274 AC Lysian Strait "Get the f**k out of here!"
My scream, full of rage and hatred, sounded sharp and unexpected for most of the people on board. It swept through the entire ship like a storm, waking up the still sleeping crew and knocking the drowsiness out of the few who were on watch at that hour.
"I'll kill you, you Dornish bastard!" "Well, go ahead!"
This alternatively gifted one shouted at last, before jumping out of my cabin like lightning and, judging by the clatter of feet that sounded in the corridor, running upstairs to the deck.
"Well, no. That was the last straw."
I thought, quickly pulling up my pants and running out after him. Finding myself on deck and taking a good look around, I quickly found the problem that had fallen on my head and had been devouring my nerve cells for four days now. Oberyn Martell, like an Ulto monkey, was climbing the mainmast shrouds, trying to escape my wrath. In vain.
- Crew, listen to my orders! - I yelled at the top of my lungs, attracting the attention of all the sailors and northerners already gathered on deck.
- The one who catches this freak
- I pointed at the prince, who had made an offended face and was already settled on the yards.
- I will give him a fully paid shore leave from me as soon as we arrive in Volantis! Judging by the satisfied shouts and the joyful crowd rushing to the ropes, they liked the reward very much. No matter, a couple of dragons could be spent to carry out a little revenge. Martell spun. Martell twisted. Martell cursed. Martell fought and bit. But the advantage in numbers and high morale work wonders. Ten minutes later Oberyn was lying in front of me, tightly bound and a little beaten. No matter, it was good for him.
- Put him down.
- The order to the sailors standing nearby was carried out immediately. Having waited until he was put on his feet and kept from trying to break free again, I, firmly, with all my considerable strength, clutching that skull with my hand, began to speak.
- You, a petty noble nonentity, have crossed all boundaries. I don't know how it is in Dorne, but sneaking up to another man while he's sleeping with your "unique" proposals is not accepted here.
- Unable to resist, I gave him a light slap on the back of the head, forcing him to bow his head slightly. Of course, he wanted to tell me something, but the hand placed on his head again and squeezing that empty part of his body did not even allow him to open his mouth.
- You've only been here four days, and the whole crew already hates you. Always drinking, getting in the way, getting in the way, mocking and fighting with everyone. You're lucky I managed to pull you out of Norashi's bunk, otherwise Hoar would have definitely torn your balls off.
- Remembering that only Volkan saved me from a scandal, accidentally noticing how this asshole dragged Hoar's mistress, who served as a cook on the "Black Panther", to the lower part of the hold, I again thanked the gods for our walking sonar, thanks to which we did not get into a single storm in the Narrow Sea.
- Because of you, I now have to be constantly careful not to fall into the hands of the Ironwoods! And they will not leave me alone,until you get caught. Bastards!
- Overwhelmed with emotion, I hit the nearest mast with all my might, leaving a small bloody trail there.
- Enough. Tie him to the mainmast with a rope and throw him out to sea for a couple of hours. Let him refresh himself and think about his actions. Judging by the smiles of the sailors and the speed with which they began to carry out the order, the Prince of Dorne had really gotten to them too. So soon, accompanied by three-level curses from the Dorne bastard and joyful laughter and hoots from the crew, one black-haired body flew overboard, tied with a rope in advance so as not to drown.
- That's it, now we are guaranteed silence for a while.
- I said, straightening my back well, so that it even crunched in several places, and smiling heartily, happy with the nastiness I had done.
– Get it in about three hours. It should be enough to cool the hot desert blood. And now to work!
– Yes, m'lord!
– My answer was a friendly roar of the sailors and boarders recruited from the Northern clans. Immediately after this, the usual bustle of any ship began, where everyone is busy with their own business – the first mate, replacing the sleeping Edward, who, according to his old habit, was on duty at night, supervising all this ordered chaos, the quartermaster with several carpenters checked the stability of the foremast, and the rest of the sailors were simply resting, due to the favorable wind and the complete readiness of the ship for any troubles. I, having taken some fresh meat and fruit from the supplies in advance, preserved thanks to the ice bought back in the Sunspear, went to the hold, where our most important guest was waiting for me.
