Chapter 21 3 страница

Now Nox was just plain astonished. The man's ambition had clearly overridden his sense of self-preservation given that he was either completely ignorant or just uncaring about the cold rage that was steadily building in the Warden of the North. " My wife of three and ten years has been dead for not even a full year yet and you expect me to take another wife already? No. I have no need for another wife as I have secured House Stark with three sons and two daughters. And as for Jon… His fate and when he is ready for marriage is when Lord Nox determines that his training under him is complete. And not a moment before. "

He could feel Walder's greedy gaze shift from Ned to himself and then back. " Heh, you can never have too many children, Stark. There's nothing sweeter than a young flowers honey to have all to yourself… And unlike some women, a Frey girl knows her duty in carrying a son to birth. "

Jon, Robb, Ned, and the GreatJon all involuntarily took a step away from him as the temperature in the room plummeted. At the high table, the young Lady Frey suddenly started shaking while Ser Stevron started blowing into his hand, wondering how and why he could suddenly see his breath in the air. And Walder, the old fool was helpless to do anything but stare at Nox as he calmly and slowly took a few steps towards the Lord of the Crossing. With a calmness that surprised even himself, Nox focused his full attention on the old fool who was clearly doing everything in his power not to piss himself. " I do hope, Walder Frey, that your words were merely just a slip of the tongue and not an intentional slight against my wife who lost our child after being stabbed in the womb by a man who sided with traitors and broke the laws of gods and men. "

Walder, showing an incredible lack of self-preservation, merely snorted. " Recent events speak for themselves, sorcerer. Though, what more could you expect after marrying a low-born whor—? "

Nox moved without thought, his right hand rising in the blink of an eye as the small coin purse he kept on his waist was shredded as the coins within tore themselves free on his command. The gold flew faster than the eye could follow, crossing the distance of the hall in less than a fraction of a second. The silver cup in Walder's hand shattered and several strands of his hair fell listlessly to the ground as five gold coins cut through both as if neither was there before embedding themselves into the back of Walder Frey's chair.

Lowering his arm, Nox slowly approached the high table. The Lady Frey was cowering against the arm of her chair, making herself as small as she could while simultaneously trying to put as much distance between herself and her husband as possible. Ser Stevron Frey had knocked his chair back, his hand on the hilt of the short sword at his waist. But unfortunately for the heir to the Twins, he was unable to draw the blade no matter how hard he tried as Nox kept the blade within its sheath with only minimal effort on his part. And as for Walder, the Lord of the Crossing was frozen stiff in fear as Nox poured a constant stream of the dark side of the Force off himself and into the old man.

Reaching the high table, Nox increased the flow of the dark side within him, making Lord Frey break out into a cold sweat and for the Lady Frey to faint in her seat. " We came here to pass your bridge and head home, yet you impeded our path. Hoping to use the death of your traitorous son to induce a sense of guilt within us and then leverage our desire to return in order to expand your own feeble concept of power by tying your House to House Stark through marriage. Lord Eddard heard your proposal, and politely denied the immediate request. Far politer than he should have in my opinion. But you took it as a slight. And then you lashed out and insulted my wife. I have killed greater than you for far less. "

Pausing, Nox raised his hand, finger extended towards the man's racing heart. " It would be so easy. An old man like you. Your heart is on its last leg as it is. A simple touch with the Force, and your heart would falter and fail. Leaving you to suffer in agony as you clutched at your chest, begging for one more moment of life. " The unmistakable smell of urine permeated the air as the Lord of the Crossing lost control of his bladder, the sight and smell bringing a smile to Nox's face. " But, lucky for you, I don't feel like dealing with the fallout your death would no doubt cause. Even if killing every Frey within this castle would be easier than my morning exercises. So, this is what is going to happen. Embedded in your chair are five gold coins. That is your toll, Lord Walder and allow us passage across the Twins. Should you, or any of yours feel the need to impede us further, then I will sink the Twins into the Green Fork with every Frey still trapped within its walls. Do we have an understanding, my Lord? Good. "

