Gendry thought it over. That was indeed true. However bitter Stannis was, he remained loyal to his elder brother. Renly, though, was deeply ambitious, and House Tyrell, openly sidelined, was hardly content to sit idle either.
"Keep your voice down, Maester Qyburn. Saying things like that in King's Landing will get your head cut off!"
"Quite right, boy. This old head of mine isn't worth much, but you're still young. Still, neither of us matters-a down-and-out smith and a disgraced maester. I doubt the ravens or the spiders would pay us any attention!"
Chapter 9: Pirates and the Stepstones
Traveling by ship was no pleasure. Even a swift voyage brought the occasional rough patch.
Belowdecks, day and night were indistinguishable. Half asleep, Gendry dreamed of the smithy's forge barn. Wearing a leather apron, his arms bare, he hammered away at a fine sword. Heat steamed through the barn as though he stood inside a fire dragon's mouth.
The scene shifted, and Gendry dreamed of his mother. Her hair was yellow, and she was singing him a song. But her face had already grown indistinct.
"Mother!" Tears welled in Gendry's eyes. His mother's tenderness was long gone. In these chaotic times, he ought to kill the boy inside him. But the dream did not last long before the uproar shattered it. Shouts came from the deck, and the cabins filled with noise and commotion.
What's happening? Gendry wondered. The ship had been sailing smoothly; they should be nearing Myr. He put on his iron mask, then strapped his short-handled mace behind his waist. Unfortunately, he had brought neither his Great Bull Helm nor his armor. He would be going into battle unprotected. Compared with a sword, a mace was a more lethal weapon.
Gendry had heard Captain Dunster describe their route. They had already replenished their food and fresh water at Tarth, then sailed swiftly past the northern side of the Stepstones without stopping at any of its islands. The Stepstones were a lawless place, infested with vicious pirates and slavers.
Could pirates be coming? Gendry wondered. When he opened his door, he found Qyburn, who had also been awakened by the noise.
"Let's go up and look!" Gendry climbed onto the deck, with Qyburn following behind him.
"Don't risk your life, boy. Smiths, sailors, and physicians are always welcome. Even if pirates capture us, we won't be in danger!" Qyburn spoke from experience.
"You're right! But I'm worried the pirates might sell people too!" Gendry said. A handsome, sturdy young boy like him was especially likely to be sold to the Water Gardens in Lys. That would be a fate worse than death.
Qyburn fell silent and paled. This truly seemed to be bad luck. Gendry's concern was reasonable. A smith fetched little, but a pretty boy sold to Lys as a courtesan could be worth his weight in gold.
Gendry emerged onto the deck beneath blue skies and white clouds, with the sea stretching endlessly before him. As far as he could see, the world seemed to be made of blue and white. The sky was blue, broken by only a few white clouds. The sea was blue too, like a beautiful blue-eyed woman even when it was not gentle. So long as the sea did not rage, she was always lovely and alluring.
Gendry could still make out the Stepstones. They formed a chain of gray islands, threaded with winding channels and sea stacks. The place was a barren wasteland that only pirates and slavers favored. The Stepstones lay where many powers met; no city-state would let another have them, and in the end, none had held them for long.
There was no time to admire the view. Gendry saw two dark shapes in the distance drawing closer and closer. Two painted vessels cut through the waves like arrows, racing toward them.
"Pirates! Pirates!" The Telescope's lookout saw them clearly. Pirates had swept out of the Stepstones to plunder their merchant ship. He rang the alarm with all his strength, and the bell roused the entire vessel.
"Damn it!" Captain Dunster said anxiously. "We're almost at Tyrosh. Once we're past it and reach Myr Bay, we'll be safe. Why did we have to run into pirates now?"
"Can we outrun them?" Captain Dunster asked the navigator, who usually also served as the sailors' leader.
"No, captain. We'd better prepare for a hard fight! Those longships are faster and more maneuverable than our merchant ship!" the navigator said helplessly. Their sixty-oared merchant vessel, packed full of cargo, had never been a match for pirate ships in agility.
"Then there's nothing else for it! Quiet down, lads! Take up your weapons and smash those pirates!" Captain Dunster thought it over. He still had a few cards to play. His sailors were respectable Myrmen, after all, and would hardly relish a pirate's life in the barren Stepstones.
"Take up your weapons!" Dunster ordered again.
The sailors began distributing weapons in an orderly fashion. The Myrmen were poor fighters and mediocre sailors, but their craftsmanship was meticulous. Myrish crossbows were particularly renowned.
