VI.

                                    

                                          
CHAPTER SIX
[ dorne ]

                            

                                
                            
                              
                                  
                              
                              
                                
                                  
                                  
                                
                              
                             
                            
                            
                          
                          
THE ROAD TO DORNE WAS LONG AND PERILOUS. It was a long journey from Greywater Watch to Sunspear, and the road was crawling with lions and flayed men. Visenya travelled with Howland and a small party of his men to the coast on The Bite, where they paid for passage on a ship to Sunspear. 
The ship, called The Mother's Mercy, was a modest vessel, but large enough to carry all of them. The captain was a kind enough man as well, though his crew was made up of a variety of unsavoury types. 
On the journey, Visenya swiftly learned that she adored sailing. She, unlike some of her companions, never once fell ill with seasickness. In fact, she often perched herself on the edge of the side of the ship, dangling off the edge and hanging on by the rigging. With the harsh wind tearing through her hair, pulling it from its braids, and tasting the salt on her tongue, she felt truly free.
It took weeks to finally reach the capital of Dorne, though they could feel it in the air when they got close. Dorne was unusually hot, the warmth hanging in the air and weighing on the shoulders. The sun was in the sky unobstructed all day, and Visenya felt as if her skin was melting off of her bones. Growing up in the North had done her no favours when it came to the heat. 
It was all worth it when they reach Sunspear. The capital city was gorgeous, so golden and full of the kind of greenery that can only survive in the heat. The palace was even more so, the few details of gold sparkling in the sun, while the rest, made of smooth white stone, made for a much more modest castle than any in King's Landing. 
The Mother's Mercy docked in the Sunspear port, and the small party paid for a few horses to ride to the palace. They rode through the city, and, strangely enough, it almost reminded her of home. Of Winterfell. 
Not because of the weather, nor the style of buildings or the manner of dress, but because of the people, the common folk. They were. . . happy. Content, and well fed, well taken care of. So much like the Winterfell of her childhood. 
As they rode, Visenya beside Howland, she found herself wondering. "Lord Reed," she said, getting his attention. "How many men does Dorne possess?"
"If all of the Martell's bannermen answer their call?" At her nod, he pondered the answer for a few moments before answering. "At their full strength, Dorne commands some twenty-thousand men."
Twenty-thousand. The same number Robb had. "Enough to win the war?"
"Enough to show your strength," he replied. "Enough to win you more men, when the Realm sees who you are."