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Chapter 201: Compensation Gift
🕑 Added 2025-03-12 12:27:32 +0000 UTC“Although this may have been the personal action of your fleet commander, it does not justify your alliance with pirates to attack Godsgrace Island. The losses you have caused me are very real. Simply brushing it off as a misunderstanding is far too convenient.”
In the courtyard of a manor outside the port of Blackstone Island, Lynd took a sip of a frozen fruit drink, chilled with an ice dragon rune, as he gazed at the man before him—Atester, a slightly plump Tyroshi City Protector with short green hair and garish clothing. His voice was calm yet firm.
Atester swallowed dryly, not out of desire for the drink itself, but because Lynd had conjured it before his very eyes using magic.
Rumors of Lynd’s mastery over divine power had long circulated among the Free Cities of Essos. In Tyrosh, Myr, Lys, and even Pentos, Storm Shrines dedicated to him had been erected. Though small and not part of the dominant faiths, they were still frequented by sailors who would offer prayers before setting sail.
Atester had never put stock in such rumors. Before coming here, he had thought of Lynd as nothing more than a barbarian lord from the western continent. But witnessing him transform an ordinary drink into an ice-cold one with a mere gesture made him reconsider. The legends might be true—this man wielded power akin to that of a god.
He had encountered sorcerers, pyromancers, red priests, skinchangers, and bloodmages—people who possessed extraordinary abilities. He could tell the difference between mere tricks and genuine mystical power. And there was no doubt in his mind: Lynd belonged to the latter category.
More importantly, Lynd had demonstrated his power effortlessly, without any need for incantations or prayers. That alone set him apart from any wizard or red priest Atester had ever seen. It was as if the power came from within him, something innate. The tales claiming Lynd to be the incarnation of the Storm God no longer seemed so far-fetched.
Now, fully convinced of Lynd’s abilities, Atester realized that his mission was likely to fail. Those who wielded great power were often resolute and not easily swayed by words alone.
Still, he had to try.
So when Lynd questioned him, he quickly responded, “Of course, we acknowledge that we were in the wrong. We are willing to compensate you, Lord Chosen One, for your losses.”
“Good.” Lynd did not hesitate. He gestured to a nearby attendant, took out a scroll, and handed it to Atester. “This is the compensation I require. Take a look.”
Seeing Lynd produce a compensation list so directly made Atester’s heart sink. He had a bad feeling about this. Even so, he took the scroll, unrolled it, and began reading. Before he had even finished, his face was already filled with surprise. He looked up and asked, “Is this all you’re asking for?”
“Do you think I’m the kind of person who is insatiable?” Lynd said seriously. “I only take what is mine.”
“I admire your character,” Atester said quickly, rising to his feet and bowing.
No wonder he had been so shocked. The terms on the compensation list not only fell within the limits set by the Archon but were actually far less demanding than anticipated.
The primary requests were straightforward: compensation for ships and personnel lost in the naval battle, all of which were within a reasonable range. Additionally, the captured ships and sailors would not be returned to Tyrosh—a condition Tyroshi officials had already expected.
There were only two particularly strict provisions.
First, for the next five years, Summerhall would take control of the docks, and all docking fees would be collected by Summerhall. Tyroshi merchant ships that were not members of the Miracle Merchant Guild would have to pay double the docking fees. After five years, the docks would be returned, and all fees would revert to normal.
Second, Tyrosh’s prized purple dye could only be sold by members of the Miracle Merchant Guild. It would be forbidden to sell it to merchant caravans or trade guilds from other cities, including Tyroshi merchants themselves.
Though these terms were somewhat harsh, they remained within the limits of what Tyrosh’s leadership could tolerate. Compared to the staggering compensation demands raised during yesterday’s negotiations, today’s conditions seemed almost too good to be true.
“Since you find these compensation terms reasonable, take them back to your Archon. If they are approved, we will formalize the agreement.” Lynd was direct and didn’t waste any more words. As he dismissed his guest, he added with a note of impatience, “The weather here is too hot—I don’t like it. The sooner this is settled, the sooner I can leave. Don’t keep me waiting too long, Lord Atester.”
“Yes, yes,” Atester quickly replied.
Just as he was about to leave, he hesitated, then turned back to Lynd and said, “I also brought two small gifts on this diplomatic mission. I hope you’ll find them to your liking.”
He offered no further explanation and simply walked out of the courtyard.
“Gifts?” Lynd frowned and turned to his attendant. “He brought gifts?”
“Yes, my lord,” the attendant quickly answered. “His gifts are two people.”
“Two people?” Lynd asked. “Women?”
“No, one man and one woman,” the attendant replied. “A teenage boy and a girl who looks around ten.”
Lynd was puzzled. If Atester had gone so far as to present these two as a gift, he must have believed they held great value to him—perhaps enough to persuade him to lessen the terms of compensation. But he couldn’t think of any boy or girl who would be of such importance.
