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The sea was calm today, and there was not a breath of wind in the air. Talla sat on the deck with her little pile of mending beside her, watching her father walk restlessly up and down and turn to stare occasionally up at the flags above Lordsport. Normally the wind kept them snapping high, making the shoal of little silver fish look like it was moving over the green field, but now they all lay slack against the poles.
"It's unnatural," he kept mumbling to himself.
Talla did not reply.
After Lord Theon had left the Myraham, discarding her like so much trash, Father had railed at her, stormed and wept, had even struck her once or twice before he lost the heart for it, and swore that she deserved no better than to be turned out to beg for her bread in the gutters of Lordsport. He had sworn that as soon as they returned to Oldtown he would pack her off to a motherhouse, for no decent man would have her for a wife any more.
As the months passed, though, and Lord Greyjoy's commands kept them stuck at harbor, his anger had seemed to drain out of him like water from a cracked jug, until he and Talla had learned to be somewhat cordial toward each other.
But they had lost the knack of talking idly together that they had once had. and she was well aware it would never return, like so many other things. Once she had been the kind to chatter on to anyone at all; nowadays more often than not she held her tongue. Once she had been proud to always sail with her father, and looked forward eagerly to every new port they'd visit; now she only wished she could be back in Oldtown once more.
And watching her father pace like this made her feel uneasy, so Talla turned away from Lordsport and looked out instead at the other ships at harbor. This had always been a busy port, but now it was so full one could hardly see any clear spaces between the hulls, for Lord Greyjoy had been strict about keeping any ship which came hence from departing, lest they carry news of what was happening on the Iron Isles anywhere else.
There were all kinds of ships at anchor - fat-bellied Westerosi merchant ships like the Myraham, the sleek sharp Ironborn ships which always reminded her of barracuda, ragged little fishing vessels, many-masted Braavosi carracks with their acres of crisp white and black sails, and the motley assortment of ships which flew the flags of the Triarchy cities.
For whatever reason they had come and what port they called home didn't matter anymore, because they were all under the sufferance of the so-called King Balon now. It had helped them become friendly neighbors here out on the water, at least. The Myraham's sailors had a merry time hopping from deck to deck and spent most of their free time visiting with the crew on other ships.
Occasionally someone on another deck would wave at Talla too. There were women on some of the other ships, some of them even respectable, that she might have made friends with. In the past, she'd have waved and smiled back, but nowadays she would merely duck away and pretend she had not noticed. She was terribly grateful for the amount of mending there always was to do, because it had become her chief occupation. If the Myraham's sailors ever became careful of their clothes she did not know what she would do with herself.
The other chief pastime of the sailors aboard the trapped ships was gossip, but Talla could not bear it. If the gossip wasn't concerned with the war raging across Westeros, it was about House Greyjoy, and she did want to listen to either, for all of it reminded of Lord Theon Greyjoy, and he reminded her of all her love and her ambitions, and how they had all come to nothing.
Now as she stabbed the needle through the cloth she reminded herself that she hated him, she hated him, she hated him -
Someone whistled up from the dock. At first, Talla ignored it, figuring it was some sailor wanting to be let back on board. But after a hurried conversation looking down from the ship's rail, Father turned back and called, "Come here, Talla. Lady Greyjoy is here to speak to you."
She should have known better, but her heart hitched a little in her chest anyway.
Lord Balon's wife was still alive, but they'd been in the Iron Isles long enough that Talla knew when one talked of Lady Greyjoy on Pyke, it was Balon's daughter they meant. Lady Asha Greyjoy, third-born child to the lord and his lady wife - and Lord Theon's older sister.
She had even seen her before, back in that first misty month when Talla had still been fool enough to pace the deck and try calling out to Lord Theon when she saw him walking down below, though he had always hurried away as though he'd not heard her. She had seen him accompanied by Lady Asha several times, though at the time she hadn't realized who she was. Talla had even thought from their easy familiarity that she was Lord Theon's new lover, and only later learned the truth.
She should have known, though. They had the same dark eyes and hair, the same tall, slim build, the same roguish grin, like a pirate in a tawdry romance. But there was an assurance to Lady Asha's manner that Lord Theon had never had, though he had pretended to have it. Talla had thought herself close to him because she had noticed.