"Don't let those pirates aboard! We're no match for them in close combat!" The Myrmen favored daggers, shortswords, and crossbows, often tipped with poison.
"Don't worry, captain!" The navigator raised his crossbow. This specially made weapon could fire three bolts in succession. It was expensive and astonishingly powerful.
"Give me some armor, captain!" Gendry ran up to Dunster and asked.
"You!" Dunster looked at Gendry-a masked young lad with short, coal-black hair and deep blue eyes. Though his voice did not sound fully grown, he was tall and muscular, an imposing figure. He looked like a stout fighter.
"Take this, lad! Be careful-the bolts are poisoned!" Captain Dunster also handed Gendry a crossbow, a Myrish specialty. There were not many passengers aboard, and all dozen or so were armed. Even old Qyburn received a crossbow.
Crossbows were frightening weapons, rather like firearms. Even someone without training could inflict tremendous damage with one on occasion, which was why they were also called the devil's weapons.
"Thank you!" Gendry secured his weapons. The armor was a little too small, but blows on a battlefield spared no one. Wearing it would offer some protection.
The Telescope waited for the pirates' attack. Ideally, they would prevent them from boarding, since the Myrmen were generally mediocre fighters and woefully poor in close combat.
The pirate ships began a pincer movement, even cutting off the Telescope's retreat. Fleeing into the islands of the Stepstones would be more dangerous still. A bloody battle was unavoidable!
The pirates waved their flags, and their longships carried rams. The only good news was that they wanted to capture this vessel rather than simply smash into it and sink it!
"Give up the ship and its cargo, and we'll send you off in a small boat! Wine, spices, timber, silk, perfume-we know that fat-bellied merchant ship of yours carries good cargo!" the pirates shouted. Gendry saw their gaudy colors. Hair dyed purple and dark red was a Tyroshi fashion, but pirates liked it too.
"Forgive me, but this ship is my life! Without this cargo, my creditors will kill me!" Dunster had the lookout shout his reply while continuing preparations for battle.
Before his words had faded, a ballista hurled a thick hemp rope fitted with a grappling hook toward them. The longships accelerated, charging at the Telescope.
From the very beginning, the pirates had never intended to let the merchant ship leave!
"Fire! Loose your bolts!" Captain Dunster roared, his eyes bloodshot. Pirates attacked those who resisted them with redoubled ferocity. Everyone aboard the Telescope was in mortal danger.
Chapter 10: Storm and Hammer
Beneath the vast sky of the Narrow Sea, a pirate fleet hunted.
The Telescope was in the channel north of the Stepstones. Once the pirate longships dragged her into the narrow passages between the islands, escape would be impossible.
Gendry noticed that most of the Myrmen had olive skin and black hair, quite unlike the Lyseni. Many people considered them close kin to the Rhoynar.
The two pirate longships closed in from either side, their flags and sails black. Their ballistae fired grappling hooks attached to ropes, then launched great bolts. As the longships drew close, boarding ladders were thrown up too. Hooks and ladders came too fast and in too great a number for the sailors to remove them all.
Whoosh! Whoosh! The Myrish sailors returned fire through the rain of bolts. Several pirates were struck, and after cries of pain and anguish, they fell into the sea. The dead pirates would be food for sharks.
"Loose! Passengers, stay back!" Captain Dunster shouted. The lookout and navigator directed the sailors' attack. Shortswords, daggers, and crossbows were the Myrmen's weapons of choice. But the pirates' ballistae were fiercer still, gradually suppressing their resistance.
"I should have hired some longbowmen!" Captain Dunster looked ready to weep. The crossbows fired too slowly, and he had not bought many of the expensive three-shot models. An archer could loose three arrows in the time a crossbowman fired one bolt; that was the longbow's advantage. Generally speaking, crossbows had greater penetrating power, but they fired slowly and were troublesome to reload.
Seeing the great ballista bolts punch deep into the ship's planks, most of the Westerosi passengers dropped their crossbows and ducked away with their hands over their heads. Gendry dodged nimbly, but before he had fired more than a few bolts, old Qyburn gestured for him to retreat to the rear. Human bodies were no match for ballista bolts. After several volleys, the Myrmen, who made up the bulk of their force, began to crumble.
The other pirates raised their shields and, heedless of their companions' deaths, deftly climbed the ladders onto the Telescope from every direction. They were well trained, and in close combat the Myrish sailors were clumsy by comparison.
