A Feast for Dragons

likes those. Poor Daario, her brave captain … she will
never forget him, no … but better for all of us if he is dead, yes?
Better for Daenerys too.”
    Better for Daenerys, and for Westeros
.
Daenerys Targaryen loved her captain, but that was the girl in her, not the
queen.
Prince Rhaegar loved his Lady Lyanna, and thousands died for it.
Daemon Blackfyre loved the first Daenerys, and rose in rebellion when denied
her. Bittersteel and Bloodraven both loved Shiera Seastar, and the Seven
Kingdoms bled. The Prince of Dragonflies loved Jenny of Oldstones so much he
cast aside a crown, and Westeros paid the bride price in corpses
. All
three of the sons of the fifth Aegon had wed for love, in defiance of their
father’s wishes. And because that unlikely monarch had himself followed his
heart when he chose his queen, he allowed his sons to have their way, making
bitter enemies where he might have had fast friends. Treason and turmoil
followed, as night follows day, ending at Summerhall in sorcery, fire, and
grief.
    Her love for Daario is poison. A slower poison than
the locusts, but in the end as deadly
. “There is still Jhogo,” Ser
Barristan said. “Him, and Hero. Both precious to Her Grace.”
    “We have hostages as well,” Skahaz Shavepate reminded him.
“If the slavers kill one of ours, we kill one of theirs.”
    For a moment Ser Barristan did not know whom he meant. Then
it came to him. “The queen’s cupbearers?”
    “Hostages,”
insisted Skahaz mo Kandaq.
“Grazdar and Qezza are the blood of the Green Grace. Mezzara is of Merreq,
Kezmya is Pahl, Azzak Ghazeen. Bhakaz is Loraq, Hizdahr’s own kin. All are sons
and daughters of the pyramids. Zhak, Quazzar, Uhlez, Hazkar, Dhazak, Yherizan,
all children of Great Masters.”
    “Innocent girls and sweet-faced boys.” Ser Barristan had
come to know them all during the time they served the queen, Grazhar with his
dreams of glory, shy Mezzara, lazy Miklaz, vain, pretty Kezmya, Qezza with her
big soft eyes and angel’s voice, Dhazzar the dancer, and the rest. “Children.”
    “Children of the Harpy. Only blood can pay for blood.”
    “So said the Yunkishman who brought us Groleo’s head.”
    “He was not wrong.”
    “I will not permit it.”
    “What use are hostages if they may not be touched?”
    “Mayhaps we might offer three of the children for Daario,
Hero, and Jhogo,” Ser Barristan allowed. “Her Grace—”
    “—is not here. It is for you and me to do what must be done.
You know that I am right.”
    “Prince Rhaegar had two children,” Ser Barristan told him.
“Rhaenys was a little girl, Aegon a babe in arms. When Tywin Lannister took
King’s Landing, his men killed both of them. He served the bloody bodies up in
crimson cloaks, a gift for the new king.”
And what did Robert say when
he saw them? Did he smile?
Barristan Selmy had been badly wounded on
the Trident, so he had been spared the sight of Lord Tywin’s gift, but oft he
wondered.
If I had seen him smile over the red ruins of Rhaegar’s
children, no army on this earth could have stopped me from killing him
.
“I will not suffer the murder of children. Accept that, or I’ll have no part of
this.”
    Skahaz chuckled. “You are a stubborn old man. Your
sweet-faced boys will only grow up to be Sons of the Harpy. Kill them now or
kill them then.”
    “You kill men for the wrongs they have done, not the wrongs
that they may do someday.”
    The Shavepate took an axe down off the wall, inspected it,
and grunted. “So be it. No harm to Hizdahr or our hostages. Will that content
you, Ser Grandfather?”
    Nothing about this will content me
. “It will
serve. The hour of the wolf. Remember.”
    “I am not like to forget, ser.” Though the bat’s brass mouth
did not move, Ser Barristan could sense the grin beneath the mask. “Long has
Kandaq waited for this night.”
    That is what I fear
. If King Hizdahr was
innocent, what they did this day would be treason. But how could he be
innocent? Selmy had heard him urging Daenerys to taste the poisoned locusts,
shouting at his men to slay the dragon.
If we do not act, Hizdahr will
kill the dragons and open the gates to the queen’s enemies. We have no choice
in this
. Yet no matter how he turned and twisted this, the old knight
could find no honor in it.
    The rest of that long day raced past as swiftly as a snail.
    Elsewhere, he knew, King Hizdahr was consulting with Reznak
mo Reznak, Marghaz zo Loraq, Galazza Galare, and his