Chapter 26

“A raven has arrived, Khaleesi,” Ser Jorah Mormont, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, informed Daenerys Targaryen, Queen of Westeros rather abruptly.

“What does it say? Have you read it, Ser Jorah?” Dany turned to her oldest adherent, the most loyal of her supporters.

“Yes, my Queen, I have. It is from Cotter Pyke, Commander of Eastwatch-by-the-Sea. It seems that there was a brief naval clash ... with the Dead. The Night King attempted to sail around the Wall. He was stopped for now, but at the cost of some men, notably Benjen Stark, Howland Reed, Thoros of Myr ... and Daario Naharis,” Ser Jorah let that last bit of bad news sink in really hard.

“Uncle Benjen ... dead? I thought that he was dead once, only to learn that he was only half-dead from Sansa and Theon. And Howland Reed ... a very close friend of Father ... sorry, Uncle Ned. It still takes some getting used to the idea that the man who raised me as his bastard son was my uncle, not my father. Thoros of Myr ... a Red Priest famed for wielding a flaming sword into battle. Far better known as a warrior than for anything priestly, I can tell you that much. What of Tormund Giantsbane, of Theon Greyjoy, of Sandor Clegane, the Hound ... of Lord Beric Dondarrion?” Jon Snow, King of Westeros, reacted to this news.

“Daario Naharis ... former Captain of the Second Sons, former Governor of Meereen. Now dead at the hands of the Night King, who is trying to build a navy? Well, this is very bad news, but I will give him that he has atoned for losing a city to the slavers at least. With his life, no less. I lost any real affection for him some time back, but he was once my lover, as you know, my King,” Dany told Jon, who was still in a bit of shock as to how the Dead attempted to get around the Wall.

“All of the men who you named are yet living as of this message, my King,” Ser Jorah assured Jon of that fact.

“Along with Cotter Pyke, rather usefully. I suppose that Theon will get his reunion with Yara sooner rather than later, it seems. I wonder who else will be reunited by all of this march north,” Tyrion Lannister, Hand of the King and Queen, broke his silence now.

“Meanwhile, this has arrived. News from the Riverlands. A short, but sweet battle has destroyed the last Lannister force of any significance in the Riverlands near the Twins. It appears that they were attempting to ... to cross south to the Westerlands ... and take ship from Lannisport for who knows where. Lord Edmure Tully, despite being still rather weak, personally led the Riverlands force.

“Lord Edmure gave the three unwed knights commanding this force a very difficult choice: swear fealty and marry a Walder Frey bastard bride or die. None chose death, surprisingly enough. Every single Lannister man other than that was permitted to either go home or agree to serve under Tully banners. This will mean ... going North to fight the Dead, of course,” Lord Varys smirked now.

“That’s one way of reducing the number of Frey bastards in the Twins, I suppose, plus securing the loyalty of the prisoners. Lord Edmure Tully is now head of what remains of House Frey as well as House Tully, so it makes sense that the provision of these brides is very costly to him as it was to the late Lord Frey. I have heard rumors of him bedding some of the Frey girls, but perhaps just the pretty ones or ones that didn’t offend Roslin Frey somehow,” Ser Bronn of the Blackwater, Lord of Castamere and Lord Commander of the City Watch, noted.

“Ser Bronn, will you be able to govern and defend this city better than that other sellsword, Daario Naharis, did with Meereen?” Dany turned to Bronn, who nodded.

“I have the City Watch with me, the Gold Cloaks, I’m recruiting new soldiers for it daily, and they understand me. I don’t have former masters resenting the loss of slaves. I don’t have Sons of the Harpy. I don’t have the Free City of Volantis and its allies breathing down my neck. I have some connection to the people that I would rule in your stead, my Queen. And I don’t give a wet shit about religion, power, pride, or any of that. I just want to earn my castle, fuck Bernadette and some whores, make a little coin, and live to actually rebuild the place. That’s good enough for me. I’ll do alright, I reckon,” Bronn shrugged.

“Very well, because we are marching now. Farewell, my old friend, and may we actually live to meet again. Perhaps, someday, I’ll host a fine banquet and serve you the Imp’s Delight to celebrate a son or daughter by my former and future bride, Lady Sansa Stark of Winterfell,” Tyrion smiled as he contemplated getting to bed Sansa this time around.