Rick along with the other magisters climbed down the wall of Qohor. At the gesture of one of the magisters, a couple of unsullied guards sprang into action. They removed the wooden bar, unlocked the iron hook and pulled open the small door within the large gates. All the magisters stepped out through the door.
Waiting in front of them was the trio, the lady and the two soldiers standing a couple of paces behind her. There was a staredown between the two groups. And it was interesting that neither of them backed off.
Finally, one of the magisters took a couple of steps forward.
"Lady," he said. His voice was respectful, but there was an air of authority surrounding him. He was a magister of Qohor, one of the richest.
"Who are you?" he questioned. "And what is your purpose?" he continued, gesturing towards the army stationed behind her. "What do you intend to do with your army?"
It was not the lady who answered the question. The man on her right side stepped forward.
"She is Rhaenys Targaryen, daughter of Elia Martell and Rhaegar Targaryen," the man said in a booming voice and it was as if silence had struck all the magisters. "She is the Princess of Dragonstone, and Queen of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men. The rightful heir of the iron throne."
Shock flickered across the eyes and faces of all the magisters. Rhaenys Targaryen? The name had struck them like a thunder shock. Was she not supposed to be dead?
The news of the death of Rhaenys had been a very major news. The way she and her brother along with their mother Elia Martell had been killed had sent ripples of shock across the Narrow Sea to Essos. The news had been that Amory Lorch had stabbed her body numerous times until she had become a mangled corpse. The brutality had shocked and sent shockwaves even as far as Qohor.
And yet here stood a lady claiming to be her.
"Rhaenys Targaryen," one of the magisters almost snickered. "Have you arisen from death? And that too after so many years?"
"Lady," it was the chief priest who chimed in. There was a hint of disdain in his voice. "Are you here to crack jokes? Are you even a Targaryen?"
The man who had introduced her opened his mouth to speak, but the lady cut him off.
"Whether you believe I am Rhaenys Targaryen or not," she said, her voice calm like still water, "it does not matter. Whether you believe I am a Targaryen or not, that also does not matter. Your beliefs and thoughts are of no consequence. They have no importance."
Her presence was commanding and daunting. She was here with only two of her soldiers.
A single gesture from the magisters, and the Unsullied above the walls would have rained arrows on them. She would be killed the same way the death of Rhaenys Targaryen was known for. Her body would have been shredded apart.
Despite that fact, Rick felt the pressure was on them. Targaryen or not, she was no ordinary woman. She was regal and powerful. And royal. She was looming over them.
"Then what do you want?" one of the magisters questioned. "Even if you are a Targaryen or even Rhaenys Targaryen, it also does not matter to us."
"What do I want?" Rhaenys mumbled. There were a couple of moments of silence as the magisters awaited her answer.
"I want to take over the city," she said. "To conquer it. To rule Qohor. The first city in my upcoming empire."
And this time, the shock was much greater than when she had declared herself to be Rhaenys Targaryen. Probably, it was only Rick who was not as shocked. The moment his eyes had landed on her, he had been feeling very ominous about it. He had not been expecting anything good to come out of her arrival. And again, despite her seemingly small force, Rick was not feeling confident. He was having a bad premonition.
"Take over the city," the head priest repeated in shock, and then he burst into laughter. A couple of magisters also joined him as they chuckled at this joke.
"Girl," the head priest snarled and now he was angry. "Does your own voice reach your ears? Do you even hear what you yourself are saying?"
"Conquer this city," he snorted. "With what? These twenty five hundred men?" he questioned, glancing towards her men with a mocking gaze.
"People far more influential, with much more powerful forces, have tried to take over this city," he continued. "But we have continued to stand tall for decades. We have defeated many would-be conquerors and put them back in their place."
"What do you think gives you the courage to even think that you can come and declare something like that in front of our faces?" he raged. "And why are you even pretending to be a Targaryen? Do you think we will back down just because you declare yourself to be from the lineage of dragonlords? You think you are some Valyrian noble?"
The lady acted as if she had not heard the rant from the head priest.
"I wish you all surrender without a fuss," she said, her eyes roaming on all the magisters. "I do not want to bring any unnecessary destruction and ruin to the city. I do not wish that when I take over this city, I begin my rule with death and destruction."
"Girl," the head priest was furious. "Are you mocking me?"
The man was too arrogant, Rick thought. And the lady had just insulted him. The priest was not going to take it lightly.
"A signal from me and your head would roll on the ground," he said, raising his hand towards the unsullied on the walls. The unsullied knocked their arrows on the bows and pointed them towards Rhaenys.
Rick looked towards the lady for her reaction. He knew that if he really wanted, no magister would stop the head priest. But to his shock or probably confirming his instincts there was not even the slightest reaction from the lady. She was as calm as ever. Only the two soldiers behind her reacted. Their hands moved towards the hilts of their swords, but the blades remained undrawn.
The lady did not speak and there was a brief moment of silence. And then Rick felt it. He felt as if his heart suddenly tightened. He was not alone. Every magister felt it too. Something was going to happen.
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