Chapter 53: Divination by Fire
The commanded Dragonstone guard, clutching a small knife shorter than his own palm, gave Egger an apologetic shrug before approaching him.
Bound at both his torso and limbs, Egger was helpless. He could only shift his body in a symbolic struggle as he watched the man draw near. His mind raced, yet he remained utterly clueless about what was unfolding. What kind of play was this? Did the blood of a transmigrator truly possess some potent power required by R'hllor, the Lord of Light? If that were the case, would he find himself tossed into the flames as a sacrifice at some critical moment?
He possessed a wealth of knowledge far exceeding anyone in this world; he had a grand design to slowly gain a foothold, build his own network of connections, and eventually use capital to intervene in the Game of Thrones; he had plans to alter a slew of future plot points and the very fate of this world... He had escaped the White Walkers and distanced himself from the Wall. He was just about to start a new life—was it all going to come to a confusing, grinding halt on this barren island at the mouth of Blackwater Bay?
...
Egger stared wide-eyed at the knife in the guard's hand. A few drops of blood weren't enough to make him wet his pants or beg for mercy, but the key was what would happen to him afterward. Like Tyrion, he prided himself on being a clever man, but against an opponent whose motives were unknown and who had suddenly displayed such hostility, he was at a loss.
"The arm. Easy does it, thanks!" Seeing the guard's hand trembling, Egger spoke up. Deciding where the wound would be was the last bit of dignity he could salvage from this turn of events.
"Right..."
The one wielding the blade was a young guard, not yet twenty. He had been but a child during the last war, and having served in Stannis's guard for nearly a year, this was the first time in his life he had used a weapon to draw blood from someone. Egger's instruction made him even more nervous. He used too little force, and the cut was shallow; it took several seconds for the crimson blood to slowly seep out.
The guard hurriedly scraped a few drops onto the back of the blade and rushed them to the priestess.
Melisandre produced a handkerchief, wiped the blade to soak up the blood, and then flicked the blood-stained cloth into the brazier, staring intently into the flames.
Egger's gaze also turned toward the fire—he saw nothing. His blood, of course, couldn't possibly have any power. The flames quickly consumed the handkerchief; aside from a momentary flare-up, the color and temperature barely changed.
But Melisandre's expression grew grave. Her eyes widened as if the answer to some ultimate question was hidden within the bright light of the fire, though the script was too small to read. She took a step forward, gripping the stand of the brazier, leaning closer, and closer still... she almost buried her face in the flames. Egger was shocked to see the tongues of fire licking her hair, yet failing to make even a single strand curl. This Priestess of the Lord of Light truly had some tricks—she was immune to fire!
About a minute later, the woman released the stand, stepped back from the brazier, and fixed the Night's Watchman with a look of intense interest. Her red lips parted once more.
She didn't get a chance to speak, however, as the door to the room was thrown open with a heavy thud, and a man walked in.
...
"You've seized the Night's Watchman?"
Silhouetted against the firelight, Egger couldn't see the newcomer's features clearly. But by instinct and the man's questioning tone, he guessed his identity. "Lord Stannis! I am here under the orders of Jeor Mormont to handle the obsidian mining. You should know this! I swear I've done nothing wrong on your island! If I have caused offense unintentionally, I ask your pardon! Can you release me so I can speak? I can face any confrontation with Lady Melisandre!"
"What is the meaning of this?" The man ignored Egger's shouting and asked Melisandre coldly. "The Night's Watch is here to mine obsidian; Lord Stark wrote to inform me of this, and I granted my consent. Who do you think you are, on my land, to order the seizure of a visitor who entered with my permission?"
"Do you remember the Great Others I told you of, my Lord?" The Red Woman gave the man a respectful nod, yet her face remained smiling. "I sensed a powerful aura of the Great Other upon this Watchman. I wished to know why that—or perhaps those—'Gods' sent him here."
"I don't care what you wish to know, Melisandre." Stannis's voice remained flat and emotionless. "You have some talent, so I allow you to stay on this island. But if you persist in speaking nonsense and committing such absurdities, perhaps I should send you away. Now, either release this Watchman and earn his forgiveness, or leave Dragonstone immediately!"
Egger relaxed instantly. Having escaped disaster, his mind went blank for several seconds. Then, behind his back, he silently clenched his hands into fists. Knowing the plot and possessing advanced knowledge and concepts became utterly meaningless at a moment like this. His fate, before these Great Lords, was merely a matter of a single sentence. The need to transform his advantages into tangible power and influence suddenly became incredibly urgent.
"As you wish, my Lord." Melisandre's eyes narrowed and her expression shifted before she bowed her head in submission. "Release him."
The guard, still clutching the knife, was equally confused. But since the Lord had spoken and the messenger of the Lord of Light had nodded, he didn't have to worry about whose orders to follow. He moved behind Egger and began to untie the ropes.
Stannis gave a cold snort, turned, and left the room.
...
Whether he was frightened by his Lord's recent anger or was simply clumsy by nature, the young guard spent several seconds fumbling without finding a way to undo the knots. Melisandre finally shook her head impatiently. "Go. I will do it."
Since ordering Egger's seizure, the witch had remained warily two meters away. Only now, certain he posed no threat, did she approach him. Amidst the wafting heat, she ran her hand along Egger's arm, brushing over the ropes.
Accompanying the slick sensation of her palm was a wave of stinging heat. The ropes binding his body snapped one after another with soft pops, and Egger regained his freedom.
He took a step to steady himself, stretched his arms, and touched the spots where he felt the stinging heat. Aside from a slight warmth, there were no burns on his skin. Looking at the severed ropes on the floor, the ends were charred black and still trailing wisps of smoke. She burned the ropes but didn't burn me? This single trick was something Egger couldn't explain with any of the knowledge in his head. Melisandre stood within arm's reach, appearing so delicate that he felt he could choke her with one hand, but Egger had to admit he likely couldn't best this woman.
"My apologies, brother in black." Melisandre's tone softened, though the lack of remorse on her face made the apology feel hollow. In her eyes, saying these words to a mortal was already a great courtesy; she would not be subservient. "It was the first time I felt such a powerful aura of an alien god outside my Lord R'hllor while off-guard. I was startled, which led to my improper conduct. Please forgive the grievance caused to our guest."
Egger didn't intend to forgive her just like that, nor did he intend to flee in disgrace. When a good-tempered man gets angry, it's no joke. Furthermore, more than senseless rage, he hated the feeling of being watched from the shadows by an enemy with unpredictable methods. He wanted to settle things tonight—if Melisandre couldn't give a reasonable explanation, then his blacklist might need a new category: Until Death Do Us Part.
Once he returned to King's Landing to begin raising supplies, recruiting new men, and starting his fundraising, the first thing he would do was find a way to kill this woman.
He even quickly thought of a method. Jaqen H'ghar was currently in the black cells of King's Landing. Yoren might even have already picked him as one of the new recruits for the Wall. As a follower of the Many-Faced God, that man would surely be unwilling to be taken to the Wall and sworn in... if Egger could release him, asking him to kill one person wouldn't be difficult. Egger was curious: what kind of sparks would fly when a follower of the Many-Faced God, who claimed anyone could be killed, went up against a mysterious Red Priestess?
"It would be easy for me to tell Lord Stannis that 'I have forgiven you,' my Lady." Egger took a deep breath. "But to be snatched up while enjoying a meal, tied to a pillar, and cut with a knife—if I don't know why I took that blade, I don't believe anyone could let that go. I need an explanation, Lady Melisandre."
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