Chapter 37: The Second General Assembly
"Your Grace, it's clear they've come seeking dragons," Ser Jorah said after some thought, "and their interest in your dragons goes far beyond mere curiosity. If any of them intend to seize them by force, staying here would make you even more vulnerable."
"Oh?"
"In the Free Cities, whether it's an ordinary merchant or a trade prince, they are all profit-driven and devoid of honor. Yet, there is one thing they value above all else," Jorah's eyes gleamed with understanding. "That one thing is the foundation of their existence—their credibility."
"To put it simply, on the open seas or the wild roads, any merchant might turn into a bandit, using force to take what they desire. But within a trade city, they rely on deception, extortion, and seduction to achieve their aims. They will never openly rob someone's possessions."
Seeing Daenerys' thoughtful expression, Jorah smiled and continued, "The more influential a merchant, the more subtle and insidious their methods become. However, this world, vast as it is, thrives on a flow of information.
"If Xaro and his companions have extended an invitation to you, they are, in essence, assuming a responsibility to ensure your safety. This isn't because of any moral high ground—they're merely protecting their reputations. For them, their credibility among other merchants is far more valuable than any immediate gain."
"Your Grace, having spent so much time wandering among the cities of Westeros, you should understand this better than anyone."
Daenerys nodded. The bounty placed on the Targaryen siblings by the Usurper had never been lifted, yet every trade prince or governor who hosted them refrained from claiming their heads for the reward.
The reason was simple: the risk outweighed the reward.
But the existence of the world's only three dragons was enough to tempt anyone into forsaking both honor and reputation.
"Even in Westeros, where guest right is sacred, aren't there instances of it being violated?" she asked.
Jorah seemed stunned by her remark. His eyes widened in disbelief. "Aside from the story of the Rat Cook, who has ever violated guest right? Not even the most foolish, reckless, or ignorant person would dare defile it."
Oh, just wait. In a couple of years, when news of Robb Stark's death reaches you, you won't be so shocked.
"Who is the Rat Cook?" Daenerys asked.
"The Rat Cook was a member of the Night's Watch, a cook stationed at the Nightfort," Jorah began. "He bore a grudge against the King of the Rock, who was an Andal. When that king visited the Wall with his son and vassals, the Night's Watch hosted them.
"One night, the Rat Cook seized his chance and killed the king's son. Then, he baked the prince's flesh into a large pie, mixing it with onions, carrots, mushrooms, and spices, seasoning it with salt, pepper, and bacon. He served this pie to the king alongside dark Dornish wine.
"The king ate the pie made from his son's flesh, praised its flavor, and even asked for a second helping.
"The gods were so outraged by this act that they transformed the cook into a fat white rat that could only feed on its own offspring.
"To this day, the Rat Cook haunts the Nightfort, driven by an insatiable hunger, endlessly devouring his descendants."
In the dim light, Jorah's face took on a ghostly quality. Daenerys' two Dothraki handmaidens huddled together, almond-shaped eyes wide with fear as they scanned the room, as if expecting the white rat to emerge from the shadows.
"Ahem, very nice bedtime story," Daenerys said with a slight cough. "But it's hardly convincing as a deterrent."
"It's true! In the North, even children know this tale," Jorah protested indignantly.
"The first half of the story might be true," Daenerys mused, "but the part about the gods' punishment..." She shook her head. "Which god do you think punished the Rat Cook?"
Jorah answered without hesitation, "The gods are the gods—all of them. Of course, they couldn't tolerate such a blatant violation of guest right."
Daenerys smirked. "The North, especially the lands near the Wall, belong to the Old Gods. But the Andals worship the Seven. While humans may acknowledge both out of political necessity, the Faith of the Seven considers itself the sole true faith. If the Seven are real, why would they collaborate with the Old Gods to punish a mortal?"
Jorah sighed, his tone resigned. "Your Grace, the story is meant to warn people. A person has the right to seek vengeance, but to kill a guest under one's roof and violate guest right—that is unforgivable to the gods."
"Whether the gods exist or which god punished the Rat Cook doesn't matter," he continued, speaking as if to a child. "What matters is the moral of the story: we must respect the sanctity of guest right."
Ah, Jorah, you're the one missing the point.
The overtly didactic tone of the story was precisely what made its authenticity questionable.
This story teaches an important lesson to those who are clever: by exploiting others' trust in the sanctity of guest right, one can take revenge with ease and satisfaction, without fear of divine punishment.
The Rat Cook's end may have been tragic, but his punishment likely came from the grieving king, not the gods.
For the Rat Cook, a mere commoner exiled to the Wall, the chance for revenge was almost non-existent, especially when his target was a king. In such a case, the concept of guest right would hold no meaning whatsoever.
