The Red Deer

The days of waiting for Stannis dragged by slowly, and they were brightened up, perhaps, only by talking with baby Shireen and Cressen. Melisandre, for some inexplicable reason, avoided my company. On the other hand, I was a little ashamed and embarrassed. He told the woman fairy tales and nonsense, succumbing to his... what? Childishness? A sense of self-importance from knowing fragments of the history of this world? I still didn't understand what it was. Maybe it's a natural result of the nervous tension of the last few days or something else. Of course, I didn't believe that I could keep my ambivalent violent nature from Melisandre's attention, but not to the same extent. Now it is unclear how she will continue to behave. How did I influence her and her subsequent actions? Could I have influenced her at all? Maybe she saw through me right away, like a kid making up fairy tales on the fly. Even so.

 But if you think about it, I wasn't talking such nonsense. Few locals pay attention to this, but for the peoples of Essos, the western continent and the people who inhabit it are a big mystery. For most of them, the Seven Kingdoms is a huge mysterious state, nominally under the rule of one man, the King. Westeros for Essos is like Russia for Europe in the Middle Ages or the Roman Empire for the inhabitants of the Far East, that is, a distant, vast and mysterious country where there are huge allotments and numerous armies under the rule of lords, and the condition of individual noble Houses is comparable to the wealth of entire states in the east.

 And what myths and legends there are about Sunset Kingdoms! About the widespread wearing of expensive iron armor, about huge fleets at individual Houses, about a large population, about a country where there is not a single unoccupied piece of land, about freedom and the absence of slavery, and, of course, about giants, mermaids, children of the forest, werewolves and Winter. Winter... but Westeros is the only continent where the winter season is raging, a phenomenon as mysterious and terrible as the plague. But all this concerns ordinary people, who rarely leave their cities, but sometimes even their neighborhoods, living on the same street all their lives. But the patrician, who is much more educated and knowledgeable, treats Westeros with disdain and hostility dictated by banal fear.

 It's hard to live as a magister in Volantis or any other city in Essos, knowing that all your wealth and all your power mean nothing compared to the same House of Lannister or Tyrell. Just the realization of how many ships and troops the Seven Kingdoms can deploy in the event of a real war between the West and the East drives the Eastern lords into despair. That is why they are ready, in case of a threat from Westeros to one of the cities, to support it with joint efforts, rejecting mutual strife. They all understand perfectly well that once the Sunset Kingdoms gain a foothold in the east, their expansion will be unstoppable. The East is afraid. He is afraid to attract the gaze and attention of the West. I suspect the East is unknowingly doing everything possible and impossible to keep the western continent stewing on its own. But, soon, this composition will inevitably be destroyed.

"Rage!" I see "Rage"! Shireen shouted joyfully, without looking up from the telescope, I feel like one restless girl will deprive me of this wonderful device.

 In recent days, my niece and I have developed a tradition of coming to the Wind Tower, made in the form of a screaming dragon, and watching the ships passing by, as well as the port, through a telescope. Meanwhile, taking the pipe from the girl, he made sure that Stannis was on his way. The long days of waiting are coming to an end.

***

On the topmost floor of the Dragonstone Dungeon (or, as it is also called, the Stone Drum, because of the sounds that sweep through the corridors during severe storms) there is a chamber with a painted table. A large round room with four tall pointed windows oriented towards parts of the world, in the center of which is a massive wooden table in the shape of Westeros, covered with dark lacquer.

 Stannis was already waiting for me, hands clasped behind his back and looking out the window that faced east. Besides Lord Dragonstone, there was a page boy in the hall, about Shireen's age, setting out a jug of wine, goblets, and a simple snack. I remember Davos' youngest son was Stannis' squire. What's his name? Devan, I think.

"Leave us," Stannis's voice was clipped and emotionless, however, as always.

 The boy hurriedly bowed and ran out of the hall without giving himself a proper look.

"Greetings, brother," he went around the table from the "South" to the owner of the castle, but Stannis just stood there and continued to stand, staring at the horizon, "well, you have a lot of hospitality.

