Sunspear
"Sister, you don't have to take such a risk. Why leave with the boy? What if something happens along the way? The Red Keep sending assassins, or the Tullys backstabbing you on their own turf?" Prince Doran tried to reason with Princess Elia one last time. She was departing today; the group would travel by land through the deserts into the Reach, and from there to the Trident.
"The tourney at least provides an excuse," Elia replied with a touch of self-deprecation. "We can pretend I was merely attending the tourney but my health failed in the middle, necessitating an impromptu stop with the Lord of the Trident. If I don't like Riverrun, I can return like the rest. Besides, the boy doesn't hold any particular emotion toward me. I observed him for the last three days; he never left his workshop, as if the rest of the world doesn't matter to him. I believe he is unaware of the annulment of my marriage and thinks I am still the Princess of the Royal family, not merely of Dorne."
Elia remembered all too well the treatment she and her mother had received across the Seven Kingdoms when they were seeking her match. After much worry, she had found her Prince Charming, only for politics to harm her again. With her failing health, she had no hope of living past thirty. If she could lessen the worries of her brothers, she felt she would die content.
"Elia! You don't have to be so cautious. I am the Prince of Dorne. I can raise thirty thousand men and burn Westeros if I have to. What is a mere Riverrun?" Prince Doran lashed out, then softened his tone. "You know me; I don't have many fond relations in life. My marriage is already tethering to an end. If I have to gamble it all, trust me—I will gamble it away for your life."
"I know. But we don't need to be pessimistic. Maybe I'll be cured on my own. Let us part, brother. If something happens to me, I'll ask the Tully boy to send my body home intact."
In the morning, the convoy left Sunspear. Edmure was surprised to see Princess Elia and her guards in their company—the women with bows he had seen on his first day. He learned they were a mercenary company from the Summer Isles. Edmure bade farewell to Craghas with a promissory note for his loan. He also shared advice on stocking up on grain for future demand in Westeros, betting that Craghas was more loyal to coin than to Varys.
"Why can't you be a normal boy? You had to pick up that beast. It stinks so much that even the horses find it appalling," Brynden complained as they moved across the desert road. The camel Edmure had chosen had startled his horse more than a dozen times.
"Don't listen to the foolish human," Edmure muttered into the camel's ear, drawing giggles from the women. "What does he know of the majesty of camels? I know you're simply looking down on those silly horses, working as mere mounts for monkeys. Unlike noble camels, who only form temporary partnerships."
Edmure had found the creature in the markets of Sunspear. The others had never seen one before and found its pungent smell off-putting. Edmure, on the other hand, had been promising the beast the moon and the stars as long as it let him ride. Eventually, Edmure bribed it with the promise of the finest saddle cloth it had ever seen, and the beast became somewhat well-behaved afterward.
For the entire journey, Edmure perched atop its back while sewing patches of clothes together. Princess Elia began to doubt her resolve; this boy seemed like a cuckoo who talked to dogs and birds. The team eventually stopped at a waystation to avoid the afternoon heat and blowing sand.
"How come you've become so sober since we last met? No lectures on logistics, formations, or unit tactics?" Brynden asked, feeling the heat might have fried his nephew's brain. He started a bit of small talk to pass the time.
"Those don't matter in the desert. Do you know the most precious thing out here?"
"Water. Shade. Foliage."
"No. It's trust," Edmure said, tossing a gold coin to the host of the oasis. "Trust is the most prized commodity and a sacred relationship. You won't find a system like this anywhere outside the desert."
"We are trustworthy across the world, but we don't have such barren places back home," the leader of the Summer Isle mercenaries noted.
"I'm not referring to general trust between people, but something transactional," Edmure explained, noticing another group approaching from afar. But being in a foreign realm, he paid no heed and continued. "The guest shows generosity and politeness to the host, and the host never breaks the promise. If you pay for shelter, they never rob you blind during a sandstorm. If you pay them for the location of waterholes, their maps don't lie.
When someone breaks this trust, the consequences are serious. Scouts who lie will have their families and villages captured, if they're lucky. Otherwise, they are simply thrown into the desert to die the same death their client faced. Trust me, it's a bad way to go. Slow, painful, always thinking, 'If only I had trusted the right person'. Enough stories. Uncle, we have company. Let's be prepared, just in case. We don't want an accident while the Princess is riding with us."
Brynden sprang into action, and the mercenaries steadied their bows. Princess Elia wondered how the boy could sense another party when she heard nothing. After ten minutes, banners came into view: purple, with a falling star and a sword.
"It's House Dayne. Princess, I heard your lady-in-waiting is from that house," Edmure shouted. Elia nodded, wondering why Ashara was coming here instead of heading directly to Harrenhal.
"Elia! It's good to see you. We received a message yesterday from your brother. We changed our route and were coming to Sunspear," Ashara said, hugging Elia while Edmure observed the contingent. House Dayne rules Starfall in the valley of the river Torrentine—a lush place, far different from the rest of Dorne. Edmure dismounted from his camel and bowed.
"Greetings, Lord Dayne. I am Edmure, son of Hoster Tully of Riverrun. My kin, Ser Oswell Whent serves with Ser Dayne in Kingsguards. We are accompanying the Princess to the tourney."
Lord Dayne watched from his steed. After a moment, he caught a glimpse of a familiar face covered by a tattered scarf. He broke into laughter. "Lad, next time just introduce yourself as the nephew of the Blackfish. He has traveled wider than your father, who just sits in his castle." He then directly addressed Brynden.
"Are you still sulking about that duel, Brynden? Why be ashamed of a mere three dozen losses in a row? Where is the man who boasted he could charm my sister? She is still unmarried; maybe we can have another go at it until you let go of such fantasies."
Brynden simply nodded, forcing a smile at Ashara. "I have truly let go of the past, Ulrick. But a duel won't harm anyone. I am ready whenever you are." His face became solemn. His trip south had been a disaster so far; if his friend was eager to help him vent, the Blackfish was more than ready.