Chapter 3 Chapter 3 Captain of the Guard

"The blood oranges are ripe," the Prince remarked in a weary voice.The captain of the guard pushed his wheelchair onto the balcony.For a long time after that, he didn't speak. He was right about the blood oranges.Oranges kept falling and bursting on the reddish marble floor.Every time Hota took a breath, the rich sweet smell filled his nostrils.The Prince no doubt smelled it too, for he sat under the orange tree in Maester Carlot's wheelchair with ebony and steel wheels and goose down cushions. For hours, the only sounds were the children playing from the fountain, and the occasional soft "click" as another orange dropped.

Afterwards, the captain faintly heard the sound of boots stepping on marble on the other side of the palace, like drums. Obara came.The way she walked was familiar to him: striding, jerky, cranky.In the stables outside the palace gate, her horses must have been sweaty and bloody from spurs.She always rode a stallion, and she had been heard boasting that she could tame any horse in Dorne...and any man.The captain of the guard also heard the sound of other footsteps. It was the bachelor Carlot chasing after him in small steps. Obara Sand was always going too fast.She is always chasing what she can never catch, the captain of the guard once heard the prince say to his daughter.

When she appeared under the triple arch, Areo Hotah swung his long ax across the way, blocking the way.The ax was mounted on a six-foot ash handle, and she couldn't get around it. "Miss, don't go forward," he said in a deep, deep voice with a Novus accent, "don't disturb the prince." Before he spoke, her expression was like a rock, and now it was even more gloomy. "You're in my way, Hotah." Obara was the oldest of the Sand Snakes, a tall, close-set eyes in her late thirties, with mouse-brown hair like the whore that gave birth to her in Oldtown. same.She wore a mottled dark gold sand silk cloak, and her riding suit was an old brown leather jacket that had been worn soft and snug—that was the softest part of her body.She had a whip coiled around one hip, and a bronze and iron buckler hung behind her back.She had left the spear outside, and for that, Areo Hotah thanked God.He knew very well that this quick and strong woman was no match for him...but the other party didn't think so, and he didn't want her blood to be spilled on the pale red marble floor.

Maester Carlot shifted his weight back and forth between his feet. "Miss Obara, I told you..." "Does he know my father is dead?" Obara demanded the captain of the guard, ignoring the maester like a fly—if a fly was stupid enough to buzz around her head, it would surely fall. Moldy. "He knows," said the captain of the guard, "that he has a letter from the crow." The black wings, the message of death, and the small characters are sealed in the solidified red wax.Carlot must have sensed the contents of the letter, so he gave it to Hotah to present.The prince thanked him, but he did not open the seal for a long time.All afternoon he sat with the parchment on his lap, watching the children at play, until the sun went down and the night air grew cooler.Then he gazed at the stars on the water until the moon rose, and finally let Hota bring a candle so he could read the letter in the dark under the orange tree.

Obara reached for the whip. "Thousands are walking across the desert, up the Bone Road, to join Ellaria to bring my father home. The sept is full, and the red priests light the temple's night fire, Whorehouse women slept with every man who came to their door, and refused all money. In Sunspear, in Broken Arm Point, along the Greenblood River, in the mountains, in the desert, everywhere, Dorne All over the land! Women are tearing their hair, men are howling with rage. Everyone is asking the same question—what is Doran doing? Our Prince has been murdered, how is he going to avenge his brother?" She moved closer to the captain of the guard. "But you said, don't disturb him!"

"The Prince must not be disturbed," Areo Hotah repeated. The captain of the guard knows the prince he guards.Long ago, a young man came here from Norvos, an inexperienced young man with broad shoulders and thick black hair.Now grizzled and battle-wounded . . . but his strength was still there, and his longaxe was always sharp, just as the bearded monks had taught him.She can't go there, he told himself, "The Prince is watching the children play. Don't disturb him while he's watching the children playing." "Hotta," cried Obara Sand, "get out of my way, or I'll take the poleaxe—"

"Captain," came the order from behind, "let her in. I'll talk to her," said the prince hoarsely. Areo Hotah put away the poleaxe and stood aside.Obara glared at him a few times before striding over, and the maester hurried to follow.Carlot was no more than five feet tall, with a head as bald as an egg.His face was so smooth and plump that it was hard to tell his age, but he had served House Martell longer than the captain of the guard, even serving the prince's mother.Despite his age and weight, he was still quite quick and quick-witted.However, he has a gentle personality and cannot fight against any "sand snake", the captain of the guard thought to himself.

