Chapter 381: Another Red Priest
Qyburn sensed the non-negotiable tone in Egger's voice and fell silent.
Yesterday, he had witnessed the scholarly and amiable side of the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch; today, he saw the man's arbitrary and dictatorial side—though, in this context, dictatorial wasn't entirely a pejorative. Refusing advice is usually a terrible trait, but if the one holding firm does so through cold logic and keen judgment after careful deliberation, and is ultimately proven right, then that immunity to outside influence becomes a mark of greatness.
Whether to melt the sword or not was a matter of personal opinion, not a question of principle or objective right and wrong. However, as Qyburn mulled it over, he sniffed something more in Egger's final words: the Lord Commander seemed to hold Aegon the Conqueror and his sisters in somewhat low regard?
No, that wasn't quite it. It wasn't contempt so much as pride. His employer, the supreme commander of the Wall's garrison, seemed to believe that he would become a figure more renowned than the founder of the Targaryen dynasty and the conqueror who unified the Seven Kingdoms.
Was this arrogance, or supreme confidence?
The answer would likely be revealed only by time.
They wove through the crowded streets. Because Daenerys had recently flown her dragons over King's Landing to demonstrate her power, the sheer deterrent of dragonfire had resulted in fewer refugees seeking shelter in the city than in a typical war. The mouth of the Blackwater was significantly warmer than the Gift, but with winter fully descended and the high humidity from the river and sea, the air felt clammy and uncomfortable. One pleasant surprise, however, was that the city's infamous stench was noticeably lighter than Egger remembered. He wondered which deserved the most credit: the fleeing residents, the drop in temperature, or the fact that the Industry had begun building latrines?
A few ragged beggars huddled along the street, and the children who usually ran about barefoot were nowhere to be seen in the cold. They left the plaza and turned onto the Street of Steel, beginning the ride up the long slope of Visenya's Hill. Blacksmiths were busy at their forges all along the way, but customers were sparse for one simple reason: currently, every shop on the Street of Steel was forging war materiel for King Stannis's army and was forbidden from taking private commissions.
As they rode higher, the smithies became grander. Hierarchy existed in this trade just as it did elsewhere in King's Landing: the better the skill and higher the status, the higher the elevation. The man they sought lived at the very summit of the hill, nearly a hundred meters up, operating a massive armory of timber and plaster with stories that overlooked the narrow alleys below.
The shop's double doors were crafted from ebony and weirwood, carved with a hunting scene. A pair of stone knights guarded the entrance, clad in fantastical red steel armor shaped like a griffin and a unicorn.
Egger was not the only visitor. Several horses were already hitched to the posts outside, watched over by men, one of whom held a long, dark banner. Finding the best parking spots occupied, Egger chose to hitch the horses on the other side of the entrance. Leaving one man behind, he walked toward the shop door.
Before entering, he heard the sounds of an argument from within.
"My Lord, this equipment is reserved for King Stannis's commanders. You truly cannot take it!"
"Armor and weapons are forged to be used, are they not? Once equipped, we shall also be defending the Seven Kingdoms for His Grace. Why can't we buy them? Name your price; I won't short you a single copper!"
"It isn't a matter of money, my Lord... if we violate the King's command, we common folk will lose our heads!"
Egger had sent word ahead before entering the city. Upon seeing the group in black, a shop girl immediately guessed their identity and announced loudly, "Mr. Mott, the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch has arrived!"
Egger stepped through the doors and found himself, much to his annoyance, walking into a dispute. He felt a headache coming on; in the sales hall, which was filled with displays of weapons and armor, a group of unwelcome guests was cornering a man who was short but far from frail. The man wore a black velvet coat with hammers embroidered in silver thread on the sleeves and a heavy silver chain around his neck with a sapphire as large as a pigeon's egg. He was clearly no mere clerk.
Combined with the snatches of conversation he'd heard outside, it was easy to judge what was happening: someone was trying to force the purchase of non-sale goods, and the staff was refusing. Egger had suddenly appeared with Nina, Melisandre, Qyburn, and a squad of guards, interrupting this forced transaction.
His headache wasn't born of fear, but of the fact that he had zero time for knight-errant distractions. Tobho Mott's smithy was the finest in King's Landing, serving royalty and the Hand; anyone daring to make trouble here was no ordinary peasant. Egger's plan was to finish his business, head out through the King's Gate, board the Blackbird before dark, and sail back to the Gift with a ship full of saltpeter. If he got entangled in trouble, he wasn't afraid of being bullied—he had the numbers and a witch—but if they missed their window to leave the city, the hassle of finding lodging was secondary to the irreparable loss of a precious day.
Unfortunately, the man he needed was the shop owner, so turning back was not an option. He could only hope his large, well-armed escort of Night's Watch soldiers would overawe the situation and that the other party was reasonable.
The cornered shopkeeper, seeing Egger enter with a large retinue, treated them like a lifeline. He slipped away from the troublemakers and ran to Egger's side. Whether intimidated by the sight of the Night's Watchmen or not, the troublemakers didn't stop him, instead turning their gaze toward the new arrivals.
Being stared down by several pairs of eyes, Egger quickly sized up the opposition. The leader was a young noble with golden-red hair, wearing a black satin cloak embroidered with stars. A purple lightning bolt streaked across a night sky on his chest—Egger couldn't recall which house that belonged to. Following the noble was a lanky, freckled red-haired boy, a brute with a dagger and a longsword at his belt, and a somewhat portly, tall man in red robes.
Egger didn't recognize any of them, but the last man immediately caught his eye. In this world, because high-end dyes were expensive, few people wore such vibrant colors. He had only ever seen red robes this striking on Melisandre and on Moqorro, who was with Daenerys.
Who is this? Another Red Priest?
Egger looked toward the Red Priestess beside him for an answer. Without needing a prompt, she was already staring at the man in red with a deep frown and an unfriendly tone.
"Thoros of Myr. What are you doing here?"
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