"Talla!" Father called again. He had a fixed smile on his round face. He had come to hate House Greyjoy by the end of the journey from Seagard, but he was still afraid of them, and conscious of the respect he owed them. At least, thought Talla as she crossed the deck, this Greyjoy did not have a part to stick inside her and shame them all further.
And then she was at the rail beside her father, looking down on Lady Asha. She was dressed unnaturally as usual in boiled leathers and a grey doublet with a golden kraken emblazoned across the front, though her hair had grown out a bit to brush the top of her shoulders. She had the folds of her heavy black cloak drawn tight around her shoulders, despite the relatively mild day. For once she was unsmiling.
Talla attempted a curtsey, though how much of it could be seen from the dock below she did not know. In her heart she wanted to turn and walk away and pretend that she did not know any Greyjoys. If she were a highborn lady, she would smile a thin smile, inform Lady Asha that she was unwell, and wish her a good day and leave, and she would do it in a very cutting way, though she could not think of precisely the words she would use.
But Talla was a captain's daughter, and Lady Asha was the kraken's daughter, so she was forced to smile pleasantly and ask, "Lady Asha, it is an honor. Shall I come down to the dock, or would you like to come up here?"
Father gave her a sidelong glance; Talla knew which of the two options he would prefer. But Lady Asha said, "Come down here, girl. I will have words with you."
At least she did not seem angry. What words she wanted to have, though, Talla hadn't the faintest clue. She had not spoken to Lord Theon after that horrible moment he'd rejected her embrace before he left the Myraham. She hadn't even gone into Lordsport more than once or twice with her father. And the last that she had heard, Lady Asha had been away conquering the North with her brother. Why was she back on Pyke, and why was she here, looking to talk with Talla?
Father tossed the rope ladder down over the side, then helped Talla up onto the rail so that she could clamber down. He was a little slow in letting go of her hand. She could sense his nerves as plainly as if he'd expressed his worry aloud, but she tried to smile reassuringly in response. Her heart seemed to race all the while she climbed down. If Lady Asha was back, could her brother be accompanying her? Did he remember her? Had he asked after her?
But then, sternly, Talla reminded herself that Lord Theon did not care about her. And there was no way that he'd have sent Lady Asha, of all people, to fetch her to him, even if he had wanted her to come. When in her foolishness she had begged to be made his salt wife, he had been very clear that he wanted nothing more to do with her. But that had been months ago, before he'd turned away from the Starks' cause and gone to war in his own name -
And none of that had anything to do with her.
The first thing that she noticed about Lady Asha was that she wasn't as tall as she would have expected - indeed Talla was a little bit taller than her. But she felt small anyway as Lady Asha looked her up and down - small and afraid, a mouse at the mercy of a hawk.
"Are you having my brother's baby or not?" was the first thing she said. "I can't tell."
Talla squawked. "Milady - no! No, I am not with child!"
In her shock she'd been louder than she should have. Up above she glimpsed Father ducking back out of view, his face turning red. She prayed fervently that no one on the other ships was paying them any mind.
Lady Asha's gaze followed hers to the deck of the Myraham. "Come walk with me," she said, unexpectedly pleasant. "No, not very far - just a little down the dock. I shall return you to your father afterward, with no harm done."
As though she had a choice. But maybe Lady Asha, like her brother, preferred to persuade rather than command. The gods knew Talla had fallen into his bed easily enough, before she even truly understood what it would mean, all because he had been kind. "A little ways down the dock," she agreed.
And so they did stroll a little in silence, Lady Asha studying her, and Talla working very hard not to study her back. It was difficult, though. The ships they passed now were all familiar to her, and she kept comparing Lady Asha to the image of Lord Theon she held still in her mind's eyes. They both had that arrogant air about them, but strangely she thought Lord Theon was the more beautiful of the two. Talla, who had a weakness for beautiful things, be they the goods her father traded or people, had noted it about him the moment he'd stepped foot aboard at Seagard.
Finally, Lady Asha broke the silence. "You could be pregnant," she said, thoughtful. "You're tall and plump enough to hide it well. I know you wouldn't say it in front of your father if you were hiding it, but I bid you tell me the truth now, and be not afraid."