– Excuse me, Mister Felix.
– I was distracted from my thoughts by Volkan's voice, which approached me so quietly that I didn't even notice it. Although for his ten years he was really very short, especially for the inhabitants of the North, who were always famous for their great height and heroic strength. The poor nutrition of the orphan, which did not provide enough material for growth, and the eaglet chick, which he pressed to his chest, had an effect.
The little king of the skies was already twice as big as his southern relatives, taking up almost all the space on the boy's chest, and what would happen to him in the future, even I was afraid to imagine. According to the foresters, they often saw adult northern eagles, not inferior in size to people and easily able to drag away a small dog in their claws... or a child of 6-7 years old. Scary beasts.
But it must be admitted that thanks to this eaglet we avoided a strong storm that unexpectedly caught us in the Narrow Sea. He had conveyed the sense of danger to Volkan in advance, and he had told me about it. Here I did not fail and ordered to drop anchor near the nearest uninhabited island, of which there were many on the Steps, in a small bay that had been miraculously found. Later, when everyone had assessed what a s... ahem unpleasant situation we could have gotten into, the boy was almost proclaimed a new god. Even Victarion, who wanted to throw him overboard more than anyone, apologized, saying that in this storm, we could have lost at least one ship.So now Volkan is loved, respected and often fed by almost the entire crew, sincerely wishing him to master all the abilities of werewolves as soon as possible.
- Can I ask you something?
- Of course, ask Volkan.
- I answered, slightly surprised. He is a modest guy and has small beginnings of social phobia, so it is difficult to expect initiative from him.
- Isn't it dangerous to do this?
- He asked, slightly raising his voice, and seeing my eyebrow raised in a silent question, continued. - He is the Prince of Dorne and the son of Lady Edara. Is it possible to treat representatives of noble blood like that? Hearing the question of a boy who was quite old enough to be my younger brother, I just grinned and, turning around, kneeling, put my hands on his shoulders.
Volkan, you are a good guy, but unfortunately you do not understand many things yet.
- I said, looking him straight in the eyes. Having stood up and continued my way to our she-bear, I could only beckon him to follow me. It was time to open the boy's eyes, because this was not the North, as direct and rude as a stick, where most people, due to not the best life, simply do not find time for intrigues, but the South, where you need to be able to at least slightly see through events.
- Firstly, have you noticed that everyone on this ship addresses me as "my lord"?
- Yes, m'lord.
- But I don't have the title of lord.
- This fact greatly surprised the boy, who didn't understand the hierarchy of the Seven Kingdoms. - But why...
- They call me milord? - I asked rhetorically, turning around slightly.
- It's simple. It's the sea law.
- The sea... law? - The boy said uncertainly, for whom the only laws he knew were the rules and traditions of his native clan. He probably hadn't even heard of the others.
- While the ship's owner is on the vessel at sea, he is a full-fledged lord on its territory. He can judge, punish, fine, marry and do whatever he wants with any member of the crew, even with the captain.
- I enlightened the ship's werewolf, slowly descending the ladder lower and lower into the hold. - The so-called title of "sea lord". But constantly yelling "Sea lord!" too stupid and tedious, so everyone has long since simply said lord or milord. It is precisely because of this that I can punish Oberyn as I please. After all, as long as the prince is on my ship, I am the boss here, not him. Understand? By the end of the explanations, we had already approached the right place and were able to look at our "live goods".
The bear, who had given birth almost a week and a half ago, was already coming to her senses and was now lying calmly, recovering from the last consequences of the birth. Already now she looked even better than when we took her. Her fur seemed to have become thicker and silkier, her claws stronger and sharper, and her black beady eyes seemed to have gotten rid of the imperceptible veil that covered them, becoming truly alive and shiny. Next to her, buried in the chest area, lay two small newborn bear cubs.
