"Dragon Steel?" Oberyn mumbled, surprise still not leaving his face. "What is that?"
"The steel is exactly what its name suggests," the man replied. "It is a steel which has been forged by dragon flames. The dragons of Lady Rhaenys."
There was a proud, perhaps even arrogant smile on his face as he stated this. It was as if this steel was a work of his own. And why not? Even if he did not have any contribution to forging the steel, it had still originated in his city, in Qohor and the blacksmiths of his city were working tirelessly to mold them into weapons. It was only a matter of a few more days, perhaps a couple of weeks, before the entire Essos would know of Dragon steel originating in Qohor.
The surprise on Oberyn's face only increased, but he did not say anything. He continued staring at the steel as he caressed it with a gentle stroke.
"Wonderful!" Oberyn finally remarked after a few moments of silence. "It is truly a masterpiece."
"What is so special about this dagger, uncle, that you have been enamored by it?" Arianne questioned as she approached him, intending to see the dagger for herself. "Do dragon flames really make steel special?"
Before Oberyn could respond, the man spoke up.
"It is indeed a very special dagger made of special steel, my lady," he said. "Apart from Valyrian steel, there is no other steel in the world which can compare with it in quality. It is extremely sharp, lightweight, and its edges do not easily get blunt."
By then, Arianne had already reached Oberyn and had taken the steel from his hands into her own. Unlike most of the Westerosi highborn ladies who lived their lives like flowers surrounded by luxury and comfort, Arianne was a warrior. She had seen hardship and trained herself to be an able combatant. And though she might not have been a great expert like her uncle, one glance from a close distance was all it took to recognize that this steel was indeed as special as the man was claiming.
"It is a masterpiece!" she repeated, echoing what her uncle had remarked just a few moments ago.
"Told you," Oberyn grinned. His curiosity to meet Rhaenys had now reached a very great height.
"What is the cost of this?" Oberyn turned and asked the shop owner.
"My Lord!" the shopkeeper responded nervously. "This… this has already been sold."
"If you want a dagger or a sword, you must give your order to me along with an advance payment," he continued, his voice afraid and hesitant. "It will take a few days for your order to arrive."
Oberyn narrowed his eyes before he burst out laughing. He pulled a small silk pouch from beneath his belt and tossed it toward the shopkeeper.
"I assume that you can manage a few orders getting mixed up," he said with a smirk. "And this pouch of coins should be more than enough for your hardship."
The man's eyes almost lit up, but then immediately shifted toward Oberyn's guides. Rhaenys did not torture shopkeepers with extra taxes, nor did she allow the soldiers to harass them. It made the life of the shopkeepers a lot easier. But the shopkeepers, too, were not allowed to sell anything above the market price. Hoarding, black marketing, and all those things to artificially raise the price were punishable offenses.
The guide did not react and continued to stand motionlessly. This was enough of a signal for the shopkeeper.
"Thank you, My Lord," he bowed. "This will do."
Oberyn only grinned in response before turning back toward the way they had been walking. Usually, the guide would not have allowed anything to be sold above the market price, but here it was Oberyn himself who had offered the price, and he did not mind his guest being indulged a bit. He could close his eyes for this one instance.
The group once again resumed their journey while the dagger rotated through the hands of Oberyn's guards and they were taking their sweet time to admire the masterpiece. Given how many coins Oberyn had spent to acquire the dagger, they could only dream for now of getting something like this.
The group continued to move until they arrived at a certain street. Even before they stepped onto the street, they could feel the temperature rising around them. The sound of hammers striking against the anvil was constantly echoing, and they did not need to be told where they were.
"Lord Oberyn," the man said, drawing attention toward himself. "Given the interest you showed in Dragon Steel, I thought I should take a slight detour on our way and bring you here. I hope you do not mind."
Oberyn shook his head, and a smile appeared on the man's face.
"This is the pride of Qohor," the man said, arrogance returning to his face. "Blacksmith Street."
Led by the man, the entourage entered the street. Both sides of the street were lined with shops, while the forges sat behind them. All kinds of weapons were being showcased in these shops, from daggers and small knives to swords, longswords, and bastard swords. Qohor, even before Rhaenys, was known for its superior weapons, but what the entourage saw shocked them to the core.
At almost every shop, apart from weapons forged of normal steel, a swathe of weapons made of Dragon Steel was on display. To the entourage, it did not look as though getting a weapon would take a few days at all.
"It seems you were fooled, uncle," Arianne remarked as she approached one of the shops and started to look at the weapons.
Oberyn could only look toward his guide in frustration. The man simply shrugged his shoulders in response.
"You did not ask me anything," he responded. "You were so excited that you did not even consider asking your guide. You immediately made the deal with the shopkeeper."
Oberyn only glared at him.
"And he was not entirely wrong," the man continued. "There is indeed a shortage of supply compared to the demand. It is only that here on Blacksmith Street, one person is permitted to buy only one weapon at a time. The traders who want weapons in bulk are the ones facing the shortage."
Oberyn finally sighed and let go of his frustration as he too followed his niece and his men into looking at the weapons.
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