"You..." "Of course I had to silence the witness!" Red Rogo sneered coldly. Just as the man in the gray robe turned and walked three steps
"You..."
"Of course I had to silence the witness!" Red Rogo sneered coldly.
Just as the man in the gray robe turned and walked three steps toward the other end of the alley, a sudden chill pierced his back. He looked down and saw a rapier, as wide as a pinky nail, protruding through his chest.
From his back to his front, a foot-long bloodstained blade jutted out.
"Silence the witness?" The gray-robed man looked dazed.
"Idiot. Couldn't you tell I was being sarcastic?"
Red Rogo stepped forward to steady the man and prevent him from collapsing. Leaning close to his ear, he chuckled softly, "You're the one who wanted to silence the witness. I just turned the tables. If our peers ask, that's what I'll say."
"But I doubt they'll care. After all, we already completed the transaction, and I fulfilled my part of the deal."
"Why?" the gray-robed man asked, blood frothing from his mouth.
"Why? Heh. In Braavos, there are assassins who'll kill for a single silver coin—or even just for a fine-looking cloak.
And you paid me twenty gold coins!That means you probably still have at least one on you.One gold coin is enough for me to kill you ten times over!"
As he spoke, Red Rogo pressed the man's body with his shoulder and began rummaging quickly through his clothes with his right hand.
It didn't take long to get results: a coin pouch, a dagger, a rapier, and a finely crafted little sheepskin pouch hidden in an inner pocket.
"Whoa, what's this? Hidden so well?"
He tossed the pouch in his hand. It jingled heavily with a satisfying weight.
"Braavosi can't be trusted. Violating guest rights—I should've seen it coming."
The light in the gray-robed man's eyes began to fade.
Red Rogo's smile vanished. Coldly, he said, "Actually, the real reason I killed you is because I was in a foul mood. This evening, I did something that went against my principles. I killed a baby."
"I've never killed children or women. Killing you makes me feel a little better."
"You hypocrite!" The gray-robed man gasped with his last breath.
Red Rogo paused, then slowly laid the corpse flat. From the shadows, he rolled out a wheelbarrow identical to the one Cat used.
After working for half an hour, he tied stones to the gray-robed man's body and dumped it into a canal called Abathersed.
Red Rogo squatted beneath the grand arched bridge and eagerly untied the coin pouch.
"May the Mother of Dragons devour his soul—only thirty copper coins?!" he cursed under his breath.
Then he used a dagger to cut open the sheepskin pouch. When he pulled out a chain of mixed gold, silver, iron, copper, tin, and lead, his hopes dissolved into bitter disappointment, which he spat out in a sigh.
"Forget it. At least there's one segment of gold and one of silver. I can melt them down and sell them."
Finally, he broke off the chain, keeping only the gold and silver parts. The rest he tossed into the river.
Splash!
The chain hit the water—landing neatly around the gray-robed man's neck.
"You brought a wight to Braavos? May the Mother of Dragons consume you all!" Sea King Thormor cursed in shock and rage.
The newly appointed Sea King was a well-built man in his early thirties—tall, strong-limbed, and powerfully built.
"We were just passing through Braavos. Our destination is Oldtown," said Sam.
"If we can find a ship, we'll leave tonight," added Dareon.
At that moment, a general in a purple robe entered the receiving room and reported to the Sea King, "Your Majesty, someone on the dock saw a man in a green cloak leave the Night's Watch ship. He was limping and carrying a bundle wrapped in black wool in his right arm."
"What? The little wight wasn't burned? Someone kidnapped him?" Sam exclaimed.
Ulmer immediately bowed deeply and pleaded, "Your Majesty, please help us."
The Sea King's thick brows furrowed. "I can help, since the child was lost in Braavos. But I can't allow a public search."
"Braavos is the world's largest and busiest port. With so many foreign merchants, I won't risk panic among the citizens and seafarers. Do you understand?"
"Yes, yes," Sam nodded quickly. "We'll just say a thief kidnapped a baby."
That very night, the Sea King's Purple Cloaks began patrolling the city, screening suspicious individuals. The second-hand clothing pier was nearly sealed off. After a thorough sweep, it was only reopened just before dawn.
"Whose kid was kidnapped to cause such a commotion?" a merchant asked in confusion.
"Must be the Sea King's son!" someone swore confidently.
"No, the Purple Cloaks said it was a child brought by the Night's Watch."
"What? The son of a Night's Watchman?"
Word spread fast—one person to ten, ten to a hundred. The rumors grew wilder with each telling.
The next day, while Cat was pushing her wheelbarrow along the canal selling oysters, she overheard the fruit vendor and the flatbread lady chatting on the roadside.
"Did you hear? A whole ship of Night's Watchmen died last night. Flames lit up the sky, and even the ship sank," the fruit vendor said.
"Yeah, the Purple Cloaks even came to my house. I heard it was the Night's Watch child who went missing," replied the flatbread lady.
"These days, even the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch is raising a bastard," the old fruit seller sighed.
"The Lord Commander—Jon Snow—he has a bastard?" Cat couldn't hold it in anymore and stepped forward to ask.
Seeing it was just a little girl selling oysters, with no business threat to them, the old man and woman relaxed visibly.
"I don't know Jon Snow, but the Sea King did say the Lord Commander's bastard was kidnapped," said the old man.
"Mother of Dragons... Jon's a sworn brother of the Watch. He actually had a bastard? Father was always so strict—if he were still alive and heard Jon broke his vows, he might've chopped off his head with ice," Cat murmured under her breath, reverting to Arya.
