Chapter 51

Diefus and the captain walked to the street near the harbor, where they saw dozens of fishing boats leaving the harbor while others had already sailed out to sea; the Thunder Roar lay unharmed at its berth, and on the other side there was a large sailing ship flying the Blood Wolf Flag, its hull somewhat damaged by the storm, with crew members rowing small boats around it to inspect the damage.

Translation: Diefusi and the captain walked to the street near the harbor, seeing dozens of fishing boats leaving the harbor, others already sailing out to sea, the Thunder Roar lay unharmed at its berth, and on the other side there was a large sailing ship flying the Blood Wolf Flag, its hull battered by the storm, crew rowing small boats around it to inspect the damage.

We need to ensure we keep all info: Diefus and the captain walked to the street near the harbor, saw dozens of fishing boats leaving the harbor while others had already sailed out to sea, the Thunder Roar lay unharmed at its berth, and on the other side there was a large sailing ship flying the Blood Wolf Flag, its hull battered by the storm, with crew members rowing small boats around it to inspect the damage.

We'll produce a concise but complete translation.

This one is all right; some smaller boats were blown over completely, lying on their sides next to the pier, while waves repeatedly slammed the deck, a sight too horrible to behold.

Translation: This one is considered good. Some smaller boats were blown over directly, lying sideways next to the pier, waves repeatedly hitting the decks, a horrible sight.

Looking at the blood-red wolf-head flag flying high on the sailboat, Davos thought perhaps he could ask the earl to send the Stark girl to the she-wolf's ship, letting Stark himself be responsible for her safety.

Thinking of the purpose of his journey, he discarded that idea.

"If the islanders don't go out to sea, they'll starve to death." The captain watched the departing fishing boats, "The storm has lasted so many days, who knows how many are starving. Drowned, frozen, crushed—there are plenty more, and a pile of corpses lies before the earl's castle; I hope by the time we arrive, the guards have already thrown them all away."

"An evil storm." Davos said.

"Damn right, isn't it?" He pursed his lips, thought a moment, then carefully and somewhat ingratiatingly asked Davos, as if Davos might not answer, "Did the earl tell you about that crow?"

Davos nodded.

"I swear, I've never seen such a mad crow, nor imagined that a burning crow could taste so damned foul." The captain made a disgusted face.

"That crow's eyes are red; no bird could be madder, nor any bird more prone to bite." He turned his head, leaned toward Davos, "The earl believes Earl Torrent consorted with an evil sorcerer."

"Why?" Davos puzzled, the letter was from Bolton.

"Hatred." He said fiercely, "Hatred for the she-wolf."

"If you say that, the she-wolf really shouldn't have kept Earl Torrent."

"She made a promise, and besides, she had no need to kill him outright. The three families of White Harbor and Maiden's Isle have monopolized the porcelain trade abroad; Torrent will eventually grow bored and raid his own kin in the islands, and when he does, his doom will come."

"He could choose not to raid."

"Not raiding, relying on smuggling and trade? Perhaps, but if he does that, the gap between him and the other families will only widen. The external trade of the Three Sisters Islands essentially depends on the North, White Harbor, and now also Winterfell; he has no chance."

"Marquis Sunderland originally wanted to monopolize Long Sister Island, waiting for his own mother to die so he could take it over. Now it's fine."

"What does that have to do with his mother?"

"Hey, you're not an islander, so of course you wouldn't know. The marquis's mother comes from the House of Rongduo, still alive and well; you say, how could he, in front of his mother, drive out her family? Though we are smugglers and pirates, we still observe etiquette, just as the earl welcomed you—that bowl worth more than gold, I've never used it."

"Are these all your ideas?" Davos asked.

"Hey, some I heard, but most I came up with myself," he chuckled, sounding quite pleased, "The Earl of Rongduo has only one daughter and one son; as long as Marquis Sunderland kills that son and has his heir marry the Rongduo's eldest daughter, the goal is achieved."

"But everyone's eyes are on him; he wants to kill openly, but he can't—at least not while his mother lives. But now the situation has changed."

"Because of Torrent?"

"Exactly, the Torrent family has declined because of the she-wolf," he exclaimed, "Marquis Sunderland won't stanch their bleeding; he's now like a hungry shark, smelling blood and getting excited—maybe he's just, uh, waiting for the chance, waiting to move in and take a fierce bite."

He waved his fist, as if that were the shark's gaping maw.

"Torrent doesn't know?"