When these two were born, they seemed to everyone like two small pink lumps, with a sparse fur coat and covered ears and eyes. Now, after almost two weeks, their ears have finally formed and their eyes have opened. An incredibly cute and beautiful sight. Actually, they can't be separated from their mother for at least another week, and only then will they be able to walk on their own. But soon we will be in Volantis and I don't know how Triarch Alcaro Levac will react to such changes in the goods. Let's hope well.
- Yes. - Vokan finally answered, after some thought.
- And the second reason?
- The second reason is more difficult for you to understand, but I will try to explain everything clearly.
- I said, entering the bear's cage and putting the food I took from the galley into her bowl. After giving birth, she became more "loyal" to people, or rather to me, Robin and Joen, who helped her then.
- Have you heard anything about the Great Dornish Earthquake that happened thirty years ago? - No.
- The boy answered sadly, judging by his appearance, ashamed of his ignorance. Although Rick and Dick, who took him under their wing, are studying with him, so far they have only managed to teach him the basics of the alphabet. He will not get to the historical events of Westeros any time soon. - Then I must tell you about him. Thirty years ago, in the Red Mountains, separating Dorne from the other kingdoms,one of the most terrible earthquakes in the history of the continent occurred, greatly changing the appearance of those places.
Thousands of mountain Dornishmen died, half of the castle of Vil collapsed, hundreds of gardens on the territory of the castles of the Sky and Iron Forest were destroyed. But this was not the most important thing.
One of the two routes leading to Dorne - the Bone Road - was completely wiped off the face of the world. It, along with the Prince's Gorge, was one of the main sources of income for the house that controlled it. These were the Ironwoods.
- Having put all the food in a bowl and scratched the bear behind the ear, I said, falling silent for a few seconds. It was necessary to catch my breath and wet the dryness from a long conversation, which was done immediately. It is not for nothing that I always carry a wineskin with lemon water. The throat is always wet and there is no need to worry about scurvy.
-For them, it was a disaster. Their house had long held the title of "Guardians of the Stone Way", and even their coat of arms, a black portcullis on a sand field, and the motto, "We guard the way", reflected the importance of the Stone Way for their house. After the massive destruction that brought huge monetary costs and loss of prestige due to the loss of the symbol, their house was very depressed.
Probably, if everything continued like this, then soon they would have lost their title of bannermen, slowly withering away and dissolving in the sands of time. But fate does not like the subjunctive mood. The previous head of the Ironwoods, Olyvar Ironwood, came to power in this house. He did not start to smear snot on his face and mourn the lost greatness, but immediately got down to business. First, having opened the treasuries of his ancestors, he rebuilt the gardens destroyed by the catastrophe, combining designs taken from Volantis and Dorne itself. Because of this, the Ironwood gardens are considered the second most productive, after the Daynes of Starfall.
– At this point, we had to pause to leave the cage of the dozing bear and not disturb the cubs. After that, the two of us headed back to the deck, continuing the story along the way.
– Secondly, he realized that since he had lost the title of Guardian of the Stone Way, he needed to become the guardian of something else. Olyvar chose the sea. In just a few years, numerous shipyards and dozens of new small warships were built on the Red River.
The Ironwoods became the only noble house in all of Dorne with any kind of navy. They took control of almost all of the Dornish Sea, with the exception of the coast of the Stormlands, and the northeastern part of the Stepstones, becoming the guardians of those waters.
Aegon V Targaryen, the previous king of our country, nicknamed the Incredible, even gave them a new title, "Wardens of the Dornish Sea," for their help during the War of the Ninepenny Kings. So now the Yronwoods are one of the strongest and richest houses in Dorne, taking tribute from almost all the islands of the Stepstones and the seas nearby.
By the end of the story about the re-emergence of the Iron Wood clan, Volkan and I were already standing on the bridge of the ship and watching an interesting show. The sailing ship itself, with a favorable wind,develops a speed of about 20 kilometers per hour. The human limit, if it is a professional athlete and these are short distances, is 9 kilometers per hour.