"Save your jokes for your hookers and sycophants, Renly.

 Ignoring my brother's brief rebuke, I pushed back the chair that stood in the area of the "Storm's End", just not far from the jug of wine. He placed the package he had brought with him next to it and began pouring the wine.

"I should be wondering." What are you doing here? Stannis finally deigned to turn around, taking a chair in the Blackwater Bay.

"Surely you won't believe that I was driven by a desire to meet my niece?" – the wine turned out to be an unusual amber color and surprisingly light and tasty, which I have never tasted before.

"Of course not," Stannis also took a sip from his goblet, continuing to glare at me, "so what necessity prompted you to break away from the entertainment in the capital and show up at Dragonstone uninvited?"

"Can you expect it from you?"

"For what purpose?" To embarrass your family with your antics and jokes? Drunkenness and gluttony? – Stannis got carried away along the way, - do you think I haven't heard rumors about your amusements and your deeds? You're spoiled, selfish, and self-indulgent.…

 Stannis is not a bad person. Not at all. He didn't look much like his description in the book, much less in the TV series. The reality is more prosaic. A man with a difficult fate, which gave rise to a difficult character, but nothing more. He is tough and stubborn, stern and gloomy, with a strong sense of duty and justice, but he is not a fool. Under his command, the Royal Navy has grown into a large and formidable force, and this is not only due to the number of ships. Discipline. That's what sets the fleet under Stannis's command apart from any other fleet on this planet. Stannis, I repeat, is not a fool, which is why he understands perfectly well that it is very difficult to maintain discipline with a stick alone, and a carrot is needed. Regular salary payments, good supplies, fair division of spoils after anti–piracy raids and, in general, competent command led to a natural result - tens of thousands of sailors are ready to follow Stannis to the ends of the earth. To be honest, I was very surprised to hear the various rumors about my brother in the capital. About his stupidity, inertia and cruelty, about the desire to close all brothels (despite the fact that a huge share of the proceeds to the brothels come from the sailors of the Royal Navy, to whom Stannis regularly pays salaries, not allowing him to plunder), about the ban on drinking wine, about the ban on holidays and so on. But the truth is that Stannis doesn't care about saving anyone's soul from sin, but someone is purposefully and persistently spreading rumors about the master of ships, trying to arouse fear and hostility among the metropolitan public in front of the figure of Lord Dragonstone. Bottom line: they're afraid of him. They are afraid of his growing influence, they are afraid of his independence, they are afraid of his attention. Who! Members of the small council, noble houses, and the usual hangers-on and schemers at the royal court. This led to one unpleasant fact for Stannis – anyone who contacts him, trying to support him, or get his support, is subjected to public obstruction. Quiet, but relentless. That's why, unlike the lords of the Narrow Sea and Stormy Lands, the average Baratheon has no supporters and friends in the capital, they all survived and leveled. Even Jon Arryn is not particularly keen on strengthening Stannis' position at court, preferring to keep him at arm's length, or rather on a leash. Unsurprisingly, there is an ingrained opinion at the royal court that friendship with Stannis will bring nothing but problems. But I need his "friendship" and I need his support to carry out my plans. However, first you need to change your status in his eyes from a "younger brother" to a "colleague." It's going to be difficult.

"It's a little late for you to catch up with my upbringing, brother," Stannis broke off and fell silent, staring at me with unblinking eyes, "you and Robert abandoned me in Storm's End." All events have root causes, and all actions have consequences. So, what has grown out of me has grown, and it's not for you to teach me.

 A short pause could either escalate into a tense silence, or give Stannis the opportunity to continue to bend the line from where he started. Of course, this should not have been allowed.

- Don't think about it, - having given up, he broke the prolonged eye contact, - I don't blame anyone. Each of you has a duty, but sometimes it's hard to realize your former loneliness.

 Stannis looked away and shifted his position in the chair, leaning on the right armrest and massaging the bridge of his nose.