In the shadows under the orange tree, the prince sat in a wheelchair, his gouty legs propped up in front of him, deep bags under his eyes... Whether his insomnia was due to grief or gout, Hotah had no way of knowing.In the fountain pool below, children are still playing.The youngest among them is only five years old, and the oldest is nine or ten years old.Half girls, half boys.Hotah heard them splashing water at each other, and drinking back and forth in high-pitched voices. "Not so long ago, you were a child in the pool, Obara," said the Prince, and Obara dropped to one knee in front of his wheelchair.

She snorted, "It's been almost twenty years, and I haven't been here long. I'm a whore's son, have you forgotten?" He didn't answer, so she stood up, hands on hips. "My father was murdered." "He died in a duel in a trial by combat," said the Prince of Dornish. "It is not legally murder." "He's your brother." "yes." "He's dead, what are you going to do?" The Prince struggled to turn the wheelchair to face her.Doran Martell looked much older, though he was only fifty-two.His limp body was distorted under the linen robe, and his legs were unbearable to see.Inflammation had left the joints red and swollen and oddly shaped: the left knee was an apple, the right a melon, and the toes were dark red grapes so ripe they seemed to burst when touched.The weight of a single sheet was enough to make him tremble, yet he bore the pain without complaint.Silence is a king's friend, the Captain of the Guards had heard him tell his daughter. Words are like arrows, Arianne, once shot, they cannot be taken back. "I have written to Lord Tywin—"

"Writing letters? If you had half my father's backbone—" "I'm not your father." "I know that." Obara's voice was full of contempt. "You want me to declare war." "I know it's impossible. You don't have to get out of your wheelchair. Let me avenge my father. You have an army at the Pass of the Bone, and Lord Yronwood has another at the Boneroad. Give them to me and Na May commands. She advances on the Kingsroad while I deal with the lords of the Frontier and round Oldtown." "Oldtown? How are you going to hold it?"

"Looting is enough. The Hightower wealth—" "What you want is money?" "What I want is blood." "Lord Tywin will send the head of the Mountain." "Then who will send Duke Tywin's head? The Mountain is just his lackey." Pro-Dynasty Sink made a gesture. "Obaia, look at those children, if you will." "I don't like it. I'd rather stick a spear in Lord Tywin's stomach and make him sing 'The Rains of Castamere', and I'll pull out his guts and see if there's any gold in them." "Look at those children," the Prince repeated, "I order you." Several older children lay face down on smooth reddish marble, soaking up the sun.The rest walked up and down the beach in the distance.Three of them were building sand castles, towering spiers like the spear towers of the Palais Vecchio.Another twenty or so children gathered by the big pool to watch the water fight.In the pool, children ride on the shoulders of older children, pushing each other in waist-deep water, trying to knock each other down.Whenever a group goes down, the water splashes, and there are always loud laughs.They saw a brown-haired girl push a fair-haired boy over his brother's shoulders and drop him headfirst into the water. "Your father played the same game, and I played it before him," said the Prince. "There was a difference of ten years between us, and I left when he was old enough to play in the pool, but every When I came back to visit my mother, I would watch him play. He was fierce from a young age, and as quick as a water snake. He used to take down boys much bigger than himself - he mentioned it to me the day he set out for King's Landing , He swore that he could do it this time, he would definitely do it, if he didn’t say that, I would never let him go.” "Let him go?" Obara laughed. "You think you can stop him? Dorn's Red Viper can go wherever it wants." "Indeed. I just wanted to comfort—" "I don't want your comfort." Her voice was full of sarcasm. "The day my father came to claim me, my mother was reluctant to let me go. 