It was a dark night, with only a few scattered stars adorning the boundless sky, casting faint starlight.
Splash, splash, splash… The black-sailed boat glided silently, leaving shallow ripples in its wake.
Davos Seaworth loved the sound of water… Whenever he lay on the swaying deck, he found it easy to fall asleep, and the "sighs" of the wind against the rigging sounded sweeter to him than any melody plucked from a singer's strings.
Davos frowned deeply; even his beloved sea could not comfort him tonight.
The Red Priestess's soft voice spoke, "I smell your fear, Onion Knight."
Davos turned his head and looked over; Melisandre's face, hidden by her hood, was pale.
After a pause, Davos said, "That's because someone often says, 'The night is dark and full of terrors.'"
He added, "Besides, tonight I am not a knight; tonight I am once again Davos the smuggler, and you are my onion."
As Davos finished speaking, the Red Priestess laughed, her laughter tonight carrying a hint of frankness.
Melisandre spoke, "Mr. Smuggler, are you afraid of me? Or are you afraid of our current errand?"
Davos denied, "Lady Melisandre, this is your errand; it has nothing to do with me."
Melisandre's tone was soft: "No, you unfurl the sails, and you steer the rudder."
Davos: "..."
The Onion Knight remained silent, shifting his attention to steering the boat.
After a moment of silence, the Red Priestess asked, "Are you a good man, Davos Seaworth?"
"Would a good man do this?"
Davos spoke as if in contemplation: "I am a man. I am good to my wife, but I've also known other women… I try to be a good father, to carve out a place in this world for my children… Yes, I have broken many laws… I can only say I am a complex person… Lady Melisandre, I have good and bad within me."
The Red Priestess looked up at the Onion Knight and said, "Neither black nor white, but a bit of both. You are a grey man… Is that right, Ser Davos?"
Davos shrugged slightly: "Even if it is, what of it? In my opinion, most people in the world are like that."
Beneath the shadow of her hood, Melisandre's eyes glowed like pale red burning candles: "If an onion is half rotten and black, it is a bad onion. If a man is not a good man, then he is an evil man."
The boat suddenly swayed, the canvas flapped, Melisandre calmly steadied herself against the gunwale, while Davos calmly pushed the tiller.
The black-sailed boat headed towards the coast, a bifurcated ripple trailing behind it.
"You just spoke of men and onions…"
Davos asked, "What about women? Aren't they the same? Lady Melisandre, are you a good person or a bad person?"
After hearing Davos's words, Melisandre chuckled, "A good question… My dear Ser, from my perspective, I am also a knight of sorts; I am a champion of light and life."
Light and life? Davos raised an eyebrow, slowly saying, "Tonight, I only smell death."
Melisandre laughed again: "Ah, Ser Davos… You are lost in darkness and chaos…"
Davos shrugged: "I am always full of doubts."
"Servants of foreign gods often hide dark hearts beneath beautiful light, so R'hllor grants his Red Priests the ability to expose disguise."
Melisandre sighed softly, then continued, "Davos, you are a kind and good knight, and even when lost in darkness and chaos, your honesty and integrity remain unchanged."
Davos said calmly, "I am merely a servant to King Stannis."
Melisandre's strange, blood-red eyes surveyed the Onion Knight, saying, "My dear Ser, a scorching fire burns within your body… If you are willing to serve your King, please visit my room one night, and I will bring you pleasure you have never known."
The Priestess's words were full of temptation, but Davos felt a chill spread down his spine.
Davos absolutely did not want to have any dealings with her or her god. He abruptly changed the subject: "Lady Melisandre, the destination you chose is very close to the enemy. What… what are we going to do?"
Melisandre's lips curled upwards. She remained silent until Davos's body became as stiff as ice, then she spoke: "Shadows are servants of light, children of flame. Only the brightest fire can cast the darkest shadow, Ser."
Although Davos was confused, he said nothing more. He silently began to row, moving forward through the undulating black waves.
… … … …
After landing, the Red Priestess observed the direction, then led the way, with Davos following behind her.
Melisandre and Davos walked through the dense forest. Moonlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled patterns on the ground. Their figures flickered in and out of the shadows, like ghosts in the darkness.
… … … …
Melisandre stopped in front of a cave. After standing silently for a moment, her low voice spoke, "This will do."
The Priestess moved towards the cave. Davos glanced at the faint, flickering lights of Renly's camp, and with a solemn expression, he followed her inside.
Inside the cave, Davos felt swallowed by the darkness. He could only hear the Priestess's low chanting.
When the chanting ended, a dazzling light suddenly appeared in the darkness. Davos raised a hand to shield his eyes.
Melisandre threw back her hood and shed her tightly wrapped, dark red cloak.
The Priestess wore nothing. The large red ruby on her neck seemed to burn. Her abdomen was distended, her belly so large it looked ready to burst.
Fear held Davos rooted to the spot. He murmured, "Gods preserve us…"
Melisandre smiled faintly, her voice low and hoarse: "A blessing from the Lord of Light…"
"Uh…" The suggestive sound, however, seemed strangely eerie.
Melisandre's eyes were like burning flames. She gasped, squatted down, and parted her… Ink-black liquid continuously gushed from between her thighs.
Melisandre cried out, it was unclear if she was in pain or ecstasy.
Soon after, Davos saw the crowned head of a small child struggling to emerge from the Priestess's body, followed by two hands, twisting, grasping, intertwining… Finally… a black shadow stood up, taller than Davos.
The shadow moved quickly, almost instantly "flying" away from there, but Davos immediately recognized it.
… … … …
… … … …
In the darkness before dawn, the King's Camp in Renly's encampment was brightly lit by candles, making the silk tent seem to glow, like a majestic, green-glowing magic castle.