Turning on his heel, Nox didn't wait to hear the response from the Lord of the Crossing as he used the Force to throw the doors to the hall open, allowing him to march out. Ned was quick to follow his lead, not even bothering to offer the Lord Frey a customary acknowledgement before turning and following Nox out of the hall, leaving the GreatJon, Jon, and Robb hurrying to catch up with the two of them. In the yard outside, all the guards in the immediate vicinity were on high alert, their hands on their weapons. But wisely, all of them thought better of getting in the way of a clearly irate Lord Stark and Nox as they retrieved their horses and made their way out of the keep.

Once they were clear of the walls of the Twins, Ned spoke for the first time since Nox had taken over the 'negotiations'. " I doubt that was as courteous as Walder is used to. "

Nox just snorted. " The man needed a lesson in humility. And a reminder that he is but a small fish in a very big pond. "

" Aye, leave off it, Ned, " the GreatJon added, slapping Nox on the back with a meaty hand. " If Nox hadn't done anything, I would've shoved that fucking goblet of his down the weasel's throat. A first-born son and daughter for just a simple crossing! Ha! Then to go an insult the women of the North…hells. If Maege was there, she would've made sure the man would be shitting pieces of her mace for the rest of his life! "

Grimacing, Ned snapped his horse's reins, urging the beast into a slight trot.

" Master, " Jon said, riding up next to him. " What you said back to Lord Walder…about sinking the Twins with everyone in it…were you—? "

" I wasn't jesting, Jon, " Nox replied, turning towards his apprentice. " Should the Freys impede our progress, then I will sink the Twins into the river. I won't enjoy it, but I will do it. I made the threat. If I do not follow through on my threat then word will spread. And once word gets out that either I, your father, yourself, or your brother are not willing to carry out on the threats that are made, then your word will come to mean less than pig shit. "

Jon didn't seem pleased by the answer, but he wisely didn't press the issue and instead rode in silence beside Nox as the small group rejoined with the rest of those following them north. Sitting astride her horse at the front of the group was Lady Mormont, the fierce Lady of Bear Island had her mace in hand and her eyes fixed solely on the Twins. " So, do we have any coin left to us, Lord Eddard? Or are we taking some simpering Frey whelp back with us to wed an unsuspecting Northerner? "

" The toll has been paid, " Ned said, shooting a quick glance towards Nox. " And there shall be no Freys accompanying us to the North. "

One of Maege's brow rose as she turned her attention from Ned to Nox. " Forgive me for assuming, Lord Stark, but I take it that the sorcerer here handled the negotiations? Is there a new Lord of the Crossing then? "

" No, " Nox replied as everyone prepared to make their way across the Twins. " But Walder's pants and possibly even his chair will need to be destroyed as I doubt even the most skilled scullery maid would be able to get them clean once more. "

Throwing her head back, Maege let out a loud deep laugh that sent the nearby wildlife scrambling to flee. " By the old gods, sorcerer… You are something else! If your woman wasn't who she is, then I'd be tempted to see just how far your passion went! "

" Anything is possible, Lady Mormont, " Nox smirked as he noticed the gates of the Twins remaining wide open for them and the people within scrambling to give them a clear route across the bridge. " But that's a discussion for another time. For now, let's just get across this bridge and get back into the North before the Late Frey loses what little sanity I scared back into his aging head. "

Standing on one of the numerous docks lining the bay of Pentos Asher Forrester, second born son of Lord Gregor Forrester, was still trying to reconcile in his mind that what was happening was actually happening as he watched numerous workers carefully unload the cargo from the Northern vessel tied off before him. Barely a year had passed since he'd made his peace with never being able to return to his home after his father was forced to banish him once his love affair with Gwyn Whitehill had become common knowledge. And while part of him despised his father's cowardice for banishing him, time had given him perspective and made him realize that his father had indeed made the right choice in sending him away. And now, here he was. About to board a ship that would return him to the North with his father's and Lord Stark's blessing. And not only was he being allowed to return to his home…he was also returning to a betrothal to the one woman he truly loved and rulership of his own keep! And if that wasn't enough of a twist of fate, the one aiding in his return home was none other than Domeric Bolton, the exiled son of the now eternally disgraced Roose Bolton. If anyone had any doubts that the gods had a twisted sense of humor, they need only look at him to erase such doubts.

