then, would you say this world is preferable to the other?" Bonifer Hasty inquired.

"One could make that argument," the Red Woman contended, "Even so, it is not really my place to judge."

"Well, I personally believe the other world is far worse," Allard Seaworth declared, "Lady Melisandre has told me enough about it to warrant such conviction."

"What sort of things has she been telling you of this other world?" Bonifer asked.

"Horrid, disturbing things," the younger Stormlander enlightened him, "For instance, according to her, most of the people on the secret council would be dead by now."

For the first time that day, Bonifer Hasty was genuinely alarmed. He murmured enquiringly "Which ones? And how would they have died?"

Allard hesitated for about thirty seconds. Then he disclosed "Maron would have perished during his father's rebellion, Gerion would have vanished during his ventures to this part of the world, Renly would have been slain by an otherworldly force, Smalljon would have been vanquished facing off his foes, and Oberyn and I would have been murdered whilst trying to bring justice to King's Landing. Depending on the circumstances, Willas and Brynden might have died by now, too. The only ones who would still be alive for certain are Lyn, Lothor, and Tormund."

Gods, that is terrible. A moment later, he realized "What of Lord and Lady Clegane?"

Allard was reluctant to continue. Nonetheless, he brought himself to go on with "Dacey would have been brutally massacred, despite being under guest right. Even Gregor would have fallen in single combat. But he would have… come back."

"As a soldier in the Night King's army?" Bonifer presumed uneasily.

"Even worse than that," Melisandre debated.

What could be worse than being revived as a soulless, bloodthirsty monstrosity? Before he could ask that question or one like it, Allard muttered grimly "You don't want to know, Bonifer. Trust me; you don't. I actually envy you for not knowing."

"Then I won't ask you," Bonifer asserted candidly. If there really is something out there worse than a wight in the Army of the Dead, I would rather not learn of it. Then again, it could be possible they were speaking of the White Walkers. Still, Bonifer elected not to press them any further.

A thought occurred to him. He turned to his fellow Legionnaire and asked him "If this knowledge is so disconcerting, Allard, why do you let Lady Melisandre share it with you?"

"Because it is still insightful and valuable in many ways," the second son of the Onion Knight confessed, "It is also quite intriguing and informative. Anyone with an appreciation for knowledge, such as myself, can see the appeal in using this outlet. Those of a scholarly mind could compare and contrast the two worlds and take note of the events which led to the formation of each one. From there, they could decide which world truly is the better one, and they could strive to bring about an era of perseverance and lavishness by following a similar course of events."

"That is an ingenious idea," Bonifer Hasty straightforwardly admitted. The concept may have sounded overwhelming and a little too buoyant, but he could not deny that he was impressed by it. It may not be the most realistic proposal, but it is a desirable one in any case. "That strikes me as a goal Lord Gregor would come up with."

"I feel the same," Allard conceded, "Perhaps it's been his true ultimate goal all along,"

"Other than ensuring the world's survival against the Long Night, you mean," Ser Bonifer countered. Then again, the one would seem to heavily concern the other.

"Surely you do not think your commander so naïve," Lady Melisandre told Allard brashly.

"How is establishing a time of endurance and prosperity naïve?" Bonifer stated in perplexity.

"It isn't," Melisandre contended, "Hoping one might do so without obstruction is. Many individuals would love the opportunity to change the world. While the majority of them are resigned to the paths they follow, at least two of them are not. Gregor Clegane and I are in a unique position."

"Yes, your gift from the gods enables you to defy fate," Bonifer Hasty thought aloud.

"One god, good ser," Melisandre argued. Bonifer made no retort, but he was more than slightly irritated. I respect her faith; why can she not respect mine? "And we do not so much defy fate as tamper with it. Fate is controlled by a power that exists in nature. This power is beyond anything, even R'hllor. Such a power would not relinquish its control over fate to anyone."

"You mean you do not believe fate can honestly be changed?" Ser Bonifer surmised.

