Chapter 27 Chapter 27 Samwell

Sam stood at the window, shaking restlessly, watching the last rays of sunlight disappear behind a row of pointed roofs.He must be drunk again, he thought darkly, or just met another girl.He didn't know whether to curse or cry.Dareon was his brother.He sings like nobody else, but ask him to do anything else... The night fog rose, and wisps of gray mist climbed up the walls of the buildings beside the ancient canal. "He promised to come back," said Sam. "You heard that too." Gilly looked at him.Her eye sockets were red and swollen, and her dirty, unkempt hair hung around her face.Like a wary animal, she peers out through the bushes.It had been days since the last fire had been lit for warmth, yet wildling girls loved to curl up by it, as if there was still warmth in the cold ashes. "He doesn't like being with us," she said softly so as not to wake the baby. "It's a poor place, and he wants wine and smiles."

Yes, Sam thought, there is wine everywhere but here.Braavos is full of inns and taverns and whorehouses, and who could blame Dareon if he liked fires and warm wine, and stale bread, and the company of a weeping woman, a fat coward, and a sick old man? ?Maybe I'm entitled to blame him.He said he would be back before dusk, he said he would bring us wine and food. Again he looked out of the window with a glimmer of hope, hoping to see the singer hurrying home.Darkness is falling on the city of mysteries, creeping down the alleys and aqueducts.The good folk of Braavos shut their windows and bolted their doors.Night belongs to assassins and whores.They were Dareon's new friends, Sam thought bitterly. They were the only ones Dareon was talking about these days.He was trying to write a song for a whore named Moon Shadow, who gave him a kiss when she heard him sing by the Moon Pool. "You should ask her for silver coins," Sam said. "We need money, not kisses." But the singer just smiled. "Some kisses are worth more than gold, killer."

It also made him angry.Dareon shouldn't be writing songs for whores.He should sing of the valor of the Wall and the Night's Watch.Jon hopes that his song might persuade some young men to wear black.Instead he sang of golden kisses, silver hair, and fiery lips.Nobody wears black for red lips. Sometimes his songs wake up babies.The baby cries, and Dareon yells at him to be quiet, and Gilly weeps, and the singer storms off, not to return for days. "She keeps crying, I want to slap her a few times," he complained, "she makes me sleepless." If you gave birth to a son and it was taken away alive, you would cry too, Sam almost said.He couldn't blame Gilly for her grief, so he blamed Jon Snow instead, wondering when Jon's heart turned to stone.He had asked Maester Aemon the question once when Gilly was fetching water from the aqueduct. "When you elected him commander-in-chief," replied the old man.

Even now, waiting passively and decadently in this cold room, Sam still didn't want to believe that Jon had really done what Maester Aemon said.But that must be true, otherwise how could Gilly cry so hard?All he had to do was ask her directly whose baby she was nursing at her breast, but he didn't have the courage.He dreads the answer.I'm still a coward, Jon.In this vast world, no matter where he goes, fear follows him like a shadow. A hollow rumble echoed above the roofs of Braavos like a distant muffled thunder—it came from the Titans across the lagoon, signaling the coming of night.The noise woke the baby, and his sudden cries woke Maester Aemon.Gilly shoved the nipple to the baby and the old man opened his eyes and squirmed weakly on the bed. "Egg? So dark. Why so dark?"

Because you are blind.After arriving in Braavos, Aemon's deliriousness grew longer and longer. At times he seemed not to know where he was, and began to babble, babbling about his father or brother thing.He was a hundred and two years old, Sam reminded himself, but he had never been out of his mind at Castle Black despite his age. "It's me," he had to say. "Samwell Tarly. Your steward." "Sam." Maester Aemon licked his lips and blinked. "Yes. This is Braavos. Forgive me, Sam. Is it daylight?" "No." Sam touched the old man's forehead.His skin was damp and sweaty, cold and clammy, and every breath came with a slight gasp. "It's night, master, you fell asleep just now."