'She's a girl.' She said, 'And I don't think she belongs to you. I've had a thousand men.' He threw the spear on the I stomped, and then slapped my mother backhand, making her cry. 'Boys and girls, each has its own struggle,' he said, 'the gods let us choose our weapons.' He pointed to the spear, then to the Mother's tears, and I picked up the spear. 'I told you she was mine,' my father said, and took me away. A year later, my mother drank and died. They said she died with Crying." Obara approached the prince in the wheelchair. "I want a spear and nothing more." "It's not an easy request, Obaya, let me think about it." "You've been thinking about it for too long." "Perhaps you are right. When I make a decision, I will immediately send someone to Sunspear City to look for you." "Your decision must be war." Obara turned and strode away, as angry as she had come.She went back to the stables, put on a new horse, and galloped down the road again. Maester Carlot remained. "My lord?" asked the fat and short bachelor, "Does your leg hurt?" The prince smiled feebly. "Is the sun hot?" "I'm going to get a painkiller?" "No. I have to keep my sanity." The maester said hesitantly, "My lord, is it wise... to let Lady Obara return to Sunspear? She will stir up the people. They love your brother very much." "We love him too." He pressed his finger to his temple. "Yes. You are right. I must hurry back to Sunspear too." Maester Carlot was a little uneasy. "Is that wise?" "It's not a wise move, but it's very necessary. Send a messenger to Ricasso quickly and ask him to pack up the suite in the Tower of the Sun. Tell my daughter Arianne that I will be there tomorrow." my little princess.The captain of the guard misses her very much. "You will be seen," the maester warned. The captain of the guard understood the meaning.Prince Doran's gout had not been half as bad as it had been two years before, when they had left Sunspear for the peace and seclusion of the Water Gardens.In those days, he was still able to walk, albeit slowly, on crutches, and each step was accompanied by pain.The Prince didn't want his enemies to know how weak he had become, and the Old Palace and its Shadow City were full of spymen.It was full of eyeliner, and it was also full of stairs that he could not climb. The captain of the guard thought to himself that he would have to grow wings to reach the Tower of the Sun. "I must be seen. If the situation is not controlled, it will inevitably develop to the point where it cannot be controlled. The people of Dorne must be reminded that they still have a prince." He smiled weakly. "Although he is old and suffers from gout." "If you return to Sunspear, you will have the audience of Princess Myrcella," Carlot said. "The White Knight is with her...you know, he will write to the queen." "I think he will." white knight.The captain of the guard frowned.Ser Arys escorted his princess to Dorne, just as Areo Hotah escorted the prince's wife.Oddly enough, even their names are somewhat similar: Areo and Alex.The similarities end there, however, as the Captain of the Guard has left Norvos and its bearded monks entirely, while Ser Arys Oakheart remains on the Iron Throne.The Prince had sent Hotah to Sunspear on several occasions, and whenever he saw the man in the snow-white cloak, he would feel inexplicably sad.Someday, he felt, the two of them would fight to the death; and then Oakheart would die, crushed in the head by the captain of the guard's longaxe.Thinking of this, he couldn't help running his hand up and down the ash handle of the axe, wondering whether the day was far or near. "The afternoon is almost over," said the Prince, "and we will set off in the morning. My litter will be ready at dawn." "Of order." Carlot bowed and saluted.The captain of the guard stood aside to let him pass, listening to his footsteps fade away. "Captain?" The prince's voice was very weak. Hota walked forward holding the long axe, and the ash wood felt as smooth as a woman's skin in his palm.He walked up to the wheelchair and stamped the handle of the ax on the ground, but the prince only had eyes for the children. "Have you any brothers or sisters, Captain?" he asked. "When