The entire escape went just as Rhaegar had predicted. Tyrion, pretending to be a child, lay quietly on Sandor's shoulder. Viserys, like Tysha, wore a cloak to hide his hair color, pretending to be a younger sibling. This group, carrying several trunks as luggage, boarded a purple trading ship headed for Braavos, as arranged.
The ship belonged to the Free City. Once aboard, Viserys pulled out the iron coin, found the captain, and solemnly recited the phrase: "Valar Morghulis." Of course, this was in Valyrian, meaning "All men must die." Viserys, well-educated as a prince, could speak his mother tongue, Valyrian, and the little demon, well-read, could also converse in it.
The captain was startled and immediately replied, "Valar Dohaeris," which means "All men must serve." He then treated Viserys and his companions as honored guests, raising the sails and heading directly for their destination on the other side of the Narrow Sea: the city-state of Braavos.
The summer was hot, but the days sailing on the Narrow Sea were very pleasant. They ate all kinds of fresh fish, shrimp, and crab. Wine and juice were chilled in wooden barrels in the seawater at night, with an endless supply. The calm sea was like a giant dark gem, and the stars of the seven wandering constellations glittered across the sky. The cool sea breeze blew through the little prince's long silver hair. He lay on the ship's side, gazing toward Westeros, which was getting farther and farther away, praying that he could return home successfully soon.
After this, I'll be able to stay by my brother's side?
Tyrion, full and satisfied, walked onto the deck wearing a silk shirt Tysha had sewn for him. He looked at Viserys, and from his expression, he knew who he was missing… definitely not the Mad King.
"Hey!" He went over to interrupt his friend's melancholy. "The sea is beautiful. I've only read about it before, the stories of long voyages and mermaids. Do you think we'll meet any?"
"I hope not. Besides, you think the sea is beautiful because we're lucky. If we encountered a storm and were tossed about, haha, you'd be throwing up over the side constantly," Viserys replied. "How is Tysha doing? Aren't you taking care of her?"
"She's never been on a boat before and got a bit seasick. I watched her drink some apple-lemon juice, and she's resting now."
"Good," Viserys said. "What are your plans next?"
"I love Tysha, and I want to marry her in Braavos. Then, I'll buy a house there and live with her. It's fantastic, not having to worry about my father's reaction—he can't send Lannister guards across the Narrow Sea to get me anyway." Tyrion grinned, finding great satisfaction in the fact that he could infuriate his father without consequences. "Cersei will hate me even more for running off with a commoner, which damages her ladylike image, and she's probably cursing me right now. But, haha, she can't do anything about it either."
"You don't plan to hide away here for the rest of your life, do you?"
"Of course not. I'll go home when the time is right."
Viserys laughed, teasing him, "I know what that opportunity is, haha, you have to wait until Tysha gives birth."
Tyrion nodded, his expression turning serious as he gazed into the distance. "I hope the child isn't like me, because then I can't take them back. My father would show no mercy. He despises me for being a dwarf, and he couldn't bear for dwarf blood to carry the Lannister name through generations."
"You'll have healthy children," Viserys comforted his friend, then changed the subject. "However, I suggest you two don't… well, you know… get intimate so soon. Wait at least two years, okay? Don't get lost in that sort of thing when you're young! Look at my brother, Rhaegar, he was chaste before twenty—and after twenty, too… Women who wanted to pursue him could queue around the Red Keep! But my brother had such self-control! Self-control is a must for a great man! The bad example is Robert Baratheon!"
Here we go again. Tyrion thought, watching Viserys's excited expression. The Crown Prince would probably have a meltdown if he actually got intimate with a girl. Poor Viserys, my friend. I hope you don't realize what's going on. I thought my own family was complicated enough.
But he agreed with Viserys's suggestion.
"Alright, I can wait, let Tysha grow up a bit more. We'll get formally married first. Of course, we won't wait too long, not until she's twenty."
"That's the spirit! You know King Jaehaerys, right? He and his sister got married, and even though they slept naked together and kissed constantly, they were deeply in love, but they waited almost two years before consummating their marriage. And then, Alysanne had thirteen children! Most of them were very healthy! She could still give birth in her forties! The later you do it, the better. So you just wait and see, my brother's children who are born later will be outstanding."
Tyrion curled his lip and agreed, "I believe so. The Crown Prince marrying later... is definitely a good thing."
##
With youthful, fearless enthusiasm, they finally arrived at the northwestern edge of Essos: Braavos, an island city-state and the most powerful of the Free Cities. The group crowded on the bow of the ship, gazing in curiosity at the massive statue towering in the middle of a passage between two coral reef canyons: the Titan of Braavos, a warrior in armor holding a broken sword, the symbol of Braavos. How big was it? All ships entering the harbor passed between the giant's legs. It was built by carving out the canyon. Priests climbed the five hundred-plus steps inside every day, lighting the broken sword before dark—it became a blazing torch, illuminating the route and embodying Braavos's spirit: freedom!
This city believed in freedom, where races mixed, trade flourished, and guaranteed that all men, women, and children of Braavos would never be slaves.
