The Traitor's Escape

Chapter One

Sansa Clegane decided she hated anything that required going over water, whether it was a boat or a ship like Secondwind or some other form of water travel. She almost despised them. Who in their right mind wanted to be on a piece of wood that rocked and swayed with the ocean waves? It was hard enough to sleep on a regular night, much less with this movement. And forget about walking! It really didn't help she was continuously gaining weight around her middle so she felt all the more unstable.

What was the worst part out of all of this? Secondwind's movement continuously made her nauseous, more than she had been since she found out about her baby. The difference between being sea sick and her pregnancy sickness were so much worse. Seasick made her more physically sick and exhausted than her baby ever did. She couldn't even stop eating a bit to relieve some of the nausea, for fear she might end up starving the growing life inside her.

On this morning, the ninth day on Secondwind, Sansa started out about the same as any other day. She was lying in bed on her side, uncomfortable on her back, feeling another wave of nausea as Secondwind lurched to one side suddenly. She grumbled and tried shifting onto her other side. In her hand, she had the amethyst hairnet Lady Olenna had given her. She had been studying the intricate threading and beading since she'd gotten on this ship. She'd noticed the missing stone almost immediately on the first day she was aboard. She remembered the stone Lady Olenna had pressed into her hand and she had put the amethyst back in place. The gem slipped back in snuggly and hadn't fallen out since.

She wondered why the Queen of Thorns had had her wear the piece to the wedding. She remembered the older lady touching the hairnet, adjusting it at the wedding. As they were departing, Lady Olenna had talked once again about the payment and touched the hairnet a last time. The Queen of Thorns had had the piece in her hand and given it to Sansa. Had the piece fallen off or...?

...Could she have been the reason Joffrey died?

It had been a long time ago, but she vaguely remembered reading about something Maester Luwin had called the Strangler. There hadn't been a lot of information supplied, other than a drawing and a few of the ingredients used to create the poison. Identifying it was easy, the Strangler was as dark as the amethysts in the hairnet and very deadly. She wondered, as she had so many times, if she had to do with Joffrey dying? He'd certainly turned as purple as the stones in the hairnet. He couldn't even gasp for air, he'd just died.

It made her shiver to think about it, not that she would ever regret his death. Joffrey deserved that and so much worse.

She wanted to ask Sandor about it more than anything, but he made it impossible. He refused to acknowledge her at any moment unless they were lying in bed at night. He wouldn't talk to her at all still, but at least when they were trying to sleep he would have his arms around her. He never tried to do anything more than touch her belly at nights. It had been almost seven days now, surely he'd have forgiven her a little bit. She'd apologized enough any time she could.

With a sigh, she shifted on the bed and reluctantly sat up. Her stomach had settled to a steady rolling, so she wasn't so physically ill. She usually had a few chores to do in the kitchens now. It was as good a time as ever to get up and move. She stashed the hairnet back into her pack, between the pages of one of her reference books from Lord Tyrion. She retrieved her cloak hanging on one of the hooks and tied it around her neck. It was usually chilly until midafternoon and this way, she could keep everyone from staring at her. She took a quick glance at the looking mirror and made sure her hair was plaited nicely. Happy with her appearance, Sansa opened up the cabin door and wandered up the stairs to the main deck.