"How could he not know? So Earl Torrent will surely collude with outsiders to resist the marquis's pressure—hey, he'll also want to taste the bitterness of House Rongduo."

"He now has only a daughter; originally, if our earl had a son, he'd surely send his daughter over to ally against Sunderland. Too bad our earl also has only a daughter, so now he's waiting for Sunderland to come propose for one of his sons."

"Will Marquis Sunderland tolerate Torrent consorting with outsiders?" Everyone knows the Three Sisters Islands reject outsiders.

"They'll probably just indulge, you don't know? The best way to get rid of a wife is to willingly wear a green hat."

He pursed his lips again, seeming dissatisfied with his own example, thought a bit, and Davos felt he was talking to himself, "Perhaps Torrent's attack on the she-wolf's fleet was instigated by Sunderland."

Davos's last visit to the Three Sisters Islands was many years ago; he never dreamed the islands still held so many stories.

"You said earlier that part of Earl Torrent's pirate fleet escaped—what's that about?"

"Oh, the escaping pirate fleet had the earl's young son on it, named Barron. After the she-wolf slew his brother, he feared he'd meet the same fate and dared not return to the island."

"Later, he simply took the smugglers south to the Stone Stair Islands and turned pirate. Now he's been outlawed by the Iron Throne, so, Earl Torrent should be the one who most hopes Bolton wins the North."

"Just to vent?" Davos felt like an idiot in front of the captain.

"So the Iron Throne will lift the outlawry on his son," the captain glanced at Davos, "the outlawry also comes courtesy of your king—if Stannis were willing to lift it, maybe he could win Maiden's Isle."

"Then, the next day you'll see Sunderland's three-headed flag planted on Little Sister's City."

"Hey, I'm telling you, Little Sister's City already had three-headed flags. Didn't you see three-headed flags on our earl's castle?" His words carried mockery; Davos felt a bit embarrassed, but fortunately he didn't continue.

"Hey, but Torrent's eel flag on the city wall has only been up a few hundred years; changing it doesn't matter." He laughed, "Quick relocation (movequickly), right!"

"Proactive action." That is the Torrent family's motto; after learning all this, Davos felt perhaps before taking proactive action they ought to learn to think twice.

The captain walked ahead of the path, telling Davos as they went which spots to walk slowly; he knew the location of every pothole on the road.

"Do you think going to White Harbor will be dangerous?" Perhaps I shouldn't ask him, but Davos felt he might be far more capable than the woman in red.

"Damn, of course it's dangerous. There's no safe spot at sea." He leaned on a stick he'd snatched from someone's doorstep, slammed it hard into the street's puddles, and cursed, "From the Bohai Sea looking over Seal Bay, from Trembling Sea to Bite Bay, from the Five-Finger Peninsula to the whole Narrow Sea, pirates from all over the world have been drawn in, and half the ships sunk on Sweet Sister Island's shallow sandbank are pirate ships."

"Why? What's there to loot along the North's coast?"

"The North has porcelain, of course, mainly the Night's Watch and the wildlings."

"What's there to loot there?"

"Who knows? The Night's Watch furs sell cheap, but this season, the pirate ships heading north are all after slaves."

"Where do the slaves come from?"

"The wildlings." He indicated a pit, "Nowadays it's hard to find anything good in sunken ships—either the wildlings' ragged furs they wear, or their corpses. Each one soaking in the sea turns whiter than snow."

"I heard the wildlings are attacking the Wall."

"Who cares. Unless they can swim, we'll just go on with our lives."

"I mean, how dare pirates attack organized wildlings?"

"Oh dear, sir, how would I know? Maybe the wildlings can't survive, or maybe there really are White Walkers—haha, to avoid being eaten by them, they'd rather sell themselves off than stay north of the Wall. I've heard slaves in the Eastern Continent are quite expensive."

"Besides pirates, any other danger?" Davos suddenly realized his answer was much like Melisandre's.

"We also found a whaling ship from Ibben, its hull punctured with many big holes; the wreck drifted with the current across the Trembling Sea and ended up at Sweet Sister Island. Such strange holes—some suspect they were made by a sea monster. Well, if that's the danger you wanted to hear about." He grew a bit impatient with the topic.

"I wasn't looking to hear about danger." Davos felt something crawl into his boot, so he took off his glove to reach in, and after being startled several times he finally pulled out the little thing.

"Hey, sir, you're lucky—Lady Wave actually threw herself into your arms." The captain turned his head and laughed loudly.

