Abel had never been to such a hot place. His fur-lined cloak was useless and had been placed in a bundle on his horse's back, along with Gregor Clegane's head.
He had also never seen city walls built of mud and straw, and most of the roofs were round and shone golden, reflecting the sunlight.
He was very puzzled: could these mud creations withstand knife cuts, axe blows, and the impact of a battering ram?
The girls on the road outside the city were also very enthusiastic, as if they had never seen men from the North. A beautiful girl with chestnut hair and dark skin smiled charmingly. Disregarding the strange smell of sweat, she touched Mathew's exposed, muscular chest with her tender fingers, then put them in her mouth to taste.
At the same time, she told their group the direction to the Old Palace, which was the residence of House Martell.
This was no secret in Sunspear.
"Where did these northern bumpkins come from, trying to swindle people here? I've never heard of any King of the North or House Karstark."
The Dornish soldier guarding the Triple Gate had a thick red beard and perfectly white, even teeth. His Common Tongue carried a heavy local accent, and his attitude was extremely rude. Waving the long spear in his hand, he drove them away, saying, "Go, go, go, go cool off somewhere else. Say one more word and I'll arrest you and throw you in the dungeon to rot for a month first."
Abel was prepared for the guard's attitude. He neither got angry nor argued. Instead, he took two steps back, reached into his bosom, and suddenly pulled out a flag, tying it to his longsword to let it flutter in the air.
A bloodthirsty Running Wolf Flag danced in the wind.
He repeated, "Please convey to Prince Martell, Lord of Sunspear, that I represent the King of the North, the Lord of Winterfell, and Lord Rickard of House Karstark, to present a gift."
Their group had traveled cautiously south, never displaying their flag and never taking the main roads.
Even upon reaching Sunspear, they were reluctant to reveal their identities.
However, before they set off, the young master had said that if people didn't believe them, they would have no choice but to reveal their identities.
Although somewhat dangerous, in these times, not just anyone could meet a Prince.
The guard's brows furrowed.
Before, these disheveled fellows, without even a shred of identification, kept claiming they wanted to see the Prince. He would have to be crazy or foolish to run such an errand for people like them.
Now, looking at the Running Wolf Flag fluttering in the air, he muttered, "Why didn't you take it out earlier? Wait here, I'll go ask, but whether you can see the Prince depends on whether your gift is valuable."
Seeing that the other party finally agreed to help convey the message, Abel quietly added, "Please tell Prince Martell that the gift we carry is related to Princess Elia Martell!"
The guard's body stiffened. He looked back with a meaningful glance, said nothing, but his steps quickened considerably.
From the Triple Gate, a straight and wide flagstone road led directly to the Old Palace. Visitors to House Martell usually took this route to avoid getting lost in the labyrinthine city.
Half an hour later, Abel walked along this road, accompanied by Mathew, Yaris, Todd, Owen, and their large packs on their backs.
To complete this journey, Eddard had dispatched two of his retainers, and Lord Rickard had also provided some support.
One person, two horses, fully stocked with supplies and silver stags, they had ridden tirelessly all the way.
The journey itself had not been peaceful; prolonged warfare had turned too many people into outlaws.
They might have been caravan guards, professional soldiers, farmers, or stablehands before, but once they took up weapons, they became bandits and brigands who robbed others to survive.
Abel himself had killed no fewer than five such people.
Even now, he remembered the child, not yet fifteen, whose tender face was extremely distorted as he clutched a pitchfork, trying to stab him off his horse, only to be impaled through the chest by a javelin.
What a hellish world!!
"We're here."
The guard's unique accent pulled Abel from his memories.
They did not stop at the Old Palace, but followed another road, arriving at the Water Gardens, built by the sea.
This was the private residence of the Lord of Dorne.
Abel came to his senses, finding himself in a large orange grove. The path was paved with light red marble, and with every breath, a rich sweetness filled his nose and mouth.
He unconsciously sniffed, and his mood inexplicably brightened.
The air in the North was always crisp and cold, especially in Karhold, which was surrounded by forests, filled with the smell of decaying leaves everywhere.
"Thump."
As an orange fell to the ground, a voice sounded, weak yet very gentle and friendly, making one feel as if a warm sea breeze was caressing their face.
"I hear you've come a long way with a gift. May I know what it is?"
In the shadow of an orange tree, Prince Doran Martell sat in a wheelchair, his haggard face with deep eye bags forcing a faint smile. He was covered by an ivory-white sheet, but it still couldn't conceal his body, ravaged by illness.