you were young, in Norvoth? Did you have any?" "Both," said Hotah, "two older brothers and three older sisters. I am the youngest." The youngest, the least popular.That means another starving mouth, another boy who overeats, and clothes that won't fit anytime soon.No wonder they sold him to bearded monks. "I am the oldest," said the Prince, "and now I am the only one left. When Morse and Olifa died in infancy, I gave up the idea of ​​brothers. I was nine years old when Elia was born, and I was Salt Coast squire, crows bring news that my mother is giving birth a month early, and I'm old enough to know that means the baby won't survive. Even when Lord Gogenlus tells me I've got a sister , I also asserted to him that she would die soon. But she survived, Mother Mercy, and though her body was at the root of her disease, she survived. A year later, Oberyn was born. They were in this pool When I played, I was a man; today I sit here, and they are gone." In this regard, Areo Hotah didn't know what to say.He was only a captain of the guard, and even after all these years he was still a stranger to the land and its seven-faced gods.allegiance.obey.guard.He made his vows at sixteen, the day he married Tomahawk.Simple vows, simple people, so said the bearded monks.No one trained him to comfort the grieving prince. Just as he was thinking about what to say, another orange fell down with a "pop", and the place where it landed was less than a foot away from the prince.Doran was stunned when he heard the voice, as if he was hurt by being hit. "Enough," he sighed, "enough. Leave me alone, Areo, and let me watch the children play for a few more hours." As the sun set and the air became cooler, the children went indoors for their supper, while the Prince remained under the orange tree, looking out at the calm pool and the sea beyond.A servant brought him a bowl of purple olives, along with light bread, cheese, and quinoa bean paste.He ate a little and drank a glass of sweet, strong red wine, which he loved.When he was done, he filled another glass.Sometimes, in the dark hours before dawn, he would fall asleep in his wheelchair, and only then would the captain of the guards push him down the moonlit porch, past a row of carved beams and through elegant arches, Came to a room by the sea, which had a big bed covered with crisp linen sheets.Doran groaned as the captain of the guard pushed the wheelchair, but gods be good, he didn't wake. The bedroom of the captain of the guard is adjacent to that of the prince.Sitting on the narrow bed, he found a millstone and an oilcloth from a corner, and began to work.Keep the longaxe sharp, the bearded monks had told him the day he branded him.He is always the same. As Hotah sharpened his axe, he thought of Norvos, of the upper city on the hill and the lower city by the river.He still remembered the ringing of the three bells. Numu's deep roar shook every bone in him, Nala's voice was proud and majestic, and Neil's was like a crisp laugh.The taste of winter cakes fills the mouth again, with ginger, pine nuts and a bit of cherry inside, and it is usually drunk with nasa - "nasa" is fermented goat's milk mixed with honey served in an iron cup.He fancied seeing his mother in the dress with the squirrel fur collar, which she wore only once a year, on the family day when the bears danced along the Sinner's Staircase.The bearded monk pressed the branding iron to the center of his chest, and he smelled singed hair, and the pain was so severe he thought his heart had stopped.However, Areo Hotah didn't back down, and the hair on the ax brand never grew back. After both sides of the ax were sharp enough to shave, the captain of the guards laid down his beloved wife made of ash wood and steel on the bed.Yawning, he took off his dirty coat, threw it carelessly on the floor, and stretched out on the straw bed.Thinking of the branding made him feel a little itchy, so he had to scratch it before closing his eyes.I should pick up those fallen oranges, he thought, dreaming of their sweet-sour taste and the sticky red sap from his fingers in his sleep. Dawn came too soon.Outside the stables, the smallest of the three carriages was ready, with a cedar body and red silk curtains.The captain of the guard selected 20 of the 30 spearmen stationed in the Flowing Water Garden to accompany him as an escort, and the rest stayed to guard the Li Palace and the children, many of whom were the children of princes and wealthy merchants. Although the Prince said he would start at dawn, Areo Hotah knew he would be delayed.The maester bathed Doran Martell and bound his swollen joints with sackcloth soaked in soothing liquid.The captain of the guard put on a suit of bronze scale armor and a fluttering yellow-brown sand silk cloak to keep the sun from shining directly on the bronze armor.It seemed to be a hot day today, and the captain of the guard had long since given up the heavy horsehair waistcoats and iron-trimmed leather jackets he wore in Norvos, which would have cooked the men inside them in Dorne.But he kept the iron halfhelm with the sharp spikes, and wrapped the spikes in orange silk, and the silk was wrapped around the peak—otherwise the sun would hit the metal, and he would have a headache before returning to the palace. When he was ready, the prince still hadn't set off.He decided to have breakfast before he left: a blood orange, a plate of gull eggs ham fried with ham and fire pepper.He had to say good-bye to some of his favorite children: the Dart boys, Lady Blackmond's children, and a round-faced orphan whose father had sold cloth and spices along the Greenblood.Doran had kept the rich Myrish blanket over his lap as he spoke to them, so that the young men would not see his bandaged, swollen joints. It was past noon when they set off on the road, the prince sat in a sedan chair, Maester Carlot rode a donkey, and the rest walked.Five spearmen walked in front, five behind, and five more on each side of the litter.Areo Hotah walked on the left hand side of the prince's sedan chair with the long-handled ax on his shoulder, which was the position he was most familiar with.From the Fallingwater Gardens to Sunspear was the coastal road, so there was a cool breeze as we passed the barren reddish-brown sandstones and twisted stunted trees. On the way, twenty "sand snakes" stopped them. She appeared suddenly on the dunes, riding a golden sand warhorse with a mane like fine white silk.On horseback, Miss Nyme also looks very elegant, she is wearing a shimmering lavender gown, and a large cream and brass silk cloak flutters with every gust of wind, and she looks as if she is about to take off into the air .Nymeria Sand was twenty-five, slender as a willow branch, with straight black hair braided in a long braid tied with red-gold cord, and her forehead stood out above her dark eyes, just like her father's.High cheekbones, full lips, and creamy skin gave her a beauty her sister lacked... and Obara's mother was an Oldtown whore, and Nyame was of the noblest blood in old Volantis .A dozen mounted spearmen followed her, their bucklers glinting in the sun.They followed her down the dunes. The Prince has rolled up the curtains to enjoy the breeze from the sea.Miss Namei came to him and slowed down the beautiful golden mare to keep up with the pace of the sedan chair. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Uncle," she said loudly, as if she just happened to meet the prince, "Can we go to Sunspear City together?" The captain of the guard walked on the other side of the sedan chair, opposite to Miss Namei, but he could hear clearly Every word she said. "I would like to," replied Prince Doran, though the Captain of the Guards sounded reluctance. "Gout and sorrow are bad companions." The captain of the guard knew that every pebble would prick his swollen joints like needles. "Gout I can't help," she said, "but my father needn't grieve. Revenge is more to his taste. Did Gregor Clegane really confess to killing Elia and her children?" "He yelled so loudly that the whole court heard his crimes," the prince confirmed, "Lord Tywin promised to give us his head." "A Lannister always pays his debts," said Miss Nyme. "It seems to me that Lord Tywin is paying our debts with our own money. Dear Ser Daemon sent me a bird, he It is asserted that my father stabbed