"Ser, we'll arrive at King's Landing in half an hour," a sailor called out. The unassuming merchant ship slowly glided into the mouth of the Blackwater Rush. From the deck, one could already see the red spires of the Red Keep atop Aegon's High Hill, rising as if to pierce the sky.
"Mm." Davos responded simply from inside the cabin.
He knew Blackwater Bay better than anyone; he didn't need a young sailor to tell him where he was.
Stannis had sent him to King's Landing for one reason: to test the waters and figure out Jon Snow's true intentions.
Even though Jon was acting the part of the loyal subject, Dragonstone was on edge after their massive defeat. They needed confirmation before making any moves.
Davos stepped out of the cabin and saw Melisandre standing at the bow, gazing at the sprawling city. He instinctively kept his distance.
He took a deep breath of the sea air. It still seemed to carry the faint scent of blood and char. Davos looked down at the river water with a heavy heart. His four sons had died here, their bodies lost to the depths.
But he forced himself to focus, rubbing his phantom fingers where they itched. His gaze drifted to the Winch Tower at the mouth of the Blackwater, and he noticed something strange—men were laying stones there.
The sight gripped Davos's heart. He didn't know what they were building, but the death of his sons was tied to that tower and the chain that had been raised there. He decided he would go take a look once they docked.
The ship, flying white sails, navigated the channel and approached the River Gate.
As soon as they docked, Davos couldn't wait to head toward the Winch Tower. Melisandre didn't object; she simply waited quietly near the harbor.
Some sailors paused, struck by Melisandre's beauty, but they quickly moved along when they saw the grim-faced knights standing guard behind her. These men were clearly not to be trifled with.
The sailors were just commoners. Offending a noble's guard could get them killed without consequence.
Meanwhile, Davos reached the Winch Tower. A group of masons was building a thick stone wall. Pushing down his grief, Davos watched the foreman shouting orders to the laborers.
He didn't approach the foreman directly. Instead, he walked up to a young lad working nearby. The boy looked no older than sixteen or seventeen, his face dotted with pimples.
"Excuse me, son," Davos asked politely. "What are you folks building here?"
Seeing Davos's courteous manner, the young man replied, "Oh, we're building a monument, on orders from Lord Jon Snow."
"A monument?"
"Aye. Lord Jon said the battle to drive out the Lannisters was historic. He said the soldiers who died should be remembered. So he ordered this monument built. Their names are going to be carved into the stone. He called them the 'true saviors of King's Landing.'"
Saviors of King's Landing... Hearing the boy's words, Davos felt a lump form in his throat.
"You might not know, old timer, but Lord Jon is a hero to us bastards! He beat Tywin at the Green Fork, killed the Mountain at Darry, and held off a hundred thousand men with just ten thousand! There's never been a bastard like him!" The pimply lad looked toward the city with pure adoration on his face.
"Jerry! Quit yapping and fetch me some water!" the foreman yelled.
"Oh, right! Coming!"
"My apologies," Davos muttered, then turned to leave.
As he walked back, he noticed something different about the river traffic. Ships near the south bank were all heading out, while ships near the north bank were heading into the city.
It made the river traffic orderly and efficient.
Did Jon do this too? Davos wondered, impressed. He soon rejoined Melisandre and the others.
"They say the bastard is at the Great Sept of Baelor. Let's go straight there," said Penny, the knight in charge of Melisandre's protection.
He had stiff, brush-like whiskers on his cheeks and a darker complexion than the others.
Hearing Penny refer to Jon as "the bastard" irked Davos. It was technically true, but he didn't like the tone.
"Alright." Davos nodded. They boarded a carriage the guards had procured and entered the city.
Once inside King's Landing, Davos was surprised to find the street traffic was just as organized as the river. The main thoroughfares were marked with white lime down the center, dividing the road into two lanes.
Although there were still occasional jams, compared to the King's Landing in Davos's memory, it was a vast improvement.
Soon, they arrived at the Great Sept. Tents were pitched in the plaza out front—Jon's makeshift headquarters.
As they stepped out of the carriage, they saw commoners rushing toward the tents.
Penny roughly grabbed a small man by the collar. Seeing the armored knight, the man's legs went weak with fear.
"Where are you all going? Why is everyone running over there?"
"M-my lord... we... we're going to see Lord Jon perform an execution."
"An execution?" Davos was startled. Jon had just taken over the city, and he was already killing people? It seemed arrogant.
Penny scoffed. "Since when does a bastard have that kind of authority? Who does he think he is?!"
Though they disapproved, they had come incognito to observe, so they decided to follow the crowd.
After all, watching a beheading was a favorite pastime for the people of King's Landing.
Protected by Penny and the guards, Melisandre and Davos made their way to the plaza.
Months ago, Joffrey had executed Ned Stark right here.
Today, Ned Stark's son was going to take a head in the same spot.
Davos assumed the victim would be some noble, but looking closer, the man tied to the block looked like a soldier.
And judging by his features, he wasn't from King's Landing.
Davos had been born in Flea Bottom; he knew the people here. He turned to a local bystander. "Friend, may I ask who Jon is executing?"
The man looked to be in his mid-thirties, with flaxen hair and bright, calculating eyes—a typical sharp-witted King's Landing resident.
"Not sure exactly, but I heard he's one of Jon's own soldiers. Apparently, he killed someone, so Jon is executing him," the citizen said with a hint of excitement.
"Executing his own soldier? Isn't he afraid of losing the army's loyalty?" Penny muttered, thinking Jon was being foolish.
These soldiers had followed him from Harrenhal, survived brutal sieges, and fought hard. Every one of them was a hero. Killing one publicly for a crime seemed like a good way to demoralize the troops.
The citizen, noticing Davos and his group were well-dressed, added, "Actually, the soldier didn't have to die. No one knew who the killer was at first. Jon investigated it himself and found him."
Hearing this, Penny and Davos exchanged a look. Jon sounded a lot like Stannis.
The man continued, "Most folks in the city think he's good, though. After he kicked out the Lannisters and Tyrells, he made a pact with the people: a life for a life. Anyone who kills, hurts, or steals from the people gets punished. No exceptions."
"Aye," an older man nearby whispered. "Back when Tywin tricked the Mad King into opening the gates, he let his men sack the city..."
Davos knew the old man was referring to Aerys.
Though Aerys was called the Mad King, he hadn't tormented the common folk much. Among the smallfolk, compared to the spendthrift Robert, Aerys's reputation wasn't actually that bad.
Listening to these stories, Davos felt his hope rising. His opinion of Jon was climbing higher.
He could win battles, govern a city, and discipline his army! If this wasn't talent, what was? And since he openly opposed Robb's crown, maybe they really could bring him to Stannis's side!
Soon, a young man walked out and stepped onto the wooden platform. Behind him, a squire of similar age carried a greatsword nearly as tall as a man.
"That's the Stark ancestral sword, Ice," the citizen noted. "The same sword that took Ned Stark's head."
The condemned soldier saw Jon and seemed to plead one last time. Jon leaned down, looked him in the eye, and spoke quietly to him. Finally, the soldier stopped speaking, bowed his head, and accepted his fate.
The greatsword Ice swept down, tracing a gray arc through the air, carrying the biting chill of the North.
As the head fell, the crowd gasped.
Davos stared for a moment, then turned to Melisandre. "Let's go meet him."