"Relax, Ser," Lune Merrick said, leaning back and crossing his legs with the casual grace of a man who owned the room. "If you find it inconvenient to face Lord Tywin yourself, why not consider selling the blade to me?"
"To you?" Caden sneered. "Can you even afford the scent of the scabbard?"
"That depends on your price. Five hundred gold dragons. With that, you could live out your days in this town in absolute comfort."
Caden dismissed the offer with a wave of his cup. "Comfort? You mean scraping by like a common tradesman until my hair turns grey? Hardly."
"Then name your figure," Merrick prompted.
"Ten times that, and I might not laugh in your face," Caden replied.
"Five thousand dragons? Ser, you're mad!" Merrick recoiled as if stung. "Two thousand is my absolute ceiling."
"Five thousand. Not a copper less."
"One thousand three hundred," Merrick countered, his voice dropping to a hiss. "That is every stag of liquid coin I can muster this moon."
"Then borrow it. Sell your estates. Five thousand is the price of a legend."
Merrick leaned in, his tone becoming persuasive. "Ser Caden, with five thousand dragons, you wouldn't need to risk your life ever again. You could hire a dozen men to die for you. Valyrian steel is a marvel, but it only works if you're alive to swing it. A five-penny arrow through the eye takes your life just as easily as a commoner's. Why die for a piece of metal?"
"Killing me isn't as easy as you think," Caden said, his blue eyes flashing. "I've been a squire since I was nine and a knight since eighteen. I've ended more thieves and soldiers than you've sold sacks of grain. If someone thinks they can take this from me, let them try. Five thousand. Find the coin quickly; I buy my grain and leave in a few days."
Merrick sighed, standing up and adjusting his hat. "A pity. If you truly demand such a sum, you'll have to ride to Highgarden or Oldtown. Only the Tyrells or the Hightowers have that kind of appetite."
Caden raised his cup in a mock toast. "Thanks for the wine, Master Lune. If you find the gold, you know where to find me. I'm here every night."
The moment Merrick vanished into the crowd, Jessica was at Caden's side, her hands gripping his shoulders. "One thousand three hundred gold dragons! Caden, are you a fool? I've never even seen a gold dragon, and you just sent him away!"
She shook him so hard his head snapped back and forth. "Think of it! We could be lords! I could be a lady!" She slid into his lap, tracing a finger along his jawline. "You'd marry me, wouldn't you? Where else will you find a kitten as sweet as me?"
Caden gave her a playful swat. "Nowhere in the world, lass. But thirteen hundred is an insult. If he's serious, I might take three thousand. Not a grain less."
Jessica kissed him quickly. "If he comes back, I'll tell him the 'good news.'"
As the night deepened and the singers began their tales, Caden left the Clover. Walking through the narrow, twisting alleys toward the inn, he felt a prickle on the back of his neck. Someone was dogging his heels.
He patted Jasmine's shoulder. "Go back to the inn. Tell Gale to bring the brothers. Now."
The boy didn't argue. He vanished into the shadows at a run.
"Alright," Caden called out, stopping in the center of a dark lane. "Come out of the corners. Why hide like rats?"
Windows slammed shut in the surrounding houses. From the darkness ahead, three armed men stepped out. From the shadows behind him, two more emerged.
"You again?" Caden recognized the bearded shark from the card table. "I told you not to pick fights you can't win."
The bearded man sneered. "You sent your only help away, 'Knight.' I don't know if you're stupid or just suicidal."
"Then stop talking and start dying," Caden said flatly. "My help will be here soon, and none of you will leave this alley."
The thugs charged. They made the fatal mistake of looking at Caden's lack of visible mail and assuming he was unarmored. They didn't know the Golden Dawn favored brigandine—steel plates riveted inside heavy cloth. To them, he looked like he was wearing a simple tunic.
Caden fought with the "Martyr's Style" he'd learned at the monastery. He ignored defense entirely, trading a shallow cut for a lethal thrust. He opened the first man's throat, drove his blade through the second's heart, and gutted the third. He snapped the fourth man's neck with a heavy boot to the chin.
But the price was high. Caden leaned against the damp stone wall, blood pouring from several deep gashes in his arms and torso. He was gasping for air, his vision swimming.
The bearded leader still stood at the alley's entrance, watching his crew die. "You're spent, lad," he laughed nervously. "If I walk away now, my brothers died for nothing."
"You... you aren't running?" Caden wheezed, clutching a hole in his stomach.
"I'm going to kill you and take that sword," the shark said, raising his blade for a final charge. "Go ask the Stranger who sent me!"
He lunged. But as the steel whistled toward Caden's neck, a blinding, golden radiance erupted from Caden's chest.
"Seven hells!" the shark screamed, throwing a hand up to shield his eyes.
In that heartbeat of blindness, Caden's blade found its mark, piercing the man's heart. The leader collapsed into Caden's arms, his life flickering out in a pathetic shiver.
Caden felt the Holy Lay take effect. The massive drain of mana was instantaneous, but so was the recovery. The gaping holes in his flesh knitted shut; his broken skin smoothed over; the fire in his lungs vanished. He lowered the dead man to the mud and wiped his blade.
"May Anshe judge you fairly," he whispered, closing the man's eyes.
"Stand still! Drop the steel!"
Caden looked up. Three town guards stood at the alley entrance, pikes leveled.
"Peace, brothers," Caden said, raising his hands but keeping his grip on the sword. "Thieves tried to rob me. I defended myself."
"Shut it! Drop the sword!" the lead guard barked.
Caden narrowed his eyes. "A knight does not drop his honor in the muck. Wait... Walter? Is that you?"
One of the guards stepped forward, squinting. "Caden Storm? The bastard from the Kingswood hunt?"
"The same," Caden smiled. "Remember two years ago? Hunting outlaws with Lord Braedell? We shared a fire."
Walter relaxed slightly, looking at the five corpses. "You did this? All of them?"
"A wolf doesn't fear sheep, Walter. They chose the wrong night to hunt."
Walter shared a look with his companions. They tightened their grip on their pikes. "Caden... word is you've got a Valyrian blade. How about a look for the boys?"
The greed in their eyes was unmistakable. Caden's hand shifted on his hilt. "You can have a look. Come and take it."
"Caden! Ser Caden, are you there?"
Brother Gale and the other Sunwalkers appeared at the alley's mouth, armed and armored in the Dawn's black steel. Seeing the reinforced party, Walter's courage evaporated.
"Since your friends are here," Walter grunted, "clean up your mess. I don't want the town smelling of rot."
Caden tossed a shimmering Silver Moon at the guard's feet. "For the trouble of the 'paperwork,' Walter. Get them out of my sight."
"Move along, Ser. We'll handle the ditch."
As they walked back to the inn, Caden ruffled Jasmine's hair. "Good lad. A few minutes later and I'd have been crow-feed."
Gale, however, was staring at him in shock. "Caden... you used the Holy Lay? The Master said that is only for the brink of death!"
"I was on the brink, Gale," Caden muttered. "I'll be more careful next time."
"There had better not be a next time," Gale warned. "I don't want to bring your ashes back to the Gods Eye."
Over the next two days, Caden haunted the Clover, but no more offers came. Merrick had vanished, and the silence from the local lords was deafening. Everyone knew he had the sword, but no one was buying.
Did I push too hard? Caden wondered as he waited for Rosen's message. Or are the real players just setting their own board?
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