Dark red, five-pointed leaves, resembling human palms, swayed peacefully. A faint sound drifted from the trees, as though they were trying to say something.
There was almost no undergrowth here. Only a few sparse bushes of elderberry, wolfberry, and bird cherry broke the monotony, along with grass and fallen leaves scattered across the ground. The forest stretched far into the distance, the farthest trees dissolving into a reddish twilight. Shafts of light pierced the foliage here and there like spears, forming a picture of almost unreal beauty. Somewhere nearby, birds chirped.
For several minutes, we simply stood at the edge of the cliff. The fishermen still had not dared to leave the boat and now looked up with open curiosity, waiting to see what the king would do. Ser Bonifer Hasty and Jacob Liddon remained aboard as a precaution, so the fishermen would not be tempted thought of slipping away.
"What are your orders, Your Majesty?" finally rumbled mighty Ser Lyle Crakehall, clearing his throat.
The words No One So Fierce were the motto of his house, and the men of Crakehall were always renowned for their ferocity, strength, and that very fierceness. Even now, in peacetime, his voice was hoarse and rough, as if battle had never truly left him. Lyle's right hand—thickly covered with blue-black hair—rested on the hilt of his sword, while his brown eyes carefully scanned the surroundings.
"While we wait,"I tried not to pay attention to the confusion visible on the faces of my companions. "Stay where you are. Don't wander off. Don't make noise. Don't light any fires."
What to wait for, and for how long? I had no answers to those questions. I had come here by listening to the voice of intuition. And now it told me that there was no need to hurry.
We did not have to wait long.
"Attention," Arys Oakheart said quietly, and we all tensed.
Deep within the forest, the guardsman noticed movement. Looking where he pointed, I could see three tall, thin figures approaching us.
"Who are they?" Jaime asked in confusion.
"They don't look much like people," Herald Orm, usually silent, observed quietly.
The guardsmen moved to stand close beside me, just in case. In silence we watched as the masters of this place drew nearer.
They walked calmly, unhurried, and stopped ten paces away.
Now, up close, I suddenly realized how tall they all were—the man in the center stood nearly seven feet. The two women at his sides were a little shorter, yet the gauntness of all three only added to their height.
In a strange way, they both resembled humans and did not. Their dark green skin unmistakably marked them as something other than human, yet their two arms, two legs, and almost human facial features argued otherwise.
All three possessed strikingly bright green eyes, gazes filled with calm wisdom and a faint detachment.
They wore garments that appeared to be woven from leaves—I could not tell whether it was an unfamiliar fabric or truly living foliage. Each carried a wooden, gnarled staff carved with symbols resembling runes.
The legends gave only the barest descriptions of the dwellers of the Isle of Faces. They called them the green men, yet spoke nothing of how they lived, what they did, or what aims they pursued. And certainly, those we saw could not have been the Children of the Forest—for by every account, the Children were smaller than men, and altogether different.
"Name yourself, guest," the man said calmly, his gaze sweeping over us all before settling on me, as though he had guessed to whom he should speak. His long, fine hair was held back by a headband. A narrow nose with a slight ridge sat in perfect harmony upon his elongated face.
The women remained silent, their eyes fixed on mine. They were exotic in their beauty—slender waists, smooth curves of the hips, and small breasts barely discernible beneath their garments.
"I am King Joffrey."
My voice sounded calm, without unnecessary pathos, simply stating my personal status.
"Why have you come to our island?"
"Not long ago, my heart told me that I needed to come here," I said. At first, my answer seemed overly pretentious—perhaps even a little ridiculous. The green people's faces, however, remained completely impassive, and I soon realized that these words sounded entirely appropriate in this place.
Silence followed. The green people regarded us wordlessly, and we did not know what to do or say.
"We knew you would come, King," one of the women said unexpectedly.
"Come. The Elder is waiting for you," the man said, gesturing with stately grace for me to follow. He turned with elegance, and without the slightest doubt that I would go after him, walked back into the depths of the forest.
Catching Jaime's gaze, I shrugged imperceptibly, signaling that we had no real choice.
We walked on in silence through the forest. Tall, mighty trees surrounded us on all sides. It felt as though countless faces were watching us, their gazes thoughtful and unblinking.
Here, deep beneath the forest canopy, everything was unnaturally quiet. Only the soft rustle of our footsteps broke the stillness, and from time to time a passing breeze stirred the leaves overhead.
"It's kind of creepy here," Jaime remarked, and the others responded with a vague murmur of agreement. The Lord Commander did not show himself a coward, nor did we hear fear in his voice. He was merely stating a fact.In much the same indifferent tone, he might have said in battle: "Today we will die".
(End of Chapter)
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