Chapter 52: The Red Priestess and the "Heretic"
Egger had to admit, Melisandre was an alluring woman. With her copper-red hair, red eyes, and a striking face, she was draped in a vibrant crimson silk robe—a shade far too vivid for any ordinary dye of this era to produce. She was breathtakingly radiant; even if the current Queen, rumored to be the fairest in the Seven Kingdoms, were ten years younger, she could at best hope for a draw against this woman. Had he not known her identity, Egger would have been more than happy to make her acquaintance, perhaps even marking her as a potential conquest.
But at this stage, Egger truly couldn't see how this divine charlatan—whose true age was a mystery, whose actual power was questionable, and who relied on chemical flame-color reactions to play at being a god—could help his plans. This was the woman who would eventually lead Stannis to ruin and nearly cause the extinction of House Baratheon in a civil war. Furthermore, deep down, his instincts as a transmigrator made him fear her. It wasn't just because she burned people alive at the slightest provocation, but because she possessed something that didn't exist in his old world: something called magic.
Humans naturally fear the unknown; it is a form of self-preservation etched into the genetic code, and Egger felt no shame in it. A brave man isn't one without fear, but one who overcomes it. He felt a genuine sense of awe and dread toward Melisandre and was by no means ready to encounter such a pivotal plot character. However, since she had come knocking, he had no choice but to meet the challenge head-on.
...
Suppressing his internal tension, his reason quickly took over. Though the woman before him was terrifying, she wasn't as mercurial as the Mad King; she wouldn't seek his life for no reason. If the enemy of my enemy is my friend, then Melisandre—who knew of the White Walkers' existence and was devoted to the Lord of Light—should theoretically be an ally to the Night's Watch, a comrade in the same camp. He wanted to desert the Watch, but she didn't know that.
Having grasped this key point in an instant, Egger calmed down. He stood up from the table and composedly sized up the newcomer. He couldn't help but wonder if her exquisite features were natural or a product of sorcery.
He assumed Melisandre had sought him out to inquire about the situation at the Wall and beyond, gauging the threat of the Others to formulate a strategy. Should he tell the truth, or exaggerate to see if he could swindle some aid?
Wait, one step at a time. He first had to consider how to greet her. I've heard much of you? No, if he weren't aware of the plot, he shouldn't know who Melisandre was. He had to play it safe and act as if they were strangers. He would keep it simple and address her as Lady.
"Good evening, my Lady."
"Good evening." Melisandre offered a soft, seductive smile. "A representative of the Shield of the Realms comes to Dragonstone as a guest; it is only right that you be well-entertained. Alas, the island's resources are meager. If we have been remiss, I ask for your pardon."
"You are too kind. I am here on official business, not for pleasure."
Melisandre nodded with a smile and slowly approached the four men at the table.
Due to the sweltering heat, the men had their sleeves rolled up. As she neared, Egger felt a wave of heat wash over his exposed skin that was certainly no hallucination. His heart tightened. Unless this Priestess of R'hllor was running a permanent fever of sixty degrees, there was no way she could carry such a startling draft of hot air just by walking. Was this some stage trick, or did the "God" she worshipped truly protect her with this warmth?
Bracing himself, the Night's Watchman waited for the priestess's next move or probe, mentally and physically prepared for any number of responses. But the situation suddenly veered in a direction no one in the room expected.
...
"Oh?" The Red Woman's face suddenly twisted into an expression of shock as she neared Egger. Under the greedy or awe-struck gazes of the men, she recoiled as if the Watchman had pricked her with a needle. She jumped back and shouted at the top of her lungs: "Guards! Come inside! Seize this heretic!"
Two fully armed Dragonstone guards burst into the room, their sharp spears leveled directly at the bewildered Egger.
What is happening?
This was the second time Egger had been arrested since his transmigration. The first time, he had faced peasants armed with pitchforks and hatchets; knowing he was in the wrong and powerless to resist, he had surrendered and been sent to the Wall. But this time? What had he done?
