Game of Thrones: Paladin of Old Gods

Chapter 118: ' No Bloody Sands! '

POV: The Spider Queen of Essos

Madame Zhao Urat's Reception Solarium.

Seconds after the expected guests walked through the door...

The couple seemed to hesitate for a moment after that stunning prelude.

"Welcome, my dears. Don't be shy and have a seat.

Thank you, Barudh. You may leave us alone." Said the gentle voice marked by age.

Madame Zishua Zhao Urat had just celebrated her seventy-sixth birthday. Although the woman from Meereen had reached a ripe old age, there were still a few strands of her original light brown hair left amidst her well-groomed grey hair.

The wrinkles on her face were less pronounced; only her hands, mottled with natural pigments due to old age, clashed with her enviable upkeep.

"Madame Zishua Zhao Urat, it is an honour and pleasure for my companion and me to make your acquaintance. I am Prince Oberyn Nymeros Martell, and this graceful beauty on par with your person is my beloved concubine Ellaria Sand." The Dornian made room for the woman.

"Madame Zishua, thank you for your hospitality", Ellaria bowed.

"I am dazzled and bewildered by your beauty so impeccably preserved. Sadly, age is beginning to creep up on me too, Madame.... So I beg you to reveal your secret to me. To what supernatural entity have you turned for the secret of immortality?" Asked the Dornian prince brazenly but elegantly after his bow.

The old woman chuckled, smiling at Oberyn's theatrical presentation.

"Mh! Mh! Mh! You are quite the flattering pepper, Prince Martell, I'll give you that. Charmed, my dear. Be my guest and spare the appellation 'Madame'. Zishua is sufficient if it pleases you.

Don't listen to that Dornian's ambulatory words.

You are far more beautiful and graceful than I could ever dream of appearing in my golden years." The couple took their seats on the comfortable long sofa lined with silks and feathered cushions.

There were no tables or thrones for this gathering, just a tiny table with three silver cups, some bottles and pitchers filled with hot or cold drinks to taste. Zishua loved etiquette and elegance, but she also liked to grant comfort and informality to her guests.

The owner of the estate resumed her sewing duties.

"I don't think I've overstated myself, Madame. Your humility only cast bad water on my sincere compliment." Said the young man in an affectionate tone.

"I give support to the words of my prince, Lady Zishua. I would thank the gods every morning should fate grant me this appearance upon reaching your venerable age." He adulated the young woman.

"Mh! mh! mh! You two make a perfect couple. Even deaf and blind people could feel the love and adoration for each other.

I am happy for you, my dears. I too was fortunate in the past to experience a similar bond with my beloved late husband, Nobaru Zhao Urat.

A Wise Master of Meereen who made a slave girl his noble bride, without caring about the oppositions of his family and the entire noble court in the Slave Bay." Said the woman closing her eyes for a moment in an attempt to remember the face of her beloved.

"A true 'Wise' Master and a great man. A rarity in Meereen." Praised the smitten young man in a sincere tone.

"Yes, he was. One is born every hundred years of such men in those cursed lands... I thank the Great Mother of Love every night for granting me so many happy years.

The moment I felt the luckiest woman in the world was when the healer of the house announced with deep regret that I could not bear any more children after the first abortion. I could not allow Nobaru the joy of new life. Yet...my husband held me as if I were the most precious jewel in creation.

...The night I lost my beloved was the darkest moment of my existence. Yet, only because of the individual whose support you covet, I still exist.

My free-spirited, slack-jawed godson, Zick, put every effort at his disposal to put a smile on my face and help me find the joy of love again. Even if it was that little boy of yore who had lost everything he loved most..." Zishua's eyes became wet as she smiled.

The woman lent herself a few moments to wipe away the beginnings of a tear.

"I ask your forgiveness... After all this time, I still get carried away by sad and happy memories past." Oberyn rose gracefully, gently picking up the linen handkerchief from the woman's hand.

He thoughtfully prepared to wipe a portion of her cheek, still slightly damp and stained by her makeup.

"Oh, thank you, young man... Psst! Shoo! Scram, you rascally rascal!

Go back to your seat and use those hands to ingratiate yourself with creatures more deserving of your touch." An admonishing slap made the Viper slip away.