"I want to help."

"Help me?" There was steel in Stannis' voice again, "does it look like I need anyone's help?" Especially yours?

"There is a sighted king among the blind," I did not hold back my emotions either, having irritated the interlocutor, "you, me, the whole House of Baratheon needs help!" We're dying out!

 Once again, a clutch of intense, stubborn stares. Yes, Stannis, I have a temper too.

"Look," I waved my left hand towards the "West" of the table, leaning my right hand on the "Massey Hook", "The Lannisters and Tyrells are so numerous that only their relatives will be able to raise an army. They are strong and rich. What about us? How many of us are there? Robert, you, me, and baby Shireen. That's all the Baratheons are.

"You forgot about Robert's kids. Stannis– voice softened, and his gaze purposefully searched for something in the "North".

- Children, nurtured by lions, - the irony was oozing out of my mouth, - do you cherish illusions about which side they will take in the hour of truth? Humans are mortal and, to our horror, suddenly mortal. God forbid something happens to Robert tomorrow, and where will we end up? On the sidelines of history. Before we know it, we'll lose all our posts under the new king and go live out our days in our ancestral castles. This is still the best case scenario.

- And how will your flirtation with the vile class help our House? – he turned a questioning, demanding look at me, - do you want the Royal Navy to be at your beck and call, to carry goods and your hand dealers?

"Ser Davos acted wisely by telling you the information he knew, but you drew the wrong conclusions," he held his brother's gaze again and continued, "I would never offer you anything that would discredit your dignity and name. I offer fraternal mutual assistance. Who, if not us, should and must take care of the future of our Home? For Shireen's sake and her well-being. Just listen to me.

There was silence in the room. Stannis stared at the wall, thinking. I thought about it for a long time. I didn't rush him, waiting humbly for his verdict. If he refuses... well, okay, I'll go the other way. Would he agree? Great.

"Tell me." I was slightly startled by my brother's voice.

- Gold. We need a lot of gold. Our lands are not as rich and fertile as the West or the Expanse, therefore, we have fewer troops, and therefore less influence at court. But our lands have an unobvious advantage.

 He took a map from the bundle he had brought with him and spread it out in front of Stannis, who, in turn, began to examine it carefully. The map had a lot of my notes on it,

- Our location. I want to dig into the trade routes coming from the summer islands, getting the lion's share of the profits from them. There are enough raw materials and goods needed by the Letnians in the Stormlands, for which they will pay with spices, precious wood and gems. In the near future, I will send several test expeditions to the Summer Islands in order to properly assess the potential of future actions. I have several ships, but I don't have faith in their crews. All I dare ask of you is to help with the involvement of the ship's crews and your "non-interference" with the desire of individual captains to participate in these... events. If... ahem... when we succeed, the funds that we manage to earn will be enough not only for us, but also for our grandchildren. We will lay a solid foundation for the power of our House.

 I didn't even notice how messily I laid out my plans, leaning back in my chair and taking a couple of large sips of wine. It was easier than expected. After all, the beginning of the conversation was the hardest point.

"Is that why the Spirit and Lady Maria are in port?" Stannis studied the map carefully, asking the question without looking away from it.

- yes. The eldest sons of Ser Davos have come at my request, but they do not know the reason, and I did not offer them anything without your will.

 Stannis glanced at me briefly and, after a moment, returned his gaze to the map. A few minutes later, Stannis looked at me again, but there was no longer any disdain or annoyance in his gaze.

- Such actions will not remain without consequences. The Magisters of Volantis and the Triarchy will not allow themselves to be robbed. Stannis's voice, as well as his gaze, changed, becoming more... interested?

"We'll have a year, maybe two, before they realize the magnitude of the problem. By that time, I hope we will already be able to repel their attacks. But even if they come at us with all their might and knock us out of the Summer Islands, the money we can earn during this time will be enough for a long time. All efforts will pay off.

 Stannis stood up from the table, walking back to the window and folding his hands behind his back.