If she was going to speak plainly, then Talla would try and repay her in kind. "I am not pregnant."
"I said, tell me true," she insisted. "Did you drink moon tea, to keep a child from catching? I heard you laid with my brother often enough that there could have been one."
Talla could feel her face flush hot, the heat running down even onto her neck and chest. "There was no need, milady. There was no child. The - the seed did not catch.”
Was that the answer Lady Asha wanted? Had she come expecting to provide for her brother's bastard? On the day Lord Theon had left her, he had boasted that she should be proud if she found herself with child, that it would be a king's bastard that her father would help her raise. King of where? she'd wanted to demand, with the one hard, disbelieving part of her that had not yielded in her love. With what coin? What's blood to a bastard?
Sometimes in weak moments she still wanted the babe anyway, something to remember him by, but she was not so stupid as to on the whole be sorry about it.
Lady Asha stared hard into Talla's face, like she meant to determine the truth for herself. After a moment, she turned away and buried her face in her hands.
Talla, startled, ground to a halt beside her. Was Lady Asha weeping? For a thoughtless second she forgot that this was the kraken's daughter and not one of her young cousins back in Oldtown, and wanted to take her in her arms and comfort her. Then her senses returned, and she turned her face toward the sea and waited, watching a sailor climb the tallest mast on one of the Braavosi ships until he was a mere speck against the brilliant blue of the sky.
When the muffled sound of sobbing ceased, Talla turned back as though she had grown bored of watching the ships. Lady Asha's eyes were red-rimmed, but her mouth was set in a hard, flat line.
Without preamble, she said, "I fear that my brother is dead."
She said it so flatly that at first Talla did not even catch her meaning.
"Lord Theon has taken Winterfell," Talla protested. "All Lordsport was talking of it. He has taken Winterfell, and you have taken Deepwood Motte. You are conquering the North."
Lady Asha's smile was like a shark's. It did not reach her eyes.
"My foolish brother indeed took Winterfell - and I told him that he should have stayed with me, for I knew he could not keep it. Who wants Winterfell anyway? Ruled by children, and so far from the sea. A poor prize, and an unworthy one. But he had to go. He had to see that it would be the direwolf flag flying in the shadow of the kraken, after all those years the other way around. And now Winterfell has been put to the torch, and all I found when I searched were corpses being eaten up by wolves. If any of them were Theon's I could not tell."
A strangled noise rose to Talla's lips.
She thought of Lord Theon, months ago as she had first seen him at Seagard. He had been so beautiful in his doublet of black and gold, his cloak fastened over his shoulder with a silver kraken pin. His black hair had been thick and glossy, his eyes dark as night, and he had been smiling to himself as though making some private jest.
But when he had told Father about the purpose of his journey, he had been proud just like a little boy. Even when he'd been cruel to her, it had been the thoughtless cruelty of a little boy, and Talla had never been able to blame him. She had wanted to comfort him. She had wanted to protect him. And when he took her in his arms and stroked her fine hair after they'd coupled for the first time, her love for him had felt as boundless as the sea.
Lady Asha did not do her the courtesy of turning away as she cried, but watched so avidly you'd have thought Talla's tears were some kind of balm to her.
"You know," she remarked, "I think you are the only person I've seen weep for him."
Talla, sniffling, swiped at her eyes. "Not even his mother?"
"Haven't you heard? My mother's quite mad. She doesn't even remember that her first two sons died in my father's rebellion - what would she understand about Theon now? And -" She hesitated, then shut her mouth as though she had thought better of it.
Talla seized on it eagerly. "And perhaps he's not really dead? You did not find his body, milady. And he's a puissant warrior, I am sure. Perhaps he has escaped with his men, or he's been taken hostage? They wouldn't kill him, he's a lord!"
Lady Asha shook her head firmly, but the way she pursed her lips belied the movement. "I expect it was some northern house or another that he fought," she said. "If they had taken him hostage, they would have told us by now. They're stiff with honor, they are. And besides, I still hold Lady Glover and her children at Deepwood Motte. They would have tried to offer him to me, if only for Lady Sybelle's sake. No, he must be dead."