Of course, some thoughts are best kept private. Saying them aloud would make others view her differently: Who would have thought the princess harbors such ideas?
As if she had already acted on them.
So, Daenerys simply asked, "Do you think we should go to Qarth?"
Jorah nodded, speaking earnestly. "Qarth is a major city that bridges the Eastern and Western worlds. It has what you need—ships and sailors. If we find the Qartheen untrustworthy, we can leave by sea immediately."
"Robert Baratheon is dead. Don't you have any thoughts about that?" His gaze was fixed on her, as if trying to pierce through the amethyst haze of her eyes and into the depths of her heart.
Let the White Walkers have the Iron Throne, she thought, mocking inwardly. Outwardly, however, she feigned a look of longing and said, "Do I have a chance?"
Westeros was Jorah's homeland, and he had agreed to serve as a spy for Robert in hopes of earning his way back.
Undoubtedly, between Baratheon and Daenerys, the scales in Jorah's heart had already tipped heavily in her favor.
But if he were to discover that Daenerys had no intention of returning to the Seven Kingdoms, then the balance would no longer rest on loyalty to the current king in King's Landing. Instead, it would shift to the temptation of going home.
Homesickness and love were equally powerful forces.
Especially since someone had already handed the poor knight a "just friends" card.
"From here, we receive no news. I can't assess the current situation in the Seven Kingdoms," Jorah said after a moment, his tone conflicted. "But one thing is certain: even if the Usurper is dead, he has two sons, and the Queen is a Lannister.
"At the very least, both the Baratheons and Lannisters will oppose your return.
"Eddard Stark regarded Robert as his own brother. He won't support you either.
"And the Vale's Arryns and the Riverlands' Tullys are allied with the Starks through marriage. They too—" Jorah trailed off, his expression tangled.
He had no idea that none of the Queen's sons were Baratheons, nor that Eddard had been imprisoned by the Queen. For all he knew, Ned might already have been executed by the new King, Joffrey.
The political landscape of Westeros in recent years had been as unpredictable as a storm at sea. Qarth was too far from King's Landing, with delays and inaccuracies in the flow of information.
"Your Grace, for now, we should avoid Westeros and focus on letting the dragons grow strong," Jorah advised cautiously, sounding both pragmatic and measured.
Daenerys nodded. Jorah had always been a cautious and realistic man.
"What about the rest of you?" she asked, turning to the Dothraki, who had been silently observing.
"Khaleesi, you are my blood of my blood. Wherever you go, I will follow!" Jhogo scratched his bald head, his tone frustrated but loyal.
The Dothraki didn't truly want to leave the grasslands. To them, the sea was poisonous water, something to be avoided at all costs. Yet their simple minds couldn't come up with better suggestions, leaving them both frustrated and helpless.
Seeing that the other two bloodriders shared the same hesitant attitude, Daenerys turned to the elders. "Afanti, Solomon, what do you think?"
"How about we slip away quietly tonight and head west to the mountains?" Afanti offered a rather impractical suggestion.
The old blacksmith from Qohor immediately shook his head and cautioned, "If we deceive the Qartheen, we will no longer be their friends and honored guests. Instead, we will become their enemies. Have you considered how they managed to find us here in the first place?"
"Prophecy! Shadowbinders can use prophecy!" Qiqi exclaimed in terror.
Irri corrected her, "No, it's the stars. I heard that blue-lipped warlock say it with my own ears this afternoon."
"They'll still find us, even if we head west," Doreah agreed with a nod.
"Quaro, from tomorrow onward, you are to stay by my dragons' side at all times," Daenerys declared, her mind made up, as she addressed her "Dragon Guard."
"Khalessi, as long as I live, no one will steal your dragons," Quaro responded with unwavering determination.
With a consensus reached, Daenerys informed the three Qartheen guests of her decision early the next morning.
Quaithe remained as unreadable as ever, but the warlock and the merchant openly expressed their delight and welcome. Both solemnly promised that in Qarth, Daenerys and her khalasar would receive their full protection.
Later that morning, Daenerys dispatched riders to notify the herders in the other two white cities, instructing them to lead the khalasar's horse herds to Whitecloud City. Hunters in the western mountains were also informed of the plan.
Thus, four days later, Daenerys and her khalasar set out once more. Their destination: the southwest, toward Qarth.
Of course, Daenerys didn't spend those four days idle. She instructed Aggo to take three horses, plenty of food, and fresh water, and ride ahead to Qarth.
Xaro provided Aggo with a letter, instructing him to deliver it to his steward upon arrival in Qarth. In response, a caravan of servants with camels would be sent to the Red Waste.
The camel train would bring ample supplies of food and water. More importantly, it meant the khalasar no longer had to conserve their horses' strength. When the camels arrived, the Dothraki could switch to the more comfortable mounts for the journey.
(End of Chapter)
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