At that moment, Nafas was shocked, but Hugh simply stopped, picked up the wine glass on the table, took a sip, and stared at him.
"Silverwing. Vermithor. Those two dragons are what you need. But Silverwing has a rider—Sara. That little girl, though a bastard, is a dragonrider and obeys the Blacks. Vermithor is a wild dragon, but he follows Silverwing; wherever Silverwing goes, he follows. So if you want to get these two dragons, you must deal with Sara first."
Nafas's face changed.
"How to deal with Sara?" Hugh continued. "Kill her? Then Silverwing becomes a riderless dragon. Which of you could tame her? No one. So you can't kill her. You must control her. Control her how? Through her newborn boy. As long as you control that child, Sara will have to obey you."
He set down his glass and looked at Nafas. "Am I right?"
Nafas was silent for a while, then slowly nodded. "Master Hugh is indeed clever."
"I'm not clever," Hugh shook his head. "I've seen these tricks too many times. You Volantenes are no different from those highborn wastes—making wishes, drawing pies, and letting others die for you."
Nafas's face changed completely.
Hugh looked at him and suddenly smiled. "Don't be nervous, Master Nafas. I didn't say no."
Nafas was stunned; then a smile reappeared on his face. "Master Hugh understands the greater good..."
"But I have conditions," Hugh interrupted.
"Name them."
Hugh raised three fingers. "First, I want Myr. Not as governor—as prince. Prince of Myr."
Nafas's smile froze.
Hugh continued. "Second, I want you, Volantis, to pay for an army. Three thousand men, fully equipped, under my command. Pay, grain, fodder, equipment—you cover everything."
Nafas's face began to twitch.
"Impossible!" Nafas blurted out.
Hugh looked at him and said nothing.
Nafas drew a deep breath and tried to calm himself. "Master Hugh, your terms... are too heavy. Myr was bought with Volantene blood. It cannot be given away so easily."
"I know," Hugh interrupted ruthlessly. "That's why I raised these terms."
He leaned back in his chair and toyed with the Valyrian sword they had given him. "Master Nafas, I know very well what you Volantenes want. You want dragons. You want to become a new dragonlord family. You want to restore the glory of the Valyrian Empire. For that, you would pay anything."
He paused and looked at Nafas. "Am I right?"
Nafas did not speak.
Hugh continued. "Can you get a dragon?" He wagged his finger at Nafas. "You cannot. You can only achieve your goals by controlling Sara. But Sara—that woman is not a fool. Will she listen to you?"
Hugh raised the sword and looked at the flowing patterns on the Valyrian blade. "But if it were me, things would be different."
Then Hugh lowered the sword and looked at Nafas. "Buy one, get two free—what a bargain, isn't it? My lord, you must know what risk I'm taking to betray the Blacks? Prince Lucerys was good to me. Queen Rhaenyra trusted me. The castle guards obey me. With a single order, I could take that child. But once I do, I become a traitor, a treacherous villain."
He leaned forward and looked into Nafas's eyes. "Tell me—is all this worth the Prince of Myr?"
Nafas was silent for a long time.
He remembered the words of his aunt Eluna: he must acquire Sara, then marry that bastard daughter... House Lanser needed dragons. Needed Silverwing and Vermithor. Only then could Volantis truly rise and become the master of the eastern continent.
As for Myr... what was Myr? Just a piece of territory. With dragons, House Lanser could have everything.
"Very well," Nafas finally spoke. "I promise you."
Hugh looked at him; a flicker of surprise crossed his eyes. "You agreed so quickly? You don't want to think about it?"
"I have thought about it," Nafas said. "Prince of Myr—I can promise you all that. But there is a precondition."
"Speak."
"You must do what you say. Control the child, make Sara obey you. Only then can we proceed with negotiations."
Hugh smiled. "Don't worry, I will do it. I am in charge of the castle's security; the guards are all my men. Taking the boy is easy."
He paused and looked at Nafas. "But first, you must give me a guarantee."
"What guarantee?"
"A blood oath."
Nafas's face changed.
A blood oath. The ancient Valyrian tradition—swearing by blood. It was said that those who broke the oath would suffer a blood curse, that they and their descendants would die badly. Of course, it was just a legend; no one had ever seen it. But for them, descendants of Valyria, it was still the most solemn and sacred oath.
"You are bold!" Nafas glared at him.
Hugh remained calm. "Master Nafas, it's not that I don't trust you. You swore to help the Blacks, and now you are betraying them. I truly don't trust your oath. What if you regret it after we succeed?"
Nafas drew a deep breath, trying to suppress his anger.
Myr—if I give it, I give it. As long as I can get those two dragons, Volantis can dominate the entire eastern continent. Then Braavos, Lys, and Pentos would be a pack of dogs. Restoring the glory of Valyria, I would become the founder of a new Valyrian Empire. What is a blood oath?
He slowly stood and drew the Valyrian sword from his belt. The sword was shorter than the one in Hugh's hand, but equally fine and sharp. An inscription was also carved on the blade—Lamentation.
He cut his finger with the sword; blood gushed out.
Then he silently wrote on the parchment, slowly speaking in Valyrian: "I, Nafas Lanser, swear by blood, with the gods as witness. If Hugh Hammer can control the son of Jacaerys and make Sara submit to him, I will fulfill my promise and make him Prince of Myr. If I disobey, may I and my descendants be cursed by blood and fire, and sink forever into damnation."
Drops of blood fell to the ground and seeped into the cracks of the slate.
Hugh watched this scene, a satisfied smile on his face.
He also stood, took the sword from Nafas's hand, cut his finger, and wrote his oath in blood: "I, Hugh Hammer, descendant of King Jaehaerys, swear by blood that I will control the son of Jacaerys and make Sara serve our purposes. If I break this oath, may dragonfire consume me, and may I have no place of burial."
They looked at each other and laughed together.
Nafas raised his glass. "Future Prince of Myr—let us drink."
Hugh also raised his glass. "My lord, cheers."
The wine went down their throats, and the smiles on both faces deepened.
But in their hearts, each was thinking something entirely different.
Prince of Myr? Who cares about that? The blood of King Jaehaerys flows in my veins. I am also a descendant of the Targaryens. As long as I control that child, Sara will have to obey me. When the time comes, Silverwing and Vermithor will be mine. With two dragons in hand, the Blacks and Greens will tear each other apart—that is my best chance to rise. Prince Lucerys? Forgive me—you raised me up, but you stand in my way. Then I will hold Prince Lucerys and Prince Daemon's two daughters hostage; the Blacks won't dare act rashly against me. When the Blacks and Greens have nearly destroyed each other, I will make my move... The Iron Throne—perhaps I can't compete for it...
Myr for you? Dream on. When this is done, once the dragons are under control, what use are you? Silverwing and Vermithor will belong to Volantis. I, Nafas Lanser, will marry Sara and become the founder of a new Valyrian Empire. House Lanser will become a new dragonlord family... As for the blood oath? That's just a legend.
Then they looked at each other and smiled, each with their own ghosts.
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