"War isn't a game. It's blood and fire, courage and experience!" The Myrish sailors' line collapsed at the first clash. Their fearsome Myr Crossbow was not all-powerful. The sailors at the front lacked the pirates' murderous ferocity, and the hastily assembled passengers were no professional fighters.
Gendry saw panic and fear on the faces of the captain, navigator, and others. Once a sea battle became a boarding action, it turned swift and brutal. The sea was not land; when attacked, there was nowhere to flee. The Westerosi passengers were even more terrified. They fled to the stern, streaming sweat and tears.
"It seems I'm truly unlucky. I should have stayed in Westeros and found a little castle where I could serve as maester!" Qyburn muttered. Still, his expression remained fairly composed as the old man and the boy hid at the stern. "Can you swim? If there's no other choice, try swimming away. I've lived long enough, but you're still young."
"Let's see how things develop," Gendry said quietly.
"Kill them! What a delicious feast!" The pirates' swift blades swept like a gale, first cutting down the Myrish navigator who led the resistance, then killing several others before they could react. The remaining Myrish sailors did not hold out long before laying down their weapons of their own accord. Only Captain Dunster remained, his face ashen.
"Drop your weapons and armor! Crouch down!" "Drop your weapons! Get down!" Shortswords, daggers, armor, and crossbows clattered heavily onto the deck. Gendry found a secluded spot, his short-handled mace still close at hand, but he could no longer wear his armor. It was too conspicuous. The Myrish sailors crouched in front with their hands over their heads, followed by the Westerosi.
One, two, three... twelve! Gendry silently counted the pirates. There were about twelve of them. To move more easily in battle, pirates seldom wore cumbersome plate armor, choosing leather instead.
"I am the storm!" The pirate captain boarded too, shouting. He was tall, with purple hair, and when he opened his mouth, hungry Golden Tooth gleamed within. He wore black scale armor and carried two longswords. He looked at Captain Dunster as though he were already dead. A better tactic would have been to ram the longships straight into the ship's side and shatter her oars. The pirates had probably refrained because they wanted to capture the vessel intact.
"Why bother fighting?" The pirate captain stepped on the navigator's corpse, then casually kicked it aside. Blood spread across the deck. "These sailors aren't slaves or slavers. They're experienced, freeborn Myrish sailors. Leave the cargo, and you can live. I'll collect a hefty ransom for you."
"What do you think of my offer, captain?" the pirate captain demanded overbearingly.
"My lord, have mercy. I'll pay you a large ransom separately. But I must take this cargo back to Myr. I have collateral pledged at the bank!" Captain Dunster forced a painfully strained smile.
"As everyone knows, pirates never haggle!" The Goldtooth Pirate slapped the captain across the face. "That should bring you to your senses!"
"Split up. A few of you go below and inspect the cargo. The rest stay here with me!"
Gendry calculated the pirates' numbers. Some remained on the longships to handle them, and those aboard had now split into two groups of six. Perhaps only the powerfully built Goldtooth Pirate posed a serious danger. This was a good opportunity. Should he act or not?
"My sensible captain, you have passengers here besides your cargo. Westerosi, aren't they?" The Goldtooth Pirate glanced around and spotted the Westerosi passengers among the Myrish sailors. Their appearance gave them away. Most Westerosi looked like Andals, with blond hair and green or blue eyes.
"Yes, my lord!" Captain Dunster stammered, sweat beading on his face. Compared with him and his Myrish sailors, these Westerosi seemed far less likely to survive. Sending a ransom demand all the way to King's Landing was too much trouble for pirates. Selling them, or simply killing them and taking their possessions, would be easier.
The Goldtooth Pirate walked straight up to the Westerosi passengers. Those at the back huddled together, inadvertently concealing Qyburn and Gendry. "Damn it, they're either ugly or old. Not even one or two pretty boys or girls. I'll never get a good price from the Lyseni!"
"My lord, don't kill me! I can give you my goods and all my money!" a short, fat Westerosi merchant pleaded abjectly.
"Give me your money?" The Goldtooth Pirate burst out laughing. "If I kill you, those goods are mine anyway."
"And what's this old man doing here?" The Goldtooth Pirate spotted Qyburn at the very back. "Old men are worth the least!"
The Goldtooth Pirate approached Qyburn and examined him. Qyburn sensed something unusual in Gendry's behavior but discreetly signaled him not to act. Gendry shifted again, not from fear, but to move closer to his mace.
"My lord, please understand. I am no ordinary old man. I studied at the Citadel in Westeros and am a trained physician. I might still be of some use to you!" Qyburn spoke earnestly, neither servile nor overbearing. His composure left the pirate momentarily taken aback.