"Oh, I slept too long. It's cold in here." "We have no wood," Sam told him, "and the shopkeeper won't take credit unless paid for immediately." The same conversation was happening for the fourth or fifth time.I should have bought wood, Sam scolded himself every time, I should have kept him warm. Yet he wasted the last of his silver on the physician of the House of the Red Hand, a tall, fair-skinned man in a robe embroidered with red and white swirls.From him, the silver coins were exchanged for half a bottle of sleeping wine. "Helps ease his dying agony," said the Braavosi, not without kindness.Sam asked what else he could do, and he shook his head. "I have all kinds of poultices and potions, and I can also bleed him, cleanse his bowels, use leeches...but why bother? Leeches can't make him young. He's old and death has entered his lungs. Give him this , let him sleep."

So he let the master sleep all day and all night, and now the old man struggled to sit up, "We have to get on the boat." Another boat. "You are too weak to go out." He had to stop.Maester Aemon caught a cold during the voyage, and by the time he reached Braavos he was too weak to be carried ashore.They still had a sack full of silver, so Dareon asked for the biggest bed in the inn—it could sleep eight, so the innkeeper insisted on eight. "We'll go to the docks tomorrow," Sam promised, "and then you can ask around for the next boat to Oldtown." Even in autumn, Braavos was a busy port.Finding a ship to take them to their destination would not be difficult once Aemon was healthy enough to continue traveling.The issue of tolls is more difficult.Ships from the Seven Kingdoms are the most promising.Maybe get an Oldtown merchant ship whose owner's relatives have been night watchmen.Surely someone still has respect for the guards on the Great Wall...

"Oldtown," Maester Aemon gasped. "Yes, I dreamed of Oldtown, Sam. I was young again, with my brother Egg, and the big knight he served. We drank in the old inn, strong cider." He spoke again. Trying to sit up proved too difficult for him.After a while, he lay back. "The ship," he added, "we'll find out over there. About dragons. I need to know." No, thought Sam, what you need is food and warmth, a filling stomach, and a crackling fire in the hearth. "Are you hungry, maester? We have some bread and some cheese left." "Not now, Sam. Wait till I feel better."

"How will you be better if you don't eat?" No one eats much at sea, especially after Skagos Island, and the autumn storms are always accompanied by autumn storms on the way across the Narrow Sea.Sometimes from the south, with rolling thunder and lightning, it rains black and heavy for days at a time; sometimes from the north, it is cold and harsh, and the wind seems to be able to pierce people.Once, when Sam woke up, he found that the whole ship was frozen with a layer of ice shell, shining like white pearls.The captain lowered the mast, tied it to the deck, and paddled the oars alone to complete the crossing.By the time they saw the titan, there was nothing left to eat.

Once safely ashore, however, Sam found himself starving.Dareon and Gilly, too, even the baby's sucking became more eager.But Aemon... "The bread is not fresh, I can ask the kitchen for some broth to soak in." Sam told the old man.The proprietor is a miser, cold-eyed and suspicious of the black-clad strangers under his roof, but his cook has a better heart. "No. Maybe a sip of wine?" They have no alcohol.Dareon had promised to buy some with his singing money. "We'll have wine," Sam had to say, "but water now, though not good water." The good water comes from the cathedrals, the great brick aqueducts held up by bridge bows that the Braavosi call theirs. For the sweet water canal.The rich brought their own water into their homes, while the poor fetched water from public fountains in buckets.Sam sent Gilly to fetch water, forgetting that the wildling girl had lived all her life within sight of Craster's Keep, never even seeing a town, and that Braavos was a stone labyrinth of islands and canals , no grass, no trees, and strangers everywhere, speaking a language she didn't understand.Terrified, she lost her map and soon lost her way too.When Sam found her, she was weeping under a stone statue of some long-dead Aquaman. "It's water from the ditch," he told Maester Aemon, "but the cook boiled it. There's sleeping wine, too, if you need it."

