Chapter 49

"Are you looking for me?" Davos asked.

"Who else would it be?" The drenched guard was clearly in a foul mood, but aside from the resentful cursing he had just let out, he showed no other aggressive behavior.

"What happened?" He hoped it wasn't bad news about the Stark girl.

In the hall, the guard took off his wool jacket and the cotton shirt underneath, baring his upper body, and wrung the rainwater out right in front of him. More water pooled on the muddy floor of the hall.

"How the hell would I know? The Count told me to bring you back!"

It would be best to determine if it was "bring" or "invite." They hadn't laid hands on him, so Davos guessed it was likely an invitation.

He saw that everyone in the hall had turned their gaze toward them. This was certainly not the place to talk, but some questions had to be asked.

"Why, how could it be so urgent?"

"Damn it, do you think I didn't ask the Count?" He walked over to the burning fireplace, pulled off his roasting clothes, threw them to a servant nearby, signaled for the people warming themselves to leave, and then hung up the two thin garments he had taken off.

After doing this, he began to take off his boots, which were also filled with water; he picked them up and poured all the water into an empty wine jar nearby. He tossed his two wrung-out wool socks onto the pile of firewood.

"What does the Count mean?" Davos asked, feeling like a fool.

"Would the Count tell me your secrets?" He began to take off his wool trousers.

Davos was truly worried he would wring out his trousers in the hall, so he hurried to the other side, handed over two silver stags, and signaled the servant to bring warmed strong wine and two sets of dry robes and boots.

Getting information in advance was a good opportunity.

"Damn it, don't think I don't know how many gold dragons you have!" He stared with a fierce look at the scene that had just unfolded. His messy, straw-like hair was rubbed into a complete mess.

He had searched Davos before and found the coin purse, as well as the letter of authorization.

Davos clearly felt more eyes beginning to stare at him.

Did this captain of the guard want him to die here?

The captain lowered his head and silently dealt with his wet clothes.

Davos could only stare at him.

Judging by his exposed body, he was already qualified to be the Count's captain of the guard.

The servant brought him a hot towel at this moment; he pulled it over casually and then shouted at the servant, "Didn't you see that two of us arrived?"

The servant hurriedly agreed and ran off as if flying.

Davos could only stand by in silence, watching him treat the hall like a bathtub.

When the servant delivered the warmed wine, Davos felt the time had come to speak.

"My lord, has something happened to the girl?"

Only after downing a cup did he slowly remember to answer Davos's question, "The girl is staying perfectly well in the castle; what could possibly happen to her?"

The customers and onlookers in the hall soon treated them as insignificant people again and began talking among themselves, but Davos clearly felt the surrounding noise getting quieter. In a town, for a merchant, the captain of the guard responsible for public security and the Count's personal affairs was always a person of great importance.

When they had dried their clothes by the fireplace and finished two pots of hot wine, Davos finally couldn't hold back.

"Captain Weiri, shall we set off and return to the Count's castle now?" Davos felt that waiting for them to dry their clothes before suggesting departure was the limit of his patience.

"You? Why do you need to go?" he asked.

Davos was confused and looked at the other guard, who revealed a meaningful smile.

Was this a prank?

"Didn't you say so?"

"Oh, I remembered wrong. The Count told me to bring you a letter; he said the letter contains evil content and is very important to you."

"What letter?"

He had another soldier search through the clothes; that soldier lazily flipped through the already-searched garments over and over, truly not looking like he was searching seriously.

Ser Gander left his seat, snuck over to Davos's side, stuffed the coin purse into his hand, and then limped away along the spiral staircase.

Davos was silent; after putting the coin purse into his pocket, he felt around slowly, and after confirming there were the necessary coins, he stuffed two of them into Captain Weiri's hand, hoping to end this farce.

"The pink letter." He smiled broadly at the soldier.

"So that's it!" the other replied with a grin.

Davos quickly grabbed the kraft paper bag, picked off the mouth sealed with beeswax, and pulled out the rolled-up parchment inside along with the newly attached endorsement.

Davos glanced at them and held up the parchment, "Why is it called the pink letter?"

"The Count can call it whatever letter he wants." The captain ordered another pot of red wine from the servant.

Davos added roasted pig's trotters, roasted onions, and several plates of sauce-braised beef for them before hurrying back to the second floor.

He unlocked the door, closed it, lit the lamp, and stared at the Count's letter in the dim light.

"Sansa Stark is located on Sweetsister; after the storm stops, she will return to White Harbor." This was the first sentence of the letter.

"Capture her." These were the words that followed.

The content of the letter was very simple, and he recognized every word. He saw the signature, "Warden of the North, Duke of the Dreadfort, Roose Bolton." A small pink flayed man seal was stamped over the signature.

Of course, this was the pink letter.

Why would Roose Bolton's letter be sent to Count Borrell?

Davos looked at Count Borrell's endorsement below with suspicion.

"The raven belongs to Sisterton, but it accidentally landed here. It seems there is a traitor in your team, Ser Davos." Davos imagined the way Count Borrell spoke and continued reading.