 Having understood the opaque hint of the end of the conversation, I finished my wine and left the hospitable company. Stannis is not the kind of person who will talk and shuffle, bargain or argue. You give him a suggestion, facts, prospects, he gives you a concise answer "Yes" or "No." I am satisfied with this form of communication.

***

Despite all the monumental gigantism of Dragonstone, knowing the points "A" and "B" of the route of the person you need, it is easy to catch him in any dark corner along the way, because there are not so many options for following him.

"Lady Melisandre!"

 The muscles of my face involuntarily contracted, forming a "sincerely" joyful smile. However, I was really glad to see her. During all these days, I only talked with my guys and with Cressen and Shireen, when the company of the other inhabitants of the castle did not cause me pleasant emotions. And here's a beautiful, hot woman with a mystical flair. Maybe it's the gloominess of the castle walls and the absence of really charming girls nearby, but I just want to destroy the equanimity of this flame with a passionate hickey and gusty breathing over her neat ear. Oh, I hope there's a redhead in Baelish's arsenal.

- How glad I am to see you! I thought it was a sinful thing that you were avoiding me.

 The red-haired beauty, clearly reading something in my eyes that she did not expect to see, lost her way a little, which is no wonder. After our conversation in the garden, she clearly identified me as her opponent, but how else could my words be perceived from her bell tower? Only as a threat. But the point is, I don't see her as a threat. Yes, she's devious, smart, and has some mystical powers, but her goals are the same as mine. Perhaps she herself has not yet realized what her goal is, namely to put Stannis on the throne, but it will definitely come to her mind. And even if I get rid of her one way or another, what guarantee is there that someone worse won't arrive instead? Melisandre, on the other hand, is understandable and more or less predictable to me, thanks to the "afterglow."

"Lord Renly! – the red priestess smiled with a certain superiority, as if she saw a petting puppy, - I have urgent obligations that cannot be postponed or rescheduled.

- Did you feed the flock? - I raised my elbow in a hint, and Melisandre, without a second's hesitation, put her elegant hand in, following me, – Quite successfully, I want to note. Half of the locals are looking into your mouth, hanging on your every word. Really, you are magnificent.

 Melisandre smiled again. I'm sure she wanted to be condescending, but now her face let her down, and her smile came out a little confused. I, having acquired a pompous look, continued.

- I am ashamed in front of you, my lady, - having regained control of her face, the priestess lost control again, shooting her eyebrows in surprise, - and I say this sincerely. My words were rude and undignified. And they were motivated by fear, my lady.

 We stopped. Turning his head, he glared at the glowing red eyes in a focused face that had discarded all masks.

- Do you understand what kind of fear it is?

Melisandre studied my face for a moment before answering.

"Yes, I understand," the priestess replied, without letting any seductive and charming notes enter her voice, however, without spoiling its sweetness in the least, "You are afraid for your niece."

 He nodded gently, and we continued on our way, plunged into silence. After crossing one large and well-lit corridor (however, its main feature was that it was well-bugged), we turned into a simpler corridor. Being halfway from my chambers, I decided to end our conversation.

"I have no prejudice against you or your faith, my lady. Just as I am deeply convinced that every adult decides for himself how to live, how to die, and which God to honor. Everyone decides for themselves whether they are ready for the challenges that will await them on this or that life path. Selisa, her cousin and many others have made their choice, and I respect it, but Shireen..." We stopped at the intersection again, our paths diverge, unfortunately, at this point. – Shireen is the future of our House, and for the future of my family, I will wage a war of annihilation, according to the will of My Own or your God. Which is not essential. Convert, nurture, teach, and enlighten men and women, but Shireen must be above all that. Be safe and calm. As far away as possible from fanatics who are unable to separate the will of their god and the will of his priests.

 We fell silent, looking at each other, studying each other.

"I was wrong about you, my lord," Melisandre's grandiloquent voice broke the ringing silence that had arisen between us, "the young lady is not in danger in this place.

