The sky was almost dark when Stannis and Melisandre rode out onto the beach, leaving behind the many-towered, colonnaded palace.
- 'Let's rest here,' Stannis said when they reached the cliffs, 'you must be tired from the ride.
- 'I'm not tired,' Melisandre paused, as if watching the force of the wind. - I just heard something.
- What did you hear?
The woman's face was stiff and unsmiling, like a blood-stained sacrificial mask Stannis had seen at the Lord of Light ceremonies.
- My love!" he added later, for Melisandre did not answer.
- "The god in the fire," she said, almost in a whisper, "He speaks to me even when I don't want him to. It would be fitting to greet him with blood and salt!
- I have no salt!" laughed Stannis.
Melisandre started her horse and looked at him. In her almond-shaped eyes, Stannis seemed to see himself, like a fire burning in the palace, and it filled him with despair.
- I know we are here against my will, Stannis! Don't try to deny it!
He sensed the tension in her voice. Sometimes the tension was a whisper, but sometimes it erupted, like the suppressed rage of a she-wolf about to attack. Sometimes it was a fire that suffused Melisandre, other times it turned to ice. The young woman, who was born perhaps six or seven years later than he was, about thirty-seven years old, was in perfect control of the impulses she attributed to the "dark forces". Exactly as one would expect a Baratheon man to be, to Stannis the women of King's Landing were equally reserved and disciplined. Yet today, it was as if 'dark forces' weighed on both their souls.
- What's worrying you, my love?" soothed Stannis a little. "I didn't force you to come to the sea with me. You are a free woman and I am a married man. By the laws of the God of the Seven, there is no relationship between us that I can command you!
He slowly padded past her spotted, maned mare.
- 'You have asked me, my king,' said Melisandre after a while, 'to come with you to the sea, because you wish me to speak to you of the future. So I came, because I did not wish to disappoint you, and because I love you, but I doubt if you believe in my God. Therefore do not be dismayed if the god of fire does not welcome you.
Melisandre used the dragon bone whip from Stannis to spur her horse, which immediately began to gallop faster.
- And if I really don't believe in him? You must see him, convince him, and talk to him, not me!
- If you don't believe in him, how can you hope that he will show you the truth? How can you hope that I will tell you, if the Lord of Light speaks through me?
- There is only one God!
Stannis turned back, and when he looked into Melisandre's eyes, he felt like a helpless child.
- There is only one God, who is called by many names. No need to believe in the Lord of Light or the old gods. These are just names. But God has no name. The books call him "God of the Seven" and by other names. But He is simply God. No human word expresses His essence.
Stannis was not sure that he had followed entirely the explanations of the catechesis, but in Melisandre's eyes there seemed to be a gleam of understanding.
- I think I understand, Stannis. I too believe that the real God is behind the sky. But who is the Lord of Light, who I believe lives in the fire? Is he just a name?
They led the horses off the road, and soon the shady, leafy trees surrounded them like sentinels. This area had been under Targaryen rule when Stannis's father was born, but only a few ruined watchtowers and wall remains were evidence of the empire's former military presence. Even the memory of the legions stationed here was obliterated by Robert's battalions when they invaded as 'allies' of Dragonstone. Stannis stared at the too straight trunks of the trees. It was as if they were not real trees, but tall shadows turned into solid iron, the shadows of dragon kings buried deep in the earth and turned into trees. Stannis dismounted first, then looked around. Melisandre rode to the boulders between the thick roots and bowed low in the saddle. Demon faces were carved into the rocks. Stannis could not tell if the hand of the Lord of Light had carved these protrusions, resembling mouths and eyes and dragon-tails and fangs, into the moss-covered rock foundations at some time in the coming of the First Ones, at the beginning of the world, or if it had been human craftsmen who had carved the stone. But he has seen enough in the ten years he has been in Dragonstone Castle to have no doubts about the abilities of blood mages and nightwalkers. What is certain is that some of them possess powers beyond those of the common man, and may even be able to carve rocks by sheer force of will. Stannis watched the movements of the woman with whom he grew more in love every day. He watched as Melisandre dismounted her horse in a swift movement and struck the animal's tail with the palm of her hand, letting it graze. Wildfire did not stray: he had seen more than once that this horse always stayed close to her, it was quite unnecessary to tie him to a tree like his own. Khal Drogo, when they finally met, was very tight-lipped about his plans. "An envoy will soon be arriving from the Khalasar of the East and the wildlings beyond the Wall who have recently descended from the North. Stannis will negotiate with the chieftains to pay more tribute to the realms of King's Landing or Dragonstone in return for protection. Stannis was convinced that he would not have to persuade the barbarian chieftains to follow him with promises and threats. It is enough for him to speak of the royal blood in his veins, which burns out all resistance like a fiery sea, and it is enough for him to step down from his high throne, walk up to them, put his fingers, gleaming with rings of dignity, on their shoulders and look into their eyes. He drew Melisandre close to him. The kiss they shared was brief, but for a long moment Stannis felt his heart beat faster. Melisandre closed her eyes and placed her index finger on his lips.
