Chapter 10

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She knew something was wrong the moment she heard the trumpets. Call it instinct, call it premonition, call it paranoia; when the wind carried the first distant horn blast, Elia Martell's blood froze in her veins, and she knew the day she had feared had arrived.

It was undignified for a lady to run, but Elia didn't let that or the people she passed—each one more frantic than the last as everyone began to truly realize what was happening—stop her from sprinting down the stone halls of Maegor's Holdfast. By the time she burst into Rhaenys' chamber she could just pick up distant screams through the open window and could smell the acrid scent of fire. By the time she'd managed to sprint to her son's nursery, hoisting a confused and rapidly tearing up Rhaenys on her hip, the cries seemed as loud as her own heartbeat and the sky had darkened with great billowing clouds of thick smoke.

Elia had just stooped to pick up Aegon, somehow sleeping through the commotion, when the nursery door crashed inward so hard it splintered. The Dornish Princess nearly screamed in alarm, instinctively turning her body to shield her children from whoever had burst into the chamber. A man filled the doorway, broader than the width between doorposts, a huge hand resting on the sword at his hip.

Her knees almost gave out when that someone turned out to be Manfred Darke, her lady-in-waiting Ashara Dayne slipping around the boulder of a man and rushing into the nursery, her beautiful violet eyes panicked. Ser Manfred's brown ones were not, the knight as unflappable even in this clear emergency as he was in everyday life. Even the way he had flung the nursery open didn't necessarily indicate something was wrong; Manfred's normal state was unabashed anger.

"Princess," came his gruff voice. "We need to go. Now."

Elia needn't be told twice, and she gratefully handed the crying Rhaenys to Ashara before pulling Aegon, blissfully unaware of what was going on around him, closer to her chest. Ser Manfred, seeing all his charges were accounted for, turned and bulled back through the doorway, Elia following at his heels with Ashara close behind her.

The halls had become a rush of activity, men at arms rushing through the corridors, shoving one another and shouting as they hurried towards the parapets. Ser Manfred, despite being half a head shorter than many of them, strode confidently through their midst like a battering ram, sending one man at arms to the ground with a hard shoulder when the lad didn't get out of the way in time. Elia and Ashara huddled closely to his broad back, the noise of clanking armor and the sense of spreading panic waking Aegon, his cries joining those of his distraught sister. Elia hushed her children even though she knew it would do no good.

It wasn't clear who was currently raining all seven of the hells down on the city of King's Landing, but it didn't really matter; if they were attacking, they either wanted Elia and her children as hostages or wanted them dead. The Dornish Princess wasn't overly fond of either idea.

She had had no idea where Ser Manfred was going, but she followed him without complaint, Aelor's words from their last meeting echoing in her mind. If the time comes, you must do exactly as he says. Then the words of his letter spoke again. Keep Aegon and Rhaenys close to you. Be always ready, for what exactly even I cannot say, but when the time comes to act do not hesitate.

Where the squat knight came to a stop surprised Elia. Her bodyguard slammed his palm three times on the door of Lord Varys' chambers, and before she could even question it the Spider himself opened the door. The bald, portly eunuch wordlessly ushered them in. Princess Elia, as confused as she could ever remember being, hesitated outside briefly. She knew of the Spider more than she knew the Spider, and while he was always pleasant to her, she found him a bit unsettling. But Ser Manfred waved his hand impatiently and, Aelor's words again flashing through her mind, Elia stepped inside with Ashara and the children.

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