"Swear by R'hllor." My voice was no longer so sweet and courteous, it rang with Baratheonic metal.

"I'm…

 The priestess's voice faltered, as if deflated. Melisandre closed her eyes. We stood there for a few minutes. Something told me that it was not worth breaking this pause now, as well as jumping to conclusions about the priestess' thoughts. I didn't lose it. When someone else's eyes opened, I was faced with flaming eyes staring straight into my soul.

"I swear by the will of the Lord of Light that Shireen of House Baratheon will not be threatened by his flock. Not here, not anywhere else.

 Her voice sounded hollow and distant, as if it wasn't her who was speaking. Melisandre shuddered and looked at me with barely concealed shock, but as soon as our eyes crossed, she quickly averted her gaze. She tried to hide her fear. Silently removing her hand from my elbow, she walked away from me. But, as they say, the forge is still being forged.

"Lady Melisandre!" The priestess froze, but did not turn around. "If Shireen happens to visit her uncle in King's Landing, I will be deeply indebted to you.

 Melisandre turned her head slightly and nodded weakly before rushing out of my company. Left alone again, I sighed heavily and continued my way to my chambers, asking myself two eternal male questions, namely: "what was that?" and "when will they start seducing me?".

***

Whether Stannis made a decision in the same hour after our conversation, or whether he thought about it all night, it doesn't matter. It's important that Stannis said yes this morning. The Royal Navy supports me and my people with infrastructure, crews, and interested captains who own their own ships, of course, but all costs and responsibility for them will be on my shoulders, and in the event of war, they will all return to Stannis' control.

 I must admit that at that moment I wanted to shout joyfully and strangle the owner of the Dragonstone in my arms, but Stannis apparently felt something like that and warned me against making a mistake with just one look.

 Without putting it off for long, he took Davos, who had been as quiet as he could, under his white arms and set off for the port. Getting to know Seaworth's eldest sons, who had already been waiting for my visit, had been postponed for too long.

 Dale and Allard Seaworth, the eldest sons born back in the smuggler's family. Dale, the heir to Davos, was not handsome, big and massive, but with charisma and, importantly, character. Strong-willed and tough, not inclined to ill-considered actions, who remembers life in Flea Bottom well, with short dark hair and a shaved face, as tall as me. Allard, in turn, was the complete opposite of his brother, dry and graceful, with sly eyes and a dapper beard and medium-length hair, but just as dark. He wears a lot of flashy jewelry and expensive fabrics, and in general he is quite cute, but this does not negate the fact that, despite his adventurous nature, Allard is considered a successful and experienced captain and a dangerous opponent. But, most importantly, both brothers have visited the Summer Islands more than once. Although the Spirit and Lady Maria are inferior in size to their father's galley, they also have excellent seaworthiness and advanced sailing armament.

 It was decided to hold the meeting in the cabin of the Black Beta, where we were joined by another son of Davos, who is also the captain's assistant, Mattos. No longer a young man, he was collected and attentive, with a short crew cut and light stubble. I've already met him.

- Gentlemen, I am glad to make our long-awaited acquaintance. – It took me a while to greet the audience, lost in my thoughts and remembering that Stannis had promised me a squire... I should remind him.

 We sat at the captain's table, where a bottle of wine, dried meat and cheese were displayed.

"We are honored, my Lord." - Dale politely replied to my greeting.

 Mattos poured wine into cups, drank to our acquaintance, and had a snack. In general, it was a classic, after which I pulled out a card from my bosom and started broadcasting.

- Gentlemen, I'll be brief. I need desperate captains who can lead an archival expedition to the Summer Islands! – I didn't start weaving verbal lace, but immediately started talking about business, - officially the purpose of the expedition is a diplomatic mission, the real one is intelligence.

"Intelligence?" Allard leaned his elbows on the table, completely absorbed in my words.

- Exactly! I am interested in the economic potential of the archipelago's states, the number of warriors and ships, ports, harbors, currents, shoals, where goods and resources are, who is friends with whom, who is at odds with whom, how strong and influential the local lords are. That's it! I need to know everything!

