POV: Dunk
By the time we came in sight of King's Landing, the sun was low behind a green sky. It was not the color of dusk but of wildfire, bright and sickly over the city walls. The air smelled of smoke even from here.
Prince Baelor lifted his hand, and the line of riders came to a halt. "We go no farther," he said. "The gates are shut. The Hand has sealed the city."
No one questioned him. The green glow was answer enough.
I could taste the ash in the air. Sharp and bitter, like burning pitch.
Baelor turned his horse and spoke low so only Egg and I could hear. "Bloodraven is burning the dead. Even the living are put into the flames."
We made camp on the open ground off the kingsroad, far enough from the city's stench but close enough to see its fires. The servants raised tents while the knights staked the horses.
Egg helped me with ours, though his hands were clumsy with the ropes. "Ser," he said after a while, "do you think the sickness will reach us too?"
"Maybe," I told him. "But the wind's with us, and the Hand is doing his job even if his methods are harsh."
Egg looked toward the city again. Green light reflected in his eyes. "It looks cursed," he said.
"Aye," I said, tying down the rope. "Cursed or not, we'll stay put until the prince gives word."
He was quiet for a while, then said, "Ser, when we were on the road, you made that dish. The one with the long things and the red sauce."
I smiled a little. "Spaghetti and meatballs."
"Aye, that. Could we have it again?"
"Not here, lad," I said. "Too many eyes. We'll make it again once we've left the city behind."
He nodded, though he looked disappointed. "Aye, ser."
"We'll dine with the princes tonight," I said. "Baelor's orders."
After tying the last knot, we moved towards the tent where dinner was served.
The princes' tent was bright with lamplight and warm with spiced wine. Prince Valarr ate neatly and carefully, every movement practiced. Prince Daeron sat beside him, a cup in hand and a faraway look in his eyes.
Egg and I took our places at the lower end. The food was good, barley bread and venison stew, but none of us ate much.
Smoke dulls the appetite, even more when it comes from the dead.
Daeron glanced toward the city and spoke softly. "When I was a boy, I trapped a rat in the Red Keep. It ran until there was no way out, then it leapt straight for my face. Even the king's guard beside me stepped back, though it was only a rat."
Valarr frowned. "You've a poor sense for table talk, brother."
Daeron smiled faintly. "Even a rat will fight when it's cornered."
No one answered. The silence after his words was heavy.
Baelor said nothing, only stared into his cup. I kept my thoughts to myself, but Daeron's words stayed with me. King's Landing was full of rats. Hungry, desperate men and women. And Bloodraven was sealing every door and burning the rest.
When we left the tent, the air outside felt cooler. The sky still glowed green above the walls.
"Daeron talks strangely," Egg said.
"He drinks too much, but he's right. But you don't have to worry about it," I told him.
We talked for around an hour, then as he fell asleep, I sat by the lantern, thinking.
I'd had ravens in King's Landing, but after Aerion left for Summerhall, I stopped checking on them.
Now, how could I help them?
I opened my system shop and searched. Soon I found what I needed: Antibiotics.
I bought them in huge amounts in powder form. A large plastic barrel filled with white powder appeared in my inventory.
But how to give them to Bloodraven?
….
I left camp after midnight. The night was still, and the green glow above the walls had faded to dull smoke.
Down by the river, the air was colder. The Blackwater ran dark and silent under the moon.
I brought a small wooden boat from the system shop, a flat-bottomed skiff just large enough for me and a lantern.
I pushed it into the water and rowed along the bank until I reached the base of the arch.
I stored the boat in my inventory then moved toward the tunnel. It was the same tunnel that Tyrion had used in the books I'd read in my old life.
They said Maegor had these passages built to hunt traitors and mistresses both. He'd filled them with traps, secret doors, and walls that led nowhere. But the men who'd built them were all dead now, so no one else would know their secrets.
I raised my lantern and stepped inside.
The air was dry and still, with a faint scent of rot and old stone. My footsteps echoed softly as I moved forward.
Further in, the passage opened wider, and the tunnel split in many directions. I took the leftmost, the one that should lead beneath the cellars of the Red Keep.
When I reached the cellars, I set down the lantern and drew a bit of parchment and a quill from my pack.
To Bloodraven, Hand of the King,
I have found a cure for the sickness in the city. Meet me in the cellars beneath the Red Keep. Tell no one.
—Ser Duncan the Tall
I rolled the parchment and tied a string around it.
I used my warging link to call a raven to my position.
A minute later, I heard the faint flutter of wings. One of my old ravens landed on a beam above.
I tied the message to its leg. "Fly to the Hand. You'll find him in the Tower of the Hand. Give it to no one else."
The bird cawed once and flew off into the dark above.
I stood there, listening until its wings faded.
Then I sat and waited.
I didn't know what Bloodraven would make of it. He was not a trusting man. But if he believed me, he could save them all.
And if he didn't…
I looked up at the stone above my head, imagining the city beyond. Thousands of souls. All burning.
But it seems he was even more desperate than me. I heard it. A footstep, soft and deliberate.
I warged into a rat in that part of the tunnel to confirm who was coming.
Through the rat's eyes, I saw him. White hair. Red eye. Moving through the shadows like he belonged there.
Bloodraven.
I pulled out of the rat and stood, pulling a glass jar from my inventory. It was filled with white powder. Antibiotics in powder form.
Bloodraven stepped into the lamplight, his red eye fixed on me. "Ser Duncan. I received your message."
"Lord Hand."
"You claim to have a cure for the plague."
"I do." I held up the jar. "This powder. Mix a small amount with water and have the infected drink it. Three times a day for seven days. It will kill the sickness."
Bloodraven's eye narrowed. "What is it?"
"Medicine from far away. Very far away."
"And you expect me to believe you?"
"Test it. Choose someone infected. Give them the treatment. If they don't improve in three days…. " I paused. "Well, you lose nothing."
He studied me for a long moment. Then he took the jar, turning it over in his hands. "Why come to me in secret?"
"Because if this works, people will want to know where it came from. And I can't answer that question. Not truthfully."
"You're asking me to lie to the king."
"I'm asking you to save the city. However, you need to."
Bloodraven was silent. Then he nodded once. "If this works, I'll need more. Much more."
"I can provide it. But my involvement stays secret. No one can know I gave this to you."
"Agreed." He tucked the jar into his cloak, then turned and walked back into the darkness, moving as silently as a ghost.
I waited until I couldn't hear his footsteps anymore, then made my way back through the tunnels to the river.
By the time I returned to camp, dawn was breaking. Egg was still asleep in the tent. I lay down on my bedroll and closed my eyes.
If the antibiotics worked, thousands would live.
....