"What did you say? You know the Lord Commander?" the flatbread woman exclaimed.
"Oh, I've heard of him," Arya replied calmly. "I'm just curious. The Night's Watch isn't supposed to have children."
The old man sighed. "A host can't even violate guest rights... and now—"
"Mother of Dragons!"
The flatbread lady cried out in horror, stepped forward, and clamped a hand over the old man's mouth. In a hushed tone, she scolded, "Are you mad? Speaking ill of the Sea King?"
"Wuwuwu…" The old man's face turned red as he struggled.
His chest had been rubbed a few times, and the old woman's face flushed as well. She hurriedly let go of him, and for a moment, her cloudy eyes revealed a trace of shyness.
"I'm talking about the Citadel!" The old man noticed her expression, and his thin, wrinkled face grew hot.
He snuck a glance at her, and she was looking over too. Instantly, they both looked away.
The old man muttered, "Aren't singers and poets all over the streets and alleys of Braavos spreading tales of how the Citadel murdered the Dragon Queen?"
"Oh, you should've made yourself clear. I thought you were talking about…" The old woman looked around, and seeing only a scrawny, ugly girl opposite them, finally spat out the last two words, "Sea King."
Arya was expressionless.
But she understood what they meant.
For some reason, lately almost every tavern in Braavos had singers performing stories of the "Seven Deadly Sins of the Citadel."
Especially the part about the Citadel violating guest rights, which kept reminding everyone of the terror they had felt under Deathwing's shadow.
Braavos had overreached itself.
When people heard about the Citadel breaking guest rights, the citizens and merchants inevitably thought of Braavos itself doing the same.
A big scandal can overshadow a small one, but constant minor scandals can only create an atmosphere that keeps reminding everyone of the major transgression.
Compared to Braavos, the first city-state of Essos, Westeros was never the center of civilization. In the eyes of the Free Cities, it was always a "backwater," and who would pay attention to a "remote" citadel in that backwater?
If not for the Dragon Queen being such a sensational figure, the Citadel wouldn't even make it into the headlines.
Now, since the Sea Lord's palace kept paying to boost the Citadel's news, naturally Braavos itself remained front-page news every day.
As the Citadel and Braavos continued to hurt each other, Walder Frey laughed himself breathless.
"Why is the Sea Lord's Purple Cloaks helping the Night's Watch find a bastard child?" Arya asked.
"I heard that child is the illegitimate son of a Night's Watch brother and the Sea Lord's daughter. Of course the Sea Lord is frantic," the old man said.
The old woman waved her hands repeatedly. "No, no, the Sea Lord's daughter is only thirteen. That boy is the son of the Lord Commander and the Dragon Queen. The Dragon Queen's son went missing in Braavos—how could the Sea Lord not panic?"
"Hush! Are you out of your mind?" The old man rushed forward, clapping a hand over the old woman's mouth. "Daring to spread rumors about the Dragon Queen—aren't you afraid of her eldest son, Deathwing? He's a dragon god who can pluck stars from the sky!"
"Bastard! What are you doing?"
Just then, a furious shout came from around the corner.
It was a stooped old man with graying hair, carrying a lunch box.
"Gobbywan, are you hugging my wife in broad daylight?"
Watching the four old people descending into a chaotic brawl, Arya once again turned into a silent cat, pushing her handcart away.
It was noon—the fruit seller's wife had come to bring him lunch.
After that, the cat made a special trip to the secondhand clothing docks.
There were all sorts of rumors about the kidnapped baby's mother: the Sea Lord's daughter, the Sea Lord's sister, some distant aunt of the Sea Lord, the Dragon Queen, a Northern noblewoman's daughter, Cersei, Margaery, a wildling princess…
In any case, the mother had to be someone of high status. Otherwise, why would the Purple Cloaks help search for her child?
Indeed, besides the Dragon Queen, even Cersei and Margaery were dragged into the gossip for no reason.
Many citizens of Braavos had never even crossed the sea or set foot in Westeros. They only knew from hearsay who the Queen Mother and Queen of Westeros were—thanks mostly to the world-shocking scandal of the Queen Mother's public walk of shame.
In the minds of uneducated commoners who had never seen the wider world, it seemed perfectly plausible for the Queen Mother in King's Landing to have a dalliance with a Night's Watch brother, just as it seemed believable that the Sea Lord would quietly bring the Dragon Queen's niece into his palace.
Those little island nations always loved projecting their own way of thinking onto the giant realm next door.
Well, fine—Westeros might be big in territory, but it really wasn't much of a "great power."
But when it came to the child's father, there was near-universal agreement: the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, Jon Snow.
After all, it was the Night's Watch who were searching for the child.
Putting everything together, the cat was sure of one thing: besides the baby, four brothers of the Night's Watch had been killed, their ship had been burned, and Red Rogo was the murderer.
Then her fury rose from the depths of her heart.
Red Rogo had slaughtered an entire crew of the Night's Watch and might even have killed Jon's son—her own nephew!
The Stark family had always been close to the Night's Watch. Every time the Watch passed through Winterfell, Eddard Stark would host a feast to welcome those dirty, ragged brothers.
Arya had inherited her father's affection for them. Her uncle and brother were both sworn to the Watch, and the Watch had once saved her life.
"Red Rogo," she whispered.
Red Rogo was now officially added to her death list.
That afternoon, the cat became Arya again. She retrieved Needle from where she had hidden it in the crack of the House of Black and White's steps—the gift Jon had given her before he left for the Wall.
"All men must die."
(End of chapter)
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