"I've had enough sleep and dreaming for the time being. Water from the canal will do. Help me, please." Sam gently lifted the old man to his feet and brought the cup to his chapped lips.Even so, nearly half of the water dripped onto the maester's chest. "Enough," Aemon coughed again after a few sips, "you're going to choke me to death." He trembled in Sam's arms. "Why is the room so cold?" "No more wood." Dareon paid the innkeeper twice as much for a room with a fireplace, but no one realized that wood would be so expensive here.There were no trees in Braavos except in the gardens of the powerful, and no one here was willing to cut down the pines that covered the outer islands of the Great Lagoon, which were windbreaks against storms.Firewood is brought in by barge from upriver across the lagoon.Horse manure was even more precious here, for the Braavosi used boats instead of horses.Originally, if they set off for Old Town as planned, these would not be a problem, but it is really impossible.Maester Aemon was so weak that another voyage would kill him. Aemon's hands groped across the blanket, looking for Sam's arm. "We've got to go to the dock, Sam." "As soon as you feel better." The old man's current state was difficult to deal with the splashing waves and damp winds of the sea, and Braavos was near water everywhere.To the north was the Purple Harbor, where Braavosi merchant ships moored under the vaults and towers of Neptune's Hall; class, and even the far magical East.The rest are dotted with small piers, ferry docks and old gray docks where shrimpers, crabbers and fishing boats anchor after working the mudflats and estuaries. "Now you need to rest." "Then you go for me," Aemon urged, "bring me someone who has seen a dragon." "Me? A dragon?" Sam was taken aback. "Master, that's just a story, a sailor's story." It was Darion's fault too.The singer brought back strange stories from taverns and brothels, but unfortunately he was too drunk when he heard the dragon to remember the details. "Maybe Dareon made up the whole thing, singers are like that, good at making up stories." "They are good at making up stories," Maester Aemon agreed, "but even the most imaginative songs have a basis in fact. Find that basis for me, Sam." "I don't know whom to ask, or how to ask. I only know a little High Valyrian, and if they speak Braavos to me, I don't understand half of it. You know many more languages ​​than I do." More, when you feel better, you can..." "When will I feel better, Sam? Tell me..." "It will get better soon, as long as you eat well, sleep well, and when you get to Oldtown..." "I can't make it to Oldtown, I know that." The old man took Sam's arm tighter. "I will go to see my brothers soon. Some of them are bound to me by oath, some by blood, but they are all my brothers. And my father... He never thought of inheriting the throne, but I still have to sit on it. He once said that it was his punishment for the hammer that killed his brother. I pray that after his death he can find a peace that he has never experienced in his life. The monks sang the tranquil rest, and sang the release of guards , voyage to Elysium, where laughter, gathering, and mutual love last forever... But what if there is no joy and sweetness behind the wall of death, but only coldness, darkness, and pain?" He's scared, Sam realized. "You won't die. You're just sick. Everything will pass." "I can't get through this time, Sam. I dream...in the dark of night, I think about questions I dare not ask during the day. For me, one question has haunted me for years: Why did the gods Take away my eyes and strength, let me be forgotten in the world of ice and snow, but still want me to stay in the world for so long? What use is an old man who is dying like me to them?" Master Aemon was mottled and skinny. Zhi's fingers trembled. "Because I remember, Sam, and I still remember." He has become incoherent. "Remember what?" "Dragon," Aemon whispered, "the sorrow and glory of our house." "The last dragon died before you were born," said Sam. "How can you remember them?" "I dreamed of them, Sam, and I saw a blood-weeping red comet in the sky, and then the red. I saw their shadows in the snow, heard the flapping of their leather wings, felt their hot Breathe. My brothers dreamed of dragons too, and those dreams killed each of them. Sam, we tremble at the ancient prophecies that dimly pass, at the wonders and fears that