 While the Seaworths digested my words, I took a few sips of wine.

- At the same time, the expedition will have trade goals. The ships will be packed with goods and gifts to the local lords, but they will be managed by competent people.

"What will be our role, my lord?" Davos' eldest son seized on the main point.

- Bring the ships from King's Landing to the Summer Islands and back, safe and sound.

- The composition of the expedition? – apparently, Dale and Allard decided to ask me questions one at a time.

"The Spirit, the Lady Maria, a galleon, and two carracks.

 Ships are a very sensitive issue. As it turned out, in reality, the Lord of Storm's End's fleet was somewhat different from the list. This has never happened before, and here it is again! Most of the ships have long since rotted away in storage in the sheds of the Mourner. With the help of "cannibalism", only two carracks were restored and put into operation. That's why I needed an extra galleon.

- If you have in mind a captain with a good ship and crew who can be trusted, then you can suggest candidates. – Completed the thought.

- Who will lead the expedition? – the foreman asked the question again.

"You," I looked directly at Dale, "but only as far as the leadership of the fleet is concerned. All matters related to diplomacy and trade will be supervised by my trusted person.

 Dale nodded understandingly, and I continued.

- When you return, I will immediately start forming new expeditions. You will lead one again, Dale, and you, Allard. – the eyes of the second son lit up with enthusiasm, - I plan to regularly send flotillas to the Summer Islands, the number of ships will steadily increase. As for the reward, you will receive a percentage of the completed transactions.

 But after these words, all the Seaworths' eyes widened and flashed. They are experienced and knowledgeable people, they can imagine what a heft looms here.

"My Lord! We will not let you down! Allard exclaimed, jumping to his feet without even trying to "think." Such offers are not refused.

- I have no doubt about it, - he smiled gently at the family, - otherwise I would not be here.

"But," Dale coughed slightly, drawing attention, "Lord Stannis."…

 There was tension in the cabin, which I was glad to break.

- Don't worry about it, I've arranged everything. Now let's discuss the details.…

 We talked for a long time. I have given the contacts of the people the brothers will have to contact as soon as they arrive in the capital to cooperate with the Seven. We also discussed the timing, the brothers know several sea currents located around the Summer Islands, and they assured me that if you sail back and forth without long stops in the archipelago, then the same "Spirit" can turn around in a month. The squadron, of course, will take longer, plus there are still things on the islands. We have come to the conclusion that the minimum duration of the expedition will be at least two months, which suits me perfectly. We touched upon logistics in detail: where, to where, from where. Who can be attracted and who can't. Risks and opportunities. The captains bombarded me with questions until they were completely exhausted. It was late in the evening when I left them, tired but inspired. It's always a pleasure to deal with professionals.

"Thank you, my Lord,– Davos and I took frequent breaks as we ascended to the Dragonstone, "for doing such an honor to my family.

 Davos looked confused and a little taken aback, he couldn't even imagine the scope of my plans.

"Leave it, Ser Davos," I involuntarily looked around the harbor of the castle port, until I directed a wandering gaze at the sky, where the stars were already sparkling with might and main, "it is my duty as a suzerain to take care of my vassals. If we succeed, your sons will become rich and, I hope, invest these funds in their young Home, simultaneously creating several relatives. And decades later, my children and grandchildren will rely on the Homes of your numerous descendants, who, in turn, will remember to whom they owe their position.

 Smiling sadly, I looked at Davos, whose expression is difficult to see in the twilight.

"I'm sorry, Ser Davos, for such a consumerist attitude.

"My Lord," the Onion Knight's voice made it clear that he was smiling, "the Seaworth House will be devoted to you even without mountains of gold.

"I know, my friend," I smiled openly and fervently, "but there is always a bag of potatoes and onions in my house for loyal vassals...

 Loud laughter crashed down on the volcanic rocks, drowning out the sound of the tide for a moment.