Capturing Jorah

Just as I thought, Liu Qian realized.

From his first glimpse of the burly man's tangled beard and hair, distinctive breastplate, and the seasoned swordsman's intensity in his brooding eyes, his identity had all but announced itself.

Few men in Westeros possessed that combination of traits, and none of the others would have appeared here on the Narrow Sea.

Only Jorah Mormont, the knight who had once been anointed with holy oils but had been driven into exile for selling slaves, fit the description perfectly.

The distant clamor of the pirates gradually subsided. Only then did Liu Qian turn to Jorah, his voice steady but carrying an unquestionable authority. "Ser Jorah, I think you can explain yourself now. Why did you ram our ship?"

Jorah Mormont raised his bloodied face, his gaze that of a wounded bear. "Those pirates had us surrounded. This was the only direction we could escape in. If you hadn't happened to be in our path, we might have made it."

"So it's our fault for getting in your way?" Liu Qian raised an eyebrow.

Jorah clutched the bleeding wound beneath his ribs and panted. "We had no choice. If our positions were reversed, you would have done the same."

"Enough," Liu Qian interrupted, his tone turning cold. "You are my prisoner now, ser. You would do well to understand your position."

"Prisoner?" Jorah's brow furrowed with northern stubbornness. "You might as well finish me off."

Before his words had faded, a dazzling figure rushed out of the cabin.

She wore an exquisitely luxurious gown of pale yellow silk, her voluminous golden hair carefully gathered beneath a hairnet studded with sapphires.

Her face was lovely, her makeup immaculate, and the glittering crystal necklace at her throat made her milky skin seem all the more delicate.

At the sight of Jorah slumped on the deck with blood staining his chest, her expression changed in alarm. She hurried over. "Jorah! Are you all right?"

The moment he saw his wife, Jorah's hard expression softened. "Lynesse, I'm fine. Go back to the cabin. This is no place for you."

But no sooner had he spoken than a mouthful of blood surged uncontrollably from his lips, and his face turned deathly pale.

Horrified, Lynesse stumbled back several steps and hastily drew out a silk handkerchief to cover her nose and mouth, terrified that the smell of blood would taint her expensive gown and carefully blended perfume.

Fear first crossed her beautiful face, followed by a barely perceptible flicker of calculation. "You call this fine?" she demanded angrily. "Quickly, Jorah, give me the key to the strongbox. I must go to Lys and find you the best physician..."

The light in Jorah's eyes suddenly dimmed.

This woman was not concerned with whether he lived or died. She had simply caught the scent of death and wanted to seize the last of his wealth.

Past sweetness and present desperation flooded through him together. Almost his entire wretched life in exile had been brought upon him by this extravagantly wasteful wife.

He had broken the law and sold slaves to pay for Lynesse's expensive daily indulgences. He had left Braavos for Lys only because she had complained that she wanted to go somewhere warm.

Yet now, the wife he had done everything to please was laying bare her cold-blooded nature.

At that moment, failure washed over Jorah like a torrent of icy water, leaving him unable to breathe.

"This must be Lady Mormont," Liu Qian interjected at just the right moment. He had long since recognized the notorious spendthrift, Lynesse Hightower.

Even though he was still somewhat annoyed with Jorah, the sight of Lynesse's behavior prompted Liu Qian to interrupt her scheming. "Forgive my discourtesy, but I'm afraid you won't be going to Lys. Ser Jorah rammed my fleet and dragged it into a battle that could have been avoided. To make amends, from this moment onward, you are my prisoners..."

Lynesse stared in terror at Liu Qian's foreign features, then caught sight of the Dragon Spirit Guardian standing silently behind him like an iron tower. Her voice trembled. "You... you can't do this. My father is Leyton Hightower, Lord of Oldtown!"

Liu Qian nodded. "I know. But I also know that Ser Jorah is an exiled knight of the Seven Kingdoms, sentenced to death by the Lord of Winterfell for selling slaves. Think about it. If I handed you over to Lord Stark, he would surely reward me handsomely."

Lynesse's face went ashen. Remembering the wealth her family possessed, she cried out in desperation. "Let me write to my father! He'll ransom me. I don't want to go back to the North. Let me return to Oldtown!"