remain, and the people of the world can no longer understand... or..." "Or what?" Sam said. "...nothing." Aemon chuckled, "or maybe I'm a dying old fool with a burnt out brain." He closed his cloudy blind eyes wearily, then forced them open again. "I shouldn't have left the Great Wall. Lord Snow may not understand, but I should have thought. The fire demands, the ice and snow preserve, and the Great Wall... well, it's too late now, and the Stranger is waiting outside the door, unwilling to leave. Business Sir, you have served me well, do me one last thing. Go where there is a ship, Sam, and learn all you can about dragons." Sam jerked his arm out of his grasp. "Okay. If that's your wish. Only..." He didn't know what else to say.I can't say no to him.He could find Dareon along the berths and docks of the Old Clothesmen's Wharf.Find Darion first, then go to the boat together, and finally come back with food, wine and firewood, light a fire, and have a good meal.He stood up. "Well, if I'm going, I should go. Gilly stay. Gilly, remember to lock the door." The Stranger waited outside. Gilly nodded holding the baby, her eyes filled with tears.She was going to cry again, Sam realized, it was more than she could bear.The swordbelt hung from a peg on the wall, next to the old broken horn that Jon had given him.He took off his sword belt and fastened it to his waist, then draped the black wool cloak over his round shoulders, stooped through the doorway, and clattered down the wooden stairs, which groaned under his weight.There are two main entrances to the inn, one facing the street and the other facing the canal. The owner is probably in the lobby at this time. He will not give a good face to unwelcome guests who have been on credit for too long, so Sam chose the door facing the street. go out. The air was cold tonight, and Sam was thankful that the fog wasn't too thick.Sometimes, the dense water vapor covers the ground, and you can't even see your feet, it seems that you are only one step away from stepping into the ditch. Sam had read the history of Braavos since he was a child, and dreamed of coming here one day to see the majestic and terrifying titans standing in the sea, to visit palaces and temples along the canals in a light snake boat, and to watch the water dance of assassins , the blade gleamed in the starlight.Now here he was, all he wanted was to get away, all he wanted to get to Oldtown safely. The cloak was blown by the wind, he pulled the hood up, and walked along the cobblestone road to the old clothes dealer's wharf.Since the sword belt was always in danger of slipping down to his ankles, he had to be careful to lift it up as he walked.He kept walking the small, dark alleys so as not to meet people, and every cat he encountered made his heart pound... Braavos was full of stray cats.I have to find Dareon, he thought. Dareon is a member of the Night's Watch, my sworn brother, and I will count with him.Maester Aemon's strength was gone, and Gilly was helpless even when she wasn't struck by grief, but Dareon was different... no, I don't want to think badly about people.Maybe he got hurt and didn't come back.Maybe he was dead, lying in a pool of blood in an alley, or floating face down in a canal.At night, the Assassins paraded through the streets in splendid attire and wielding slender swords, eager to prove themselves.Some people would fight for any reason, others for no reason at all, and Dareon had always had a bad temper and could not control his tongue, especially when he was drinking.Just because he sings about fighting doesn't mean he's good at fighting. While the best taverns, taverns, and whorehouses were around the Purple Harbor and Moonpool, Dareon preferred the Clothes Wharf because there were more customers who spoke the Common Tongue.Sam followed the Green Eel Inn, the Black Boatmen, and the Moroccan houses, where Darion had performed.nothing.There were several snake boats waiting for guests outside the House of Mists, and Sam tried to ask the boatmen if they had seen the Singer in Black, but no one could understand his High Valyrian.Maybe they pretended not to understand.Sam peered into a dingy tavern that could hold no more than ten people under the second arch of Napo Bridge.Dareon wasn't there.He went to the Outcast Hotel, the House of Seven Lamps, and a brothel called the Cattery, still clueless, and got weird stares. As he left the cattery, he almost