She wanted to protest again. Lord Theon simply could not be dead. She did not want to believe it. She would not believe it.
But there was no point in gainsaying a highborn lady. She promised herself that that very night, she would make her father take her to the sole sept in Lordsport, and pray for Lord Theon's safety. She would have to be content with that.
And she understood now, why Lady Asha had sought her out. If Lord Theon was dead, then any child he might have had with Talla would have been the very last trace of him left alive. For that, she felt almost sorry to disappoint the lady. He hadn't had any other bastards, lusty as he was. His famously honorable foster family would have disapproved.
She did not know what to say to Lady Asha. Offering her sympathies would be trite, and probably presumptuous as well. And she knew Greyjoys were proud enough to spit in her face if she tried to offer them pity.
So she curtsied again, somehow more clumsy on solid land than aboard ship, and turned a little bit to intimate that she would now be making her retreat.
Lady Asha’s hand lashed out to grab her arm.
Talla, astonished, raised her eyes to Lady Asha’s face. She, looking similarly surprised, dropped Talla’s arm as though it were a red-hot brand, then starting walk back down the dock. “I said I would return you to your father,” she said.
“Yes, milady.” There was no reason for Lady Asha to explain herself to the likes of Talla, and they both knew it.
“A lady always keeps her word. I suppose you small folk are less concerned with such things.”
“Yes, milady.”
It was only now that they had turned around that Talla saw what a distance they had walked along the quay. They had gone so far that she could hardly make out the Myraham amid all the other ships at anchor. It had been months since she’d been so far from the ship, and guiltily she thought it had been nice to stretch her legs a bit. Her brain already felt clearer.
“Did you mean it?” asked Lady Asha suddenly.
“Milady?”
She flapped an impatient hand. “I know my brother told you about salt wives. He said that you said you wanted to be his.”
Talla remembered. She had prattled on at him about baking bread and making peppercrab stew, as though that would have convinced him to not leave her, as though he cared about such things. She had imagined working in Pyke’s kitchens by day, all so that she might creep up the stairs and lay beside him in his bed at night. She nodded.
“He thought you lacked seasoning,” said Lady Asha. “That you were soft and bland.”
“Oh, did he?” mumbled Talla. Yes, she could believe it of him. He had only been passing the time with her, after all. When he had talked to her it was only to talk of himself. When he laid with her, he only made sure to please her because it was pleasing for him. And when he’d looked into her eyes, it was only to assure himself that someone, anyone, loved him.
Well, milord, she thought, you’ve helped season me a little more with my broken heart.
“Now, salt wives aren’t so common any more - ” Lady Asha was saying. Did she think what Talla wanted was a history lesson?
She couldn’t help herself any longer. “Funny what you said, milady,” she interrupted. “What Lord Theon said, about me wanting seasoning. You’d have thought it was him who did, since he’d been gone so long in the North. Did you know, milady, that I was born aboard that very ship, the Myraham? And it was in a storm, too. Where was Lord Theon born, I wonder?”
Lady Asha was staring at her like she’d suddenly grown wings. “On Pyke, of course. Same as my elder brothers and I.”
“My mother died soon afterward,” Talla continued as though she had not heard. “As Father could not bear to part with me, he always took me along on his journeys. We went to ports all up and down the Reach and Wastelands mostly when I was younger, but soon we were setting out for the Iron Islands, the North, Essos even. And I have ever loved the sea, and never wished to be parted from it. So when a man in Oldtown asked for my hand in marriage, I turned him down, because he would not let me sail anymore.”
“Salt wives don’t go sailing,” Lady Asha pointed out. “They stay home and birth salt sons and daughters.”
Talla knew. Talla had known even then. “I loved Lord Theon even more than the sea, so I would have done it for him. But now -”
“But now?”
There was a sardonic edge to the smile Lady Asha wore now. It was the smile that you gave a young child or a small pet, and it infuriated Talla so much that she lost her head entirely.
