The night was like ink, with a single lamp burning.
The night in Tyrosh was deep, accompanied by a sea breeze mixed with the scent of fish and dyes.
Rhaegar and the High Priest sat face to face. On the black wooden table of this crude hut were only a few plates of Tyroshi seafood—small fish or shrimp, either cured with coarse salt or grilled—and a bottle of Tyroshi pear honey water.
The High Priest had taken off his purple robes and changed into a grey, coarse cloth garment.
This hospitality was considered lavish for commoners, but for the high-ranking High Priest, it was indeed a bit too shabby.
Even though he was the noble Archon of Tyrosh, the old man cared little for food or clothing, living in this humble abode of coarse cloth, tucked away in this tiny temple.
Like the High Sparrow, he seemed to be a puritanical ascetic.
Such puritans and ascetics who restrained their desires and piously believed in the gods were much harder to deal with than the easily corrupted, fat bishops in King's Landing.
"Prince Rhaegar! Please!" the High Priest said.
"Thank you for your hospitality!" Rhaegar thanked him. Although the food was rough, it tasted good and the ingredients were fresh. Rhaegar ate with relish, not minding the food or the setting.
"Truly a different kind of Targaryen!" the High Priest exclaimed.
"Food is precious and must never be wasted. The only thing I cannot eat much of is the Tyroshi garlic honey roasted sausage; that stuff is indeed too greasy when eaten in excess," Rhaegar said.
"It is easy for a person to go from frugality to luxury, but difficult to go from luxury to frugality. The Prince was born into privilege and has lived in comfort from a young age, yet you can still eat the crude meals and food offered by this old man. It is truly rare," the High Priest sighed.
Having come from a life of hardship, he naturally understood how difficult it was for a young noble to live frugally.
Rhaegar smiled and said nothing. The High Priest could not imagine a future where there were no rigid hierarchies, where everyone was essentially equal, and where people took pride in frugality and equality.
"However, Prince, you are not truly a natural person. You are different from me, Prince; you are a man of many desires! You appear humble on the outside, but inside you are full of desire, unwilling to be beneath anyone. The legendary Dragon Kings were always the darlings of fire." The High Priest changed the subject, and his words were no longer complimentary.
Rhaegar smiled awkwardly. Dragon Kings were inherently full of desire. Kingdoms, beauties, wealth.
"I dare to ask your name, High Septon!" Rhaegar asked. He was also a bit curious.
"Like your High Septon of the Seven, I no longer have a name or title. When a person begins to serve the gods, he should renounce everything worldly. I heard that the nickname of this generation's High Septon is 'The Fat One'; my nickname is 'Bushy Brows'.
Besides, I was originally an orphan adopted by the three-headed god temple, so I have nothing worldly to cling to. It is not just me; the children of the Tyroshi spears outside all came here the same way. Perhaps they are the unwanted youngest sons of large, poor families, or the fruits of passion between sailors and prostitutes. As the tides come and go, only the three-headed god will accept our prayers," the High Priest said piously.
Rhaegar was silent. In this era, religion was not just a belief but also provided a portion of public welfare to protect the poor. It was precisely for this reason that such pious religious warriors existed.
But Rhaegar thought of another matter: this era had banks, but lacked universities. Logically, a normal era should have developed universities. He did not know why knowledge was still only accumulated at The Citadel; this was very unreasonable. Banks and universities were things King's Landing lacked, and Rhaegar thought he would need to add them in the future.
"It has been a pleasure dining and chatting with you, Prince Rhaegar. The young priests of Tyrosh approach me for crowns and power; the young nobles approach me to curry favor, to pressure the Archon through me. But you, Prince Rhaegar, are for now a friend with no desires," the High Priest said.
Rhaegar thought to himself, I want far more than the average Tyroshi noble; I want the city of Tyrosh to stand on my side.
The two continued their meal. "A few years ago, when the Silver Tongue declared himself king, why did you not come out to oppose him?" Rhaegar asked curiously. This was the question he was most curious about.
The Ninepenny King was a major event for Tyrosh. Alequo Adarys of the Band of Nine deposed the original Archon and declared himself king. Alequo ruled Tyrosh as a tyrant for six long years until he was poisoned by his queen.
This topic was too sharp. The High Priest, Bushy Brows, first frowned, then relaxed and said, "Alequo was also a Tyroshi; he simply wanted to transform the Archon system into a monarchy, but he did not make Tyrosh shed so much blood, so I had no need to intervene. Tyrosh is inherently a city with a slightly strong militaristic color. Usurping the throne as king, while unbearable to the Tyroshi, was not entirely without reason. The Archon of Tyrosh already had more power than the governors, but the Tyroshi were unwilling to accept a hereditary crown. Moreover, I am just an alert old man, not a born warrior or sorcerer. Intervening to stop the internal strife in Tyrosh this time already risked great enmity."