"Emm, where was I...Yes, the point is, Prince Oberyn, I am well aware that that weasel, 'Zick's ward,' will have armed you with wise and disloyal advice to best ingratiate yourself with this poor sentimental old woman.

You'll have to do much better than that to convince me to grant Dorne permission to get the means she seeks.

The power that insolent and reckless 'brat with a witty eye' is capable of shaking the foundations of the world. If ill bestowed, chaos, pain, and destruction will befall millions of innocents." Oberyn nodded with a rugged look and replied:

"House Martell is aware of both the responsibility and respect such power deserves, Madame."

"Really, young man? Is the Nymeros Martell Royal Family really aware of this?

There is a reason I have dictated to Zick not to accept such requests lightly.

The Watcher would accept the plea of anyone who came to him to plead for his help.

The first crazed demons who were carried away by the euphoria of the moment unceremoniously shook nine of Essos' power centres, forcing them to join forces and spawn what you Westerosi today call the 'War of the Ninepenny Kings'.

I had to roll up my sleeves and scramble to put together the entire organisation's network from scratch to prevent the forces of the world from hunting down the natural person responsible for all that mess.

The outbreak of a Fourth World War could be prevented by pulling that fool's ears, forcing him to accept the vacant task of Guardian of Love and shoulder his responsibilities."

End POV.

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POV: Ellaria Sand

Madame Zhao Urat's Reception Solarium.

Soon after the origins of the new Guardian of Love were mentioned...

'The Ninepenny kings? Nine demons?" thought Ellaria a moment later.

The Dornian tried to remember all the infamous Band of Nine...

There was Ser Derrick Fossoway, The Bad Apple, a knight of Westeros, forced into exile for turning his manor into a den for brigands and criminals of all kinds...

Tom, dubbed 'Spotted Tom the Butcher', the captain of a company of mercenaries from the disputed lands whose name Ellaria could no longer remember...

Liomond Lashare, dubbed 'The Lord of Battle', another sellswords captain renown for never losing a battle against the Dothraki...

Xhobar Qhoqua, Known as 'The Ebon Prince', was an exiled prince from the Summer Isles.

Nine Eyes, a former Master of the Spies of Qarth, who, according to legends, was banished from the House of the Eternals and the council of the Pureborn...

Alequo Adarys, known as 'Silvertongue' and the 'Tyrant of Tyrosh', even after the defeat of the Nine, Alequo managed to maintain power over the free city for the next six years...

Samarro Saan, known as The Last Valyrian, was a Lysene pirate who boasted a genealogy older than Valyria.

The Old Mother was a favourite among the pages of history chronicling this war. A female pirate, the first to be nicknamed 'Pirate Queen'.

Her origins were not specific, but legends were told of a female pirate who struck terror throughout the Summer Seas and the Jade Sea and ruled an island in the Cinnamon Strait, making it one of the most critical piracy centres in all the known seas.

And last, worst of all, Maelys I Blackfire, better known as Maelys the Monstrous, the pretender who instigated the Fifth and final Blackfire Rebellion...

Not much was known about Maelys' past, other than that he had grown up in exile in Essos and was monstrously large and inhumanly strong. An individual capable of killing a steed with a single punch and ripping a man's head from his shoulders with his bare hands...

A second smaller head attached to his neck was proof that this contracture abomination was a kin killer even before birth. Maelys had eaten his twin in the womb to assume the constitution of two men.

In 257 A.C. Maelys came into the world, killing his cousin Daemon first so he could claim the right of succession and command of the Golden Company...

If one of these infamous 'Demons of The Watcher' was able to force such a monster to give up aims of conquest in Essos and try his luck in Westeros, it was certainly not an entity to be taken lightly!

"Madame Zishua, if I may." Ellaria interjected.

"Of course, my dear, speak freely." Zishua.

"We certainly did not come here to become the proponents of another Great War. But to survive it... Our friend and ally, Lord Duncan Tallhart, is convinced that within a few years, the next World War will break out whether we want it to or not.

The world has already been shaken. It will no longer be an 'if' but merely a when... Therefore Dorne has come here to implore your help, Madame." Oberyn grabbed and kissed his companion's hand, showing assent and praise to his wise Goddess.

