Chapter VI. Killing monsters

Dorne, Sunspear

Year 115 BC

Nymeria Nymeros Martell

Nymeria sat down behind the massive mahogany desk on a carved chair made of the same wood and gestured for her guest to sit opposite. Meanwhile, her uncle sat on one of the chairs against the wall, alert and watching, like a snake ready to attack at any moment.

Her gaze focused on an exotic warrior from a distant land, a magical sword at his side and an aura that rivalled the Dragonlords of Valyria. Not that he was as arrogant as, say, Arrec Durrandon or Garth, or the few Dragonlords she'd seen in Pentos or Myr; quite the contrary. But his manner, his confidence, and his gaze spoke of a man accustomed to power and obedience. From a young age, she had been trained to pay attention to such details.

The whole situation wasn't just a surprise to her; it was intriguing and mysterious. Morgan had mentioned to her in passing a few days ago that another fool had gone hunting the beast that had killed her brother. She'd immediately dismissed the thought, certain he wasn't the first, nor would he be the last, to go to certain death. How could anyone possibly hope to defeat a beast that had slaughtered two hundred Dornish spears and a dozen knights?… Apparently, someone could.

What strange lands did he come from? She couldn't say. Her knowledge of Yi-ti, Leng, and the lands beyond the Bone Mountains was minimal, and from what she did know, it was difficult to distinguish between myth and truth.

Although the stranger bore a passing resemblance to the famed Tall Men of Leng, the information about them didn't mention reptilian eyes or pointed ears. And the fact that he had dragged the beast's incredibly heavy body for so many miles suggested a strength more befitting mythical giants from the far north than a human being.

Moreover, the armour, the magical blade, and his overall demeanour and manners bespoke noble birth, so she decided to treat the stranger accordingly.

Though his appearance alone held something unsettling, and looking into his inhuman eyes for more than a second or two was impossible, she had to admit that he himself behaved with respect and refinement. Moreover, his appearance was pleasing to the eye, exceedingly pleasing. In a truly inhuman way.

Turning to him, she said, "I wanted to thank you once again, for by slaying that beast, you did me a great favour, not only because it killed my brother, but also because it also poses a threat to my subjects. But if I might know your name, sir?"

He nodded slightly, then, removing his dark glove and running his fingers through his short hair, replied, "I am Neferion of House Aldmeri, son of Akatosh, or Auri-el, depending on where you ask. And you could say that killing monsters is in my blood."

"As I suspected, Lord Neferion, you are of noble birth. Forgive me for asking, but where do you come from? Leng, Nefer, as your name suggests?" she asked, unconcealedly curious.

The man hesitated, but after a brief moment of thought, instead of answering, he asked, "I take it that the furthest eastern land you've heard of in Westeros is Asshai? If so, I must disabuse you. My homeland lies far east of Asshai."

She asked incredulously, "You mean there are other lands beyond the furthest east? You've found yourself far from home, then."

But why had this stranger come to Dorne, having travelled at least 10,000 miles, roughly the distance from Dorne to Asshai? He must have crossed all of Essos or taken a ship, though that didn't change the fact that such a journey, even by ship, would have taken months.

"You're right, Princess, and I understand you might be wondering what I'm doing so far from home," the man said, a small smile playing on his face. "I'm travelling, exploring the world. Seeking new challenges." The world is a big place. Don't tell me you've never wanted to explore Valyria or the distant Yi-Ti."

Nymeria glanced at her uncle, but he only shrugged, as it was a rational explanation. He too had been travelling through Essos for over a year.

"While I'd love to hear stories about your homeland, I must get down to business. I'd like to know how you managed to slay the beast, and if you can tell us more about it? After all, you said you've dealt with many monsters."

At her words, the warrior briefly and vaguely recounted the battle itself, but when he began to discuss his suspicions about the beast's origins, Nymeria almost rose from her chair, as the man's words only confirmed their earlier suspicions.

Even Morgan rose from his seat and paced nervously along the chamber wall.

"So you're certain this monster was created by magic?" she asked, biting nervously on a fingernail.

"Yes, and exceptionally terrible magic, likely coupled with cruel torture," Neferion replied, his previously calm face expressing anger and disgust. "This creature was once human, and I don't even want to imagine the horrors it endured at the hands of those who transformed it into this thing."

"I do know, however, that until its death at my hands, it suffered, encased in this shell of pain and hatred. But I don't know how it ended up in Sandtower. For it did not originate there."

Nymeria stood up and walked over to the woven map of Dorne hanging on the wall. She pointed to a place that had frequently occupied her thoughts over the past few days.

"Here," she said, then turned her head to look at the foreign warrior. "Three moons ago, contact with the iron and copper mines located here was lost, and there has been no word from the men sent there."

Neferion looked at her more closely, glancing at the map. "You think something like the Sandtower beast has taken root there? I also understand that the mines themselves are of great importance. The main deposits?"

She simply nodded, and the man pondered for a moment and looked at the map again.