"I cannot forget the cruelty of the Bloodbath of Myr or the Dance of the Dragons of your family. I cannot let Tyrosh fall into such a situation. Rather than shattering Tyrosh, I would prefer to choose a dictator like Alequo," the High Priest continued.
The power of the Ninepenny King was not weak, and with the support of the Golden Company, pirates, and merchants, Alequo was also a strong man; otherwise, he could not have occupied Tyrosh for six years. It seems the High Priest had acquiesced at the time. When Alequo declared himself king, the opposition was not as strong as it is now. Currently, the Archon of Tyrosh and Governor Dario were almost evenly matched; if they really fought, Tyrosh would inevitably flow with blood.
Rhaegar understood the High Priest's thoughts: he could tolerate changes in Tyrosh, but he could not tolerate too much loss of Tyrosh's vitality.
"Then are you willing to support friendship between Tyrosh and the Iron Throne?" Rhaegar's eyes lit up.
"Must you make us choose? The Tyroshi do not want to dance with the Goddess of Love, but they also do not want to dance with dragons," the High Priest replied.
By saying this, Rhaegar understood the meaning. The High Priest could allow Tyrosh to choose neutrality rather than getting involved in the war. For Westeros, Tyrosh's neutrality was good news.
"I am afraid it is not that easy!" Rhaegar said. "Tyrosh is strategically located; Tyrosh is now the key to victory in the war. If it leans toward me, then the defeat of Lys and Myr is sealed. If it leans toward Lys and Myr, then the Kingdom of the Daughters will reappear. Between victory and defeat, Tyrosh cannot choose."
"The wind has risen in Tyrosh, but I do not know which way the wind blows. Whoever can win my friendship, I will support!" The High Priest drank the pear water in his cup in one gulp and said mysteriously.
"Old fox!" Rhaegar thought to himself. This old priest would not become a target; he would likely only stand on the side of the victor—as the saying goes, support whoever wins, endorse whoever wins. The High Priest's attempt to stop the civil war was already his greatest display of courage.
However, Rhaegar did not think the High Priest could extinguish all flames. The people of Lys and Myr had already blown their horns and would recklessly provoke the Archon of Tyrosh. It was not something that could be solved by the High Priest's one speech, and besides, the High Priest had only said it once.
"What if I deploy dragons?" Rhaegar asked. Dragons were the trump card, enough to suppress Governor Dario.
"Then you will lose my friendship, Prince Rhaegar, even if you have the protection of the great eagle god. I am a slave of the three-headed god, and even more so a servant of the Tyroshi. If I see three-headed dragons or the fleets of Lys or Myr appear in Tyrosh, no matter who it is, I will call upon all believers to attack and resist."
The two tacitly stopped discussing the war and continued to talk and drink.
The situation in Tyrosh was also undercurrents surging, but Rhaegar had also stayed in the small three-headed god temple for a few days.
Many people wanted to visit the High Priest, but the High Priest used the excuse that he was sick and sent them all away.
The High Priest was actually a very good tea companion. The High Priest was learned and talked to Rhaegar about quite a few secrets, customs, and knowledge.
In his quarters, a ball of blue flame lit up in Rhaegar's palm; it was the location of Governor Dario's mansion.
These past few days, Rhaegar would occasionally ignite Fire Sight to see the changes in the situation in Tyrosh.
He did not have Governor Dario's blood, so he could only see distant scenes and could not get close to Governor Dario's specific location.
At dusk, Rhaegar saw a group of murderous mercenaries rush out of Governor Dario's mansion, charging aggressively toward the Tyroshi Governor's mansion.
How was Shireen? Rhaegar felt a sense of urgency, but he did not have time to go immediately.
"The Archon is dead!"
"The Archon is dead!" Suddenly, crazy shouts came from the city of Tyrosh, and the whole city began to roar like boiling water.
Had the war begun? Rhaegar's heart tightened. He immediately rushed to the High Priest's residence, and the old man was already in a state of mania.
"How dare they? Who started it? I will make the rebellious traitors pay the price!" the High Priest roared.
"You had better worry about yourself first!"
"Take care to protect yourself, High Priest!" Rhaegar said to the High Priest.
The High Priest was stunned, his face turning pale. If Governor Dario's faction suddenly struck, seizing power at all costs, they would not only eliminate the Archon of Tyrosh but would also take advantage of the chaos to eliminate the High Priest.
The bloody night of Tyrosh was coming, and the places with the most bloodshed would be the Archon's mansion and this temple.
A hundred miles away on Bloodstone, the resting dragons suddenly felt a palpitation; it was the call of their master and companion.
The dragons roared and soared into the sky, taking off from the top floor of Dragons Roar Fortress on Bloodstone and rushing towards Tyrosh.
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