" I've never seen a vessel quite like this one Asher. "

He didn't need to look beside him to know who was speaking. After all, the two had been almost inseparable since they came across one another three moons ago when he was on the road to Meereen. " Not surprisingly Beskha, " he said to the woman who had saved his life almost as many times as he'd saved hers. " The Wolf's Howl is a scaled down version of the Sea Wolf, the dreadnaught that was designed by the Sorcerer himself. And it's probably the first one of its kind to actually leave the North. "

" Designed by the Sorcerer, hmm? " Beskha hummed, her interest in the ship much more noticeable, though obviously not because of any interest in the sea. " Tales of that man have spread far even here in Essos. A sorcerer greater than the Warlocks of Qarth. A statesman who can talk circles around even the representatives from the Iron Bank. And a warrior without equal while he holds a blade in his hand. There are even some, mostly those fire burning fanatics, that even consider him some long-lost prophet come to deliver the people from the darkness of their sins. Though some of the more…entertaining tales say he is sin itself and partakes regularly in any and all delights offered to him. "

Shaking his head, he took a wide step away from his friend to give her a wide breadth. " Careful now, Beskha. Don't want you to have to wring out your small clothes before we make way. And besides, best put those thoughts to the side. Last I heard, he had a woman who is now his wife. By all accounts, she is not someone you want to trifle with and not just because she is married to the sorcerer. "

Beskha merely shrugged. " Hasn't stopped me before. Him having a wife just makes it even more exciting. Coming from experience here, Asher: there are few things in life that can top having a go at a husband and his wife at the same time. "

Shaking his head at his friend's antics, Asher left the woman sellsword to her fantasies as he walked down the length of the dock to… Well, he wasn't quite sure just what he was going to do. He wasn't even sure what he could do now seeing as how the dock hands of Pentos and the sailors of the North seemed to have had a good handle on the unloading of the ship. So, instead of helping with the manual laboring, Asher was left with nothing more than to think over his life. His banishment. The months he'd spent in Essos trying to start a new life. And then his fated run in with someone he couldn't even remember in Volantis who did little more than hand him a letter stating that his banishment had been lifted and that he was to make all haste for Essos and seek out the other exiled Northern who would see to his return home.

He'd been more than slightly skeptical at the time, as had Beskha, and had initially dismissed the strange letter and the one who delivered it to him. But after a few days of fighting tooth and nail just to get enough to fill his belly, his desire to return home won out and he and Beskha left Volantis behind and made for Pentos. Ideally, the two would've traveled by ship from Volantis to Pentos as it was the faster and safer option to take. Unfortunately, that option was not available to them as neither had enough coin for even one of them to book safe passage, let alone both. So, they were left with no other option than to walk. Which wasn't a very attractive option as the roads in Essos were plagued with Dothraki, slavers, bandits, sellsword companies, escaped slaves or just plain idiots with a blade and nothing left to lose.

But for the first time in his life the old gods of the North seem to take pity on him. They had managed to complete the long walk from Volantis to Pentos with only a single short skirmish against a handful of bandits. Which in and of itself was a blessing because they were able to liberate a couple of horses from the fools. Then there was his meeting with the Northerner living in exile, Domeric Bolton. To say their meeting was tense was an understatement. At least from Asher's perspective. While having never met the heir to the Dreadfort before in his life, the man's name was enough to put Asher on edge. But surprisingly, Domeric was about as far from a Bolton as a Stark was from a Tyrell. He was actually…courteous. And for some reason seemingly completely at ease with his lot in life, which now dictated that he live out the rest of his days here in Essos. 'A chance to start anew, ' Domeric had explained to him when Asher pressed the issue. 'Away from the stigma that my house has unfortunately placed upon ourselves over the years. '