“Now that Lord Theon is not here, and now that I have been properly seasoned - now that I am no longer a maiden and will never wed -”
She flung out an expansive arm. “I shall sell my share in the Myraham, and I shall buy myself my own ship. A trim little Pentoshi caravel I think, and I shall name it the Cyrenna after my mother. And in it I will sail to the Free Cities, and then I will sail past the Jade Gates to Yi Ti and to Leng. Perhaps I will even go to Asshai-by-the-Shadow, if the fancy takes me. And when I return to these shores, it will be with my ship riding low in the water, for its hull will be filled with gold and jewels, with spices and with old arcane books. I will sail into Oldtown, and I shall hold an auction of the likes the world has never seen.”
“Will you?”
Talla shrugged. “You certainly don’t know me well enough to know if I could.”
She expected another noble would have been offended, but Lady Asha was iron born, and was used to small folk who talked freely. What would have Lord Theon have thought of her, she wondered, had she talked like this to him?
She knew he would have laughed at her.
Lady Asha laughed too, but Talla did not mind it so much. It was the first time since they’d met that day that she’d shown any real amusement. “You would have been Corlys Velaryon come again, if you had it your way. And you would have given it all up to be Theon’s salt wife?”
“Yes,” she answered.
There was something strange about the deadness of the wind and the sea, Talla thought. With no breath of wind, the air seemed to heavily on her. Lady Asha wiped the sweat from her brow and said, “You know that he isn’t worthy of such devotion?”
“I know, milady,” replied Talla. “And yet you came here to seek me out, a mere merchant captain’s daughter, in the hope that he might have left his child in me.”
Lady Asha laughed again. “So I did. But Theon really couldn’t do anything right, not even once in his life.”
They had drawn close to the Myraham now. Talla could see her father, standing watchful by the rail, though his gaze darted away when he saw she had seen him looking. She really had given him such grief, after twenty-five years of being a dutiful daughter, and she herself still did not fully understand why she had lost herself so, only that she could not control it. She knew he would ask her what Lady Asha had wanted to talk about, and did not know what she would say in reply.
“I’ll be sailing for Deepwood Motte tomorrow,” said Lady Asha, more serious now. “It’s not a rich prize by any means, but my lord father says it is our foothold in the North, and so it shall be so. But while I am there, I will keep searching for my brother. And I mean to find him. Do you understand? Whether he is dead or alive.”
Alive, prayed Talla. She would give anything for him to be alive. She did not even care if she never saw him again, so long as he would be found whole and hale. She would light a candle in the sept, she would make an offering to the Drowned God. She would go through all Braavos on her knees and worship before each of its many gods, if only Lord Theon might be safe.
She wanted to tell all of this to Lady Asha, but the lump in her throat was so big she could scarcely breath around it. She settled for nodding.
There was a great thump as Father let down the rope ladder, and the lower rungs thudded against the dock. Talla jumped. Lady Asha, shielding her eyes to look up at him, remarked, “He seems to be in quite a hurry to have you back. But then, you did say you are his only child.”
“He doesn’t mean to be rude, really -”
“I know,” said Lady Asha. “He must not like being stuck here in Lordsport.”
“He is eager to get his new cargo back to Seagard,” said Talla cautiously. “I believe it is a load of iron, and he fears that the longer it lays in the warehouse, the more likely it is some other captain will steal the commission from him.”
“The petty squabbles of merchants.” Lady Asha gave a dismissive shrug. “I’ve never troubled with such things, myself.”
Then she leaned close, and looked Talla straight in the eyes.
No one had ever looked at Talla like that before. Lady Asha’s eyes were black like a starless night, like the deepest depths of the sea, and they seemed to sear through her. A memory came to mind. Lord Theon had told her once that House Greyjoy was said to descend from the Grey King, who had slain Nagga the sea dragon and taken a mermaid to wife during the Age of Heroes. Right then, she would have believed it.
But then Lady Asha took a short step back, and Talla gasped for air like a swimmer straining for the surface. She was being foolish. It was not some kind of sorcery with which Lady Asha had been holding her fast. It was simply a grim and desperate determination.
“Should I find my brother,” she said, “I think he will need nursing. He has a knack for making enemies, and I don’t expect they will have treated him kindly. So when I find my brother, I shall send for you, captain’s daughter. I think you, at least, will always be loyal to him.”