"Not entirely," Melisandre debated, "Fate can be exchanged, however."

"How?" said Bonifer.

Melisandre expounded with "This world would have been that other world, were it not for the Mountain's intervention and mine. In that world, every person had a purpose he or she was expected to serve. This purpose is directly tied to fate. There are some individuals who – even when faced with different circumstances – are destined to suffer their original fate anyway. Rhaegar Targaryen was one such person. I believe his younger brother is, as well. Their fates are inescapable. Even when things happen differently than fate intended and one can no longer serve their original purpose, fate will not be denied. Thus, someone else is chosen to serve the purpose instead. The two of you are a prime example of that."

"We are?" Bonifer murmured inquisitively.

"According to her, I am serving the purpose originally meant for my father, Ser Davos," Allard Seaworth illuminated, "You see, in that other world, my father interacted with Lady Melisandre frequently. He was also meant to stand witness to a great many wonderful and terrible events alongside her, but no matter what horrors he faced, he remained one of the few truly sensible people in a predominantly hostile land. Essentially, he was what mummers would call an 'everyman character.' Now I am the everyman."

"Are those your words or hers?" Bonifer Hasty enquired. A man's opinion tends to be biased when it concerns his sire.

"Mine," Melisandre revealed, "Master Allard is one of the most sensible men in this world. Out of all the people from the Seven Kingdoms I have met so far, he is more sensible than any one of them. He is most definitely his father's son, and thus, he is aptly suited to serve his father's purpose."

A rational argument, I suppose. "And I? Whose purpose am I serving?"

"You are serving the purpose originally meant for Lord Jorah Mormont," Melisandre apprised him.

"What purpose is that?" Bonifer asked.

"You are the one who protects, guides, counsels and comforts Princess Daenerys through all her struggles," the Red Woman explicated, "You do not do any of that solely out of duty or because you have been ordered to. You primarily do so because you feel a personal obligation to her."

"That sounds more like what Dacey is doing," Allard commented. Bonifer was inclined to agree, even though he could not deny that what his objectives had much the same description.

"I can see why you might believe that," Melisandre stated, "But Dacey Mormont is not taking over her cousin's purpose. Because of his history with Queen Rhaella, I am totally certain Ser Bonifer has replaced Lord Jorah as Daenerys's trusted defender. As for Lady Dacey… she is serving the purpose meant for Lord Victarion Greyjoy, as well as his niece Asha and his nephew Theon. It was they who brought Daenerys back to the Seven Kingdoms in the other world."

"Just Daenerys?" Allard noted.

"Viserys never returned to the Seven Kingdoms in the other world," Melisandre elucidated.

That other world could not have been all bad, then. He noticed his brow was sweaty. He wiped his forehead of perspiration and said "While we're on this subject, my lady, there is something I would like you to tell us. Whose purpose is Lord Gregor serving?"

"His own," she promptly responded, "As am I. As I said before, he and I are not bound by fate. We are anomalies, free to inflict change any way we see fit."

"How do we know this change truly is good for the world?" Allard enquired.

"You'll have to rely on your own sound judgement to decide that," Melisandre remarked, "If I were you, I would worry more on discovering who in this world is meant to serve Lord Gregor's original purpose."

"Why is that?" Bonifer said inquisitively.

"The Mountain was a butcher in the other world," Allard told him, "He was one of the most hated, most depraved, and most murderous people in the history of the Known World."

"Not at all like the Gregor Clegane we know," Bonifer Hasty drily perceived.

"Indeed," Melisandre conceded, "We must be wary. The power that controls fate will not abide to lose one of its greatest instruments of destruction. Even if the Mountain is a good man, fate will find someone else to spread the fear and terror that the other Gregor Clegane was notorious for."

"Who?" asked Allard.

"It could be anyone," Melisandre alleged, "In all likelihood, it is someone who has yet to enter the great game. Someone who is bidding their time and looking for the most ideal opportunity to strike."