Asher could do little but agree with the sentiment. Even in the North, the Boltons garnered little love from the people. Fear, yes. But love and respect? Those were aspects that the Boltons never had. And it was the reason why they were never able to overthrow the Starks no matter how many times they tried to do so. And Asher could admit that Domeric actually had a good thing going in Essos. He'd only been in Pentos for a few moons or so, and already he'd managed to become the primary merchant that dealt with the Northern trade in glass and other items that the North produced that were considered 'exotic' and therefore coveted by the people of Essos. He'd garnered more coin in a moon's turn than Asher had seen in his entire life. Enough to not only buy a decently sized manse but to also purchase enough 'servants' to staff it as well. Hells, the man even had enough coin left over to purchase a few Unsullied guards as well. While the exiled Bolton's sudden wealth was something that many would wish for, Asher was not one of them. Coin was all well and good. But he knew from experience the traders of Essos were ruthless. Especially those from the Disputed Lands. By trading in Northern glass and other exotic exports, Domeric was brazenly thumbing his nose at Myr and more than a few other suppliers. And Asher would be willing to lay down a fair amount of coin to say that the man already had at least one contract out on his life.

But despite that, he still felt no small amount of resentment towards the exiled Northerner. Asher had been exiled and had to leave the North with only the clothes on his back, a sword, and an axe. Domeric gets exiled, and the bastard gets set up as a wealthy merchant with premier trading rights with the North.

'And speaking of the bastard…' Asher thought as he watched Domeric appear at the edge of the docks with two Unsullied guards flanking him on either side.

The exiled Northerner took his time in examining each of the carts that were being loaded up, which was understandable considering just how much coin was being invested in this transaction. Seemingly satisfied, Domeric gave off a few sharp commands which sent his servants scrambling to get the carts moving to their next destination. " Lord Bolton, " Asher greeted the man as the ex-heir to the Dreadfort approached him.

Domeric appeared to either not notice his tone or he just didn't care. And given the history of his family, Asher was willing to bet it was the latter. " I'm not a Lord anymore, Lord Forester. At least not one that is recognized by Westeros standards. My father's folly saw to that. " Domeric greeted him cordially, his hands behind his back as he joined him in watching the Northerner's begin preparing the vessel for their eventual return trip to the North.

" Yeah, well…you'll forgive me for not shedding a tear over that, " Asher replied, trying his best to keep his tone neutral. Not an easy feat considering it was because of the Bolton's relationship with the Whitehill's that was the true tipping point in his father's decision to send him into exile.

" Few did, " Domeric shrugged, seemingly unfazed. " Even I struggled to mourn his passing after what he did. And even then, it was more over the family that I lost rather than the individual himself. But enough of the past, I would speak now of the future. This ship will be returning to the North at first light tomorrow. Until then, I would like to purchase the services of both yourself and your sellsword companion. One hundred gold dragons a piece for the night. "

Asher eyed the Bolton warily. One hundred gold dragons was certainly nothing to scoff over. But the question was: what job for a single night was worth such an expense? " What's the job? "

" Nothing untoward I assure you, " Domeric replied. " Tonight, after the sun goes down, the cargo for the return voyage North will be arriving. And while I have taken many precautions, there is still the outside chance of things potentially going wrong. Having two extra skilled blades standing guard will put my mind at ease. "

" I see, " Asher mumbled, trying to piece together what this 'cargo' could be, but failing to do so. " And what is so special about this cargo that it requires loading at night and extra swords to make sure that nothing goes wrong? "

Domeric didn't move his body, but Asher could see his eyes darting around the docks. " Somethings are best left unsaid, Lord Forrester. You will find out for yourself tonight if you take the job. Or tomorrow when the ship set's sail. Only should you find out in the morning, you will find yourself without the hundred gold dragons. Now, do we have a contract, or no? "

