Thud.
Obara Sand's fist smashed into Nahor Demitris's face. His head snapped back, slammed against the wooden post behind him, then slumped forward. Blood poured from his mouth and nose, dripping onto the filthy stone floor.
"Talk!"
Obara grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked his head up. Her eyes were burning.
"Tell us where he is, you piece of shit!"
Nahor coughed, blood bubbling at the corner of his mouth. He tried to speak, but only wet, choking sounds came out.
Tyene stood nearby, breathing hard, knuckles already raw. "He's got a tough mouth. We've been beating him for half an hour and he hasn't said a single fucking word."
Nymeria leaned against the wall a few feet away, looking almost bored. She examined her nails like she was checking her manicure.
"Big sister," she said calmly, "let me try."
Obara glanced at her, then nodded. "Go ahead."
Nymeria pushed off the wall with a graceful little smile. She pulled a small leather pouch from her belt, opened it, and drew out a slender dagger. The blade gleamed with a faint blue sheen — clearly poisoned.
She walked over to Nahor, crouched down in front of him, and spoke in that soft, almost gentle voice of hers.
"You know what this is?" she asked, holding the dagger where he could see it. "It's made from the venom of Dornish sand scorpions. Just a little bit and you'll wish you were dead."
She tilted the blade so the moonlight caught it.
"First your skin starts itching like ants are crawling under it. Then the muscles feel like they're being torn apart. Then the bones… like they're being burned from the inside. In the end, you'll beg me to finish it."
Nahor's whole body was shaking. His eyes were wide with terror.
Nymeria raised the dagger toward his throat.
Just before the blade touched skin, Nahor suddenly found his voice.
"I— I don't know what you want!" he screamed, voice raw and desperate. "You've been beating the shit out of me for half an hour and nobody's asked me a single goddamn question! You want me to talk? Then ask, you crazy bitches!"
The four Sand Snakes froze.
They all turned and stared at each other.
Nymeria slowly lowered the dagger and looked at Tyene.
"You didn't ask him anything?"
"I thought you were going to ask!" Tyene shot back. "I was busy hitting him!"
"You were hitting him the whole time!"
"Because nobody else was doing it!"
Obara rubbed her forehead. "I only got here after I finished dumping the body. Don't look at me."
The four of them stood there in awkward silence while Nahor lay on the floor coughing up blood and glaring at them like they were the dumbest people alive.
Finally, Obara cleared her throat and crouched in front of him again.
"…So you're saying you don't even know what we want?"
Nahor looked at her with pure, exhausted disbelief.
"No shit I don't know! You people started punching me the second I woke up! Nobody said a single word about what the fuck you wanted!"
He was almost crying from sheer frustration.
Obara stared at him for a long second, then stood up and looked at her sisters.
They all avoided eye contact.
Nymeria finally spoke, trying to sound professional again. "Our father is Prince Oberyn Martell. We want to know where he is."
Nahor blinked through the blood and swelling. For the first time, something like hope flickered in his eyes.
"I saw him," he rasped. "That night on the Street of Silk. I was… I was at a brothel. I heard shouting outside and looked out the window. I saw a man jump from one of the upper floors. It was him. Oberyn Martell."
The Sand Snakes went very still.
Nahor kept talking, desperate to keep them from hitting him again.
"After that, the Gold Cloaks showed up. Then people carrying black hand banners came. Everyone in the city was talking about it the next day — that the Red Viper got stabbed and the Black Hand took him away."
Tyene's eyes lit up. "It is him! That bastard Corleone has him!"
Obara grabbed Nahor by the front of his expensive robe and hauled him up.
"Where is he being kept? Which floor? Which room?"
Nahor opened his mouth… then closed it.
He looked genuinely confused.
"I… I don't know."
Tyene's fist immediately came back up.
"Wait! Wait!" Nahor yelped. "I'm telling the truth! I only saw him jump that night! I don't know where they took him after that! I swear on every god in Braavos!"
The Sand Snakes exchanged looks again.
Obara dropped him. Nahor hit the floor hard.
For a long moment, nobody spoke.
Then Obara straightened up, her expression cold and decisive.
"Fine. If he won't talk, we do it the hard way."
She looked at her sisters.
"We go to the Hall of Order. We kill our way inside if we have to. We find Father ourselves."
Tyene grinned viciously. "Finally."
Nymeria twirled her poisoned dagger between her fingers, smiling softly. "I like that plan."
Sarella looked nervous but nodded anyway.
Obara turned to Nymeria and jerked her chin at Nahor.
"Kill him. Make it clean."
Nymeria nodded and stepped forward, raising the blue-gleaming dagger.
Nahor's eyes went wide with pure panic.
"Wait— wait! I'm not with Corleone! I'm from the Iron Bank! I came to collect a debt! I don't know where your father is, I swear—!"
Nymeria didn't hesitate.
The dagger flashed.
Shlick.
The blade sank deep into Nahor's throat. His words cut off into a wet gurgle. Blood sprayed across the stone floor as he clutched at his neck, eyes bulging.
He tried to speak one last time — tried to tell them they never asked, that he was just there for money, that they were insane — but only blood came out.
His body jerked once, twice… then went still.
Nymeria pulled the dagger free and wiped it on his expensive robe without any change in expression.
Obara was already heading for the door.
"Let's go. We're ending this tonight."
None of them noticed the figure standing silently in the broken doorway until it was too late.
Moonlight outlined a tall man in a black coat.
Vito Corleone stepped into the warehouse, eyes cold as he took in the scene — the dead Braavosi on the floor, the four Dornish women standing over him, and the blood still spreading across the stones.
Behind him, more shadows moved.
The Sand Snakes turned as one.
For the first time since they arrived in King's Landing, all four of them went completely quiet.