“The Second Sons have faced worse odds and run. At Qohor, when the Three Thousand made their stand. Or do you deny it?”  “That was many and more years ago, before the Second Sons were led by the Titan’s Bastard.”  “So it is from you they get their courage?” Dany turned to Ser Jorah. “When the battle is joined, kill this one first.” 

The exile knight smiled. “Gladly, Your Grace.”  “Of course,” she said to Mero, “you could run again. We will not stop you. Take your Yunkish gold and go.”  “Had you ever seen the Titan of Braavos, foolish girl, you would know that it has no tail to turn.”  “Then stay, and fight for me.”  “You are worth fighting for, it is true,” the Braavosi said, “and I would gladly let you kiss my sword, if I were free. But I have taken Yunkai’s coin and pledged my holy word.”  “Coins can be returned,” she said. “I will pay you as much and more. I have other cities to conquer, and a whole kingdom awaiting me half a world away. Serve me faithfully, and the Second Sons need never seek hire again .” 

The Braavosi tugged on his thick red beard. “As much and more, and perhaps a kiss besides, eh? Or more than a kiss? For a man as magnificent as me?”  “Perhaps.”  “I will like the taste of your tongue, I think.”  She could sense Ser Jorah’s anger. My black bear does not like this talk of kissing. “Think on what I’ve said tonight. Can I have your answer on the morrow?”  “You can.” The Titan’s Bastard grinned. “Can I have a flagon of this fine wine to take back to my captains?”  “You may have a tun. It is from the cellars of the Good Masters of Astapor, and I have wagons full of it.”  “Then give me a wagon. A token of your good regard .”

  “You have a big thirst.”  “I am big all over. And I have many brothers. The Titan’s Bastard does not drink alone, Khaleesi.”  “A wagon it is, if you promise to drink to my health.”  “Done!” he boomed. “And done, and done! Three toasts we’ll drink you, and bring you an answer when the sun comes up.”  But when Mero was gone, Arstan Whitebeard said, “That one has an evil reputation, even in Westeros. Do not be misled by his manner, Your Grace. He will drink three toasts to your health tonight, and rape you on the morrow.”  “The old man’s right for once,” Ser Jorah said. “The Second Sons are an old company, and not without valor, but under Mero they’ve turned near as bad as the Brave Companions. The man is as dangerous to his employers as to his foes. That’s. None of the Free Cities will hire him any longer.”  “It is not his reputation that I want, it’s his five hundred horse. What of the Stormcrows, is there any hope there reenex facial?”