Chapter 36.1- The Seadragon's Roar

LATE 109 AC

“How does it look to you?” I asked, handing the slab of glass over to Laena for her to examine. It had taken months and months of work. First it was getting the town built near Bloodstone’s new port. And then it was designing the furnace for the fire. A furnace that I had to situate in a different hamlet that the glassblowers would have to commute to and from on a daily basis to get to work, all in a bid to prevent spies from stealing my hopeful golden goose.

And then there came the trial and error of getting glass right. I knew a few bits and pieces of the process from my modern education, but what really brought it together was the admittedly basic expertise of the freed slaves when combined with the scientific method and room to experiment. It was glass, not rocket science, and now we had succeeded. Succeeded in a massive way.

“Laenor, gods, this is so clear. It doesn’t even feel like I am looking through anything. How could this be? Is it sorcery?” She asked, peering at it like it held secrets that she could uncover by glaring at it hard enough.

“Not at all. Just really good science and a lot of work” I said with a sigh.

“So what does this mean? Does this mean no more negotiating with Dorne?” She asked.

“You’re way too eager to go burning their coasts” I said with a smile on my face.

“They have it coming. They’ve just been wasting our time and dillydallying.” She said. I nodded.

“Well, the Prince of Dorne has, but he is not the only high born in the Kingdom.” I said.

“What do you mean?”

“Qoren Martell believes himself untouchable. After I sent Uncle to Sunspear to negotiate, he moved out of the palace and now resides at an anonymous occasion. He probably assumes that if I don’t know where he is then I will be less likely to attack Dorne proper. And if I even do, then it won’t matter because as long as I don’t cut off the snake’s head then it can keep living and come to bite me later”

“I assume you used the word believes because you’re working on something to get your hands on him” She said rather than asked.

“Of course I am. Who do you take me for? The Prince of Dorne will be dead by year’s end or we will burn all the castles we can before the crown steps in. We can’t really claim that we’re waging war with the leave of the writ for long after the year runs its course, or claim that Dorne presented a threat to the Stepstones if we wait much longer and time just passes without them doing much, if anything.”

“So we have to move soon, then” She said, nodding.

“Sweetheart, I made the first move months ago. Qoren Martell just hasn’t realised what game it is we are playing.” I said, accepting back the slab of glass.