bumped into two young men, one with dark hair and the other with blonde hair, under the red lanterns.The dark-haired one said something in Braavosian. "I'm sorry," Sam had to apologize, "I don't understand." In the Seven Kingdoms, nobles wore colorful velvets, brocades, and satins, while peasants and common people wore plain wool or dun slub.Braavos is the opposite.Assassins dressed up like peacocks ostentatiously, playing with the swords in their hands, while powerful people either choose dark gray, dark purple or dark blue that is close to black, or just wear black clothes, as black as a moonless night. "My friend Tello says you're so fat it disgusts him," said the blond assassin, whose jacket was green velvet on one side and silver thread on the other. He has a headache." He spoke the Common Tongue, and another dark-haired assassin in a burgundy brocade robe and yellow cloak, who was obviously Tello, said something in Braavosi, which made his blond friend laugh, " My friend Taylor said that your clothes surpassed your status. Are you a gentleman in black?" Sam wanted to run, but that would trip him over his sword belt.Don't touch the sword, he reminded himself, even a finger on the sword is enough for two assassins to consider it a challenge.He looked for words that would satisfy them. "I'm not—" was all he could say. "He's not a lord," interjected a child, "he's the Night's Watch, fool, he's from Westeros." A girl pushes a wagonload full of seaweed into the light; she's scrawny, scrawny, and wears big boots , the hair is dirty and messy. "There's another one in the Happy Wharf, singing to 'The Sailor's Wife,'" she told the two assassins, and then to Sam, "and if they ask who is the most beautiful woman in the world, say 'Nightingale,' or they will Challenge to you. Would you like some clams? I'm out of oysters." "I have no money," said Sam. "He has no money," the blond assassin taunted.His dark-haired friend grinned and said something more in Braavos. "My friend Tello is cold, dear fat friend, give him your cloak." "Don't take off your cloak," said the girl pushing the cart, "or they'll ask for your boots next, and you'll be naked before long." "The kitten who is too noisy will be drowned in the water." The blond assassin warned. "Those with claws won't." A dagger as thin as hers suddenly appeared in the girl's left hand.Tello said something to the blond assassin, and the two walked away, sniggering at each other. "Thank you," Sam said to the girl after they left. Her dagger disappeared. "If you go out at night with a sword, it means that others can challenge you. Do you want to fight them?" "No." Sam screamed, the voice pulling himself.Startled. "Are you really a night watchman? I've never seen a brother in black like you." The girl gestured towards the cart. "If you want to eat, just eat the last bit of clams. It's dark now, and no one will buy them. You want to take a boat to the Great Wall?" "To Oldtown." Sam picked up a grilled clam and swallowed it in one gulp. "We're transshipping here." The clams were delicious.He quickly ate another one. "Assassins never pay attention to people without swords, even stupid camels like Tello and Urbero." "Who are you?" "Nobody." She smelled fishy. "I used to have a name and a surname. Not anymore. You can call me Cat if you want. What about you?" "Samwell of House Tarly. Do you speak the Common Tongue?" "My father was oarswain on the Nymeria. An assassin killed him because he said my mother was more beautiful than 'Nightingale'—not those two camels you met, but the real assassin. One day I'll cut his throat and avenge my father. The captain said the Nymeria didn't need a little girl, so he drove me off. Brusco adopted me and gave me a cart." She looked up at him . "Which ship are you going to sail on?" "We're booked on the Miss Usanora." The girl squinted at him suspiciously. "She left. Don't you know? She left days ago." Of course I do, Sam wanted to say.I remember standing on the pier with Darion, watching the ship sail towards the Titan and the open sea, the oars rising and falling. "Well," said the singer, "it's over." If Sam had been braver, he would have thrown him overboard at once.Dareon's sweet talk could make a girl undress, but in the captain's cabin it was all Sam alone, trying to persuade the Braavos. "I've been waiting for the old man for three days," said the captain. "The hold is full, and my men have had their