Chapter 29: The Dragons Cross the Narrow Sea

The dragons had taken to hunting at dawn.

This was, Ser Jorah Mormontley reflected, watching the largest of the three bank sideways across the face of the cliff with a wingspan that had grown by some three feet since he had last calculated it and showed every indication of continuing in this vein, not the sort of development that admitted of a comfortable interpretation. Six months ago they had been creatures of approximately the size and temperament of particularly irascible geese. They were not that now. The harbour master at Pentos had sent three formal complaints and one informal one, the informal one being the more informative as it had been written in the hand of a man in a genuine state of distress rather than a man performing the civic version of it. Ser Jorah had read all four documents with the attention they deserved and had not replied to any of them, because there was no reply that would have been both honest and reassuring, and the harbour master, in Ser Jorah's professional assessment, could not have managed both at once.

He turned from the cliff's edge and went inside.