I did not have time to check the captain's quarters. After quickly arranging for accommodations to be found for the enslaved Stormlanders, I rode hard for the Spear Tower, the Lannister guard with me shouting warnings to clear the road ahead. Wary faces turned as we passed, but none dared slow us.
Our horses' hooves rang sharp against the stone, the sound echoing through Sunspear's streets as dusk crept in, shadows stretching long and thin between the buildings.
By the time I reached its steps, the place was already boiling over. Lannister guards blocked the entryway into the cell room in a tight knot of red cloaks, their hands hovering over their hilts, faces set and hostile. Dornish gaolers stood opposite them just as stubbornly, voices raised, everyone's tempers flaring.
"This is Dornish ground," one of the gaolers snapped, chin lifted in challenge.
"Aye, Dornish enough one of yous' poisoned him," came the sharp reply from a Lannister. "Might be you poisoned Ser Gerion too."
"It was the pirate who done it, you yellow-haired fool!"
"An' who's to say he's not one of yous', then," someone in red shot back.
That was enough to set them off. The Dornish erupted as one, and that made the Lannisters even more agitated. Both sides fired off accusations like thrown knives, trying to cut at each other where it hurt most. Negligence, interference, threats of calling for their superiors and so on.
The narrow corridor around the cell echoed with the shouts, the stones reflecting and amplifying the noise until it became almost unbearable.
I forced my way through before steel could be shown.
"Enough," I said, pitching my voice as loud as I could manage. "All of you."
It didn't stop them at once. Turns out screaming when your voice was still prone to cracking occasionally wasn't the best at getting grown men to obey you. Still, a few heads turned. The Lannister men, at least, recognized me from the Western Will and the aftermath of the fight. Those were quick to listen.
"What in the seven hells happened?" I demanded. My anger had no single target. The Dornish, for allowing it to happen in their cells. The Lannisters, for failing to guard the one man who mattered. "How was this allowed?"
Before an answer could come, steel-clad footsteps sounded behind me. I turned to see Princess Elia approaching, Ashara Dayne at her side, followed by a squad of guards in polished plate and greaves. Elia's face was drawn tight, her back straight.
Her presence stilled the Dornish gaolers tempers better than I ever could. All the noise died when she reached us.
"That," Elia said cooly, "is precisely what I intend to find out."
She ordered the men move aside and had the head gaoler summoned at once. Ser Sarek Hill was brought as well, along with the Lannister guardsman who had been present during the interrogation. Elia took us into a smaller chamber nearby, shutting the door on the already-restarting shouting outside.
"Tell us everything," she said. "From the beginning. And if any of you lie, I will know."
The gaoler swallowed hard before speaking. The stories came out in turns, overlapping but consistent. The pirate had been questioned for hours. He'd been defiant from the beginning, cocky as if unafraid of what they might do to him. Apparently, it didn't last for long. By the fourth hour he had soiled himself so badly the questioners needed a break.
"We stopped," the Lannister man said. "Just long enough to eat, m'lady, an' to have the room cleaned. No for long, I swears' it."
"Aye," Ser Sarek added. "We ate together outside Ser Gerion's room. Couldn't have been more than twenty minutes."
I rounded on him. "Is anyone at his door now, ser?" He gave me a confused look. "Your charge, man. The pirate is dead despite so many eyes on him, and you would leave Ser Gerion unguarded at a place like this?"
Ashara shot me a tight scowl from the corner. Ser Sarek went pale.
"M'lord," he muttered, scrambling to his feet. He bowed hastily and fled the room.
I clicked my tongue. Whatever doubts I'd had about his competence were gone. There was a reason he was only the second in command.
"A place like this?" Princess Elia said once the door closed behind him. "What are you implying, ser?"
"I'm not implying anything, princess," I said, heat bleeding into my words. "I'm being quite direct. Our prisoner died poisoned in your cells. Ser Gerion lies dying of the same. Remind me, who in the Seven Kingdoms has made an art of treachery and poisoning?"
The words came out with more vitriol than I wanted. So much for not offending my hosts. Elia bristled openly.
"Careful, Ser Galladon," she said. "You are a guest here, and this prisoner is a problem you brought onto our doorstep, not the other way around." As dainty as she looked, her eyes held a deep fierceness when she stared at me.