"If you want it." Davos tried to toss the little octopus to the captain, but the octopus clung tightly to his palm, its tentacles struggling between his fingers. Davos didn't like that feeling.

"This octopus is edible." The captain stopped, drew a dagger, and stabbed at the octopus's eyes; the octopus released Davos's hand and clung to the dagger.

The captain threw the wooden staff in his hand to the soldier, cut open the octopus with a dagger, tossed out the entrails, sliced it in half, and gave one half back to Davos.

"A fine gift from Lady Wave," the captain chuckled, popping the still‑struggling octopus into his mouth in one bite.

Davos grinned and did as he was told.

The count's castle remained the same—a black stone bridge plus a rust‑streaked iron gate—but unlike last time, several corpses lay sprawled at the outlet where water flowed into the moat, and a few guards were swinging ropes, trying to snag the bodies' heads to pull them aside and load them onto a cart.

Some were already piled on the cart.

Davos paid little heed, and, escorted by the captain, strode straight across the drawbridge guarded by the soldiers; after crossing, he took off his boots, poured out the water inside, put them back on, then passed through the gloomy stone‑walled passageway and entered the count's great hall.

Sunlight streamed in through holes in the walls, but it did not dispel the hall's gloom.

The castle floor was slick with water everywhere, but fortunately there wasn't much mud, making it far better than the inn.

The count remained seated on the dais.

"Ser Davos, what I wanted to say I've already written in the letter. I'll send someone to take you to White Harbor; today you can stay in the castle—I imagine it will be more comfortable than the outside inn." His voice was the same; the storm had ceased, yet he seemed not particularly pleased.

"No, my lord count, we cannot wait until tomorrow."

Perhaps tomorrow the whole world will learn that Sansa has shown up on Sweet Sister Isle, and then the count might, in order to prove he remains loyal to the Iron Throne, do something unpredictable.

"I want to set out now."

"Alester will not learn of the Stark maiden's news from my castle." He rose to his feet, "Last time you didn't heed my words, rushing out of the castle—all in all, you merely caused more trouble for everyone."

At least we now know more about the situation in the Three Sisters. "My lord count, the unnatural storm and the unnatural ravens already indicate sorcery is at work; I find it hard to imagine the target is not the Stark lady. Her lingering on the island any longer would also give her enemies more time to prepare."

"Take decisive action." The count scoffed, "Most of the time, being a little late or early makes no difference to the big picture; youngsters often fail to grasp this, but I thought you, ser, understood."

"My lord, I fully understand; it's only most of the time. I myself am an example—I wasn't knighted by King Stannis until I was nearly forty, whereas most nobles receive their knighthood in their teens, which is far too late by comparison, my lord, yet it didn't prevent my being appointed Hand of the King in my fifties."

"Oh, I see, but it seems I was the one who convinced you—are you planning to stay?" The count laughed as he rose.

Davos felt a flush of embarrassment.

Why would the king choose someone as ordinary as me to be his Hand?

"My lord, most of the time, but not now. A moment's delay would give our pursuers a chance to catch up, and I believe that once the ship reaches White Harbor, the Stark lady will be safe." Davos felt his argument was thin and feeble.

"Ser, did my Vorish captain tell you about the Torrent family?" the count asked.

"My lord count, the captain said very little." This was a lie, but in the end it hinged on what counts as "little."

"Oh, then I'll tell you a bit more." He descended from the dais.

"When the Torrent attacked the she‑wolf, I had already readied my fleet. The Torrent is an eel—he takes decisive action and indeed got a bite of the meat; I, however, am a spider crab, naturally slow, only waiting for others to take the bait, so I caught nothing."

"'Wait for the opportunity.' That is the saying of the Bannermen."

But you know how the story goes later: the sea eel ate others' flesh yet was nearly netted in its entirety, while the spider crab, slow to act, ate nothing and wasn't caught either—finally, others even sent over pottery.

I don't mean to keep you against your will. That raven is foul‑smelling and ferocious, its eyes red, its whole body reeking of evil, and on top of that it bears a terrifying message.

"This is dangerous, Ser Davos—do you know what a spider crab does when faced with peril?"

The count was willing to tell a story, and Davos could only listen quietly.

"Hide behind the rocks and wait for the danger to pass."

"My lord, there is always danger at sea," Davos said, as if quoting the red‑cloaked woman.

"I can't argue with that. But you know what I mean."

"I cannot hide behind the castle."

The count let out a long sigh. "Ser Davos, you are a good Hand."