"Well said, but you're too old, old man. Keeping you would cost me more than you'd ever be worth! Give the sea my regards. Perhaps the mermaids need a physician too!" The Goldtooth Pirate seized Qyburn's sleeve and spoke viciously, making as though to throw him overboard.
Qyburn began begging for mercy, which only made the pirate laugh. "Poor old man. I'll let you live a little longer. You made me laugh. Once I've finished gathering the loot, there'll still be time for you to meet the sea!"
"And you, boy, take off that iron mask! You've got a fine build, and your voice rings clear as steel. As long as your face isn't covered in scars and pockmarks, those Lyseni women will like you!" The Goldtooth Pirate had noticed the masked Gendry. Though he hid behind everyone else, his physique was impressive.
"As you command, my lord!" Gendry touched his mask, but it did not come off. His body moved with the gesture, and he reached for his mace, then swung straight at the Goldtooth Pirate with the speed of thunder.
Wait, watch, wait, watch. The Goldtooth Pirate wore black scale armor. If this blow failed to kill him, Gendry would regret it a thousand times over.
Gendry felt as though he had found the familiar rhythm of forging iron. He focused his whole mind on a single point, determined to produce his finest piece of work.
Chapter 11: Blood and Fury
On the deck, Gendry gripped the cold handle of his mace and lunged forward fiercely. He felt like an arrow loosed from a bow, like the fire of a furnace, craving blood and victory. To defeat the bandits, strike their leader first. He had to deal with Golden Tooth before anyone else.
The mace's spikes flew toward Golden Tooth's temple. A mace was made to break through plate armor, but the Goldtooth Pirate wore no helmet. Nothing would be better or quicker than smashing his skull.
Thud! Blood ran down the Goldtooth Pirate's cheek from the mangled wound. Unfortunately, the blow had missed his temple and only shattered his right cheekbone.
Facing death, the Goldtooth Pirate's vigilance saved his life. He had been somewhat wary of the boy in the iron mask, but had still underestimated him.
"Damn you, boy! I'll cut you all down, chop you into pieces, and throw you into the water!" the Goldtooth Pirate roared. Blood from the long wound soaked his palm.
The mace had struck his cheek with a dull, heavy sound. The pain of shattered bone was agonizing. Had he not dodged a little, and had the boy not been an inexperienced novice made slightly tense by the moment, that blow would have smashed his skull. Even so, its crushing force left the Goldtooth Pirate in excruciating pain.
Half of Golden Tooth's face seemed to have been smashed apart. Blood streamed down, making him a terrifying sight.
What a pity! Gendry looked at Golden Tooth. Perhaps he should have aimed that blow at his throat; that would have killed him for certain. Gendry picked up a shield. A crueler battle had begun.
"Die, boy!" The Goldtooth Pirate brandished both blades, determined to hack Gendry's limbs off! Momentum mattered in battle. The pirates were outnumbered by the people aboard the merchant ship. If they lost their nerve, the rebels would send them into the sea.
Golden Tooth swung his long blades so quickly that they seemed to leave a blur behind them. Enduring the terrible pain in his face, he slashed at Gendry's head and throat.
Everything happened in a flash. Before the other pirates could act, the two were already locked in combat.
Gendry raised his shield. Poised between life and death, he was not without fear, but excitement outweighed it. He had never lacked strength or speed. What he lacked was probably battlefield experience. Blood did not frighten him.
Dodge! Then attack! Gendry raised his shield and mace. Golden Tooth's facial wound was severe, and heavy blood loss would blur his vision. Attacking quickly instead of binding the wound was precisely the tactic of a fool.
Steel clashed with forceful, ringing notes, like a pleasing dance. The two remained locked together. Golden Tooth grew increasingly agitated as Gendry kept his shield and hammer raised, shifting from side to side across the deck and wearing down his strength.
"Act now!" Qyburn shouted. The Myrish sailors came to their senses. If they meekly submitted, the pirates would take savage revenge. This was their chance, a chance created by the boy's courage. The Myrish sailors rallied, found their weapons, and once again battled the pirates.
"Face me, boy!" Seeing the situation turn against him, Golden Tooth grew more agitated and cursed furiously.
"Gendry! Watch out, fall back!" Qyburn shouted. He tossed a packet of medicinal powder from his sleeve, scattering it through the air. He aimed it at Golden Tooth, and Gendry took the opportunity to retreat.
Golden Tooth froze for a moment too. Powder filled his eyes, and when it touched his wound, the pain seemed to double. He could not help howling in agony.
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