wives fucked enough. With you or not, my Miss Usanora has to go on the tide tonight." "Please," Sam begged, "I just ask for a few more days, so Maester Aemon can regain his strength." "He has no strength." The captain had visited Maester Aemon himself at the inn the night before. "He's old and frail, and I don't want him to die aboard my Miss Usanora. You either stay with him or you go, it's none of my business, I'm going to sea anyway." Worse, he refused Refunding their prepaid travel expenses, the silver coins would have brought them safely to Oldtown. "You booked my best cabin, and it's waiting there empty. If you don't go, it's not my responsibility, why should I bear the loss?" If he had gone to sea, he might have reached Duskendale, Sam thought ruefully, and with a good wind, he might even have reached Pentos. But none of this has anything to do with the girl pushing the cart. "You said you saw a singer..." "He's at Pleasure's Wharf, about to marry 'The Sailor's Wife.'" "marry?" "She only sleeps with people who are married to her." "Where's Happy Pier?" "Across from the actor's boat. Let me show you the way." "I know the way." Sam had seen the mummer's boat.Dareon can't marry!He swore! "I have to go." He ran on the slippery cobblestones, it was a long way, and before long he was panting, his black cloak fluttering and rattling behind him.He had to hold onto the sword belt with one hand as he ran.A few passers-by cast curious glances, and a cat stood up and yelled "hiss" at him.By the time he reached the mummer's boat, he was already unsteady on his feet.The Happy Pier is across the street. He rushed in, and when he was panting heavily with a red face, a one-eyed woman hugged his neck. "No," Sam told her, "that's not why I came." The woman replied in Braavos. "I don't speak Braavos," Sam said desperately in High Valyrian.Candles were burning, the stove was crackling, someone was playing a violin, and he saw two girls dancing hand in hand around a red monk.The one-eyed woman pressed her tits to his chest. "Come on! I'm not here for this!" "Sam!" came Dareon's familiar voice. "Ina, let him go, that's 'killer' Sam. My sworn brother!" The one-eyed woman backed away from him, but kept one hand on his arm.One dancer called out, "He can come and kill me if he wants to." Another said, "Do you think he'll let me touch his sword?" On the wall behind them was a purple three-masted ship with its crew All women, wearing nothing but high boots.A Tyroshi sailor was asleep in a corner, snoring through a large scarlet beard, and an older woman with huge breasts was playing tileches with a heavyset Summer Islander Wearing red and black plumage.Dareon sat in the middle of the room, arching his nose against the neck of the woman on his knees. She was wearing his black cloak. "Killer," the singer yelled drunkenly, "come and meet my wife." His hair was as pale as honey, and his smile was intoxicating, "I sang love songs for her. When I sang, women melted like butter. Oh, I How can I refuse her face?" He kissed her nose. "Madam, give the killer a kiss. He is my brother." The girl stood up, and Sam saw that she was naked under the cloak. "By the way, brothers and wives are not allowed, don't flirt with my wife, killer." Darion laughed, "If you want her sisters, please choose whatever you want, I still have enough money." With that money we can buy us food, Sam thought, and firewood to keep Maester Aemon warm. "What are you doing? You can't marry. You swore like I did. They'll have your head." "We're only married for one night, Killer, and I won't take your head even in Westeros. Haven't you been digging for treasure in Mole Town?" "No." Sam blushed. "I will never..." "What about your wild chick? You must have fucked her two or three times. Huddled together under your cloak at night in the forest. Don't tell me you never fucked her." He waved at the chair. "Sit down, killer. Grab a drink and find a whore. You're welcome." Sam doesn't want to drink. "You promised me to go back before dusk and bring back wine and food." "Is this how you kill aliens? Drown with saliva?" Dareon laughed again, "She is my wife, but you are not. If you don't want to drink my wedding wine, go away." "Come with me," said Sam, "Maester Aemon is awake, and he wants to hear about the dragons. He speaks of the blood-weeping comet and the White Walkers, and dreams, and... if we could find out more about the The matter of