Asher was still uncertain about all of this, but one hundred gold dragons for both himself and Beshka for a simple night of guard duty was enough to put his uncertainty aside for now. " Very well, " he nodded, holding out his hand. " We have a deal. "

Domeric took his hand and gave it a firm shake before pulling out a light purse and handing it off to him. " An advancement of twenty gold dragons for the two of you. Do whatever you two wish to do for the rest of the day. But I insist that you both are sober by the time night falls. "

" Don't worry, " Asher replied lightly, giving the purse a shake and smiling at the sound of coins clinking within. " Beshka and I are professionals. We know what's expected of us. "

The former heir to the Dreadfort gave him one last look before bidding him farewell and leaving the docks. Once he was gone, Beshka strode up to him, her eyes firmly attached to the small purse in his hand. " What happened? "

" We've been hired to oversee the loading of the ship tonight after the sun sets, " Asher explained, opening the purse and separating out ten gold dragons which he then handed over to her. " One hundred dragons apiece, and twenty as an advancement. "

Beshka eyed him warily as she took the offered coins. " A hundred dragons apiece…to guard the loading of a ship during the night? "

" Yeah, " Asher nodded slowly, pocketing his share of the advancement. " I don't trust it either, but still. A hundred dragons is still a hundred dragons. And the ship sails at first light, so it's not like we'll be around for long to face whatever consequences come of…whatever in the hells is going to happen. "

Beshka pursed her lips in thought then shrugged. " You're right. But when this shit all goes tits up, I'm blaming you for getting us into the mess. But before that happens, I'm going to go find the best and most expensive whore in the city to entertain myself with before nightfall. "

" Who needs the best whore's when the cheaper ones are the most fun? " he called out as his friend made her way down the docks.

Laughing, Beshka shook her head and turned around to face him while still walking away. " See, I knew that I liked you for a reason! "

Shaking his head, Asher decided to indulge himself in a cup or two as well before nightfall and made his way off the dock to find the nearest tavern for a cup and bed for a few hours. When night had finally fallen upon Pentos, Asher made his way back to the ship that would soon be taking him home. Unsurprisingly, Beshka had beaten him back and was sitting at the end of the gangplank sharpening one of her swords. What was surprising though was the fact that it seemed like the entirety of the crew that sailed the Northern ship were also ready to aid in whatever was about to go down.

" Beshka, " he greeted her at the end of the dock. " Any coin left in your purse? "

Smirking, Beshka sheathed one of her blades. " I know how to stretch my coin, Asher. The finest whore I could find who could do the most amazing feats with her tongue along with the finest bottle of wine…and I still have most of my coin. "

" A bottle of wine? " Asher questioned, giving her a look. " Are you sober? "

" I must be, " Beshka shrugged. " You're still not pretty enough to fuck. "

Shaking his head, Asher turned and sat down on an overturned crate next to Beshka. " So, any signs of our host, cargo, or trouble? "

" No, no, and no, " Beshka answered immediately before looking up and sighing. " Almost makes me wish I'd stayed in that whore's bed for the night. Doubt that young lad…Bolon or whatever, would even notice if one of us wasn't here tonight. "

Just as he was about to comment, he noticed something. A shifting of a shadow out of the corner of his eye. Tightening his grip on the hilt of his sword, he scanned the pier with a critical eye until he caught sight of what he'd seen. " Well…a night with a whore would be pleasurable. But that aside, I don't think tonight is going to be boring. "

Blinking, Beshka looked up at him before following his line of sight. " Oh, fucking wonderful, " she muttered, rising to her feet with Asher as no less than a dozen men started coming out from the shadows.

Drawing his sword, Asher took a few steps down the dock while behind him he could hear his fellow north men start scrambling about their ship. At first he thought the intruders were a sellsword company given their number, but as he looked them over he noticed that none of them were wearing any form of armor and only one carried a sword while the others had only axes and daggers that were in rough shape. 'Bandits. Or just an unfortunate lot looking to make a quick bit of coin by plundering a ship. '

" It's late out for an evening stroll, boys, " Asher commented, as he and Beshka approached the group near the end of the dock. " Best you all turn around and head home and we can all rest easy tonight and wake in the morning. "

The mismatched group of thieves looked from Asher and Beshka to the ship and then back again. " Sellsword? " The only one with a sword asked with a thick accent.