"Phew... Wars, big or small, will permanently stain any page of world history, my dear.

Times of peace are rare and precious and must be cherished to last as long as possible...

You are right. Another Great War will loom over all of us, 'all of you' if I am lucky enough not to be forced to witness all that chaos, death, pain and misery...

There is still a chance to extend this period of peace for another generation if that dubbed Demon 'Bloody Snow' would cease to antagonize the Titan and the Lighthouse, opting for negotiation and compromise..." Zishua was interrupted.

"Never! Not after all the evil perpetrated! There can never be peace between Dorne and Oldtown!" ranted the Dornish Prince as he stood up. "Oberyn!... My love, sit with me. I ask your forgiveness, Madame..." Ellaria whispered sweet words into the ear of her fiery and passionate lover.

"Yes, my love... I invoke your forgiveness, Madame Zishua Zhao Urat. Such unkindness will not be repeated again... Please continue." Oberyn bowed and returned neatly to his seat.

Zishua put down the needle and prepared to pour a hot purple drink into three small glass cups.

"Infusion of dusk rose, my dears. It helps to soothe the souls and clear the thoughts. Go ahead and taste.

Fear not... I could technically poison you, maiden, but I still could not lift a finger without cause to a member of the Four Royal Families. Mh! mh! mh!" Laughed the elderly mistress jovially, sipping her herbal tea first.

Oberyn greeted the joke with a grin and allowed himself the taste of risk.

Ellaria did not like the play of words and looks between the two. Not after the prelude of the unwitting Magister of Lys, but she too indulged in the fragrant smell of the drink.

A very light aftertaste of honey accompanied the subtle bitterness of the flowers in a perfect balance of flavours.

Ellaria immediately perceived the relaxing effects of the mixture... It was like living the moment after a delicate massage of the temples.

"Tell me, turbulent young man, what do you think happened to the Wise Master who ordered the destruction of House Zhao Urat forty-four years ago? And what fate do you think the Noble House of Loraq suffered?" Madame Zishua asked.

"I suppose a painful death and a sad fate, Madame," Oberyn replied.

"Horat zo Loraq's heart stopped sixteen years ago as he delighted in the thighs of a Yunkai pleasure enslaved person.

His son and heir Nagud and his grandson Hizdhar zo Loraq live and tower on the Great Pyramid of Meereen. They trade and feast heedless and unaware of the actions perpetrated by the former Head of the family.

Do you know why the hell and the abyss have not devoured the Loraq Dynasty?" It was Ellaria who took the floor in place of her stunned lover.

"Because revenge would not restore your lost love."

"Bull's-eye on the first blow, my dear Ellaria.

Revenge is a poison that corrodes the strings of the human soul.

It is sweet and inviting on the surface, but it takes a tremendous toll that will generate an endless cycle of hatred, leaving nothing but ephemeral dust on your hands.

I would have liked to cut every slice of lard personally from that filthy pig who had robbed me of my Nobaru, my House, my life...

I wanted nothing more. I was even ready to give up all my possessions and ask the House of Black and White for help, but then I thought about what I still had left.

There was no way I would let my boy live in hatred. No...Zick deserved all the love in the world, and I would do whatever needed to be done to make that happen." Zishua sipped some more Tea and concluded her speech.

"House Manderly and Peake, Blackwood and Bracken, Baratheon and Targaryen... How much pain could have been saved, and how much love was gained if these dynasties had chosen to forgo revenge?

And the same will be true of House Martell and House Hightower, my dears, do not doubt it." Oberyn could not help but ask:

"Madame, but then that symbol you are embroidering? What is it meant to communicate if not a warning of vengeance?"

Zishua lifted the piece of cloth embroidered with extremely rare acromantula silk.

"Not a warning of 'revenge', Prince Oberyn, but of 'punishment'. Blood is the only ink that never fades, and fear are the letters that make up the lesson that must never be forgotten in this barbaric age.

There are two types of pain: the useless one, which spreads like a parasitic plague eager for new lives to be plucked, and the useful ones. That is the most effective means of learning hard lessons that must be learned so that the world can rise again stronger and better than ever...

Only that burn can teach the curious fools to never again put their hand on that blazing fire that illuminates that boy's life.