the monster more than once during the duel. If so, Ser Gregor would be dead, and Tywin Lannister gave nothing." The prince snorted.Whether it was because of the pain in the joints or what the niece said, the captain of the guard couldn't say. "Perhaps so." "Perhaps? I say yes." "Obaia wants me to declare war." Namei laughed, "Yes, she wants to burn Old Town to the ground. She hates that city as much as my little sister loves it." "how about you?" Namei looked back at her followers, they were all walking far behind. "I was in bed with Fowler's twins when the news came," the captain of the guard heard her say. "You know the Fowler family motto, don't you? Let me fly! I just ask you to give me that. Let me fly, uncle." .I don't want an army, I just want a dear sister." "Aubara?" "Trenee. Obara is too noisy, and Tyene is so sweet and gentle, no one will suspect her. Obara is going to turn Old Town into her father's funeral pyre. I am not so greedy. Four lives are for me Enough said—repay Elia's children with Lord Tywin's golden twins, the old lion repay Elia himself, and finally the little king, who repays my father." "That little boy did nothing to us." "The little boy is a bastard born of treachery, incest, and adultery—if Lord Stannis is right." The sarcasm faded away, and the captain of the guard found himself watching her through narrowed eyes.Her sister Obara wore a whip and carried a spear for all to see, but Miss Namey was just as dangerous, and she always kept her dagger well concealed. "The king's blood will atone for the murder of my father." "Oberon died in a duel, and for a cause that had nothing to do with him. I cannot call it murder." "Call it what you will. We sent the best of Dorne to King's Landing, and they sent back a bag of bones." "He went above and beyond my orders. 'Weigh the little king and his court carefully, noting their strengths and weaknesses,' I told him from the balcony, while we were eating oranges, 'if you can, get us Investigate what happened to Elia, but don't annoy Lord Tywin too much,' that's what I said. Oberyn laughed and said: 'When have I 'too' annoyed someone? You might as well warn Lannis Te, don't piss me off.' He wants justice for Ilya, he doesn't want to wait—" "He waited for seventeen years," Miss Namei interrupted. "If you were the one who was killed, my father would have risen up before the bones turned cold and made a big northern expedition; Spears will sweep the frontier." "I don't doubt that." "Neither should you doubt, my lord—remember, my sisters and I will never wait seventeen years for revenge!" Followed by. The Prince leaned back on the pillow and closed his eyes, Hotah knew he wasn't asleep.He is in pain.For a moment he considered calling Maester Carlot to the litter, but Prince Doran would call him himself if he needed it. The afternoon shadows were long and dark, and the sun was as red and wide as the prince's swollen joints, and to the east they could just make out the towers of Sunspear.First the slender Tower of the Spear, a hundred and fifty feet high, topped by a gilded iron spike, adding another thirty feet to the height of the tower; It was a dun sandship, like a galleon washed ashore and turned to stone. A mere three leagues of coastal road separates Sunspear from the Watergardens, but they are two different worlds.In Ligong, children play naked in the sun, music is played in the tiled courtyard, and the air is full of strong smells of lemons and blood oranges; hustle and bustle.The Watergardens were of reddish marble, and Sunspear of tan dirt and straw.The ancient stronghold of House Martell stands at the easternmost end of a small sandy peninsula, surrounded on three sides by the sea, while to the west, in the shadow of Sunspear's massive walls, adobe shophouses and windowless huts cling to it like The barnacles are attached to the hull of the ship.Stables, inns, taverns, and brothels popped up farther west, many of them with their own walls, but the huts for human habitation mostly leaned against the walls.And so, year after year, as the bearded monks say, the Shadow City is but a small town compared to Talos, Myr, or the great Norvos, yet it is