" For the moment, " Asher replied. " Now, how about you lot just turn around and get the fuck out of here before something bad happens to you? "

The man in the lead didn't seemed deterred, and neither did those who stood with him. Though whether that was because they didn't understand him or not, he didn't know. " No need fight, " the man with the sword said, pointing towards the ship. " Take ship, we pay you. Much coin be had. Split. Even between us. "

" Yeah, that isn't how this works, " Asher said slowly, readying himself for the fight that he knew was inevitable now. " A sellsword turning so readily on the one who hired him or her is a sure way to end their time as a sellsword. "

The man with the sword narrowed his eyes and pointed his rusted sword towards him. " Two. Two-and-ten. Join. Or die now. "

Turning his body so his sword arm was in front of him, Asher slowly reached to the small of his back where he kept a throwing dagger with his off hand. " Let me think about it, " he said, drawing the dagger. " How about…fuck off and die. "

Before anyone could move, Asher brought his left around and threw the dagger as hard as he could. The blade went end over end before coming to a stop right in the throat of the man nearest to the leader with the sword. The leader yelled out something in a language Asher did not understand before raising his blade and charging at the two of them with his 'men' right behind him. Not that it did them any good, as the sailors onboard the Northern vessel had not waisted the time Asher had given them. Before the would-be attackers could even cover half the distance across the dock, the sailors on board the ship all stood up from their crouched positions behind the railing, bows in hand and arrows knocked. Being sailors first, they weren't perhaps the best shots out there, but they still did their part in killing off half the attackers before they reached Asher and Beshka. And from there, it was all but over. Despite being outnumber three to one, Asher and Beshka had experience in fighting whereas their foes had none. Beshka was able to kill two with her first strike. The only one that proved to be any sort of challenge at all was the one who'd brought a sword. But even then, Asher was able to disarm the man and claim his head in less than five moves.

" Pathetic sobs, " Beshka spat, kicking a now headless body off the dock and into the water.

" Aye, " Asher agreed, using his foot to push the ringleader's corpse into the water. " Still though, makes me wonder what the hell Bolton is sending back to the North. Whatever the hell it is, it's apparently worth enough to make these fools risk both the sailors onboard and the city watch to claim it. "

" Well, I think you'll soon have your answer, " Beshka said, using her bloodied sword to point towards the end of the dock.

Following the path of her blade, Asher found no less than a dozen covered wagons escorted by perhaps a dozen more Unsullied walking towards them. And sitting on the lead wagon was Domeric Bolton. Though Asher's eyes were drawn far more to the beautiful older woman sitting on Domeric's left. He loved Gwyn and she was to be his wife, if Domeric was to be believed, but that didn't mean he was blind or couldn't appreciate beauty when he saw it. 'By the gods old and new…who is that? '

" You're timing is terrible, Bolton, " Asher called out, accenting his point by kicking the last of the freshly made corpses into the water. " You missed all the fun. "

" You and I have different definitions of the word 'fun, ' Forrester, " Domeric said as he and the beautiful woman dismounted from the wagon, the later immediately moving around to the back as Domeric approached Asher and Beshka. " Though, it seems I was correct to hire you two for extra protection tonight. I'll have to investigate just how word of the loading time leaked out… This cannot happen again. Too much is at stake for us to fail. "

" Right, " Asher said slowly, sheathing his sword. " Well, if so much is at stake, then perhaps you wouldn't mind letting us in on the reason for the late-night loading of the ship and the extra guards? "

Domeric looked around and then motioned for Asher and Beshka to follow him around to the back of one of the wagons where the beautiful woman was standing and speaking in a foreign tongue. " I can do better than 'one' reason, Asher Forrester. I can give you seventy-three reasons why we are doing what we are doing. "

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