Rohar had developed a certain appreciation for changing identities. Playing others with different identities, dazzling them while he focused on his own objectives was fun, like a battle. And, his current disguise, a Pentosian sellsword wearing a colorful cape and wielding an even more colorful spear, painted in reds and blues, with a falcon on his arm, would have been entertaining. A newly grown beard completed the set.
However, it was difficult to feel any joy, not when his companion was broken after her loss. She still followed his commands, accepting his suggestions about how to behave and act, but her joy was gone. The only thing she showed a passion for was training with knives.
He didn't blame her. He didn't have a family of his own, but that didn't prevent him from understanding how devastating it would be to lose multiple family members at once. His brother and mother not only killed but desecrated after death, father long dead, while the status of the rest of her siblings unknown…
No, Rohar didn't blame her even for a bit. Even the way she learned had been painful. Just as they were a few days away from the army, about to meet them, when they had come across a celebration of that horrendous betrayal.
Rohar had to admit, Freys, famous for being the most reviled noble family in all kingdoms, somehow managed to do something that managed to suppress everyone.
They violated the guest rights. Rohar was not an expert that could understand the full implications of such a thing, but he knew that it wouldn't be anything nice.
A sharp cry distracted him, one that came from the falcon perched on his shoulder, stirring despite its hood. Having the falcon with him had been a momentary impulse. While they were trying to put some distance between them and twins, he found the bird lying there between two rocks with a broken wing, about to starve.
Sansa's whimper was all he needed to decide to take it and take care of it, his healer capabilities were enough to fix a simple broken wing, but he had to admit, it was beneficial in many ways. The falcon, a male bird, solidified the identity of a flamboyant and arrogant sellsword, gave him a way to train his Taming during the inevitable boredom of their upcoming trip, and once he trained him well enough, it would allow him to intercept ravens, which could be shockingly useful.
Speaking of useful, his reward from … well, learning the unfortunate fate of Sansa's brother was just as useful, if a bit untimely.
[Wilderness Survival]
{Uncommon Skill: You are very skilled at surviving in the wilderness, whether that is making temporary shelter out of materials you can find, identifying safe sources of food, knowing how to track animals, how to secure your stuff, and generally everything needed to know to survive in the wilderness effectively.}
The selfish part of him was certainly glad he didn't receive it earlier. With that, they would have moved considerably faster, which meant they would be at the wedding. Maybe their presence would somehow save Robb … but Rohar doubted it.
He sighed as their destination came into view. Not a port or a town, but a natural cove, one that had been used by enterprising captains who didn't want to deal with pesky little details like calculating correct amount of tax. There was no need to calculate when one didn't pay any.
The only reason he even knew about it was Bronn, who had mentioned the location in one of his many drinking stories.
As he moved closer, he could currently see three ships waiting, each with some distance between them.
He caught Sansa's gaze, her usually beautiful face currently ruined by a distinctive birthmark he had drawn with paint, and her hair raven black. He didn't expect them to be looking at Sansa here, but there was no harm in playing it safe.
He kept his stride measured and confident as he walked up the pier, colorful cloak snapping in the wind, one hand carrying their luggage, the other spinning his spear with ease to show them he was not to be underestimated. He also didn't show the full range of his abilities.
Beside him, Sansa moved as if she was made of restraint.
A dark veil hid most of her face, her hair covering half of her face as if she were desperate to hide her birthmark. Her dress was simple but not cheap, further highlighting the idea that she was the daughter of a rich merchant. He would have loved to give her an even more unremarkable identity, but poor smallfolk couldn't afford to move to Essos.
They approached the cove, with sailors from all three ships watching him, a few even having predatory gazes; only to withdraw when Rohar caught their gaze, sneered while he stabbed the air.
One of the men who were in charge lifted a hand. "Hold there, friend. Why are you approaching?"
"Who are you?" Rohar answered in the Pentoshi accent he'd practiced before, passable thanks to his acting skill. It wasn't perfect, but perfection wasn't needed. Not when he had made sure to tell a convincing story with all the details.
"I'm the first mate of the Endless Wave, the beautiful ship you're looking at," he said, pointing at one. Beautiful was a stretch, but if he had been looking for luxury, a smuggler's cove wouldn't have been his destination.
"Aye, my friend," Rohar said, letting the vowels round, letting his consonants soften. "We are looking for a passage for Myr. Tell me if fortune shines upon us."
The man's brows rose. "Myr, eh? That's not most folk's idea of a holiday."
Rohar shrugged as if it were none of the man's business. "Do I look rich enough to go to holidays?"
His gaze slid past Rohar to Sansa, lingering on her for a while; his desire clear.