There was no time to think. A year of life as a ranger made his body react instinctively. He reached for his waist but found no hilt. He then remembered that the steel sword issued by the Night's Watch had been returned to the armory the day he left Castle Black. In King's Landing, there had been no need to carry a weapon.
"Don't move your hands!" one soldier barked, his face a mask of aggression as he thrust his spear forward.
Egger snapped back to reality. This was Dragonstone, and these were soldiers personally trained by Stannis. As a renowned warrior and commander, Stannis's men were far better trained than he was. One-on-one might be manageable, but one-against-two with a mysterious witch nearby was a losing game. Even if he were armed, resistance was futile.
The air seemed to freeze. The old miner and his son were jolted sober by fright, standing rooted to the spot. The owner of the house stood foolishly in the center of the room, clutching a chair he had intended for the priestess. The youth assigned by Stannis to guide Egger was utterly lost—he was a man of Dragonstone, but he had just been eating a meal bought by Egger. If the Watchman resisted, which side should he take?
...
"I surrender. But please, let me pay for the meal first." Egger remained frozen for a few seconds before his right hand moved toward his waist to untie his coin purse. He tossed it to the old miner. "Go back to the ship. Tell the captain I have business at the castle and to wait for me until noon tomorrow."
...
Egger had been denied entry to the gates of Dragonstone Castle that morning, but now he was being escorted in by armed guards. His lack of resistance caused Melisandre's tension to fade, and by the time the Watchman was securely bound to a pillar in her chambers, she finally let out a breath of relief.
Standing several meters away, Melisandre spoke in a flat tone: "Who sent you?"
Egger stared at her, his expression firm but his mind a jumble. He had hoodwinked the Starks, framed the Crown Prince, and lied to Tyrion Lannister to get him to back a Ponzi scheme... From certain angles, he was audaciously criminal. But he had absolutely never crossed Stannis Baratheon or harmed his interests, let alone offended the Lord of Light. As for "heresy"—to the Red God, isn't all of Westeros a land of heretics? Stannis wasn't even King yet; where did this woman get the gall to persecute non-believers?
"The Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, Jeor Mormont." Egger obviously wouldn't mention that Tyrion had paid his ransom, but even the truth shouldn't offend a follower of the Lord of Light. Did Melisandre know the Watch's situation so well that she was furious at him for fleeing the Others?
"Is that so? And why were you sent?"
Egger recounted his four missions truthfully, then suppressed his humiliation and anger to say: "Lady Melisandre, there must be a misunderstanding. This is the first time I have ever laid eyes on you..."
"It is indeed our first meeting. But I feel the powerful aura of the Great Other upon you. Who are you, truly?"
The Great Other? Egger swore he had no idea what that was. Was it the scent of ice magic he'd picked up while fighting the White Walkers, or was this charlatan sensing that he wasn't a native of this world?
He decided to play dumb. "My Lady, I truly do not understand what you are talking about."
"Perhaps you do not. But I have my ways of getting the information I seek." Melisandre gave a suggestive, ambiguous smile and turned to a guard. "Bring a brazier."
A brazier? Is she going to torture me?
Egger was filled with alarm and rage. He was always a man who planned ahead; he had envisioned how to save himself if his lies were seen through by the Starks, or if he were caught by Robert or Cersei. He had even rehearsed his lines. He never expected an accident while scouting an obsidian mine on Dragonstone. Heaven be his witness, he truly didn't know what he was supposed to confess to Melisandre. This bizarre turn of events was beyond his wit. Would he have to reveal his identity as a transmigrator when the red-hot iron began to hiss against his skin? Would she even believe him?
The brazier was soon brought in and placed a meter in front of him. It didn't contain the glowing branding irons he expected. Instead, the Red Woman produced a small knife from nowhere and handed it to the guard. "Go. Take some of this Crow's blood. Just a few drops. Not too much—I want him alive."
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