"Why would a savage bother to wait and plan an attack?" Bonifer argued.

"I never said this party would be a savage," Melisandre countered, "For all we know, it could be someone as clever as he is malicious. If so, he would be far more dangerous than any barbarian. There is no telling what damage he could thrust upon the world."

"On that note…" Allard interjected, "Earlier, when all this talk about fate began, my lady, you mentioned that there are at least two people who are not limited by fate."

"Yes, myself and the Mountain," Melisandre avowed.

"Yes, I realize that," Allard uttered plainly, "But I must ask: what did you mean 'at least?' Do you think there are more people out there who have the same gift as you and Lord Gregor?"

"To be honest, Master Allard, I do not," the Red Woman assured him, "I said 'at least' for the sake of argument. That was mere speculation. However, it would do us no harm to consider it a possibility until we can confirm its validity."

"I agree," Ser Bonifer concurred, "As it stands, we have enough problems on our plate. The last thing we need is another fate-meddler ruining everything we've worked so hard for."

"Aye," Allard said in agreement.

At this point, the three of them had reached the Westerosi encampment. It was here that Melisandre announced "Well, gentlemen, as much as I have delighted in your company, even priestesses need to be alone from time to time. I am going to my tent to rest for the next few hours."

"As you wish, my lady," Bonifer acknowledged.

"Can we expect to see you at the ceremony, my lady?" Allard enquired.

"Most definitely," Melisandre asserted, "In the meantime, please do not discuss anything we've spoken on with anyone else."

"Of course, we won't," Allard assured her. Ser Bonifer firmly nodded his head. All this talk of fate and the ways it can so easily change or switch hands… it's enough to incite the tamest crowd to riot.

Allard offered to escort Lady Melisandre to her tent, and she accepted. It was then that Bonifer took his leave of them and retreated to his own tent.

The rest of the afternoon was rather dull and unexciting. Bonifer managed to find ways to pass the time. After the midday meal, he spent about an hour on his knees, praying to the Seven. Recently, he had been praying a lot more than he used to. In desperate times such as these, longer prayers are vital.

Once he was finished talking to the gods, he decided to go back to the Western Market. He did not plan to buy anything, but he brought along his money bag, just in case. After all, virtually anything anyone could ever want was available in Vaes Dothrak.

Around the time of sunset, Bonifer Hasty heard a horn being blown. Like the Sun's rays at present, it came from the west. Ser Bonifer paused to listen, and he recognized it as a Royal Army horn from the Seven Kingdoms. Upon making that realization, he chose to investigate.

On his way to the western edge of Vaes Dothrak, he encountered several of his fellow Westerosi, such as Dacey Clegane, Brynden Tully, and Lothor Brune. He also saw Allard Seaworth again. This time, the Red Woman was not with him. Getting ready for tonight, probably.

By the time they reached the western gate of Vaes Dothrak, the group who had sounded the horn had entered the city. There were approximately a hundred of them, yet only about half of them were from the Seven Kingdoms. However, most of the others looked as though some of their ancestors could have been from Westeros.

The leader of this party was none other than Princess Elia Martell herself. She and her son Prince Aegon Targaryen – whom the world had believed dead until recently – rode at the head of the column. They were accompanied by Lord Renly Baratheon, Ser Loras Tyrell, Ser Lyn Corbray, and Ser Arthur Dayne, who, despite rumors, was also still alive. All the other Westerosi in that group were either Legionnaires or Royal Army soldiers.

Oddly enough, yet another person who had been presumed dead since Robert's Rebellion was there, too. That was Jon Connington, the former lord of Griffin's Roost. No one in the Seven Kingdoms had seen or heard from him in years, but Bonifer Hasty had known the man well enough to identify him at a glance even now. It appears he did not drink himself to death after all.

