Ten Thousand Ships Cross

On the deck of the Silent Lord.

Obara Dayne and Evans Dayne stared wide-eyed at each other. Evans's legs had gone weak, and he could only lean against his grandmaster Visari, enduring his grandmaster's disdainful look.

"You say you're this generation's Sword of the Morning?" Lonzell looked Obara up and down. In his magical sight, the girl before him was filled with energy as brilliant as starlight, while the greatsword on her back shone even more intensely. If Valyrian steel was like searing flame frozen into ice, then Dawn was like a star condensed together, still burning fiercely. No wonder the legends of Westeros claimed that this greatsword was no less remarkable than a Valyrian steel blade.

"Of course." Obara Dayne was also sizing up Lonzell. She sniffed and said doubtfully, "Are you one of those Targaryens sitting on the Iron Throne? No, you don't stink like those people."

"Girl, watch your words," Lynn Valtaken said in a deep voice.

Obara was no less blunt. Just as she was about to draw her sword, she noticed Lynn, Hofa, and Ago beside Lonzell, all with their hands on their weapons.

Ago had even taken down Moonchant.

Only then did Obara lower her raised hand. "Fine, fine. I apologize."

Lonzell pointed at Obara Dayne and asked Evans, "Is what she said true?"

Not daring to meet his sister's fierce gaze, Evans evasively replied, "Obara is indeed one of the finest swordsmen in the family, but this generation's Sword of the Morning is our great-uncle, Ser Oberyn Dayne. He has not yet passed away, so..."

"Dawn is in my hands now." Obara shot her brother a glare. "Great-Uncle Oberyn is too old. He can no longer bear the responsibility of wielding Dawn."

"Tell me about that sword of yours." Compared to the Dayne family's internal affairs, Lonzell was clearly more interested in Dawn.

Obara proudly drew Dawn and planted it into the deck before her. Lynn's face twitched at the sight.

This is our ship!

But seeing that Lonzell had no objection, Lynn did not press the matter and continued listening to Obara's introduction.

"The ancestors of House Dayne can be traced back to the Dawn Age ten thousand years ago, at least two thousand years older than the Stark family of the North. The first Dayne built a castle after pursuing a fallen star, and Dawn came from that fallen star. It is said that our ancestor used fire from beyond the heavens to forge the fallen star, and in the end, the greatsword Dawn was born from the heart of that star. With this blade, our ancestors ruled the Torrentine for thousands of years, until Queen Nymeria crossed with Ten Thousand Ships and sent the last King of the Torrentine to the Wall."

Obara looked at Silver Blood hanging at Lonzell's waist. Though she did not know what kind of sword it was, its shape alone told her it was a peerless blade.

"I wonder if I might have the honor of testing your sword." Obara looked at Lonzell with blazing eyes.

"Don't push your luck!" Ago stepped forward this time. "I'll be your opponent."

"Ago, let me." Lonzell pulled Ago behind him. "I can hear Silver Blood cheering. Let her cross blades with Dawn."

"As you command, my blood of my blood." Ago swiftly put Moonchant away and returned crisply to his original position.

"Good thing your ship is big enough." Without warning, Obara yanked up the greatsword and brought it straight down.

Lonzell did not even look. With a flick of Silver Blood, he caught Dawn just as its vertical strike shifted into a horizontal slash.

With a clang, it was Dawn—the heavier and more powerful blade—that was knocked aside. Obara hurriedly turned with the force of the blow and swung upward at Lonzell, but he struck Dawn first. Then he twisted his wrist and tapped Obara's wrist with his hilt.

Clang.

Dawn fell to the deck. The victor had been decided.

"I lost. Fine swordsmanship." Obara conceded readily. "Thank you for letting Dawn experience the joy of battle."

Lonzell nodded and motioned for her to pick up her sword. "What do you plan to do next?"

"I was originally planning to go to Pentos and become a mercenary."

"I can lend you a ship to take you to Pentos," Lonzell said.

"But the treatment here seems better than in Pentos. I wonder if you have any need for my sword."

"That works too. Just go register with Lynn." Lonzell pointed at Lynn, who raised an eyebrow as if to say that although she had not defeated his lord, that was perfectly normal. Lasting as long as she had was already impressive.

"But someday, your sword may end up cutting down your own countrymen," Valar teased from where he was crouching nearby.

Obara tossed back her long hair without a care. "Who cares? Dornishmen kill each other no less often than they fight those Reachmen and Stormlands cowards."

After watching Obara leave, Diana Tully finally emerged from the cabin. Her younger brother Alan Tully had been settled on another ship, where Zesal the Shadow Weaver was treating him. Yes, this poisoner with one missing leg was not only skilled with poisons, but also with Eastern medicine.

"Lady Diana, tell me what you think of Lady Obara, and what you think of Dorne." Lonzell handed the girl, now wearing a neat silver dress, a cup of light wine and smiled.

"Obara is different from ordinary Dornishmen," Diana said. "She does not care about many of the things Dornishmen care about. To her, knightly tales are more appealing than the erotic literature spread through the deserts of Dorne. The greatsword Dawn and battle please her more than men or women. She loves warhorses and armor more than silk gowns, and battle more than a girl's embroidery and tapestry."

Lonzell nodded, signaling for her to continue.

Diana looked at the young man before her with some awe. Two enormous dragons circled leisurely overhead, utterly unconcerned with what was happening below.

"I cannot tell that she was lying." Diana continued sharing what she knew of Dorne. "The Dornishmen are not a united whole. The Salt Dornishmen along the eastern coast bear more Rhoynar traits. The Stony Dornishmen of the western mountains are closer to the descendants of Andals and First Men, tall in stature and fair in complexion. The Sandy Dornishmen of the central deserts possess traits of both, though their skin is darker due to the desert climate. In ancient times, kingdoms of every size were scattered across this land. Only after Queen Nymeria crossed with Ten Thousand Ships did the rising Martell family gradually unite all of Dorne and destroy the many kings of Dorne."

"Go into detail."

"There are several powerful families in Dorne. The Martell family goes without saying—they call themselves the Princes of Dorne and rule the whole realm. The Yronwood family of Yronwood was once the most powerful force in Dorne. Though defeated by the Martell family, they remain formidable, and their betrayal has left them with a deep feud against the Fowler family. The Dayne family and the Blackmont family in the west do not fully submit to Martell leadership either. The Uller family in the center is famous throughout the Seven Kingdoms because no one can guess what they will do next. In the northeast, the Vail family is cruel and cunning. They have feuded with the lords of the Eastern Borderlands for years, and because they once poisoned an Yronwood lord at a feast, their relationship with the Yronwood family is terrible."

"But when the Conqueror invaded Dorne, they still united." Lonzell pointed this out, but did not continue. Instead, he nodded to Diana, seemingly appreciating her extensive knowledge.

"Thank you for your praise." Diana lifted her skirt and curtsied.

"What are your plans from here?"

"We would like to request your protection until my hot-tempered father calms down." Diana lowered her head helplessly. "He is simply too overbearing. Perhaps time will help him cool off."

"There are already cabins prepared on my ship for you and Alan." Lonzell nodded. "I hope you enjoy your stay."

The wind swept across the massive fleet.

Upon the Narrow Sea, more than a thousand ships sailed westward in a mighty procession, countless sails billowing high.

Westeros.

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