I clamped down on my tongue before it could run away from me. I had to keep in mind that I was, in fact, in Dorne, and that meant being surrounded by foreign people in a foreign land. I had no connections here, no Lord Selwyn to hide behind, no Lord Baratheon to ask for a favor.
It reminded me to call for my lads and keep them close from now on. I had told them to take the day off and rest in their rooms earlier, but that order would have to be rescinded.
"I spoke out of turn," I said, inclining my head. "Forgive me, princess, but you must understand how this looks." Then I decided to throw out a wild-card. "And how it will look once Lord Tywin hears that his brother's last hope was silenced in a very… Dornish fashion."
A sour look briefly twisted Elia's fine features, but she was more skilled than I was in returning to composure.
"I wish to save his life as much as you do, ser," she said. "And for that, I believe it's best we keep searching for the truth without falling to endless finger-pointing, no?"
I nodded, and we turned back to the Lannister guard to continue his story.
"Well, m'lord," he said, wringing his hands nervously. "We came back an' got at it again, you see, really tryin' to get to him. But not ten minutes later he jus' started shaking and—and foamin' at the mouth an' all that. Next thing he was dead before the maester could be fetched."
I rubbed a hand over my face. I didn't need to be Sherlock Holmes to figure out where the 'elementary' part of the story could be found. Looking at the expressions of Ashara and the Princess, it seemed really obvious to them as well. It wasn't even subtle.
"Did anyone enter the room while you were all gone?" I asked.
The Lannister guard shrugged. It wasn't his responsibility, he probably thought, so he didn't care. Just a man used to following strict orders and not thinking much beyond that.
I turned to the other man in the room. Shrinking in his seat, the Dornish gaoler hesitated. He looked at his Princess, who gave him a slow nod.
"Ah, no, ser," he said. Then slower, more uncertain, "Only the servants, that is, to clean." He wasn't a good liar.
His eyes kept flicking toward the door, like he expected someone to burst in and save him from his own words. I frowned at Elia. Her gaze never left the man.
"Is that all?" she asked.
He swallowed again. Sweat beaded at his temples. "Well," he said, voice faltering, "Lord Yronwood came to see the prisoner. Very fast like. Came then was gone in a minute, he was."
The room went very still.
"The Bloodroyal?" Princess Elia asked, sounding just as confused as I was. "He was allowed into the room?"
"He insisted," the man said weakly. "Didn't say nothin' much. Just that he wanted to see the pirate who dared poison a Lannister."
I felt something cold settle in my gut and went quiet for a moment, trying to make sense of what I just learned.
Lord Yronwood. How the hell did they fit into this whole mess? Why would the Lord of Yronwood kill the very man who might save Ser Gerion's life by naming the poison? Could he have some kind of vendetta with House Lannister?
Considering the very woman who was once Dorne's entire reason for their hatred of everything red and gold, I didn't think that was the case. But if not that, then what?
Speaking with Ser Anders Yronwood, Lord Yronwood's son, earlier, had been the only interaction I ever had with anyone from that family, and it was a foolish task to try to figure out the minds and reasonings of people I never met.
It couldn't be to get back at me, could it? I didn't think trading playground insults with Ser Anders would make his father spiteful enough to essentially kill off Gerion Lannister just to get some kind of petty revenge on me.
I exhaled, suddenly tired, and rubbed at my face. Beyond getting to the truth, we still had a man to try and save.
"Without the pirate," I said, "we'll never learn what poison was used. Has your maester been able to come up with anything else?"
Princess Elia only shook her head. "I bade him keep me informed of Ser Gerion's condition, but I've heard nothing since."
There was a brief silence, then Ashara Dayne spoke up.
"There may be another way." We all turned to her, but she only stared at Elia. "My Princess," she continued, softly but firmly, "there is… there is the prince."
"Ashara," Elia said at once, warning in her voice.
Her tone startled even myself. The Princess's expression was stony, but despite a contrite lowering of her head, Ashara looked determined.
"Who?" I asked. No one answered, so I turned to Elia. "Princess, a man died under your roof and another may yet follow. A Lannister at that. If there is something you know, it's past time for secrets."
I could see the struggle play out across her face. Control warring with exhaustion, duty and fear.
At last, she nodded once. "Come," she said, rising. "We will speak privately."
xxx
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