owned by the Dornish The closest thing to a city. Miss Namie arrived a few hours first, no doubt she notified the guards.For when they arrived, the triple door was already open.These doors are arranged in sequence, allowing visitors to pass directly through the triple curved wall to reach the Palais Vecchio, without having to walk for miles, winding their way through narrow streets, hidden courtyards and noisy bazaars. As soon as the Tower of Spears came into view, Prince Doran closed the curtains of his litter, but the crowd still yelled at him relentlessly. The "Sand Snakes" have already stirred up excitement, the captain of the guard thought uneasily.They passed through the filthy outer city and entered the second gate.The wind inside the door carried the smell of asphalt, salt water, and rotten seaweed, and the crowd grew thicker with each step. "Make way for Prince Doran!" Areo Hotah shouted as he hammered the brick floor with the handle of his long-handled axe. "Make way for Prince Dorn!" "The prince is dead!" a woman screamed after him. "Take up the spear!" a man roared from the balcony. "Doran!" cried one of the nobles, "take the spear!" Hota gave up trying to find speakers. There were too many, and a third of them were shouting. "Take up the spear! Avenge the Red Viper!" At the third gate, the guards had to push through the crowd to clear the way for the prince's sedan chair.People started throwing things, and a ragged boy rushed through the spearmen's blockade, holding a half-rotten persimmon in his hand, but he let go when he saw Areo Hotah blocking the way, with his long ax in position , let the persimmon fall to the ground, and ran away in a hurry.In the distance, others threw lemons, limes and oranges, chanting: "Fight! Fight! Take your spears!" A guard was hit in the eye by a lemon and an orange fell on the foot of the captain of the guard himself . There was no response from the sedan chair.Doran Martell remained hidden within the silk curtains until the thick walls of the castle completely submerged them, the iron gates creaked down behind them, and the shouts died away.Princess Arianne and half of her courtiers greeted her in the outer court, including the aged and blind steward Ricasso, the acting lord Ser Manfred Martell, and the young Maester Meath in gray robes with a spray of silk in his silky beard. perfume, and forty Dorne knights in their flowing raiments.Little Myrcella Baratheon stood with her sister and Ser Arys of the Kingsguard, still in his sweltering white enamelled armor. Princess Arianne strode up to the sedan chair. She wore sandsnakeskin sandals with laces tied up to her thighs. Her black jade-like hair was curled into small curls and fell down her back. There was a circle of sun on her forehead. Shaped copper tiara.She's still that little one, thought the captain of the guard. The "sand snakes" are tall, but Arianne is like her mother, only five feet two inches, but under the jeweled belt and the baggy purple and yellow silk satin gown that blows in the wind, she has the roundness of a woman's body . "Father," she announced when the curtains parted, "Sunspear is delighted to have you back." "Yes, I heard the voice of joy." The prince smiled faintly, holding his daughter's cheek with a swollen hand. "You look good. Captain, please help me down." Hota inserted the long ax obliquely into the lanyard on his back, and hugged the prince with both arms.He moved gently so as not to irritate the prince's swollen joints, but even so Doran Martell had to swallow a painful gasp. "I have ordered the cook to prepare a supper," said Arianne, "with all your favorite food." "I'm afraid I have no luck." The Prince looked slowly around the courtyard. "I didn't see Tyene." "She asked to speak with you in private. I told her to wait in the Throne Room." The prince sighed. "Very good. Captain, can I trouble you again? The sooner things here are over, the sooner I can rest." Hota carried him up the long stone steps of the Tower of the Sun to the huge rotunda under the dome. The last ray of sunlight in the afternoon slanted through the stained glass, casting mottled patterns on the pale marble. rhombus.Thirty "sand snakes" were waiting for them. She sat cross-legged on a bolster under the raised platform, but when they entered, she stood up immediately.She wore a tight gown of pale blue satin, with intricate Myrish lace cuffs that made her look as pure as a virgin.She holds embroidery in one hand and a pair of gold needles in the other, as if she is rushing to make female reds.Her hair was blond too, and her eyes were deep blue pools... yet somehow they reminded the Captain of the Guard of her father, though Oberyn's eyes were black as the eternal night.Prince Oberyn's daughters had his eyes, the eyes of a viper, and Hotah suddenly realized that color didn't matter. "Uncle," said Tyene Sand, "I have been waiting for you." "Captain, help me sit on a high seat." There are two seats on the high platform, which are almost identical, except that the back of one of the chairs is inlaid in gold with the Martell family's coat of arms piercing the sun, and the other has the sunburst pattern of the Rhoynar people. It was this design that flew from the masts of Nymeria's ships when they first came to Dorne.The captain of the guard placed the prince on the lance seat and stepped back. "Does it hurt?" Miss Tyene's voice was very soft, and she looked as lovely as a summer strawberry.Her mother was a nun, which gave Tyene an almost unearthly innocence. "What can I do to ease your pain?" "Say what you want, then let me rest. I'm tired, Tyene." "I embroidered this for you, Uncle." Tyene unfolded the crimson she was embroidering just now. On it was her father, Prince Oberyn, riding a sand horse, wearing red armor, smiling slightly. "After I finish, I will give it to you so that you can remember him." "It is impossible for me to forget your father." "I'm glad to hear that. Many people have doubts." "Lord Tywin promised to give us the head of the Mountain." "He was kind... but an executioner's sword is not worthy to end gallant Ser Gregor. We have prayed for his death for so long, and believe he is praying for it himself now. I know what poison my father used, and what method, and nothing beats that A slower, more painful death. Soon, even here in Sunspear, we will hear the Mountain's screams." Prince Doran sighed. "Obaia calls for war. Nami is content with murder. What about you?" "War," Tyene said, "but not the kind my sister wants. The Dornishmen are good at fighting at home, so let's sharpen our spears and wait for them to attack. When the Lannisters and Tyrells fell on us来时，我们要让他们在各个山口流血不止，把他们埋没在滚滚黄沙下，正如从前上百次那样。” “他们会来进攻吗？” “噢，他们当然会，他们付不起国家再度分裂的代价—正是为了避免这点，巨龙家族才跟我们联姻。父亲对我说，我们要感谢小恶魔，感谢他把弥赛菈公主送来。她真漂亮，您不觉得吗？我真希望自己有她的鬈发。她天生就是母仪天下的料，如同她母亲。” 酒窝在特蕾妮脸颊上绽开。“倘若能有机会来亲手安排婚礼，并负责监制王冠，我会非常荣幸。崔斯丹和弥赛菈都是纯洁的好孩子，我想用白金……加绿宝石，以配衬弥赛菈的眼睛。噢，钻石与珍珠也很合适，只要孩子们能够顺利结婚并且加冕。接下来我们只需高呼拥戴弥赛菈一世为安达尔人、洛伊拿人和'先民'的女王，七国统治者的合法继承人，然后等待狮子的到来。” “合法继承人？”亲王哼哼着说。 “她比她弟弟大，”特蕾妮解释，仿佛当亲王是个傻子。“根据律法，铁王座应该传给她。” “根据多恩的律法。” “当贤王戴伦迎娶弥莉亚公主，将我们并入他的大一统王国时，他答应多恩可以保留自己的律法。弥赛菈恰巧就在多恩。” “她确实人在多恩。”他语调勉强。 "Let me think about it." 特蕾妮娇嗔道：“您考虑得太多了，伯父。” "yes?" “父亲这么说的。” “奥柏伦考虑得太少。” “有些人考虑得太多，是因为他们害怕行动。” “害怕与谨慎有区别。” “噢，那我祈祷您永远不会害怕，伯父。希望您一切安好。”她举起一只手…… 侍卫队长连忙将长柄斧往大理石地板上狠狠一跺。“小姐，你不要忘了自己的身份。请远离高台，谢谢。” “我没有恶意，队长。我爱我的伯父，就跟他爱我父亲一样，我知道的。”特蕾妮在亲王面前单膝跪下。“我已经讲完来此要说的话了，伯父。若有冒犯，请您原谅，因为我的心已经裂成了碎片。您还爱我吗？” “一如既往。” “那为我祈福吧，然后我就走。” 道朗犹豫片刻后，将手放在侄女头上。“勇敢起来，孩子。” “噢，我怎么会不勇敢？我是他的女儿。” 她刚告辞，卡洛特学士便立刻奔上高台。“亲王殿下，她有没有……来，让我看看您的手。”他首先检查手掌，然后轻轻翻过来，嗅了嗅亲王的手指。“没有，好的，这就好。没有刮痕，所以……” 亲王抽回手。“师傅，麻烦你给我弄点罂粟花奶好吗？一小杯足够了。” “罂粟花奶。好的，当然。” “现在，让我考虑考虑。”道朗·马泰尔轻轻催促，于是卡洛特匆匆走下楼梯。 外面太阳已经落下，拱顶内的光线成为昏暗的蓝，地板上的菱形渐渐消退。亲王坐在马泰尔家族金枪贯日纹章的高位中，脸色因疼痛而变得苍白。长久的沉默之后，他转向阿利欧·何塔。“队长，”他说，“我的卫兵有多忠诚？” “绝对忠诚。”侍卫队长不知还能说什么。 “他们所有人？还是其中一部分？” “他们是最优秀的。优秀的多恩人。他们会遵从我的命令行事。”他将长柄斧往地上一跺。“任何叛徒，无论是谁，我都会把他的人头带来。” “我不要人头。我要服从。” “大家服从您。”效忠。obey.守护。单纯的誓言，单纯的人。 “需要出动多少人？” “这由你决定。不过全体出动或许比二三十个人有效。我希望尽量处理得迅速平静，不流血。” “迅速，平静，不流血，好的。您的命令是什么？” “搜捕我弟弟的女儿们，统统扣押，关到长矛塔上。” “扣押'沙蛇'们？”侍卫队长嗓子干涩，“所有……所有八个，亲王殿下？那些小家伙也一样？” 亲王考虑半晌，“艾拉莉亚的女儿们还小，不至于构成威胁，但别有用心的人或许会利用她们来对付我，最好也控制起来。是的，那些小家伙也一样……但先抓特蕾妮、娜梅莉亚和奥芭娅。” “遵命。”他心中忐忑不安。我的小公主是不会喜欢这道命令的。“萨蕾拉怎么办？她已经长大成人，快二十岁了。” “除非她回到多恩，否则放过她吧，萨蕾拉比她的姐姐们更有头脑。随她去……玩游戏吧。把其余人抓住，控制起来，我才能安睡。” “好的，”侍卫队长犹犹豫豫地说，“若这消息传播到市井之中，百姓们会咆哮抗议。” “整个多恩都会咆哮，”道朗·马泰尔疲倦地说，“但愿泰温大人在君临能够听到，这样他就会知道，他在阳戟城有一个多么忠诚的朋友。”