"Who's she?" he asked, suspicious but also intrigued. Sansa was beautiful even after they had done their best to make her plain.
"You're a curious sort, aren't you, my friend?" Rohar said lazily, but while he said that, he let his spear dance. "Interesting habit for your business."
"It's my business to know," he said.
"I thought your business was to make money," Rohar replied dismissively. "She's worth a hundred and twenty silver coins to you, minus a cabin, of course."
"We don't have any cabins," he replied.
"Fine," Rohar said with a shrug, and immediately started walking toward one of the other ships. His bargaining attempt was obvious, and Rohar knew that one thing he couldn't do was to look anxious. "Come, woman," he said dismissively. Sansa followed.
"None of the other two are going to Myr," he warned.
"It doesn't matter," he said. "Pentos or Braavos is also fine. We can always switch ships there." Rohar didn't look at Sansa when he answered. Looking at her too often might clue the first mate into her real importance. "She just has to struggle a bit. Not my problem." He gave a small, tired smile. The smile of a man who had escorted too many difficult clients and was already annoyed by their moods.
"Well, a cabin might have been arranged, but I have to know—" he started.
Rohar turned to him, letting his annoyance show. "You don't have to know shit," he growled. "Either you take the pay or arrange a cabin, or stop bothering me."
"A hundred and twenty is not enough," he said. "A gold dragon."
"Why don't you just rob me instead," Rohar replied dismissively. "Do you think I'm working for you? That's my whole margin."
"Nonsense," he said. "You're looking for a discrete passage, meaning she's important enough. You must have gotten at least two gold coins for it. I'm asking for one."
"Two gold coins for an escort job. Why don't you point out to me where those generous clients lie. But, since I like you, I'm willing to go as high as a hundred and twenty-six. How about it?"
It triggered a long bargain, and in the end, they settled at a hundred and sixty-five silver stags. From a material perspective, bargaining was pointless, as the money he 'borrowed' from Tyrion's room was still there, mostly untouched. He could have afforded to pay the same price in gold.
However, that didn't mean bargaining was a waste of time. Paying what the first mate wanted would have revealed the importance of his 'mission', making the sailors greedy for more.
He didn't want to keep watch for the whole trip.
"One more thing," Rohar chuckled as he twirled his spear, then suddenly stabbed it at one of the empty crates, shattering the wood with ease. "Anyone who enters the cabin without being called, I kill. No questions, no exceptions. Understood?"
"That is highly irregular—" the first mate started to speak.
Rohar let his voice drop lower, rougher, enough to awaken a primal fear. "Understood?" he repeated. They shivered.
"Understood."
"Excellent," he said.
The first mate looked at Sansa. "Is she mute?"
Rohar growled. "Was that another nosy question?" he asked. "Maybe you should retire and gossip with the fishermen's wives."
The first mate finally got the message that Rohar had no intention of letting him interact with Sansa, and walked away, shouting a few orders to empty one of the cabins for the new passengers.
Soon, they were at the cabin. "Another step, complete," he whispered.
"Yes," she whispered, still somber.
"Like we talked. Stay in the cabin, keep a chair behind the door, and don't open it unless I knock," he said. "Also, don't eat or drink anything before I check, alright?" he said. While the deal with the first mate was set, he wouldn't trust a bunch of smugglers with Sansa's safety.
He had once again changed his abilities, Hydrokinesis and Impulse active, which seemed as the best compromise between all options.
She paused. "Can't you stay inside, with me?" she whispered.
"Not during the day," he responded. He wished he could, but he couldn't "A sellsword would get bored spending all his day in the cabin, and we can't risk it. We have no way of knowing if they are still looking for you, and how carefully." He touched her shoulder, gently rubbing. "I'll return to your side at night, sneaking to your cabin instead of mine, but only when I'm sure we won't be seen," he said.
Which, considering the size of the ship, would be challenge, but he trusted his skills.
"Can I leave the cabin?" she asked.
"Not for the first few days, but once we're closer to Essos, we can," he said. He would be far more confident about escaping the ship, as even if the worst happened, he could probably swim for a few days.
Hydrokinesis was not only useful for various tricks, but also it was capable of separating pure water from saltwater, removing the biggest risk from such a move. It would mean revealing at least some of his secrets to Sansa, but at this point, it wasn't a dealbreaker.
She nodded in acceptance, but before he left, she spoke once again. "Did you name him?" she said, pointing at his falcon.
"Not yet."
"May I name him?" she said.
"It would be his honor," he said.
"Syzorys, then," she said. "It means freedom in High Valyrian."
"A beautiful name," he said, then touched his head. "Syzorys, got it. You owe Lady Sansa a big fish for the name she had given to you."
