A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle

cannot even speak the Common Tongue. The lords of Westeros do
not know you, and have every reason to fear and mistrust you. You must win them
over before you sail. A few at least.”
    â€œAnd how am I to do that, if I go east as you counsel?”
    He ate an olive and spit out the pit into his palm. “I do not know, Your
Grace,” he admitted, “but I do know that the longer you remain in one place,
the easier it will be for your enemies to find you. The name
Targaryen
still frightens them, so much so that they sent a man to
murder you when they heard you were with child. What will they do when they
learn of your dragons?”
    Drogon was curled up beneath her arm, as hot as a stone that has soaked all day
in the blazing sun. Rhaegal and Viserion were fighting over a scrap of meat,
buffeting each other with their wings as smoke hissed from their nostrils.
My furious children,
she thought.
They must not come to
harm.
“The comet led me to Qarth for a reason. I had hoped to find my
army here, but it seems that will not be. What else remains, I ask myself?”
I am afraid,
she realized,
but I must be brave.
“Come the
morrow, you must go to Pyat Pree.”

TYRION
    T he girl never wept. Young as she was, Myrcella Baratheon was a princess
born.
And a Lannister, despite her name,
Tyrion reminded himself,
as much Jaime’s blood as Cersei’s.
    To be sure, her smile was a shade tremulous when her brothers took their leave
of her on the deck of the
Seaswift,
but the girl knew the proper
words to say, and she said them with courage and dignity. When the time came to
part, it was Prince Tommen who cried, and Myrcella who gave him comfort.
    Tyrion looked down upon the farewells from the high deck of
King
Robert’s Hammer,
a great war galley of four hundred oars.
Rob’s
Hammer,
as her oarsmen called her, would form the main strength of
Myrcella’s escort.
Lionstar, Bold Wind,
and
Lady Lyanna
would sail with her as well.
    It made Tyrion more than a little uneasy to detach so great a part of their
already inadequate fleet, depleted as it was by the loss of all those ships
that had sailed with Lord Stannis to Dragonstone and never returned, but Cersei
would hear of nothing less. Perhaps she was wise. If the girl was captured
before she reached Sunspear, the Dornish alliance would fall to pieces. So far
Doran Martell had done no more than call his banners. Once Myrcella was safe in
Braavos, he had pledged to move his strength to the high passes, where the
threat might make some of the

Marcher lords rethink their loyalties and give Stannis pause about marching
north. It was purely a feint, however. The Martells would not commit to actual
battle unless Dorne itself was attacked, and Stannis was not so great a fool.
Though some of his bannermen may be,
Tyrion reflected.
I should
think on that.
    He cleared his throat. “You know your orders, Captain.”
    â€œI do, my lord. We are to follow the coast, staying always in sight of land,
until we reach Crackclaw Point. From there we are to strike out across the
narrow sea for Braavos. On no account are we to sail within sight of
Dragonstone.”
    â€œAnd if our foes should chance upon you nonetheless?”
    â€œIf a single ship, we are to run them off or destroy them. If there are more,
the
Bold Wind
will cleave to the
Seaswift
to protect her
while the rest of the fleet does battle.”
    Tyrion nodded. If the worst happened, the little
Seaswift
ought to be
able to outrun pursuit. A small ship with big sails, she was faster than any
warship afloat, or so her captain had claimed. Once Myrcella reached Braavos,
she ought to be safe. He was sending Ser Arys Oakheart as her sworn shield, and
had engaged the Braavosi to bring her the rest of the way to Sunspear. Even
Lord Stannis would hesitate to wake the anger of the greatest and most powerful
of the Free Cities. Traveling from King’s Landing to Dorne by way of Braavos
was scarcely the most direct of routes, but it
was
the
safest . . . or so he hoped.
    If Lord Stannis knew of this sailing, he could not choose a better time to
send his fleet against us.
Tyrion glanced back to

where the Rush emptied out into Blackwater Bay and was relieved to see no signs
of sails on the wide green horizon. At last report, the Baratheon fleet still
lay off Storm’s End, where Ser Cortnay Penrose continued to defy the besiegers
in dead