With the exception of a large, burly man who rode beside Connington, everyone else in that group was clearly from some region of Essos. There was a trio of young Volantene nobles. They turned out to be the three eldest grandchildren of Triach Malaquo Maegyr.

All the other Essosi were clad in thick, golden armor. That detail by itself was enough for Ser Bonifer Hasty to figure out who they were.

Just as Lady Dacey Clegane had been ordered by the crown to travel to Essos and take charge of Viserys and Daenerys Targaryen, Princess Elia Martell had been tasked with seeking out the infamous Golden Company. As of now, it appeared as though each of them had accomplished her directive. Whoever says women have no business leading men in martial affairs is a halfwit.

Lady Dacey stood at the very front of the welcoming committee. When Princess Elia reached the Lady of Moat Cailin, she signaled for the rest of her company to stop. Once all the other riders came to a halt, they swiftly climbed off their horses. Soon after, some of the Dothraki in the immediate area stepped forward to render assistance with the mounts. When it involves horses, these people are surprisingly accommodating.

Once Princess Elia was standing on the ground, Lady Dacey stepped forward to greet her. The two women smiled benignly and shook hands. They did not stop there; they also embraced each other affectionately. Bonifer could have sworn he saw their lips meet for an instant, too. He was almost certain he imagined that, though. The heat does make one see things.

As the two women exchanged pleasantries, they and all the members of their parties headed into Vaes Dothrak together. They began to mingle and converse with one another as they walked.

Dothraki khalasars and sellsword companies were typically wary of one another, but as long as no one on either side brandished his weapon, they could all reside within the boundaries of Vaes Dothrak without quarrel. That's fortunate. If they can't coexist here, how can we hope for them to travel or fight alongside each other in the Seven Kingdoms?

Ser Bonifer Hasty was present when Lady Dacey and her companions brought Princess Elia and hers to meet Daenerys. Prince Jon and Ygritte were with her at the time, but Viserys was nowhere to be seen. Prince Aegon was thrilled to meet his aunt, and he was delighted to be reunited with his half-brother and future sister-by-law. They greeted him and his mother warmly, and they took the time to introduce him to Khal Drogo and his bloodriders.

In return, Prince Aegon introduced his kin to the officers of the Golden Company and the Maegyrs. Ser Bonifer noted he seemed especially pleased to present Talisa Maegyr to them. He had a theory as to why, and a careful glimpse of the boy's countenance was enough to confirm his suspicions. I used to look at his grandmother like that.

As everyone got better-acquainted, Princess Elia recounted the series of events that had led her group to this side of the Dothraki Sea.

After visiting Volantis and allowing the Maegyrs to join their ranks, they had spent several weeks sailing up the Rhoyne and its tributaries. They had ultimately docked at Norvos, where they picked up a lead that the Golden Company was in the northern part of Essos. They had subsequently travelled to Essos by horse, and they had found the Golden Company camped there.

After a rather tense preliminary meeting, Prince Aegon had dueled another man in single combat. This other man also claimed to be Aegon Targaryen, and the Golden Company had signed a contract with him. Luckily, the real Aegon managed to kill the imposter. That one single act had won him the services of the Golden Company.

Once Aegon recovered from injuries, they had all gone back to Norvos, where their ships were still docked. On the way down, Princess Elia had heard tell that Khal Drogo's khalasar was in Vaes Dothrak, and Lady Dacey's company was with his. She got the idea to rendezvous with them there.

Since smaller groups tended to travel faster, Elia had elected not to lead her entire party through the Dothraki Sea. Instead, she had put together a task force of one hundred units, all of whom were high-ranking members of the Golden Company, the Legion without Banners, or the Royal Army. Those were the very same people who had accompanied her to Vaes Dothrak.

For the present, the majority of the Golden Company and the soldiers from the Seven Kingdoms were camped on the outskirts of Norvos. They would remain there until either they received word via rider or Elia and her group returned to them.

