GOT: The Great — Chapter 220 - Stubborn Mule — The Conversation

The ships arrived in the afternoon.

Drogo stood at the window of Stone Drum Tower, watching three vessels dock one after another in Dragonstone's harbor.

The first sat deep in the water, deck stacked with cargo crates holding grain and silver collected from the Riverlands.

The other two were escort ships. Old hulls, iron bars nailed across the gunwales, holding thirty-odd prisoners brought from Rosby. Most were Rosby folk. A few were deserters and captives taken in the Riverlands.

Edmure Tully came down the gangplank of the first ship.

He wore a blue-and-red striped coat, the cuffs worn pale at the edges, a fresh ring of beard stubble around his chin.

His wife followed, stepping onto the gangplank with careful feet.

Drogo had sent Unsullied to receive them and guide them toward Sea Dragon Tower.

Strong Belwas came pounding up from the dock.

His bald head caught the afternoon light, and his boots hammered the steps as he climbed, THUD, THUD, THUD, not stopping until he hit the second floor of Stone Drum Tower.

"Khal," he said. "Ships are here. We leave today?"

Drogo turned around.

"The plan has changed. I'm not sending you to Storm's End."

Belwas's brows pulled together.

"I'll bring Daenerys Targaryen and my wives back to Dragonstone myself. Edmure Tully stays on the island." Drogo said. "You and your two brothers keep guarding Nimiz. Once Daenerys Targaryen is back, you go back to protecting her."

Belwas nodded his big head. "Good. Storm's End is too easy to besiege. The little queen is better off here on the island."

Down at the dock, the second ship's gangplank had come down. The Free Army marched the prisoners off in two columns toward the prison beneath Sea Dragon Tower.

Iron chains on their wrists. Every step CLANKED and RATTLED.

Euron Greyjoy sat beside Drogo.

His chair had been pulled close to the window, and the light outside fell across his one good blue eye.

His right hand was still wrapped in gauze. Both feet rested on a footstool, the bandages around his ankles stained through with a faint yellowish seep.

He wore that suit of Valyrian steel armor, pauldrons slumping two inches off his shoulders as always.

Jonina Beeyon stood beside him, arms folded across her chest.

"The ships are here." The Crow's Eye lifted his left hand and pointed at the escort vessel below. "Prisoners too. Give me one good warship and I'll take them to Valyria."

"Your wounds haven't healed." Jonina's voice was quiet. "Your right hand has no skin. Both foot tendons are severed. You can't even stand."

"The voyage to Valyria is long." The Crow's Eye rested his left hand on his knee and looked down at his bandaged right. "The wounds will heal on the way. By the time we reach Valyria, I'll be able to stand with a cane."

"You're rushing to sail because you want to get as far from Dragonstone as possible." Jonina kept her gaze on his blue eye. "You can escape more easily at sea than on this island."

"My foot tendons are severed. Where exactly would I escape to?"

"You can swim without tendons. Ironborn are more at home in the water than on land."

The Crow's Eye smiled. "You give me too much credit."

"A man like you — as long as you're still breathing, you'll find a way to turn the tables."

Drogo turned from the window. "The voyage to Valyria does take time. I'll give you two sound warships, load the prisoners, and you leave now."

Jonina turned to face Drogo. "I've already said it. I'm not leaving until the next red priest arrives. Until that priest is here, I don't board any ship."

"I'm not sitting here waiting." Drogo said.

"Before the new priest arrives, I'm not going to idle away on Dragonstone. I'll ride my dragon and hit my enemies."

"I'll fly to meet with my commanders and nail down the details of the attack on King's Landing."

"You can't keep up with me — same as my bloodriders. You might as well go to Valyria early and dig up treasure for me."

"I can ride your dragon." Jonina said.

Drogo looked at her. "Don't be foolish. My dragon doesn't let anyone near it."

Jonina was a stubborn mule. She folded her arms right back across her chest.

"Either way, I'm not boarding that ship. If you need Valyrian steel in a hurry, send the Crow's Eye ahead without me."

"You can't ride a dragon. You can't keep up with me. You won't board a ship. So what exactly are you going to do sitting on Dragonstone? Help Nimiz run patrols?"

"That's not the worst idea. I can fight. Who says a woman can't match a man?" Jonina lifted her chin. "And if I'm not on the ship, who's going to watch the Crow's Eye for you? The moment he's at sea, he turns the ship around and your prisoners and your steel are all his."

The Crow's Eye tilted his head and looked her up and down with that blue eye. "If you weren't wearing women's clothing, no one would take you for a woman."

Drogo stopped arguing with her. "Fine. Stay. When the priest Thoros sends arrives, then you go."

The Crow's Eye sat up. "Winter is coming. Let me sail. I swear I can bring back tons of steel to help you fight the White Walkers. I swear it — I have no desire to see the dead win."

"You think I'd believe that?"

"Besides this ugly neither-man-nor-woman standing there, you have a whole shipful of warriors watching me. I'm a cripple now. What is there left to fear?"

"Even as a cripple, you're stronger than most." Drogo said.

"Keep belittling me and I might just have my way with you." Jonina stepped forward. The shadow of her shoulders fell over the Crow's Eye entire. "It's not as if there's much left of your manhood anyway. Hard to make things worse."

The Crow's Eye didn't pull back. His blue lips curled up. "You'd have to pin me down first. My foot tendons are gone, but I still have hands. You might not be able to hold me."

"I'm no delicate flower. I have strength enough, and means." Jonina clenched her fist. It was twice the size of an ordinary person's.

"Enough." Drogo said.

"Thoros's second priest is already on the way. Once he reaches Dragonstone and you've handed things over, you go to Valyria and catch up to the Crow's Eye's ship."

Jonina unclenched her fist. "Who is this priest?"

"I don't know. Thoros didn't say."

"What if he's useless? What if he can't see so much as a candle in the flames?" Jonina pulled her braid off her shoulder and gripped it in her fist. "I've waited all this time and I end up with a fool."

"If he's useless, I'll send him to the Valyrian peninsula in your place."

Drogo had run out of patience. "I've seen prettier sows than you."

He turned and walked to the door.

He was nearly through it when Jonina called out behind him.

"Khal."

Drogo didn't stop. He went down the stone steps, one after another, boots striking stone, THUD, THUD, THUD.

Outside the tower, Drogon lay sprawled across the black volcanic rock, wings folded against his body, chin resting on a stone.

He heard Drogo's footsteps and raised his head. The gray-white sky reflected in his slit pupils.

Drogo stepped into the stirrup and swung onto his back.

➤ Next: The Sharp Tongue of Jaime Lannister