Inside the tent, charcoal burned in a dozen small iron basins. Brienne, the blue-clad guard of the Rainbow Guard, was helping Renly Baratheon don his armor… The deep green armor was the color of leaves in a summer forest, a profound green that seemed to absorb the candle flames' glow… Golden light shimmered on the armor's buckles and ornaments, like dancing will-o'-the-wisps in the woods.
Randyll Tarly, Earl of Horn Hill, and Matus Rowan, Earl of Goldenrod, discussed deployment and tactics nearby.
"King Renly…"
Lord Mathos stepped forward, bowing, "At this moment, our army is ready. Why wait for dawn? Blow the horn, let us march."
Brienne was fastening the deep green backplate and breastplate to King Renly's padded surcoat. His eyes flickered slightly, and he said, "Lord Mathos, I desire a glorious victory, not one achieved by an unchivalrous sneak attack. Dawn is the agreed time to begin the battle."
Earl Randyll walked over and said, "King Renly, dawn is the time Stannis chose; he wants to charge us with the rising sun at his back. At that time, our soldiers will be almost half-blind."
King Renly was confident: "Stannis's few troops can only cause a momentary fright at most."
Brienne tightened his green belt and fastened the golden buckle. Renly turned around and said with a smile, "After my elder brother died, no one was allowed to desecrate his corpse. He is my flesh and blood; I will never allow anyone to parade his head on a spear."
Lord Mathos smiled, bowing slightly.
Earl Randyll frowned and asked, "King Renly, what if he surrenders?"
King Renly lifted his chin for Brienne to fasten his gorget: "Surrender? My elder brother would rather eat rats than surrender."
Lord Mathos smiled and said, "Our Duke of Highgarden understands this well."
King Renly laughed heartily. He gathered his hair, and Brienne tied it with a velvet ribbon, placing a small padded cap near his ear to lighten the weight of his helmet.
Then, Brienne draped the cloak over King Renly's broad shoulders, upon which was the crowned stag of House Baratheon, made of black onyx.
King Renly put on his golden antlered helmet, moved his neck, and suddenly said, "Oh, and if Barristan Selmy is in my elder brother's camp, remember to capture him alive."
Lord Mathos hesitated, saying, "King Renly, Barristan has been missing since Joffrey expelled him from the Red Keep."
"I understand that old man. He needs a King to guard, otherwise what is he?"
King Renly slipped his lobster-shaped, gold and green gauntlet onto his left hand, while Brienne knelt to fasten his belt, which was heavy with his longsword and dagger.
King Renly shifted his body and continued, "Although Robb Stark has declared himself King, he has no right to inherit the Iron Throne. So, since he hasn't sided with me, only Stannis remains."
"As you wish, he will not be harmed, My King." Earl Randyll and Lord Mathos bowed together and withdrew.
… … … …
Not long after they left, a gust of wind suddenly blew open the tent flap. At this moment, only King Renly and Brienne were inside the tent.
Brienne immediately gripped the hilt of her sword. Her usual dull expression had vanished, her eyes sharply fixed on the entrance.
Brienne, poised to draw her sword, frowned slightly. She distinctly felt something move in, yet saw nothing.
King Renly noticed Brienne's movement and casually asked with a smile, "What is it, my Blue Guard?"
Brienne's heart pounded, as if it would leap from her chest. She turned her head… Although there was no concrete reason, it was her duty to report the inexplicable danger she felt to her King.
Turning back, Brienne's pupils contracted sharply… A black haze appeared over the green tent, the candlelight flickered and trembled, Renly's sword was still properly at his hip, but his swaying shadow had drawn a sword.
King Renly's confused voice spoke, "It's so cold…"
Brienne's pupils instantly dilated… The steel plate of King Renly's gorget was lightly sliced open like cotton cloth by a non-existent shadow sword. He only managed to emit a small, hoarse gasp before gushing blood choked his throat.
"No!!!" Brienne wailed heartbreakingly, like a frightened little girl.
The candles extinguished one by one. King Renly stumbled and fell into Brienne's arms. A large pool of blood flowed over his armor. He struggled to speak but was choked by his own blood.
Brienne looked up and cried out loudly, but in her extreme agony, she could not articulate a word.
… … … …
There was the scent of rain in the night air. King Renly's tent was completely ablaze, the rising flames shooting straight into the night sky. People rushed by, shouting about fire, murder, and sorcery.
… … … …
"I never held him until the moment he died… I will kill him with my own hands, and avenge him with his own sword… I swear! I swear! I swear!"
… … … …
The morning light stroked the fields of Storm's End with long fingers.
Beneath the thin mist, warriors on horseback held shadowy spears. The tips of ten thousand long spears gleamed with cold golden light. The vast, fluttering battle standards displayed red, pink, and orange, showed blue, white, and brown, and shone with noble golden yellow.
An hour ago, they were Renly Baratheon's army; now, they all belonged to Stannis Baratheon.
… … … …
… … … …
Crab Claw Point, Whispering City.
In the study, Greene Kleber's quill moved: Respected Ned…
The quill paused, Greene's eyes trembled slightly… Robb Stark had, after all, declared himself King of the North, so Eddard Stark's title needed some deliberation.
This concerned political stance… Greene thought for a moment, then added—Uncle—at the end.
Greene's quill continued to move: It is with immense sorrow that I write this letter… Jon, on a strange continent, has earned everyone's respect through his integrity and courage…
He paused, dipped his pen in ink, and continued to write: Jon had a sweet love, and he also found the warmth he once longed for… He, as a commander, led troops to wipe out several bandit groups… He, for his duty… He, for his honor… May the new gods bless…
… … … …
Having finished the letter, Greene put it into an envelope, and the sealing wax bore the imprint of a swamp marigold.
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