Oberyn, unfortunately, was not a professional swimmer, and it would not have helped him, so now he was simply and unpretentiously dragged along the crests of the waves. Unpleasant, painful and wildly boring. And the best thing is that he needs to constantly control his breathing so as not to sink to the bottom like a stone, so he cannot scream and swear.
- Let's get back to our situation. Do you know why the Prince of Dorne, drunk as a skunk, was dragged onto our ship and told to take us to Volantis?
- Having admired the suffering of one asshole, I finally asked. To which I received a natural negative shake of the head. - In short, the situation is as follows. Almost a year ago, this idiot was caught in bed with the mistress of Edgar Ironwood, the brother of that very Olyvar who raised their house, and the previous head of their house. Edgar himself, according to rumors, was a huge man, fierce and very hot-tempered. For such an insult, he challenged the prince to a duel.
Given Oberyn's origins, the strength of his family and his youth, the duel was not supposed to be fatal, the so-called "duel of honor" and last until first blood. Both duelists received wounds, but our prince recovered, and his opponent did not. Yronwood's wounds became inflamed, and he quickly died. Because of this, many thought that Martell used poison and gave him some nickname that I did not remember.
The Yronwoods were naturally furious at the death of the head of the family and demanded Oberyn's life in exchange. His brother, Doran, the future ruler of Dorne, if the rumors are true, has been negotiating with them for a long time and, apparently, in order not to irritate his most powerful bannermen, decided to urgently send his brother to live in the Free Cities, until he created even more problems. And we were so unfortunate to fall into their hands.
Now, if Ormund Ironwood finds out who helped this bastard escape Westeros, we better not show up on the steps or in the Sea of Dorne. They'll rob and kill us, no questions asked.For such an insult, he challenged the prince to a duel. Given Oberyn's lineage, the strength of his family, and his youth, the duel was not to be fatal, a so-called "duel of honor" and lasted until first blood.
Both duelists were wounded, but our prince recovered, while his opponent did not. Yronwood's wounds became inflamed, and he died quickly. Because of this, many thought that Martell had used poison and gave him some nickname that I did not remember.
The Yronwoods were naturally furious at the death of the head of the family and demanded Oberyn's life in exchange. His brother, Doran, the future ruler of Dorne, if the rumors are true, has been negotiating with them for a long time and, apparently, in order not to irritate his most powerful bannermen, decided to urgently send his brother to live in the Free Cities, before he created even more problems. And we were so unfortunate to fall into their clutches.
Now, if Ormund Ironwood finds out who helped this bastard escape Westeros, we better not show up on the steps or in the Sea of Dorne. They'll rob and kill us, no questions asked.For such an insult, he challenged the prince to a duel. Given Oberyn's lineage, the strength of his family, and his youth, the duel was not to be fatal, a so-called "duel of honor" and lasted until first blood.
Both duelists were wounded, but our prince recovered, while his opponent did not. Yronwood's wounds became inflamed, and he died quickly. Because of this, many thought that Martell had used poison and gave him some nickname that I did not remember.
The Yronwoods were naturally furious at the death of the head of the family and demanded Oberyn's life in exchange. His brother, Doran, the future ruler of Dorne, if the rumors are true, has been negotiating with them for a long time and, apparently, in order not to irritate his most powerful bannermen, decided to urgently send his brother to live in the Free Cities, before he created even more problems.
And we were so unfortunate to fall into their clutches. Now, if Ormund Ironwood finds out who helped this bastard escape Westeros, we better not show up on the steps or in the Sea of Dorne. They'll rob and kill us, no questions asked.
For a few minutes there was silence, broken only by the cries of seagulls that sometimes flew so deep into the strait between Lys and the continent, and the songs of bored sailors relaxing on the deck in their free time.
- What a difficult man, - Volkan finally said, staring unblinkingly at our passenger, who had once again sunk like a stone into the water.
- In every sense, - I added, grabbing the rope that was dragging Oberyn behind the ship, and began to pull it little by little, trying to drag the prince, who was already losing consciousness from fatigue, onto the ship.
- Hey, help me! I don't need him to die, especially so stupidly!