The falcon gave a sharp sound, as if he understood his comment. It didn't, but it was easy to give him a signal to nod. It was worth it, as he was happy to see the ghost of a smile on her face. One that disappeared almost immediately, but it was still progress.
"Practice your trick to pull your dagger while keeping it hidden in your palm," he told her, kissed her temple, and left. It would not only keep her busy, but it was also the most useful trick she could have.
She couldn't defeat anyone in a fair fight, but she didn't need to. No one would try to kill her. Even without knowing her name, she was still a young and beautiful woman, and any attacker's first instinct would be to capture her.
Only to get a nasty surprise.
When he walked back to the deck, the ship was already moving, dancing on the waves.
"You're moving well for a landlubber," one of the sailors called.
"Perils of my job, I'm afraid," he said, even as he caressed his falcon, newly named Syzorys. It was the first time he was on a ship that was actually on the move, his previous experience was limited to working heavy labor to unload ships. However, since his bundle of skills gave him a stable footing on surfaces far worse than the gentle shift of the ship, he justly claimed that he was used to it, just like a sellsword that traveled between Essos and the Seven Kingdoms would be.
He continued to chat with the sailors while they moved around, learning their names, habits, and anything that might come in useful. After spending all that time in the Red Keep, dancing with many spies, he knew exactly how to talk a lot without saying anything, and extract information back.
He learned their usual routes, the sailors' names and personalities, their captain's habit of gambling, and a hundred other little things that could prove to be useful.
At the same time, he examined the state of the crew. He only saw the captain from a distance; armed with a blade, but other than that, the crew wasn't particularly well equipped. Mostly sailors with large knives, several large maces and cudgels lying around for emergencies, but that was it.
But, there was one advantage to it. The ship was fast, much faster than the fat barges that most merchants used, which was another reason he picked a smuggler vessel. The distance between the Bite and Myr was almost thrice the distance between the Kings Landing and twins, but despite that, it would take merely two weeks if everything went as planned.
And that was with stops at Braavos, and Pentos planned.
Sea travel was far faster than land travel … as long as one was willing to face the risks, ranging from storms to pirate attacks.
He hummed once they reached the open seas, wondering if he could use the opportunity. "I'm bored, boys. Does anyone want to have a spar?" he said.
"Why not," one of the sailors said, and they started sparring, using sticks instead of spears. Rohar could have taken him down in one attack, but instead, he let it go for a while before he ended it up with a touch to his throat.
"A spear is not a club," he said, not missing the opportunity to correct the stance of the sailor. "You have to hold it like you're shaking hands, and leave your wrist loose."
It had multiple aims. It played to a bored sellsword angle. It was a good way to get on the good side of the crew. It also made sure that, in case of an emergency, they would be better prepared, his teaching skill would give them a far better boost than they otherwise would, even if he didn't do his best.
But, biggest beneficiary was still himself. Teaching Sansa about unarmed combat had shown him the benefit of teaching. Moreover, he would have multiple sparring partners that would accompany him enthusiastically, addressing his biggest weakness. He had studied and developed his spear style, but the practical experience he had was limited, all his real combat experience limited to ambushes.
Having multiple sparring partners would allow him to sharpen the footwork and other technical details, especially if he stopped relying on his speed and reflexes by deliberately slowing him down.
&&&
Just like that, he had found himself in a new routine, his days filled with either taming Syzorys or sparring with the idling sailors, and he spent his nights in Sansa's cabin. They didn't talk much. Sansa just hugged him, and he caressed her back until she fell asleep; which proved to be the only way for her to sleep.
Even then, her whimpers had woken up many times, and only by caressing her back repeatedly, the nightmares dissipated.
Nothing notable had happened … well, except the fact that their food had been drugged twice, and their water had been drugged once, but once he poured them out from the side of the ship without saying anything, those attempts ceased.
He didn't escalate, which was something else he had learned from Bronn about the sellsword culture. Working with other sellswords or adjacent groups like smugglers, a little 'friendly' test to be expected, not too dissimilar to knights having a spar to establish a pecking order.
Of course, knights ended up being beaten and bruised while the sellsword in question would end up with a cut throat … but that was just part of the job. Once they had arrived at Myr, they didn't even stop there for a full night. They merely stopped enough to hear the rumors of where Daenerys and her army were marching toward Yunkai.
Apparently, her ambitions hadn't slowed down by taking Astapor.
Luckily, finding another ship going to Astapor hadn't been difficult. However, they didn't go in immediately. Instead, get into a cheap inn, buy a room for a week, change their disguise to something less colorful.
One more trip, and they would meet Daenerys. And, he would see whether dragons were as magical as he expected…