The Age of Daenerys Targaryen

Part 33: The Empress sends her regards

The year 308 after Aegon's conquest was drawing to a close. It's been a shitty year, Harlik Perk thought gloomily as he stood alone in his tent, hunched over a map. After the disaster at Volon Therys, the Alliance had first lost all conquered territories on the lower Rhoyne. The Imperial troops then marched west and occupied Myr and Tyrosh after crushing all resistance in a series of minor skirmishes in the Disputed Lands.

To make matters worse, Lord Royce had been wounded in a skirmish north of Myr. He would most likely survive, but would be out of command for the foreseeable future. So Harlik fell into command of the Alliance's armed forces. His job now was to prevent the Imperials from taking Pentos as well.

Despite the attacks on Westeros' coasts by the Ironborn and the Imperial Navy, fresh troops would soon come across the Narrow Sea to strengthen the Alliance in Essos. But would they be there in time? If only one could somehow slow down the advance of the Imperials...

A thought occurred to Harlik. It was dishonorable ... but it was war. Empress Daenerys was too well protected for anyone but the Faceless Men to get at her. That was not necessarily the case for her followers. Consideration had been given to getting some key members of the New Valyrian government out of the way, but the counterintelligence division of the Imperial Secret Service in Volantis was working far too well. But outside of Volantis ... No doubt Field Marshal Grey Worm was well guarded while he led the Imperial Army, but it seemed that every precaution the Empire took to protect its ruler.

The Lord of the Dreadfort called his captains to discuss his idea with them.

"An empress is dead", said Jaqen H'ghar as he held a dagger to Daenerys' ribs. "An empress has to get better."

"That's unfair", Daenerys complained. "I just knocked the blade out of your hand."

"And I had a second one hidden in my sleeve", replied the Faceless Men. "You must be aware that an assassin who wants to kill you will not play fair."

Daenerys made no reply, for Jaqen H'ghar was right, of course. "It's enough for today", she said finally. "I still have to talk to Gray Worm about continuing the offensive."

The Empire has held the initiative since the Battle of Volon Therys. The momentum would eventually wane because each city occupied meant more soldiers were needed for the garrisons. But at least Pentos could be captured before the Imperial Army stopped the advance to gather strength for another major offensive.

As Daenerys and four members of the Imperial Guard approached Gray Worm's tent, they noticed a group of soldiers disappearing into it. The Field Marshal was constantly visited by various people, but this seemed somehow unusual...

The Empress quickened her pace. The two guards outside the tent did not seem to have suspected anything. That meant that the visitors knew the passwords. Still, Daenerys was concerned.

The guards saluted when they saw their ruler and pulled the panel of fabric at the tent entrance aside for her - and revealed the inside. So Daenerys witnessed how the men dressed as Imperial soldiers stab Gray Worm.

With a scream she drew Flame from her scabbard, but the guards did not allow her to be endangered. One held the Empress forcibly back, the other three stormed into the tent to fight the assassins. The tent guards joined them.

Daenerys had already competed in practice duels with each of the nine members of her Imperial Guard, but this was the first time she saw them in real combat. It was depressingly obvious how much she still had to learn before she was even half as good as her bodyguards.

There were a total of six assassins in the Field Marshal's tent. The first two were mowed down by the guardsmen's deadly blades as they whirled toward the tent entrance. The rest of them resisted for only a few moments before the guardsmen won the fight with brutal efficiency. Only one of the attackers remained alive. He writhed on the floor, screaming, blood gushing from the stump of his severed sword hand.

Daenerys tried to pull away to check on Grey Worm, but the guardsman continued to hold her.

"Let me go! Call a doctor!"

"Please be sensible, Your Majesty", said the man. "There could be more attackers lurking in the tent."

But that was not the case. After the tent was secured, it wasn't long before the paramedics arrived.

"He will probably survive, Your Majesty."

"Probably?", Daenerys growled at the female doctor.

Grey Worm lay motionless on a cot with his eyes closed. His chest rose and fell barely perceptibly.

"If his wounds get infected, it can be dangerous", said the woman matter-of-factly. "We did our best to disinfect them."

The Empress smiled apologetically. "I beg your pardon for my harsh tone. My concern for the Field Marshal makes me irritable." She took Grey Worm's hand in hers. If she lost another companion ... Daenerys didn't think she could take it.

Later that day, she summoned Jaqen H'ghar. The Faceless Men wore his gray robe as always, which made him look somehow ghostly.

"Another exercise?", he asked laconically as he entered the Empress' tent.

"Not this time", she replied. "You must have heard of the attack on Grey Worm. The interrogation of the surviving assassin has revealed that Lord Harlik Perk of the Dreadfort is the client. Queen Sansa's vassal. I want to send him and her a message that leaves no doubt as to how upset I am. You will transmit it for me.

Harlik poured himself a mug of wine after the briefing was over and his captains left. The report of the attack on the Imperial Field Marshal had just arrived. It hadn't gone as planned, none of the men who were supposed to carry out the assignment had returned, and apparently Grey Worm was just injured. Nevertheless, his incapacity for service would not remain without consequences for the Imperial Army. Certainly the enemy advance would now...

"Excuse me, my lord", said one of the men guarding the tent. "A scout has returned with new reports.

"Let him in." Harlik always listened to the scout reports personally. Other commanders might prefer to let subordinate officers receive the reports, but he wanted an unbiased firsthand impression.

The Lord of the Dreadfort knew the man who entered his tent with a bow. One of his most trusted scouts. "Well, what have you got for me, Arvin?", he asked.

Abruptly, the scout made a leap toward the lord and rammed a knife into his chest. Harlik went down with a groan.

Arvin leaned over him. With his free hand he fiddled with his hairline - and pulled his face off! A stranger emerged with red hair that was streaked with silver.

"The Empress sends her regards", he whispered. "She is not happy, not at all happy about your attack on her Field Marshal."

Harlik wanted to scream, but he couldn't make a sound. He felt blood oozing from his mouth.

The redhead fished a sealed roll of parchment from his pouch. "A message to Queen Sansa and her brother", he explained. "It will certainly make a better impression if the letter is found next to your corpse instead of being delivered in the conventional way."

Harlik Perk couldn't hear the last sentence. He was already dead by then.