A Dance With Dragons

duty to my father and my people. There was a secret marriage pact.”
    “So I heard. And when the silver queen saw your scrap of parchment she fell into your arms, yes?”
    “No,” said Pretty Meris. “No? Oh, I recall. Your bride flew off on a dragon. Well, when she returns, do be sure to invite us to your nuptials. The men of the company would love to drink to your happiness, and I do love a Westerosi wedding. The bedding part especially, only … oh, wait …” He turned to Denzo D’han. “Denzo, I thought you told me that the dragon queen had married some Ghiscari.”
    “A Meereenese nobleman. Rich.”
    The Tattered Prince turned back to Quentyn. “Could that be true? Surely not. What of your marriage pact?”
    “She laughed at him,” said Pretty Meris.
    Daenerys never laughed. The rest of Meereen might see him as an amusing curiosity, like the exiled Summer Islander King Robert used to keep at King’s Landing, but the queen had always spoken to him gently. “We came too late,” said Quentyn.
    “A pity you did not desert me sooner.” The Tattered Prince sipped at his wine. “So … no wedding for Prince Frog. Is that why you’ve come hopping back to me? Have my three brave Dornish lads decided to honor their contracts?”
    “No.”
    “How vexing.”
    “Yurkhaz zo Yunzak is dead.”
    “Ancient tidings. I saw him die. The poor man saw a dragon and stumbled as he tried to flee. Then a thousand of his closest friends stepped on him. No doubt the Yellow City is awash in tears. Did you ask me here to toast his memory?”
    “No. Have the Yunkishmen chosen a new commander?”
    “The council of masters has been unable to agree. Yezzan zo Qaggaz had the most support, but now he’s died as well. The Wise Masters are rotating the supreme command amongst themselves. Today our leader is the one your friends in the ranks dubbed the Drunken Conqueror. On the morrow, it will be Lord Wobblecheeks.”
    “The Rabbit,” said Meris. “Wobblecheeks was yesterday.”
    “I stand corrected, my sweetling. Our Yunkish friends were kind enough to provide us with a chart. I must strive to be more assiduous about consulting it.”
    “Yurkhaz zo Yunzak was the man who hired you.”
    “He signed our contract on behalf of his city. Just so.”
    “Meereen and Yunkai have made peace. The siege is to be lifted, the armies disbanded. There will be no battle, no slaughter, no city to sack and plunder.”
    “Life is full of disappointments.”
    “How long do you think the Yunkishmen will want to continue paying wages to four free companies?”
    The Tattered Prince took a sip of wine and said, “A vexing question. But this is the way of life for we men of the free companies. One war ends, another begins. Fortunately there is always someone fighting someone somewhere. Perhaps here. Even as we sit here drinking Bloodbeard is urging our Yunkish friends to present King Hizdahr with another head. Freedmen and slavers eye each other’s necks and sharpen their knives, the Sons of the Harpy plot in their pyramids, the pale mare rides down slave and lord alike, our friends from the Yellow City gaze out to sea, and somewhere in the grasslands a dragon nibbles the tender flesh of Daenerys Targaryen. Who rules Meereen tonight? Who will rule it on the morrow?” The Pentoshi gave a shrug. “One thing I am certain of. Someone will have need of our swords.”
    “I have need of those swords. Dorne will hire you.”
    The Tattered Prince glanced at Pretty Meris. “He does not lack for gall, this Frog. Must I remind him? My dear prince, the last contract we signed you used to wipe your pretty pink bottom.”
    “I will double whatever the Yunkishmen are paying you.”
    “And pay in gold upon the signing of our contract, yes?”
    “I will pay you part when we reach Volantis, the rest when I am back in Sunspear. We brought gold with us when we set sail, but it would have been hard to conceal once we joined the company, so we gave it over to the banks. I can show you papers.”
    “Ah. Papers. But we will be paid double. ”
    “Twice as many papers,” said Pretty Meris. “The rest you’ll have in Dorne,” Quentyn insisted. “My father is a man of honor. If I put my seal to an agreement, he will fulfill its terms. You have my word on that.”
    The Tattered Prince finished his wine, turned the cup over, and set it down between them. “So. Let me see if I understand. A proven liar and oathbreaker wishes to contract with us and