So he ordered his attendant to bring them in.
As the two were led through the vineyard trellis and into Lynd’s presence, he immediately understood why Atester had assumed they would be of interest.
Both had silver hair and violet eyes—though one had silver-white hair, while the other’s was a blend of silver and gold. Their features were strikingly beautiful, more so than most people Lynd had ever seen.
As soon as they stood before him, the boy instinctively stepped in front of the girl, shielding her, and lifted his chin in a deliberate display of arrogance. The girl, meanwhile, clung timidly to the boy’s clothing, gripping the fabric tightly as she watched Lynd with wary eyes.
“Bring two chairs, and prepare some food. A Targaryen prince and princess should not be made to stand here like criminals awaiting trial,” Lynd instructed his attendants.
The two before him were none other than the exiled Targaryen siblings. From their current state of dress, it was clear they had fallen into utter destitution. Not even a single piece of presentable clothing remained between them—Viserys’ garments were visibly patched, making it no surprise that people had mocked him as the Beggar King.
When Lynd recognized them, both visibly tensed. Yet Viserys still held his head high, stubborn and proud, as if lowering it for even a moment would cause the invisible crown upon it to slip away.
The attendants quickly brought two chairs and set a table with an array of food.
It was obvious the two had not eaten since morning. At the sight of the meal, they couldn’t help but swallow, their stomachs giving them away with soft growls. Yet neither reached for the food. Instead, they remained wary, keeping their eyes fixed on Lynd.
Lynd smiled, poured two glasses of juice, and pushed them toward the siblings. “Try it. This is made from Summerhall’s green fruits, filtered and pressed into juice. You might recognize the taste of home.”
As he spoke, the juice in both glasses froze into ice, sending cold mist curling into the warm air.
The two siblings watched the transformation in awe before exchanging glances. After a moment, Viserys hesitantly picked up a glass, took a careful sip, and, when he found nothing amiss, handed the other to Daenerys.
At this point, Viserys had not yet suffered the humiliations and defeats that would later push him toward madness. He was still a protective older brother, shielding the only family he had left.
No wonder, then, that even after everything, Daenerys had named one of her dragons after him.
“In the name of Viserys III, when I reclaim my throne, I will reward you with a land grand enough to match this gesture.” Perhaps the cool drink had helped ease his irritation, as his tone had lost some of its earlier sharpness. Setting the glass down, he declared solemnly, “For this cup of juice, I will see you properly rewarded.”
Lynd smiled and asked, “Do you know who I am?”
Viserys shook his head.
Lynd introduced himself, “My name is Lynd Tarran, though others are used to calling me the Chosen One. I am the Lord of Summerhall, and this land was granted to me by King Robert Baratheon.”
At Lynd’s words, Viserys tensed up once more, his body stiffening. Daenerys glanced at her brother in confusion but still instinctively hid behind him.
“You don’t need to be afraid. I have no intention of using you to gain favor with King Robert,” Lynd said as he looked at the two of them. “You’ll stay here for the next couple of days. Once my negotiations with Tyrosh are settled, I will send someone to take you wherever you wish to go. Do you have a destination in mind?”
“You really won’t turn us over to the Usurper?” Viserys asked, his tone filled with disbelief.
Lynd raised an eyebrow. “Do you think I have any reason to lie to you?”
Viserys hesitated, then shook his head slightly. After a moment’s thought, he seemed to realize that Lynd had no real motive to deceive them. Deciding that Lynd truly meant no harm, he finally relaxed, pulled Daenerys to the table, and began to eat.
Perhaps now that she felt more at ease, Daenerys glanced at Lynd curiously while nibbling on her food, as though she had something she wanted to ask. Yet each time, she hesitated and cast a cautious glance at Viserys.
“Go ahead and ask,” Lynd said, noticing her hesitation. “If I can answer, I will.”
“I’ve heard stories about you,” Daenerys said. She looked once more at her brother, and when he didn’t object, she took a sip of juice, swallowed, and asked, “Are you really the Chosen One of the Seven?”
Lynd chuckled. “People say I am. So I am.”
“I heard that you’ve seen White Walkers. Is that true?” she asked again.
“It’s true. Not only have I seen them—I’ve killed them,” Lynd replied with a solemn nod. “Winter is coming. When the Long Night arrives, the White Walkers will march south, and when that happens, war will be inevitable.”
“If I reclaim the throne, I will do everything in my power to prepare for that war,” Viserys interjected.
Lynd merely smiled, saying nothing, which seemed to irk Viserys.
“You tamed the giants beyond the Wall, didn’t you?” Daenerys asked, still full of curiosity.