Currently, Lady Dacey and Princess Elia had yet to decide their next move. They could turn west and head back home to the Seven Kingdoms. They could make south and meet up with Elia's brother, Prince Oberyn. They could even stay in Vaes Dothrak a while longer and see if they could win over any other khals to their cause.

In the end, they decided that their next course of action could wait for the morrow. For now, they would focus on a more immediate and local matter. One that concerned Princess Daenerys and whether she truly was worthy of bearing a khal's son.

Two hours later, after Ser Bonifer Hasty and everyone else had eaten supper, Daenerys Targaryen had her own, rather esoteric feast. In the temple of the Dosh Khaleen, the petite, blond girl devoured an entire stallion's heart.

Just watching her chew on the thing made Ser Bonifer feel queasy. So, he could not imagine what it was like for her. Nevertheless, he had faith in her. She had readied herself for this ritual in every possible way. She had eaten clotted blood to prepare herself for a full organ, she had exercised her teeth so they could pierce through the tough tissue, and she had fasted for a day and a night so she would be hungry enough to eat just about anything.

Still, even with all those measures, eating the heart must have been a chore. Daenerys was required to consume every morsel of it, and it would have been a bad omen if she gagged or vomited. She dared not balk, lest she appear weak in front of the old crones.

At the very least, she had plenty of moral support. Bonifer Hasty was there for her. Prince Jon, Ygritte, Prince Aegon, Princess Elia, Lord Tyrion, Lady Ellyn, Lady Dacey, and the other members of the secret council were there, too. Alyver Clegane, Jon's maid Myrna, and the direwolves Ghost and Lyarra were there, as well.

Even Prince Viserys showed up, and he managed to stay for the entire ceremony. Still, he seemed less than thrilled to be there. All throughout the ritual, Ser Bonifer noticed how he kept casting cold glares over at Jon and Aegon. It was as though he was cross with his nephews for some unknown reason. He does not see them as family; he just sees them as obstacles in his house's line of succession.

Just when Daenerys took the final bit of the heart, Viserys slunk out of the room. No one else, including his sister, seemed to care or even notice that he was gone. Ser Bonifer chose not to go after him. He was more interested in the princess's welfare.

After licking the blood off her fingers, Daenerys stood up tall and straight. One of the crones of the Dosh Khaleen asked her what name she would bestow upon her son, and she announced "Rhaego, after my late brother."

Khal Drogo seemed pleased with her choice of name. Indeed, Ser Bonifer felt it had its own sort of appeal. The Silver Prince would be honored.

Even after the heart ceremony ended, everyone lingered in the temple for a while longer. They spent a while getting further acquainted with one another. So far, Khal Drogo was getting along quite well with Prince Aegon and Prince Jon. The three of them had an astonishingly large amount to talk about. After hearing the name his wife chose for his son, the khal was suddenly rather interested in learning more about their father. Too bad Rhaegar died before either of them could get to know him. Still, the princes agreed to indulge the khal. Princess Elia and some of the others were able to assist in this regard.

For about an hour, all was well.

Then Viserys came back. And he was worse than ever.

Viserys returned inebriated and with his sword drawn. He made some very unpleasant slurs about King Robert Baratheon and how he was nothing more than a usurper and a murderer. He ranted about how the Iron Throne still belonged to the Targaryens', and he was keen to mention how he should have been the one to sit it.

When he got to that part, he turned towards his nephews, waved his sword in their direction, and accused them of plotting to take away what was rightfully his. Prince Aegon and Prince Jon were quick to respond to that threat. They rose to their feet and reached for Blackfyre and Dark Sister respectively. Before they drew their family's ancestral blades, the khal gestured for them to stand down.

Even now, he will not permit bloodshed. That was one thing about the khal which Ser Bonifer greatly admired. He could show even greater restraint than the men of Westeros. In certain cases.

However, when Viserys pointed his sword at his sister's protruding abdomen and threatened to cut her unborn child out of her, that was when the khal finally stirred from his spot. He rose to his feet and told Viserys in fragmented bits of the Common Tongue "It will be so… you shall have… crown of gold… men will quiver at."

