"Welcome, Prince Oberyn!"
Before the gates of the Fire Herb Manor, Gendry caught sight of the visitor. This was likely the first true Great Lord ever to set foot here.
Oberyn rode a jet-black stallion with a blazing red mane and tail. The horse was slender and quick, its neck fine, its head narrow and beautifully shaped. The rider was tall and lean, moving with effortless grace, as though horse and man were one. Dornish desert horses were smaller than northern warhorses and could not carry full plate, yet their endurance was famed—said to run two days and a night without tiring.
"Dorne's warriors are as countless as sand, yet none can match this one in splendor!" Gendry praised sincerely. The Red Viper's presence alone pressed down on the air.
A pale red silk cloak fluttered over the Red Viper's shoulders. His shirt was layered with overlapping copper scales that flashed like newly minted coins when he rode. A tall gilded helmet crowned his head, a copper sun fixed at its brow. From the rear of the saddle hung a round shield, its polished surface emblazoned with House Martell's sigil—a golden spear piercing the sun.
"The title 'Head Wolf' makes the Myrish tremble. How should I address you? Lord Commander, Liberator, King of Fire Herb, or Iron King? I don't even know your true name. Let me see your face."
The Red Viper lifted his helmet. Beneath it was a long, somber face. Dark eyes gleamed beneath finely arched brows, deep and bright as pools of oil. His forehead and nose were sharp and proud, and only a few strands of silver threaded through his lustrous black hair. A true salty Dornishman.
"A name is only a label—especially for Sellswords. Call me Warhammer. As for appearance, surely the Prince is not so shallow."
Gendry bowed, then began introducing his companions. That the Red Viper had come alone spoke to either supreme confidence or supreme recklessness.
"Allow me to introduce my Company. This is Handsome Man, treasurer of the Wolf Pack Company and my advisor. This is Master Qyburn, the Wolf Pack Company's healer and my maester. This is Fletcher Dick, the Wolf Pack Company's archery instructor and my advisor. This is Longspear, commander of my cavalry. This is Steel Fist, commander of my infantry. This is Black Billy, from the Summer Isles, commander of my archers. And this is Greywolf, captain of my personal guards."
Gendry recited their titles plainly. None carried a name as renowned as the Red Viper.
"Prince, you have traveled far. Please, come into the city and rest awhile."
"With pleasure," the Red Viper replied.
Gendry walked beside him. Stories of the Red Viper were endless, and Gendry had heard more than a few—many from Master Qyburn. The Reach and Dorne had long been at odds. Oberyn had once, indirectly, crippled the heir of Highgarden.
"I was a Sellsword once myself," Oberyn said. "Long ago."
"When was that?" Gendry asked, polite but genuinely curious.
"Many years past. You know I've never been one to sit idle. I studied at the Citadel and forged six links before boredom drove me away. Later I fought in the Disputed Lands—first with the Second Sons, then I raised a Company of my own. But I never had the nerve you do, Lord Commander, to try and overturn the very foundations of the Disputed Lands."
As he spoke, the Red Viper's gaze swept across the soldiers of the Free Company—men who had once been slaves, now standing straight and full of spirit.
"Circumstances left us no choice, Prince. We would never have gone this far if we hadn't been forced," Gendry said.
"This is a fine place. When I was young, I too thought myself unmatched. Yet in the end, I never built anything truly my own."
"It is also a chaotic place. The Myrish love selling Myrish carpets and Fire Herbs, but they cannot tolerate their slaves selling the same goods."
"Chaos gives birth to renewal. Everything here feels alive. I rather like it. Long ago, one of my ancestors fled Essos for Dorne to escape slavery."
He spoke lightly of ancient days.
Gendry knew whom Oberyn meant—the tale of Queen Nymeria.
"You've built something impressive here. Were it not for matters in Westeros that I cannot abandon, I would stay longer."
"I would be honored if the Prince did."
"I hear you shattered the Brave Companions. That rabble deserved worse."
"Yes. A pack of criminals and butchers. Clever enough, but brittle when faced with true strength."
They entered the Fire Herb Manor. Escorted by Unsullied guards, they climbed to the highest level of the tower, where the entire estate spread out below them in full view.
"To make a long story short, I want to discuss cooperation with the King of Fire Herb. This has nothing to do with Dorne or your Fire Herb Kingdom. It concerns only the Red Viper and you."
"You're perceptive, Prince," Gendry replied.
The Red Viper and Doran were two sides of the same coin. He appeared reckless, even arrogant, but beneath it he was anything but simple. Even if he joined hands with Gendry, he would do so as an individual, without dragging Dorne into it.
"I once thought only your Wolf Pack Company was dependable. I didn't expect the Free Company to be this impressive as well," the Red Viper said with a nod. "In truth, we could work together. I, too, have need of a strong force."
"Have you heard of a murder? A cruel and merciless one. It happened more than ten years ago, in King's Landing."
"...I've certainly heard of it," Gendry said quietly.
A fine piece of work by House Lannister. Tywin had kept more than a few vicious hounds. When King's Landing fell, two of them went mad with slaughter.
The Mountain and Amory Lorch bathed the Red Keep in blood. The Mountain burst into the royal nursery and smashed Prince Rhaegar's infant son, Prince Aegon, against a wall, killing him. Before the child's blood and brains had even dried, he raped and murdered Princess Elia, Aegon's mother. Amory dragged the screaming little girl from beneath her father Rhaegar's bed and stabbed her again and again until she lay still.
"I have a taste for blood," the Red Viper said softly, "but I have waited year after year."
"And what do you gain from it, Prince? Your game of vengeance sounds rather extravagant," Gendry asked deliberately.
"Gain?" The Red Viper's eyes sharpened. "Clever young man. Trouble hangs over you like storm clouds. The Three Daughters will never tolerate your little kingdom growing larger. And the pirates—do you not need allies? Or support?"
He smiled faintly.
"Dorne may be long and dry, but we have our famous horses, our spearmen, our Summerwine, our spices. I imagine the Lord Commander always has use for such things."
"I do," Gendry admitted. "In return, I have Myr tapestries and Fire Herb. But to offend a powerful man for your sake… that would not be easy."
"If the terms are right, we may help one another," the Red Viper replied calmly. "I've waited long enough. I'm in no hurry. Tell me, what else does the Lord Commander want?"
"I want Myr. I want the Three Daughters. I want all of Essos."
Gendry met his gaze without blinking. He did not sound like a man jesting.
The Red Viper threw back his head and laughed.
"Madman! A true madman. Perhaps only the young and the mad are suited to work with me." His laughter faded into a grin. "Your tone reminds me of someone. A man who overturned a kingdom for the sake of a misguided love. Come to think of it, you do share a few similarities. Unyielding. And both fond of the warhammer."
"You're reading too much into it," Gendry replied evenly.
"Perhaps. Let us hope so. Fortunately, the Lion bore the King a few children… though that is a story best left untold."
"Why choose us?" Gendry asked.
"I considered many candidates. In the end, they all faded like smoke. The Magister of the Three Daughters thinks only of profit. Completely unreliable." He studied Gendry. "So I thought I might speak with a new partner instead."
"The gods be praised. I never did hear that the Myrish wiped out your Wolf Pack Company."
His dark eyes lingered on Gendry.
"You are strong enough. I can see the beginnings of a partnership here."