A Feast for Dragons

I pity Her Grace.”
    Florent’s face grew flushed with anger. “So it
is
true. You mean to keep her for yourself, I see it now. The bastard wants his
father’s seat.”
    The bastard refused his father’s seat. If the bastard
had wanted Val, all he had to do was ask for her
. “You must excuse me,
ser,” he said. “I need a breath of fresh air.”
It stinks in here
.
His head turned. “That was a horn.”
    Others had heard it too. The music and the laughter died at
once. Dancers froze in place, listening. Even Ghost pricked up his ears. “Did
you hear that?” Queen Selyse asked her knights.
    “A warhorn, Your Grace,” said Ser Narbert.
    The queen’s hand went fluttering to her throat. “Are we
under attack?”
    “No, Your Grace,” said Ulmer of the Kingswood. “It’s the
watchers on the Wall, is all.”
    One blast
, thought Jon Snow.
Rangers
returning
.
    Then it came again. The sound seemed to fill the cellar.
    “Two blasts,” said Mully.
    Black brothers, northmen, free folk, Thenns, queen’s men,
all of them fell quiet, listening. Five heartbeats passed. Ten. Twenty. Then
Owen the Oaf tittered, and Jon Snow could breathe again. “Two blasts,” he announced.
“Wildlings.”
Val
.
    Tormund Giantsbane had come at last.
    ----

    DAENERYS
    The hall rang to Yunkish laughter, Yunkish songs, Yunkish
prayers. Dancers danced; musicians played queer tunes with bells and squeaks and
bladders; singers sang ancient love songs in the incomprehensible tongue of Old
Ghis. Wine flowed—not the thin pale stuff of Slaver’s Bay but rich sweet
vintages from the Arbor and dreamwine from Qarth, flavored with strange spices.
The Yunkai’i had come at King Hizdahr’s invitation, to sign the peace and
witness the rebirth of Meereen’s far-famed fighting pits. Her noble husband had
opened the Great Pyramid to fete them.
    I hate this
, thought Daenerys Targaryen.
How
did this happen, that I am drinking and smiling with men I’d sooner flay?
    A dozen different sorts of meat and fish were served: camel,
crocodile, singing squid, lacquered ducks and spiny grubs, with goat and ham
and horse for those whose tastes were less exotic. Plus dog. No Ghiscari feast
was complete without a course of dog. Hizdahr’s cooks prepared dog four
different ways. “Ghiscari will eat anything that swims or flies or crawls, but
for man and dragon,” Daario had warned her, “and I’d wager they’d eat dragon
too if given half a chance.” Meat alone does not make a meal, though, so there
were fruits and grains and vegetables as well. The air was redolent with the
scents of saffron, cinnamon, cloves, pepper, and other costly spices.
    Dany scarce touched a bite.
This is peace
,
she told herself.
This is what I wanted, what I worked for, this is why
I married Hizdahr. So why does it taste so much like defeat?
    “It is only for a little while more, my love,” Hizdahr had
assured her. “The Yunkai’i will soon be gone, and their allies and hirelings
with them. We shall have all we desired. Peace, food, trade. Our port is open
once again, and ships are being permitted to come and go.”
    “They are
permitting
that, yes,” she had
replied, “but their warships remain. They can close their fingers around our
throat again whenever they wish.
They have opened a slave market within
sight of my walls!”
    “
Outside
our walls, sweet queen. That was a
condition of the peace, that Yunkai would be free to trade in slaves as before,
unmolested.”
    “In their own city. Not where I have to see it.” The Wise
Masters had established their slave pens and auction block just south of the
Skahazadhan, where the wide brown river flowed into Slaver’s Bay. “They are
mocking me to my face, making a show of how powerless I am to stop them.”
    “Posing and posturing,” said her noble husband. “A show, as
you have said. Let them have their mummery. When they are gone, we will make a
fruit market of what they leave behind.”
    “When they are gone,” Dany repeated. “And when will they be
gone? Riders have been seen beyond the Skahazadhan. Dothraki scouts, Rakharo
says, with a
khalasar
behind them. They will have captives.
Men, women, and children, gifts for the slavers.” Dothraki did not buy or sell,
but they gave gifts and received them. “That is why the Yunkai’i have thrown up
this market. They will leave here with thousands of new slaves.”
    Hizdahr zo Loraq shrugged. “But they will leave. That is the
important part, my love.