Duel Invitation

Braavos was overcast today, black clouds pressing low overhead, its gloom as familiar as ever.

Braavos had three kinds of weather most often: foggy days, rainy days, and freezing-rain days.

Perhaps because this place was a great reef island, with lakes and rivers within it and the sea surrounding it.

Every kind of weather was dreadful, and sunny days were rare.

In years past, Braavos had used this very weather to hide from the Dragonlord's gaze.

Viserys of House Targaryen wore black, Silver Flash and a Valyrian steel dagger with a dragonbone hilt at his waist as he strode forward.

Viserys's gaze swept over the green-bronze dome of the Palace of Truth before landing on the towering square towers of Prestayn Palace and Antaryon Palace.

Those towering square towers stood for the long history and vast wealth of these families.

Beyond the enormous gray bridge arch spanning Sweetwater Canal lay a district called Sludge Town. Its buildings were smaller and far less grand.

Long Canal ran alongside the buildings. At this time, serpent boats and cargo barges already moved through its waters.

Among those passing vessels were now ships belonging to the crab-catching sailors' Rum Association.

The crab boat sailors bore a symbol of crossed, symmetrical Black Tar Rum bottles and enormous Sea Lord Crabs. Ordinary ships did not dare provoke them.

Seeing Prestayn Palace so bustling today, many oarsmen stopped working and stared at the spectacle.

Although Prestayn Palace was private property, Braavos's great families were as rich as kings, and their estates resembled palaces.

Viserys slowly climbed the white patterned marble steps of Prestayn Palace, his gaze rising with each step.

This would be Viserys's grand performance in Braavos. He had stirred up so much trouble that even the Sea Lord would not appreciate a political refugee capable of causing such a commotion.

But all that was already like drifting smoke. First, he would avenge Moro; afterward, it would be time for him to leave Braavos.

The Prestayn guards gripping their slender swords wore grave expressions. One look told them this visitor meant trouble.

Yet they did not dare act rashly. Judging by his build, this silver-haired man was also a dangerous killer.

Besides, these sailors from the ice-sea crab boats had caused trouble before. They were all blacklisted figures.

Beneath the tall archway of House Prestayn's courtyard, Viserys lifted the cover from a silver platter. Inside lay the head of a dead fish.

He had originally wanted a horse's head or a pig's head, but in a harbor city like Braavos, fish heads were more common.

The bloody head of a great fish sat beneath House Prestayn's archway like an accusation written in blood.

"Gods, that's a dead fish head. I'm not seeing things, am I?"

"Who is this silver-haired young man? He's provoking Plestan. Old Plestan will be furious."

"He's a descendant of the Dragonlords, the exiled Viserys."

"Isn't that the Landless King?"

The moment they saw the dead fish head, the atmosphere reached its peak. Fishermen and sailors pointed and whispered.

House Prestayn rarely suffered such naked provocation.

"I have a gift for Yoko Plestan," Viserys said. "A gift he cannot refuse."

The guards' faces darkened. What kind of gift was that? It was plainly a dead fish's head.

Alarm bells began to ring, echoing throughout the Prestayn courtyard. Even the neighboring courtyard of House Antaryon noticed the disturbance.

The gates opened, and House Prestayn's patriarch emerged first. He was already very old, a decrepit old man in Viserys's eyes.

Yoko Plestan followed behind the patriarch, while the towering Titan's Bastard, Mero, led several guards.

The big, burly guards wore the slender swords unique to the Free Trade Cities at their waists.

"You're courting death." Yoko's heart burned with rage when he saw the dead fish head.

He had not expected Viserys of House Targaryen to be so ungrateful.

Over the life of a mere Water Dancer, he had come all the way to House Prestayn's doorstep to make a scene.

Especially when Yoko saw the men Viserys had brought, those fierce sailors reeking of salt and dried fish.

These crab boat sailors also had an old grudge against House Prestayn.

"You need not speak, Yoko." Old Plestan stopped his heir and looked at the young man before him, the exiled king.

His son was as stupid as a fish, and the Titan's Bastard he had brought along was another greedy, crude fool.

Even if he wanted to recruit talent, there had been no need to act with such viciousness.

Some people yielded to softness but not force. And Viserys was no simple man to handle.

In only a short time in Braavos, he had built connections with figures such as Black Pearl, Nightingale, the Crab Tycoon, and the former First Sword.

Most important was the Sea Lord's attitude. The Sea Lord was quiet and reserved, yet no one knew whom he would support.

And what could escape the Sea Lord's eyes? House Prestayn's courtyard stood right beside the Sea Lord's family estate.

This affair was embarrassing enough already. Once it was settled, he would have Mero thrown out at once.

"Young man, such rudeness is not the way of courtesy. Especially since you were born of the ancient and noble Dragonlord family, you should not behave like a street thug," Old Plestan said, glancing at the packed canal.

No matter how today was resolved, House Prestayn's face would be utterly lost.

"Your son's dog killed my friend," Viserys said.

"That is the life of a Water Dancer, young man. Water Dancers often choose duels." Old Plestan patiently tried to steady the situation. "But now you have brought a dead fish head and sailors reeking of salted fish. Have you lost your mind?"

"I have not. I think I have found the path of truth. I demand a duel with Yoko Plestan." Viserys drew Silver Flash and pointed it at Yoko Plestan.

"Let the gods above witness this grand performance."

This was not the first duel between a Dragonlord descendant and a Braavosi. Years ago, the Rogue Prince Daemon fell for Laena, daughter of the Sea Snake. He provoked Laena's fiancé, who had squandered his fortune and was the son of the former Sea Lord, then easily slaughtered him in a duel.

"Viserys, we could have discussed this properly. We can offer some gold to make up for your losses." Old Plestan gritted his teeth. This had become a fight to the death from the very start. He knew his son well enough; Yoko was no match for him.

"Truth lies upon the sword. I do not need money. I am avenging my friend."

"Accept it!"

"Accept it!"

The sailors loved a good spectacle and feared no escalation. Seeing Yoko shrinking back, they immediately erupted in jeers.

Wave after wave of booing and derisive shouts rang out.

Judging by appearance alone, Plestan was not fit to touch Viserys's heels. The same was true of their physiques and ferocity.

Yoko's face went pale, then red, and he still did not dare step forward to speak.

But if he stayed silent and acted like a coward in the face of a formal duel, his reputation in Braavos would be ruined forever.

"He is no prince. He is a mad dog, a lunatic," Yoko Plestan said.

"Duels are dangerous, Viserys." Old Plestan's expression remained somber, but countless thoughts raced through his mind. Since things had come to this, if Viserys were killed in the duel, it would simply be his own misfortune.

Add Bookmark

Return to Contents

Report Chapter Error

Share with Friends: