chapter 197 part 2
Glyn reined in his wandering thoughts. A beautiful face truly slows a man's hand.
Knock, knock, knock.
After receiving a response, Steward Herschel, his belly a size larger, entered cheerfully with a tray of food.
After Steward Herschel had set down the food, Glyn walked over and sat down. "My thanks, Herschel."
Steward Herschel bowed slightly, his fat face wreathed in smiles. "My lord, the honor is mine."
Glyn picked up his cup and took a sip of wine. "Herschel, the blockade of Blackwater Bay is expected to last for another six months or so. I want you to be prepared."
Steward Herschel couldn't help but sigh regretfully. "If not for this blockade, Mermaid Port would have seen a considerable surplus this year. I had planned to use that money to invest in next year's port construction."
Glyn set down his wine cup. "Lord Renly, with the support of the Lord of Highgarden, has already declared himself king in the south. I expect that ships from The Reach will soon be forbidden from entering Blackwater Bay."
Steward Herschel's pupils contracted. "My lord, our war reserves are still far from sufficient."
Steward Herschel was referring to the grain transported to Mermaid Port by merchant ships from The Reach. These were the war reserves crabbe's lands had stockpiled for the war for the Vale.
Glyn leaned back in his chair. "Though it is not the ideal situation, our current reserves are sufficient for our needs."
Herschel nodded slightly and placed a hand on his chest. "My lord, Herschel awaits your command."
After a pause, Glyn spoke. "One could say that Blackwater Bay has already entered a state of war. Stannis's royal fleet will no longer be defending against pirates with their full attention, for they now have a more important enemy."
He added, "At a time like this, we must not neglect the port's defenses. A moment of carelessness, and the Mermaid Port we have worked so hard to build could be put to the torch, my loyal Herschel."
Steward Herschel said solemnly, "My lord, please rest assured. I will bear it in mind."
...
...
Essos. The city-state of Pentos, where Viserys resided. The Magister's Manse.
Supported by a handmaiden, Daenerys entered the steaming bath. She savored the comfort of the hot water and reached out to touch the fossilized dragon eggs placed beside her.
Ever since receiving the three dragon eggs—green, white, and black—Daenerys had unknowingly grown fond of all sorts of stories about dragons. She had heard that dragons originally came from the east, from the Shadow Lands beyond Asshai and the islands of the Jade Sea. She thought... perhaps in that desolate and mysterious land, some dragons still survived.
Daenerys withdrew her hand from the dragon egg and asked her new handmaiden, "Do you think I will ever see a dragon?"
The new handmaiden knew a great deal about dragons. As she scrubbed Daenerys's back, she said, "Your Grace, I have heard that the dragons died out a long, long time ago... They are extinct."
Daenerys looked slightly disappointed. "They're all dead? Even the dragons of the east?"
It was said that when the Doom fell upon Valyria and the Lands of the Long Summer, magic vanished from the West. Enchanted swords, weather-singers who could predict the storms, and dragons were all lost beyond recovery. But Daenerys had heard that things were different in the East. Manticores were said to still prowl the islands of the Jade Sea, and basilisks still coiled in the jungle depths. She thought... if that was so, why couldn't there be surviving dragons?
The new handmaiden moved to her side and held up the silver-haired princess's slender, fair arm. "Your Grace, every part of your body is so captivating..."
Taking up a cloth with her other hand, she added, "Brave men slay dragons, because dragons are fearsome beasts. That is why they are gone."
She continued, "A merchant once told me that dragons hatched from the moon."
Daenerys was both curious and puzzled. "The moon?"
The new handmaiden nodded. "He told me the moon is an egg. There were once two moons in the sky, but one wandered too close to the sun and cracked from the heat.
"A million dragons poured forth from the cracked moon. They drank the sun's fire, and that is why dragons can breathe fire.
"He said that one day the remaining moon will also kiss the sun, and it too will crack, and the dragons will return to this world."
Borona, who was drying cloths by the hearth, spoke up. "But I heard people say the moon is a goddess, the wife of the sun. I cannot believe the moon is an egg."
Daenerys smiled lightly. "Anything is possible."
With that, her violet eyes turned to the fossilized dragon eggs. She wished they were real dragon eggs.
...
Daenerys, dressed in a silk nightgown, lay in bed playing with the deep green dragon egg. In the moonlight, its scales shimmered with a bronze sheen. It was beautiful... Sometimes she even felt she could draw strength from the petrified dragon within the egg, making her stronger and braver.
Daenerys Targaryen fell asleep with a faint smile.
...
The next morning, Jorah Mormont requested an audience with the silver-haired princess.
Daenerys had a rare good night's sleep. She was in high spirits and greeted him first. "Good day, Ser."
Ser Jorah's tall frame stood before Daenerys. He placed a hand on his chest. "Good day, Princess Daenerys."
Daenerys smiled. "Ser Jorah, what brings you to me?"
Ser Jorah glanced at the smiling, silver-haired princess and said, "Princess Daenerys, because of the tourney His Grace Viserys is holding, too many outsiders have flooded into the city. There were many robberies last night. The people are uneasy."
Daenerys set down her teacup, her expression grave as she asked, "Many outsiders? How many have come, approximately?"
Ser Jorah replied, "An estimated thousand people."
He added, "It's not just that public order has become chaotic; sanitation is now also a problem. The city reeks of a foul stench everywhere, and the people's discontent is growing by the day. This is very dangerous, Your Grace."
Daenerys thought for a moment. "Ser Jorah, do we not have enough soldiers to maintain order?"
After a pause, Ser Jorah looked at Daenerys and sighed. "Your Grace, we must also set aside a portion of our soldiers to act as guards to maintain order at the tourney."
(end of chapter)