"Where is my uncle? Tell him to leave quickly!" As soon as Asha climbed over the rail of the Sea Song with the help of her rescuers, she shouted a warning. "This is a trap. Euron's goal is to eliminate both of us at once, and to do it legally!"
"Weigh anchor, raise the sails, man the oars!" The Lord of Harlaw Island calmly issued orders to the crew. Only after the sailors began to move did he emerge from the crowd, catching his niece, who seemed unsteady and overly tense. He hugged her tightly, gently stroking her back as he whispered reassuringly, "Don't be nervous, my dear. The moment I received Euron's letter, I suspected some trick, so I came to Pyke well prepared. I promise, at least tonight, we are safe. Now be good, go below, get something to eat, take a bath, and rest. Once you've recovered, we'll talk about what comes next."
...
Far in the distance, the bells and horns from Pyke echoed through the silent night, long and mournful. But the Sea Song had already adjusted its heading and began picking up speed. Pyke had no port. Even if Euron realized the prisoner had escaped, he would need to board a ship or dispatch a warship from nearby Lord's Port to pursue them.
Asha, realizing she was truly safe for now, finally let out a long breath. The tension gave way to exhaustion and hunger. She nodded and let her uncle guide her to the cabin. After eating something, she soaked in a hot bath with the help of another woman.
Rodrik Harlaw's original plan had been to speak with Asha after she had rested and recovered, but though her two days in the dungeon of Blood Keep had been filled with filth and discomfort, she had not been interrogated or abused. The only thing she lacked was sleep.
Now, with a full stomach, clean clothes, and the comfort of hot water restoring her strength, Asha felt almost reborn. With so much weighing on her mind, sleep was impossible.
She refused the offer of a cabin to rest and, after drying her hair, stepped out onto the deck.
The sea around them was still and black, the stars shining above. No pursuers appeared from the darkness. Perhaps the so-called trap had just been her overactive imagination. As an experienced captain, she checked the stars and the wind. She quickly noticed that the Sea Song was not heading northeast, as expected, but southeast.
She frowned and sought out her uncle, asking a sailor where he was. When she found him giving instructions on deck, she asked, "Uncle, where are we going?"
"We might run into an ambush on the way back to Harlaw Island. We're heading to the Dreadfort."
Asha understood avoiding a direct route to prevent interception, but the second half of the answer left her stunned.
"Dreadfort?" She didn't hide her confusion. "If I remember correctly, the Iron Islands are at war with the Westerlands. Did we take the castle while I was gone?"
"No. The Dreadfort is still held by the Banefort family. They remain loyal to Tywin Lannister."
"Then why are we going there?"
"Where else would you go? What do you plan to do? Return to Harlaw Island and start a rebellion against Euron?" Rodrik countered calmly. "We already discussed this at the kingsmoot. You were there, you participated. You must respect the result. The Ironborn chose Euron as their King, so he is our rightful ruler. I went to Pyke to save you out of love for your mother and for you. You are my blood niece, like a daughter to me, but I will not start a civil war that pits Ironborn against Ironborn, all for a cause we cannot win."
"This time is different. I have powerful allies from outside, and I've found a true path forward for the Iron Islands..."
"I'm not debating this with you," Rodrik interrupted, firm and final. "Euron Greyjoy is leading us toward destruction. On that, we agree. But Crow's Eye isn't stupid. He knows the Iron Islands can't face a united Westeros. So his plan is to keep the kingdoms divided, to ensure there is always war, never peace. That is a dangerous game, dancing on a blade. Someday, he'll slip and be cut. But the key is this: we know it will happen, but not when. And more importantly, even if retribution is certain, it must not come from you or me." He exhaled deeply. "Asha, I don't know who this foreign ally of yours is, and I don't care whether the path you've found is right or wrong. This time, I will follow my principles. Please forgive me."
Asha felt her uncle's resolve and, after a moment of bitter silence, gave up arguing. "Then what happens after I'm dropped off on the Westerlands shore?"
"I've prepared some silver and horses for you. When we approach the coast, I'll send you ashore in a small boat. Whether you travel alone and avoid castles and villages, or surrender and reveal your identity to seek asylum—though I recommend the latter—is up to you."