His legs were swollen high, as if hiding several oranges, and he was toying with a red agate Lion, his fingers morbidly red and swollen from prolonged gout.
Arianne Martell stood behind the Prince. She wore a pink robe that highlighted her full and extremely alluring tall figure. Her olive skin shimmered in the sunlight, and her lustrous black curly hair cascaded over her shoulders. Her face was charming with a hint of ambition, as sweet as a ripe peach.
"Yes, Prince Martell."
Abel nodded. It was his first time doing such an important job, and he was genuinely nervous, but his face was tightly strained, fearing others would notice anything.
He directly threw the bundle from his back onto the marble. After untying it, a grotesque, large head was revealed.
Then he explained faintly, "This is the head of Gregor Clegane. My young master knows the sins this beast once committed, and specifically sent me to deliver it as a gift."
Doran Martell's pupils constricted sharply, but his facial expression remained perfectly calm, without the slightest change. He looked at the head on the ground in silence.
"You say it is, so it is? Dorne and the North have no friendship whatsoever. Now you are at war. Who knows if you just randomly killed a vagrant on the street and brought him to Sunspear to swindle us, hoping to gain our support."
Although she spoke with doubt, Arianne Martell's eyes were fixed on Abel Karstark with great interest, a faint white glow in her dark pupils.
Just like the eyes of a viper.
Facing the questioning, Abel's heart inexplicably beat twice as fast. He silently chanted, "Don't be nervous! Don't embarrass the young master," and said, "Young master Eddard said it's normal for the Princess to have such suspicions, given our abrupt arrival. However, this is only part of the gift."
After speaking, he waved his hand. Mathew, Yaris, Todd, and Owen each threw their packs onto the ground. After untying them, they took out other processed parts of Gregor Clegane.
Then, in this beautiful and sweet-smelling garden, they assembled a corpse at least two meters and three centimeters tall.
The Clegane was naked, and the cuts on his body were very neat. Anyone with a bit of experience could tell that these parts came from the same body.
Even the 'thing' between his legs was preserved. After losing its life, it was pale and shriveled into a wrinkled mess.
A faint smell of decay mingled with the air, adding a touch of nausea to the sweetness.
No matter how it was preserved, it would eventually rot over time.
Prince Doran Martell's somewhat sickly fingers gripped the red agate Lion tightly, using the pain to warn himself not to reveal his inner thoughts to outsiders.
He looked at Abel, his smile unchanged, and said in a calm tone, "I wonder what Robb Stark and House Karstark wish to gain from me with this gift."
Ravens carrying letters had already flown from King's Landing to Sunspear.
Doran Martell had already agreed to the terms offered by the Iron Throne. Princess Myrcella might have already boarded a Royal Fleet sailboat and would arrive in Dorne, then Sunspear, within days.
However, Dorne would not refuse this friendship from the North.
The Prince always remembered his goal: revenge! To destroy everything the Lannister cherished with blood and fire!!
It's done!!
Abel bowed respectfully, a smile appearing on his face, and said, "Young master Eddard said this is just a gift, not a transaction. A gift does not require any return."
"But it can become a stepping stone to facilitate a transaction."
Arianne unceremoniously blurted out the latter part, and said curiously, "I'm starting to want to meet your young master."
Abel ignored Arianne Martell's teasing and continued, "If Prince Martell is satisfied with this gift, then young master Eddard will write to you in the future, and we also hope that Prince Martell can write a reply in his leisure time."
"Good, I understand."
Doran Martell nodded, then dismissed them, "It's getting late. Do you need me to prepare a place for you to rest?"
The matter was effectively settled here. The North was willing to use Gregor Clegane's body to try and establish a friendship with Dorne.
Whether he was willing to reciprocate would be conveyed via raven.
There was no need to inform these envoys.
"No, our war continues, and His Majesty needs the support of every man in the North."
Abel shook his head, bowed, and prepared to leave.
The Prince nodded and turned to Arianne, saying, "Go see our guests off for me."
"Yes, Father."
Arianne swayed her ample body as she followed the five men, casually inquiring about "young master Eddard."
Meanwhile, Prince Doran Martell waved his hand, summoned his guard, and whispered in his ear, "Have Oberyn send some men to look after our guests. They displayed the Running Wolf Flag outside the city, and they've probably been noticed."
The guard nodded and left. The Prince sighed, looking at the corpse on the ground, and murmured, "There is absolutely no such thing as a free gift in this world."
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