Watching his wife break down and beg, utterly indifferent to his wounds and thinking only of returning to Oldtown, Jorah's lips twisted into a bleak, bitter smile. "Let her go... do whatever you want with me."

He looked at Liu Qian, his eyes filled with a desperate plea.

At his words, hope instantly flared in Lynesse's eyes, and she looked eagerly at Liu Qian.

"I'm afraid I cannot grant your request, Ser Jorah, Lady Mormont," Liu Qian flatly refused.

He knew full well Jorah Mormont's reputation as a hopelessly devoted fool. Letting Lynesse go would be like releasing a tiger back into the mountains. Jorah would inevitably seek a chance to escape.

Only by keeping the goddess who held his heart firmly in his grasp could he truly bring this northern bear to heel.

"We will take very good care of you both on the journey ahead." He deliberately emphasized "very good," then motioned to the Dragon Spirit Guardian beside him. "Take them to the flagship and put them in the first-class cabins. Find someone to treat the knight's wounds."

Though Jorah's wounds were not deep, excessive blood loss could still kill him.

Watching the pair stagger away under guard, Liu Qian turned to Tenesio, who stood nearby in terrified silence. "You may leave now."

As though granted a pardon, Tenesio hastily ordered his crew to adjust the sails, wanting nothing more than to get away from this trouble-ridden stretch of sea.

Back aboard the flagship Swan, the sisters Jelena and Janice approached with a tightly bound middle-aged man with chestnut hair and a beard.

Jelena removed her helmet, revealing her beautiful, cool features. "My lord, aboard the four pirate Oared Ships, we killed 107 men and captured 178 pirates and 170 sailors."

Her gaze shifted to the prisoner. "This man is their leader."

Liu Qian nodded and studied the dejected pirate. "Tell me about yourself. What's your name?"

"Rollo Uhoris, my lord," the man replied dispiritedly. "From Tyrosh. I do a little smuggling... and occasionally... some piracy."

He stole a fearful glance at Liu Qian, utterly baffled. He had been plundering a merchant ship when it collided with a fleet approaching from the south. Rollo had thought his luck was in, giving him two prizes for the price of one. Instead, he had run into an opponent he could not handle. Even now, he could not understand why he had encountered a fleet so well equipped, with such formidable soldiers.

Rollo Uhoris...

Something stirred in Liu Qian's mind. He seemed to remember that name from the original story.

He happened to need a guide familiar with the complicated waterways of the Stepstones.

"How much do you know about the Stepstones?" Liu Qian wanted

to know.

A flicker of the will to survive appeared in Rollo's eyes, and he hurried to answer. "I know them like the back of my hand, my lord! Every reef, every island, every sea cave where a ship can hide-I know them all."

"Very good." Liu Qian's voice was calm, but there was a chill beneath it. "Your life is spared. However, you will guide us into the Stepstones. If even one ship in my fleet strikes a reef and runs aground..."

He paused. "I'll chop off one of your fingers."

Rollo's face instantly drained of color. Then he remembered something else and began trembling all over. "M-my lord! There's something... when I set out, I borrowed ships and men from Crab Claw in Torturer's Deep! If I don't return on time, he... he'll kill my entire family!"

"Crab Claw?"

"A pirate chief based in Torturer's Deep," Rollo hastily explained. "He has three large warships and seventeen Oared Ships! Of the four ships I brought, three Oared Ships and most of the men aboard them belong to him. After every raid, we have to hand over most of the spoils to Crab Claw."

"How many men does he have?"

"About two thousand cutthroats, not counting the sailors," Rollo replied.

Liu Qian considered this.

Two thousand pirates sounded intimidating, but they lacked armor and discipline. Against his well-equipped, highly trained Dragon Spirit Guardians, they were nothing more than lambs awaiting slaughter.

"How far is Torturer's Deep from here?"

Rollo caught the sharp gleam in Liu Qian's eyes and sensed trouble, but he dared not conceal the truth. "S-sail north for about two or three hundred li. It's just beyond the Guano Pillar."

Liu Qian's gaze swept toward Jelena and her sister. "It seems we have another battle to fight."

Jelena remained silent, her hand already slipping onto her sword hilt.

Janice gave a slight nod. Having just undergone her baptism of battle, she felt not a shred of pity for these murderous, plundering scum of the sea.