Lynd nodded. “Yes. I’ve settled them in the Redemption Sept at Summerhall, where they serve as my wife’s protectors. Speaking of which, my wife is the bastard daughter of Prince Lewyn and the Lady of Tumbleton. Prince Lewyn was one of your father’s Kingsguard. He fought alongside Prince Rhaegar at the Battle of the Trident and died on the battlefield.”
At this, Viserys’ eyes lit up, and he eagerly said, “Then we have a common enemy—”
Lynd cut him off. “Wrong. King Robert is not my enemy. And as for my wife, she despised her father. In fact, she outright hated him. According to her, hearing of Prince Lewyn’s death was the best news she had ever received at the time.”
Viserys pursed his lips, clearly displeased, but he said nothing more. Instead, he lowered his head and tore into his food with renewed focus.
Daenerys popped a piece of dessert into her mouth and, before she had even swallowed, asked, “Did you really exorcise the ghosts of Summerhall?”
“I did,” Lynd confirmed. “That’s why I built the Redemption Sept there. And I also acquired a dragon egg, though it is currently kept in the castle at Summerhall.”
At the mention of a dragon egg, Daenerys’ eyes lit up with excitement. Even Viserys paused, his food momentarily forgotten.
Daenerys sat up straight and asked, “Is it true that you tamed a Sea Dragon?”
“Yes, it's true,” Lynd confirmed, then asked, “The Cannibal is nearby. Do you want to see it?”
“Yes!” Daenerys answered eagerly, but then hesitated. “Can you really show it to me?”
“Of course.” Lynd nodded, rising from his seat. “Are you finished eating? If you’re full, we can go see it now.”
“I’m full! I’m full!” Daenerys quickly jumped down from her chair. Viserys stood as well, taking Daenerys by the hand and following Lynd as they stepped out of the courtyard, heading toward the shore.
As they left, seven Silent Men and Redemption Sisters emerged from the shadows, positioning themselves around Lynd in a protective formation.
Lynd had no real need for bodyguards, but he had accepted the arrangement out of respect for Holy Sister Melessa and Elder Colin, as well as at Nymeria’s request. Just like Nymeria, he had been assigned seven protectors.
Seeing that all of Lynd’s guards were members of the church, both Viserys and Daenerys were visibly surprised, but they chose not to ask any questions.
The group soon arrived at a sandy beach along the coast of Blackstone Island.
As they approached, the Cannibal—having long since received Lynd’s command through their mental link—rose from the sea and crawled ashore, crouching before Lynd.
The sight left the Targaryen siblings utterly stunned. Even the Silent Men and Redemption Sisters, despite having seen the Cannibal before, were still struck speechless by its sheer presence.
Daenerys, filled with curiosity, instinctively pulled her hand from her brother’s grasp and, as if mesmerized, began walking toward the massive beast.
Viserys, overwhelmed by shock, failed to notice his sister’s bold move.
Lynd, however, did notice—but he made no attempt to stop her. Instead, he watched with interest, wanting to see how the future Mother of Dragons would react, as well as the Cannibal’s response.
Daenerys soon reached the side of the Cannibal’s head. Compared to its massive skull, her small frame seemed almost insect-like. The dragon even had to tilt its head slightly to get a better look at the tiny figure standing beneath its eye.
Daenerys hesitated, wanting to reach out but also feeling apprehensive. She glanced back at Viserys—who still stood frozen in shock—then turned toward Lynd before finally placing her hand on the dragon’s rough scales.
Through his bond with the Cannibal, Lynd could sense the creature’s emotions. It didn’t seem to mind Daenerys’ touch—not because of any particular affinity she had, but simply because its thick, armor-like scales dulled any sensation. The dragon merely registered that she had touched it but felt no real impact.
Just then, Viserys snapped out of his daze and, upon seeing his sister touching the dragon, a thought took root in his mind—one of delusion and grandeur.
He glanced at Lynd, who paid him no attention, then rushed forward toward the Cannibal.
Standing before the great beast, he puffed out his chest and proclaimed in a loud voice, “I am Viserys Targaryen III, heir of the Dragonlords of Valyria, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Ruler of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm! Dragon, I command you—obey me!”
His antics naturally drew the attention of the Silent Men and Redemption Sisters, who immediately prepared to intervene. However, Lynd raised a hand to stop them, watching instead with amusement as Viserys shouted his self-proclaimed titles as though they held any weight here.
Daenerys, startled by her brother’s outburst, took a few steps back, glancing nervously at Lynd.
The Cannibal, meanwhile, seemed thoroughly unimpressed. It regarded Viserys much like one might regard an incessantly buzzing fly—an irritant more than anything else.
With a flick of its long, whip-like tail, the dragon struck.
The tail, though relatively small compared to the Cannibal’s enormous body, was still immense to a human. For Viserys, it might as well have been a battering ram.
The impact sent him flying through the air, landing with a heavy thud on the sand more than ten meters away.