"Alright. I'll decide after we land." Asha clenched her fists. She knew her uncle. When he said he was sticking to his principles, there would be no changing his mind. "There's something else I want to ask you. Uncle, do you know what's wrong with Euron's eye under the patch?"
"I don't. Doesn't he wear the patch because the eye is injured or blind?"
"No. That eye is nothing like before. Before Father drove him from the Iron Islands, Euron had two different-colored eyes, one black and one blue. But aside from the colors, both were normal. Now, the black one... the one under the patch... the white of the eye has turned blood-red."
"So what? Maybe he wears the patch to cover the strange appearance," Rodrik said, not seeing the issue.
"It's not that simple. A few days ago, in the hall at Pyke, when the Lords were discussing my demands, he took off the patch and made me look at that eye. I felt like my mind was being invaded and plundered. It was magic!" Asha said uneasily, struggling to describe it. "After the kingsmoot, when you sailed with him on his campaigns, did you never notice anything strange?"
Rodrik sighed, unimpressed. "There were many strange things, but isn't that why the Lords chose him? Euron claims to have sailed the entire known world, from Ibben to Asshai. He says he ventured into Valyria itself, through smoke and fire. Where do you think the dragon horn he gave Victarion came from, or that Valyrian steel armor he wears? If his claims are true, and if the stories in books are true—that demons dwell in Valyria and wizards gather in Asshai—then it's not surprising if he picked up some magic or brought back enchanted relics."
Asha fell silent. Her uncle's reminder suddenly put things into perspective. The visions she saw when she looked into Euron's eye now made sense. The strange creatures she glimpsed might have been demons from Valyria. The eerie human figures could have been wizards from Asshai. Euron Greyjoy had traveled to the ends of the known world, struck bargains, survived horrors, and returned changed.
No wonder all the crew aboard the Silence were mute. He had silenced them to keep his secrets.
"Asha, even if that eye is magical, so what? The Ironborn respect strength. If you told everyone that their King had a magic eye that could read thoughts, they wouldn't rise against him. It would only make him more terrifying and more revered."
That eye could do far more than just read minds. Asha wanted to argue. Ever since she met its gaze and lost consciousness, she had felt a presence, like something foreign lodged deep in her mind. Even now, after escaping, after food and a bath, the sensation hadn't faded. But her uncle clearly thought she was deluding herself, clinging to a lost cause.
And yet, she had to admit—he was right. Fixating on Euron's eye would not change anything.
"You misunderstand, Uncle. I only wanted to warn you. Next time you face Euron, especially if he removes his patch, be careful not to look directly at him."
She dropped the topic. But another matter came to mind. One far more urgent.
"Uncle, after dropping me on the Westerlands shore, are you going back? What will you tell your King when he asks where I am?"
"I'll tell him the truth. I'll confess everything. I'll tell him I am willing to step down, to give up the Sea Song, my seat at Ten Towers, and my lordship over Harlaw Island. He may name any of my sons or nephews as successor. All I ask is that he let you go, and never hunt you down. Harlaw is the wealthiest and most populous island of the archipelago. But since his rise, it's also the least loyal. Now, without force or trickery, he can remove a disobedient Lord and gain a firm grip over the island. It's too good a deal for him to pass up."
It was a clever move. A gain for Euron. But for Asha, it meant her last base of support would vanish. Euron's grip on the Iron Islands would tighten completely. Her plans to return, to rally allies, to avenge her father, were now impossible. She had escaped. But in truth, she had been exiled.
"Uncle—"
"Focus on yourself, child. To others, losing those titles might seem like a downfall. But for me, a reader, a scholar, it just means I can finally spend the rest of my life in peace with my books. I welcome that. But you, you have no home now. Your road ahead will be long and hard." Rodrik Harlaw shook his head, then softened his tone. "Alright, dear Asha. If there's nothing else, I need you to return to the cabin and rest. We'll reach shore around midday. Whether you go into hiding or surrender and reveal your name, a long journey lies ahead. Enjoy the sleep you can still get."
(To be continued.)