I'll be damned for eternity if I leave this world without first doing all I can to repay the debts that must be repaid.

The Watcher's most precious treasure must never be touched. And as long as I have breath in my body and my heart continues to beat, I will do everything to guard 'that treasure' for as long as I can...

I will summon the underworld's darkest and most abject forces, and I will lay waste to any wealth in the world to protect Zick's briefest spark of joy and love.

If destroying Dynasties, Kingdoms, and Continents is the price to be paid for the world to learn that nothing and no one should ever deprive of love the boy who most deserves it... so be it."

Goosebumps, cold sweat, and palpitation were the instant effects elicited by the tone of voice and the gaze of the elderly Mistress of Pentos.

Ellaria needed to squeeze her partner's warm hand more firmly to calm herself.

Oberyn stepped forward.

"You are a wise and powerful woman, Madame... Few individuals in these lands can boast such moral temperaments. You have turned the suffering you have endured into strength.

That is the power I seek. The strength that Dorne needs.

I have not come here to claim means of vengeance but to seek help from that entity that has managed to create the power necessary to protect what I remain to love.

My family, my beloved, my people...

House Nymeros Martell invokes the help of The Watcher to protect Dorne, Madame. Please help us." Said the Dornian, arching his head.

"Mmm... You're getting close, young man, but the Gentleman who came to me eight years ago was still on another level." After a few seconds of brooding, the spider huffed.

"Tsz! Power and moral temper, my ass!

If I hadn't allowed myself to be beguiled by the last begging Westerosi, maybe this whole mess wouldn't have broken out!"

"Tell me the secrets of this Gentleman, please, Madame. I am a humble, poorly educated Dornian who wishes to learn how to live up to begging for favours from the most resplendent creatures of this world." Ellaria struggled to choke back a laugh. Only her man could put on a show.

She loved Oberyn for his reckless, passionate, devious nature.

"Well, there... He was a gentleman of humble beginnings but with the bearing of a true knight.

His name was Tom, a captain in search of help.

Though he had no idea where he was or who he was talking to, he was always kind and never showed any pretence.

A rare man these days...

Ahh... Poor young man. It broke my heart to learn of his untimely demise in that silly war... " Zishua realized the trick played by the Dornian only when she lowered her gaze to find the smooth snake imprinted lovingly caressing her hands.

"You! You slimy little snake... Aren't you even ashamed of taking advantage of a lonely, emotional old woman?!

You won't learn anything else from me!" Oberyn showed a contrite puppy look.

"Come now, Madame. Thus you offend me! My interest in listening to your fascinating stories was sincere! Please continue..." Oberyn.

"No! Not one more word!

One finger! I have bestowed one damned little finger upon that Norse Demon to find myself without an arm anymore!

I've done nothing but embroider and sew for three days!" Madame Zishua snickered before massaging the base of her nose while closing her eyes.

Oberyn returned to his seat with a patient yet euphoric air. Unfortunately, the affable Viper managed to bite one of the spider's legs.

A few moments of silence passed, and then the Mistress spoke.

"Phew... The Smiling Lion sailed from Lannisport two days ago.

House Lannister will also soon arrive here to invoke my favour...

Will the Sun Pierced by a Spear and the Three-Headed Dragon put aside their grudges with the Golden Lion and cooperate?" Zishua.

"Yes, Madame. I swear it by all that I most love and revere. House Martell and House Targaryen will honour that promise." Oberyn.

"You had better, young man. The Giants you wish to hunt are older and more dangerous than you imagine...

One mistake, one discrepancy or distraction will be the end.

The Game in which the Rhoynar are about to participate will not be as merciful and ephemeral as in that stupid fight for the iron toy.

There's going to be some severe hurt here." The Red Viper nodded without looking away.

"... Good. My boy will bestow some guidance upon you, then. 'BUT', no more than ten disciples, and let them be well educated and responsible young men and maidens!

I don't want 'Bloody Sands' in my hands. Do I make myself clear?!" Zishua.

Ellaria was seized by a sob. Who better than she could recognize that look. She knew her man better than anyone else...

The Viper displayed thirty-two smiling poison fangs before replying:

"In a 'Crystal way', Madame."

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End Chapter.

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