the dragon may make him feel at ease. Please help me." "Tomorrow...tomorrow, not on my wedding night." Dareon grabbed the bride's hand, got up and walked towards the stairs. Sam blocks the way. "You promised, Dareon, you swore. You are my brother." "In Westeros. Do you think this is Westeros?" "Master Aemon—" "—nearly dying. You wasted all our silver on that doctor in the stripes, and yet he said so." Dareon's tone hardened. "Get a girl or fuck off, Sam, don't spoil my nuptials." "I'll go," said Sam, "but you must come with me." "No. I have nothing to do with you. I have nothing to do with black clothes." Dareon tore his cloak from the naked bride and threw it in Sam's face. "Here. Cover the old man with this rag, it might keep him warm. I don't need it. Soon I'll be in velvet, next year I'll be in furs, and eat—" Sam beat him up. He didn't think much about it, he just made a fist and punched the singer's mouth.Dareon swore and his naked bride screamed, and Sam threw himself on the singer, pushing him down on a low table behind him.They were about the same height, but Sam weighed twice as much, and this time he was so angry that he forgot his fear.He smacked the singer first on the cheek and stomach, then on the shoulders.Dareon grabbed Sam's wrist, and Sam cracked the singer's lip with his head.After the singer let go, Sam punched him on the nose.A man laughs and a woman curses.Suddenly, the fight slowed down, and they were like two black flies struggling in the amber.Someone dragged Sam away from the singer's chest.He also hit the man, and then hit him on the head with a hard object. The next thing he found himself was out the door, flying head-on through the fog.As soon as he saw the black water below him, the canal rushed towards him. Sam sank like a rock, like a rock, or like a mountain.The sea water seeps into the eyes and rushes into the nostrils, dark and cold, with a salty taste.He tried to call for help, but swallowed more water.He tried to open his mouth, kicking and rolling, a series of air bubbles gushed out of his nose.Swim, he told himself, swim.His open eyes were stung by the salt water, unable to see anything, he emerged from the water briefly, took a breath of air, and slapped furiously with one hand while the other pawed at the canal wall.However, the rock was slippery and hard to grasp.He sank again. Sam felt the water soak through his clothes, his skin was cold, and the sword belts slid down his legs and wrapped around his ankles.Filled with unspeakable terror that I was drowning, he paddled frantically forward in a last effort, only to hit his face on the bottom of the canal.I was upside down, he realized, and I was going to drown.His waving hand touched something, perhaps an eel, slipping slickly between his fingers.I cannot do this. Without me, Maester Aemon will be dead, and Gilly will have no one to rely on.I must swim, I must... There was a loud bang, and something wrapped around him, passed through his armpit, and clamped around his chest.He thought first of the eels, and the eels had caught me and were trying to drag me down.He opened his mouth to cry, swallowing more water.His last thought was, I'm going to drown, oh gods, I'm going to drown. He lay on his back with his eyes open, and a burly, dark-skinned Summer Islander was hitting him in the stomach with a fist the size of a hammer.Stop, stop, you hurt me, Sam wanted to shout, but he couldn't speak, he could only gasp and throw up.Drenched, he lay shivering in a pool of water among the pebbles.The Summer Islander continued to beat his stomach, and more water spurted from his nose. "Stop," panted Sam, "I'm not drowned. I'm not drowned." "Ah, you didn't." The man who rescued him leaned over to look at him. This man was tall and his dark skin was dripping wet. "You owe Chong many feathers. The water ruined Chong's fine cloak." It was true, Sam saw the feathered cloak pressed against the Negro's huge shoulders, all soaked and stained. "I never thought..." "...Learning to swim? Yeah, Chong can see that. You're splashing too much water, the fat man should be able to float." He held Sam's tight top in one huge black hand and helped him to his feet. "Chong is the chief mate of the Laurel Wind. He can speak a little bit of many things. When I saw you beating the singer inside, Chong laughed. Chong also heard what you said." He grinned and smiled, showing his white teeth . "Chong knows those dragons."