Viserys Targaryen looked happy to be told that. For the first time since Bonifer Hasty met him, he seemed genuinely merry.

His joy quickly faded. Right then, Haggo came up behind Viserys and kicked him behind the knee. Viserys yelled in pain and stumbled. Before he could recover, Qotho seized him by his arms, and Cohollo wrestled his sword from him. All three of them held him down whilst Khal Drogo made his way over to an empty black cauldron hanging over a fire.

Drogo removed his belt and deposited the heavy golden medallions into the cauldron. It was already hot enough that the medallions started to melt almost right away. It took less than two minutes for them to completely change from solid to liquid.

For the entirely of those two minutes, Viserys struggled against his captors, but the khal's bloodriders held him firmly. Soon enough, the deposed prince beseeched the other Westerosi in the room to help him. Dacey Clegane considered giving her aid, mostly for the sake of compassion and duty, but Daenerys beckoned her not to intervene.

When the khal donned a pair of thick, insulated gloves and removed the cauldron from the fire, Viserys turned to his sister and begged her "Dany… please… don't let them do this. I… I'm your brother!"

Alas, Princess Daenerys did nothing to stop her sun-and-stars. She just coolly watched this scene play out without interruption. He's dead to her already.

Khal Drogo stepped in front of the kneeling blond man and glared down at him. He gradually raised the cauldron into the air and mockingly announced "A crown for Cart King!"

Then he poured the cauldron's contents onto Viserys Targaryen. Viserys screamed like a banshee as the bubbling molten liquid engulfed his head. After just a few seconds, the khal's bloodriders released him and let him writhe on his knees as his shriek became louder and shriller.

The gold hardened fairly quickly. It took no more than twenty seconds to solidify. That was also how long it took for Viserys's scream to end. Once he fell silent, he collapsed onto his stomach. His head made an ominous "clink" when it struck the ground.

That was the last anyone ever heard from Viserys Targaryen.

For a minute, no one said or did anything. Then Jon Targaryen leaned down to Daenerys and told her apologetically "I am sorry for your loss, Dany."

"You needn't feel sorry, Jon," Daenerys assured her nephew, "Viserys was never really one of us. Fire cannot harm a dragon."

"Then indeed; he was no real dragon," Aegon observed. I would say not.

Ser Bonifer Hasty expected to feel some sort of catharsis when Viserys Targaryen breathed his last. Strangely, he found himself pitying the man, instead. He also found himself remembering what Lady Melisandre had said of him earlier that day.

He spotted the Red Woman standing in a corner of the room with Allard Seaworth. Again, they spoke softly so no one would overhear them.

The old knight from the Stormlands casually sauntered over the Red Woman and whispered to her "Once more, you were right, my lady."

"I aim to be right always," Melisandre claimed, "I do not delight in Viserys Targaryen's death, but his loss is a necessary one."

"Necessary how?" Allard queried.

"Viserys may not have been a dragon," Lady Melisandre professed, "Even so, he had the blood of a king. Such blood is invaluable to us. In order for the dragon eggs to hatch, they will require a blood sacrifice to be made beforehand."

"Then the sacrifice has already been made?" Bonifer assumed hopefully

"No, it has only begun," Melisandre claimed, "Viserys was one man, and there are three eggs."

"You mean… someone else will…?" Allard assumed anxiously.

Lady Melisandre nodded her head and stated "At least two other people close to House Targaryen are going to have to give their lives before the eggs can hatch. This time when I say 'at least,' I mean it. There can be no less than two casualties, but there can certainly be more. I'm afraid there is no other way around that arrangement."

Allard Seaworth sighed in annoyance, and Bonifer Hasty grumbled in frustration. Normally, I can devise a suitable resolution to any dilemma. But it appears this one is out of even my reach. The realization of that was more terrible than words could properly convey.