"So we rule out bandits, as the mines were likely well-protected and secured. They're strategic resources. Princess, I just want you to confirm one thing. From what I've managed to gather, there shouldn't be anything but wild animals in Westeros. There shouldn't be any magical monsters or powerful beasts in Westeros. Am I right?"

"Nothing but wolves, bears, and shadowcats. Apparently, direwolves still live beyond the Wall, but nothing more. And in recent decades, more and more stories of beasts like this have begun to appear throughout Westeros," she replied, then immediately added with a slight hesitation, fearing he would reject her offer.

"I will reward you handsomely for defeating my brother's killer. And an even greater reward awaits you if you solve the mine problem for me. 20,000 golden suns."

He shrugged it off. "I wouldn't mind a reward, but I'm more interested in these beasts. I admit they may not pose much of a challenge, but they do provide some variety. Plus, they threaten innocent smallfolk, so I'll kill two birds with one stone, or in this case, three."

Nymeria looked at the man incredulously. Had he really just said he treated fighting a monster capable of felling hundreds of men as a curiosity, something you fought because you were bored?

Although, on the other hand, he had expressed a desire to help the smallfolk, so he had a bit of a knight-errant streak in him. Frankly, Nymeria would like to see this warrior in action.

She felt a certain relief, feeling that she might have found a solution to the mines' problem. She didn't know where this feeling came from, but she was convinced the man would handle the situation.

She knew this warrior was no ordinary human like herself or Morgan, but in a world where the greatest power was an empire of men flying on fire-breathing lizards as large as castles, it shouldn't surprise her that somewhere in distant lands, there might exist people with the strength of an ox and the speed of a snake.

Especially since magic in its various forms was very much alive east of Westeros.

Seeing an opportunity, she decided to seize it. Instead of sending more loyal Dornish soldiers to their deaths, she would entrust the task to someone who had already proven capable of dealing with such a monster.

For this reason, she didn't mention her suspicions about the emerging beasts' connections to Gogossos and the Valyrians. She didn't need a possible solution to her problems to succeed there and perish in the dragonfire.

Neferion's voice interrupted her thoughts. "So, can you tell me more about the mines and what might have happened there? Princess, you said you lost contact with the guards and miners there. But were there any indications that anything untoward was happening beforehand? Any disappearances? Other problems?"

Nymeria looked at her uncle, who had remained silent until now. He walked over to the map and pointed to a wide swath of land between Red Mountain and Serpent River, north of the mines themselves.

"Over two years ago, smallfolk and patrols began finding mangled, half-eaten animal carcasses in this region. If they were only mountain goats or other herbivores, we would probably dismiss it as the work of some exceptionally cruel predator."

"But I understand you found equally mangled predatory bodies? And then people started dying." Neferion interjected, to which both Nymeria and Morgan nodded grimly.

 "Indeed," Morgan admitted. "We found numerous bears and shadowcats, and there shouldn't be anything in Westeros capable of hunting the latter. They're not only strong and fast but also exceptionally cunning for animals."

"For a moment, we even considered a Valyrian dragon, but then there wouldn't have been a trace," Nymeria added, trying not to show how much this all worried her.

Morgan nodded, then said, "It lasted for a little over a year, but then people started dying in similar ways. Some bodies were found mutilated; others disappeared. But the biggest sign that something was wrong was the lack of bandits."

"That area, being mountainous and difficult to patrol, has always been swarming with bandits for hundreds, if not thousands, of years, and they were difficult to eradicate. But suddenly, they all disappeared. Then one patrol disappeared, then two more, until the others began avoiding those roads." All this happened within a few moons, and then the attacks stopped."

"Let me guess," Neferion said, scratching his head lightly. "For a while, it was quiet, and then the miners in the mine started dying."

But Morgan just shook his head. "You'd expect that to be the case, wouldn't you? But you're wrong. Nothing happened for a long time, until three moons ago, when Lord Fowler, who co-owns with us the mines, lost all contact with them, and the messengers sent there never returned. Even a large group of soldiers, led by his second son, recently sent there disappeared without a trace."

"I suspect you'd like me to leave as soon as possible. I understand the rush, but I'd like to at least spend the night in the city before I do so," Neferion said, but Nymeria, hearing this, denied it.

"I have no intention of rushing you, Lord Neferion. On the contrary, I insist that you remain my guest for a few days, and in the meantime, I will arrange a ship to take you to Yronwood, which is just over 80 miles from the mines themselves."

He smiled with obvious gratitude and replied, "I'd be happy to accept your hospitality. It's been a while since I slept in a comfortable bed, and I admit, a trip by ship sounds more appealing than travelling hundreds of miles on horseback. And please, just call me by my name; my titles mean little here."

Nymeria smiled, pleased with the agreement. If the mines could be resolved, she could finally focus on other matters.

"I would love to speak with you again, Neferion, and I think we can find time for that before you leave," she said, then looked at her uncle and, nodding, added, "Morgan, I'll show you where your quarters are."

At her words, both her uncle and the guest bowed slightly in respect and left the chamber, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

She didn't know where it came from, but she had a feeling that dark clouds were approaching Dorne and all of Westeros, but she didn't yet know where or what they portended.