The purple-sailed, purple-hulled ships docked in the Purple Harbor. The city's ruler, known as the Sea Lord, was elected and served for life. His palace overlooked Purple Harbor, and he commanded all the purple merchant and war ships.
Viserys was on the docks, and he first found a merchant ship preparing to sail to King's Landing in Westeros. Seeing that the captain seemed reliable, he recited the mantra about being "dead from picking mushrooms" again, then gave him a letter to deliver to the landlady of the White Hart Inn (in Eel Alley). The letter promised a discount on lodging and free drinks.
The captain carefully accepted the letter. "Valar Dohaeris."
The words of the Faceless Men are really useful, Viserys thought. When Wynton receives the letter, he'll naturally have a way to get it to my brother—Brother, don't worry too much, I'm safe.
The four of them planned to settle in the city's rich district first. Following the travel notes left long ago by Prince Daemond and his first wife, Viserys found the best inn in the area. Afterwards, without Sandor, he eagerly went out alone.
The city was surrounded by water on all sides, built on a foundation of sea reefs, so there wasn't a single green tree. All the buildings were made of gray stone, with waterways crisscrossing, and countless stone arch bridges connecting the streets and alleys. On top of every house throughout the city was a water channel – the surrounding seawater was undrinkable, and this channel brought fresh water from the mainland.
Viserys immediately thought, If I want to take this city, I must first cut off the water supply—he didn't know why he was so aggressive, perhaps he was envious of Braavos's famous fleet and armories, and wanted to seize them all and take them back.
He lay on a bridge, watching the purple-painted fleet navigating the straits and providing escort. He felt that the color was the same as his brother's eyes. It was destiny! Rhaegar I should have a navy like that in the future!
Further along in the marketplace, Viserys even bought several bolts of purple silk dyed with sea snail shells. He thought, this has to go back to my brother as a gift. It can be made into a night robe, loose and flowing, and it will complement my brother's eyes so much! After my brother loosens the ties, revealing his perfect chest and waist – his wife would be ecstatic, wouldn't she?
However, the wife in Viserys's imagination remained a blurred figure. This must be because Lyanna was only thirteen, and I support late marriage –
Happily thinking these things, Viserys followed the cloth seller back, seeing at least four duels along the way. Both sides of the duel were dressed in flamboyant, vibrant clothing, their movements light and agile, worthy of the title of Water Dancer. Viserys carefully examined their swords, all of them being slender models. Their swordsmanship perfectly matched the long, slender blade of Dark Sister. Therefore, he tacitly agreed that the still-unobtained Dark Sister would be his to use. Then, Blackfyre must be obtained and given to his brother.
Two days after settling in the inn, Tyrion had already begun to plan to buy a large house in the area of Braavos, with its own access to the aqueduct, and even a fountain in the courtyard. Viserys trusted Tyrion's abilities, so he asked him to invite the city's top Water Dancer to take up residence in the new house. Firstly, to serve as a personal bodyguard, reducing the burden on Sandor, and secondly, to teach him.
"I knew you didn't come here just for travel," Tyrion ate the grilled clams with relish, and promised, "I guarantee I'll find you the best teacher."
"Thank you, my friend!" Viserys thought for a moment and gave him a name, Syrio Forel. The very same teacher who, in the original story, taught Arya Stark. Viserys admired his skill, where he could fight five men at once with a wooden sword and leave the Kingsguard, Ser Meryn Trant, in a sorry state. He also felt sorry for him: a wooden sword against full armor would still result in death.
"Help me find this swordsman, will you?" Loyal and highly skilled, Viserys wanted to take him back to King's Landing and recommend him to his brother. They could spar with swords in the training yard, and wouldn't his brother's swordsmanship improve even more?
After everything was basically settled, Viserys finally clutched the iron coin and climbed a small rocky hill one morning. There was a temple here with deep gray walls and black tiles. It had no windows, with two twelve-foot-high doors standing. The left door was made of weirwood, white as bone, and the right was made of ebony, as heavy as cold iron.
He stood at the door and called out, "Hello there! Many-Faced God! I am a genuine Targaryen creditor! I've come to collect a debt owed here!"
The Faceless Men were known for their trustworthiness, and for their faithful sacrifices to the Many-Faced God, weren't they?
Back in the day, Coldsteel had taken the sword Blackfyre from the defeated Blackfyre father and son at the Redgrass Field. After the defeat, it was passed around and eventually came to Essos. They used Blackfyre as collateral, a reward for the Faceless Men to take the lives of Daeron II and Prince Baelor of Dragonstone – the kingdom's excellent heir, who, however, soon died unexpectedly at the Trial of Seven at Ashford, defending Ser Duncan. But the assassins from the House of Black and White, and the king, all died in the Spring Sickness that subsequently swept across the continent. The assassin died in a foreign land and never completed the mission. Coldsteel thought they had succeeded. This unsettled debt had remained hanging over the House of Black and White.
Viserys knew the whole story. Now that Coldsteel and those bastard children involved were gone, he felt that as a Targaryen, it was only right for him to complain about the service quality, and retrieve the Blackfyre sword, the collateral.
....
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"Game of Thrones: Dragon Prince"
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(End Chapter)