The King of Winters

Chapter 83

Asha

Grief appeared alone at daybreak, her black sails stark against the pale pink skies of morning.

That's the last, Asha thought happily when her men woke her, and said that she was back with a dozen crates and barrels of several things. They had been crossing the Bay of Crabs when a sudden squall descended on them. They had not been expecting that. When the rains moved on, three ships were found to have vanished. Asha had no way to know whether they had foundered, run aground, or been blown off course. There was nothing else to do but move on or wait for them and risk another storm to come and find them.

Silently she thanked the Drowned god for his graciousness and kindness. For once he had not wanted any offerings for his drowned halls. Neither ships, nor any men had been claimed to the watery halls of the drowned god on their long voyage from the Iron Islands to the other end of the Narrow Sea and now on their way back to their homes.

They had set sail from Pyke with fifteen ships, of the fifty ships that had belonged to Lord Balon Greyjoy and Pyke. The finest fleet to roam these seas which was only dwarfed by the Iron Fleet itself, a fleet belonging not to a single lord but to the Seastone Chair itself, captained and crewed by men from all the islands. The ironborn ships were smaller than the great war dromonds of the Seven Kingdoms, but they were still thrice the size of any common longship, with deep hulls and savage rams, fit to meet the king's own fleets in battle.

They had left the Pyke to trade and buy goods and put their ships to the sea. Asha had sailed the Black Wind down the coast, trading along with her eldest brother Rodrik and twelve other ships from Lord Balon's fleet. They called at Fair Isle and Lannisport and a score of smaller ports before reaching the Arbor, where the peaches were always huge and sweet. From there her brother led them all the way around Dorne to the Narrow Sea, where the waters were warm and rough unlike the cold, unpredictable waves of the Ironman's Bay.

It was almost several moonturns past since they had set sail from Pyke. It had still been summer then, when they left. Rhaegar sat the Iron Throne, Balon brooded on the Seastone Chair, and the Seven Kingdoms were at peace. Asha had enjoyed the journey from the Sunset Sea across the Sea of Dorne to the Narrow Sea all the way. She was made for this, to captain a ship and conquer the seas. Rodrik had led them to the far east, as far as the Jade Sea. They had traded and looted more treasures than anyone could ever hope to have. When the pirates bothered them, they sent their ships down to the watery halls and bloodied the sea with their blood. By the time they turned back from the east, Asha was as happy as she'd ever been. Was that six moons ago, or seven? She could not remember now. Summer was a fading memory, and they had been hounded by the autumn winds as soon as they reached the Narrow Sea.

They had been informed of the war and the end of Summer when the Black Wind swept past the Bleeding Tower into Tyrosh harbor. Asha had heard the story from a passing sailor. "There have been storms," he warned her. "Winter storms are worse, but autumn's are more frequent. That's not all though. Westeros is being torn apart by the wolf and dragon."

"Torn apart by wolf and dragon?" Asha repeated, not quite believing his words. "You are certain. Last I know Rhaegar still held the Iron Throne"

"He still holds it," the sailor said. "Though not for long, I'd say. People talk about a legend. A legend of a great warrior, a born king whose family Rhaegar Targaryen betrayed and killed when he was a child. When the slain king arrived in the halls of the Lord of Death, the dark lord himself had been enraged at how he had been treated. He allowed the Born King to return to the world as a vengeful spirit who would save this world from the evil hands of the dragons. His coming has marked the end of summer and the beginning of winter. Winter comes with the man and he is here with the cold wrath of winter. So it is said in Oldtown, and Dorne, and Lys, and all the other ports where we have called."