Chapter 103 103: The Crow’s Shadow in the Deep
Jorah flat-out refused Euron's offer. Once you stepped on a pirate ship, you never stepped off again. So they kept building.
Jorah had grown up on Bear Island—harsh place, brutal seas. He could swim and he could build. With Happy Sheep and Boiling Sheep helping, the boat came together fast.
They named it the White Sheep. Seemed fitting.
The next morning the sky was clear, the wind soft, the sea glass-smooth. Perfect day to sail.
Jorah and Happy Sheep took the White Sheep out. Boiling Sheep stayed behind to guard the beach.
Euron watched them through a spyglass from the deck of the Silence. He'd ordered his men to follow at a distance.
"Captain, why tail them? You should be heading back to the Iron Islands to take the throne from your weak brother," Tich said.
Euron laughed, blue lips curling.
"I've got a nose for treasure and danger, Tich. They're after something valuable on the seafloor, and it's close. We wait. Let them bring it up—then we take it."
Tich glanced at the spot where Boiling Sheep had punched one of their men into the clouds.
"Those two sheep are strong. And Mormont knows how to fight pirates. This won't be easy."
Euron just smiled.
On the White Sheep, Jorah and Happy Sheep prepared to dive. Happy Sheep held up two plain-looking stalks.
"Fish-gill grass. Eat it and you can breathe underwater. One for you, one for me."
Jorah eyed the grass, shrugged, and swallowed his. Seconds later gills flared along his neck. He dove without another word.
"Watch the boat, Boiling Sheep!" Happy Sheep called, then followed.
The ocean was another world.
Sunlight filtered down in shifting gold beams. Coral towers swayed like underwater palaces. Bright fish darted in schools, sea stars and urchins dotted the sand like living jewels. Far off, whale song rolled through the water like thunder wrapped in silk.
Happy Sheep and Jorah split up.
"Meet at that coral reef when you're done," Jorah said, pointing.
Happy Sheep swam east. Small fish scattered as he passed, deliberately avoiding one patch of reef.
He moved closer.
There it was—awakening grass. Ugly little plants shaped like sleeping sheep. He grabbed as many as he could carry and turned back.
Boiling Sheep stayed on the surface, bow ready. A massive shadow suddenly blocked the sun.
The Silence.
He ate his own fish-gill grass and dove.
On the Silence, Euron watched the small boat bob alone.
"Pull it up. They can swim home if they want. Tonight we feast on mutton."
His men hauled the White Sheep aboard like it was a toy.
Underwater, Boiling Sheep found Jorah first.
"Euron's here. He thinks we're after treasure. He's waiting to rob us the second we surface."
"Smart bastard," Jorah muttered. "We need Happy Sheep. My gills are fading—I'm going up. Stay here and find him."
Jorah kicked for the surface.
Boiling Sheep waited near the coral, scanning the water for his friend.