"I burned that lost, stupid raven that could cross the storm; it stank to high heaven when it burned. I do not allow filthy creatures to linger in my castle. Sansa Stark is my gift to the Wolf Girl and also my guest; Aleandro shouldn't even think about taking her away."

Aleandro was the Count of Sisterton, and the House Torrent ruled Sisterton. When the Wolf Girl was returning to the North, his son colluded with pirates to rob her and was hanged by the Wolf Girl on the rocky reefs of Sisterton; Count Torrent had sufficient reason to retaliate.

He had to call Ser Gander to go to the third floor to find the Red Priestess; this situation made it seem like she was the leader of this team. In reality, her room was the best and largest, and most suitable for meetings, but Davos was too embarrassed to kick a woman out of her room.

This time her door was closed.

Davos had no choice but to go up and knock. He knocked for a while, but there was no response; he had to shout while knocking.

"My lady! It's me!"

"I heard you, Ser Davos," a voice came from inside.

Davos and Ser Gander had to wait outside.

It took a while for the door to open again.

"You look rather formal; what information did you get from downstairs?" she asked.

"This." He signaled Ser Gander to hand over the letter.

She took the letter slowly, finished reading it quickly, and again revealed that indifferent look.

"Truly a stupid priest," she laughed, "creating a storm and then trying to cross it."

"Is there a problem?"

"I told you, he is too arrogant. Magic influences other magic. His skill is not yet sufficient, yet he uses it recklessly and thinks he is clever."

She stuffed the letter back to Ser Gander.

"His own magic will also influence each other?"

"Ser, have you started to become interested in learning magic?" She opened the window. Ser Gander was already prepared to be swept away by the gale, but he lowered his arms, and nothing happened.

Light entered, and the room was much brighter.

Davos looked through the window and saw that the black storm had turned gray; the storm had actually slowly weakened.

"Of course it will influence each other, Ser Davos," she left the window and stood by the fireplace again, "but not this time."

Her room was just a simple bed, but there were no signs that the bed had been moved at all. Davos guessed she had sat in the chair by the fireplace all night long, staring at the flames in the fireplace.

"Then what is it?"

"He was influenced by other mysterious figures. Since the Count burned that raven, he will know soon."

The flames danced in her eyes.

"That priest? It doesn't matter, as long as Count Torrent doesn't know. We can..." He glanced out the window, "We can set off for White Harbor right now."

"Our original plan has already been broken by this cruel little priest; what we face ahead is hard to predict..." She actually had the face to call others cruel.

"Isn't that better?" Davos hated predictions, prophecies, and the clues in the fire.

"Ser Davos, my lady, Sweetsister is very close to White Harbor; as long as we leave quickly, there will definitely be no trouble," Ser Gander said.

Ser Davos truly hoped the facts were as he said.

Ser Gander was a resilient man who had spent most of his life doing odd jobs in King's Landing until he was chosen by Dontos. He had only been exposed to these mysterious and sinister things for a short time, and Davos didn't know how much torture and suffering he had to endure.

He had already fully proven his loyalty and reliability on the ship to Dragonstone, and Davos was willing to believe him.

Davos couldn't help but look at him twice more.

Compared to Davos, he looked more like a knight who had been knighted for many years; at least, even trapped in an inn, he still maintained daily shaving and combing his hair. Disciplined people can always gain trust.

"Ser Davos, don't forget our goal," she said, "We are going to Winterfell to establish an alliance or a marriage contract, not to send Sansa Stark home."

"If we don't send the girl home, why would the Starks..." He realized he only needed to inform them that Sansa was on Sweetsister, "Is there still danger on the sea?"

"Have you forgotten? Sansa has already become Count Borrell's gift. Sansa has sworn an oath, and you have promised as well," she replied.

"His goal is nothing more than to increase trade volume. If the Wolf Girl agrees to him, he won't care if this favor is his or not. What's more, anyone with eyes can see that it was us who brought her home from Dragonstone."

"It was Ser Dontos who brought her back. We came with a purpose; why imagine ourselves to be more noble than Count Borrell?"

How could it be the same? Davos didn't agree.

Count Borrell was a pure opportunist. He was grateful for his hospitality over the past ten days, but he hated his coercion.

"Besides, there is always danger on the sea," she added.

Davos knew there was danger on the sea, but hearing it from the Red Priestess's mouth, he felt the atmosphere become eerie and terrifying.

"What danger?"

"The long night is dark, and there are dangers everywhere," she said.

Davos lost his patience.

"If this is the danger you speak of," Davos felt there was no need to communicate with her anymore, "I will take the Count's 'Joyful Midwife' with Sansa Stark to White Harbor, and you, my lady, and Ser Gander will follow on the 'Thunder'."

He made his decision.

Davos took out the hand-shaped badge and the King's letter of commission and handed them to Ser Gander.

"Someone must complete the task entrusted by the King, and someone must protect the innocent girl. If that girl is truly in danger, I must be by her side. And you must complete the mission for me."

Ser Gander was confused and shocked.

"If something happens to the Stark girl, it must be proven that King Stannis has fulfilled his duty of protection." With the life of his Hand.