- Not now.
It was as if the wind had suddenly changed direction. The foliage above them vibrated and some leaves fell unexpectedly to the ground. Melisandre turned her head and stared into the dark green, freshly weeded foliage.
- The Lord of Light is watching us.
The horses also tossed their manes, their nostrils flaring and narrowing like alarmed ravens. Stannis looked at the bushes, a spider's web glistened on the leaves, somewhere, behind the bushes, a wild animal was running. Melisandre's voice seemed to become one with the roar of the wind.
- Only the Lord of Light flew among the leaves. Come, my king. Show me your hand.
She was already wielding the long dagger in her hand. She cut Stannis' hand with it, then cut her own. Melisandre closed her eyes. She loved the wind as it whistled across the desert. She loved all that the Lord of Light shared with her, the wind in winter was as sharp as the edge of a blade, its frost beneath the skin chilling the blood in the open wounds, and in summer it was as caressing as a lover's lips. In this wind lived her god. As in everything that lives and moves or dies in the world. She had known this since she was a little girl, when she first felt her invisible presence, and later, when one day in the shadowlands of Asshai, the blood mages showed her the dragon skull of power. She then laid her head on this reminder written in Valyr, and listened for a long time to what it said to her in an unknown language like a whisper, which was not a language, but she understood it. She felt the slight pain of the dagger. Would the Lord of Light allow a man who knew no gods, who might be a slave to anyone in the other world, to hear his words? Will he allow it if she asks? She heard Stannis' voice.
- "I want you to tell me what you see for my future. Will I ever be free of my enemies? Will I spend my life here, or in the court of the usurper Joffrey, who might have me killed for being a Baratheon?
- 'No one will kill you...' she said, feeling the agony like a hundred stabs of a dagger. - What are you thinking!
She knew well the fire in Stannis. It was like embers that had never really flared. She thought of the translucent sword-irons she had once seen in the courtyard of the King's Landing smiths. She felt his skin under her fingers.
- My brother thinks I'm coming to his aid. But I cannot betray my House.
- How can I tell what the Lord of Light wants from you? How can I tell if he's going to let you die or raise you up? You must know what you must do, my King.
- Silence!" said Stannis suddenly, and put his finger over her mouth.
He reached to the purse he carried on his belt and took from it a gold-plated dragon tooth ornament.
- Look!
- What is this?
- A gift. It was given to me by my father, after I fought for him. Ever since I warned him of the Lannister assassination plot. Since I exposed the dastardly assassin, I truly believe that our destinies are forged as one.
Melisandre gazed at the glittering gold.
- Do you trust me enough to give me the medal he gave you?
- I don't know.
- Why?
- Robb Stark thinks he should rule the North. The whole Seven Kingdoms! He will not stop until he achieves that goal.
- And what do you think of him?
- I don't know that either. I'm his enemy. I do what you say.
- Aren't you afraid I'll tell him you want to kill him?
Stannis took a step back. Melisandre felt the shock in his strange, round eyes.
- Don't betray me!
Melisandre closed her eyes and, holding the dragon tooth ornament in her hand, turned to the stone idols and began to murmur slowly.
- Lord of Light, God of Flame and Shadow, to you I turn, to you my prayer goes, give me vision, mighty God, please answer, give me answer, give me vision!
She repeated this phrase until the world began to blur before her. The point of the dagger, with the blood of both of them, she thrust into her palm. The pain was like an arrow through the heart. She felt the ripping proximity of something slowly coming.
- Lord of Light, God of Flame and Shadow, I turn to you, I turn to you...
- Melisandre," Stannis commanded her loudly, uncompromisingly. - Carefully, very slowly, step back. Move when I tell you!
The Dragonlord's voice, like a cry for help from a deep abyss, carried fear, hope and despair. A huge, dark-skinned snake crawled out of nowhere from the hollow of an old oak tree as if waiting to be drawn from its hiding place. In the gale-force gale, the venomous snake's bite seemed inevitable. The death-carrying reptile slithered towards the man's ankle, its angular head dancing as it searched for something. A spot where it could sink its fangs and send its victim to the afterlife as soon as possible. Melisandre saw Stannis's childish intentions before he even got to the long bladed hunting knife to try and cut the snake's head off. She did not scream or move. As the power of the snake coursed through her whole body, she became one with it for a moment in this trance. The spell had petrified her limbs and even her heart.
- This death serpent will cause Robb Stark's death, Melisandre promised as she returned from her trance and opened her eyes.