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P.O.V. Daenerys Targaryen
The beginning of the eleventh month of the year 299 AD.
The main tent of the Mother of Dragons, the outskirts of Meereen, Slaver's Bay.
It came as quite a surprise. The fact that the Great Lords of Meereen would be ready for a siege was no surprise to me. I had easily conquered two cities that were as strong as they were. But I hadn't expected them to hire three large mercenary forces at once, as Ser Jorah had assured me. Years of wandering around Essos had given me a lot of knowledge that a lady or queen could never have. One of them was mercenaries and their device. I was well aware of the difference between the upper and lower echelon, not only in strength but in price. The same Raven-Briars, now commanded by Daario Naharis, were famous only for having horses and knowing how to use them, and were so-so warriors. Their prices were accordingly.
But as for the Rosa's and Ironclads... All these units were made up of strong and experienced warriors, in addition, well organized and equipped. According to Master Illyrio's words, which he once said when he returned angry from a meeting of the Pentos Magisters, even the deposit to hire them often amounted to the annual income of a medium-sized city. And the fact that there were two of these units here made it seriously difficult to take the last stronghold of the slave traders, which besides them would be defended by the Sons of the Wind and about four thousand fighting slaves and guards.
Thank the forgotten gods of Valyria, all of this was just an unpleasant precipitate against the backdrop of good news. First, I was joined by my father's former royal guard, Prince Lieven Martell. This alone had many advantages, from the smallest - according to Ser Barristan the Dornish was a fine and loyal warrior, to the fifteen hundred loyal mercenaries sitting outside the walls of Meereen.
Secondly, the Ironclads, the most "problematic" unit that could stand up to even my Unsullied on equal footing, were led by the sister of a red-eyed, arrogant blond. But I have to admit, it was complicated. Perhaps I could use the letter Lyon had left me to lure a select group of mercenaries to my side, or at least to keep them from coming to the aid of the slave traders from Meereen. From the moment I saw the eldest daughter of the Tempers, however, one question had been bothering me....
«Ser Jorah, what do you know of Elaine Temper and her band of mercenaries? This is the first time I've ever seen a woman warrior, much less the captain of a mercenary force.
«Of course, Khaleesi. - He nodded briefly in response, only hesitating for a moment before beginning his story. - She is the eldest daughter of Lord Felix Temper and the second of his four children. She is rumored to have inherited much of her mother's looks, a pureblooded Volantian Valyrian from beyond the Black Walls. Unlike most of the ladies of Westeros, she has a difficult temper, as most Dornish women do, and is quite fiery, for which her father sent her here to Essos, away from the politics and intrigue of the Seven Kingdoms. She is now considered one of the best commanders among the Essos mercenaries, and her skill, strength, and incredible battle rage make her one of the most unpleasant opponents on the battlefield.
«That's true. Our Mero, even though he called himself invincible like a Braavo titan, was running away from that woman with his heels glistening. She was a wild beast in sheep's clothing, not a woman. - Brown Ben Plumm nodded in agreement, sitting on one of the small sofas, cleaning his nails with a sharp dagger, not bothering too much with manners. - But what she was good at was leading her warriors into battle. More than once and more than twice she had turned other mercenaries and Dothraki who could not hold back the iron wave. And the Ironfoots themselves are willing to follow her into the seventh hell. So the Bloody Jackal was wrong to expect Essos to beat the crap out of her. Now she's only gotten more confident and stronger, and she's got a small army to go with it. And if the rumors are true, and the Tempers are constantly changing the composition of the Ironclads, letting all their warriors serve in them, then I'm afraid of how many she can raise with a word.
«What are the odds we can win her over to our side?
«It's hard to say, Khaleesi. - Jorah, who was now standing over a table covered with maps and manuscripts, pondering our next steps, said thoughtfully. - They are an established and reputable unit, hired because they not only have good training and equipment, but also a reputation that is not inferior to that of the Gold Squad.
«It all depends on what the letter says. - Ser Barristan added weightily, drawing everyone's attention to himself. Earlier, he had been careful to stay out of such conversations, trying to do his best to protect me. - According to some of the lords I've spoken to at Red Castle, the House of Tempers is one of the strongest and most united. Spider had complained to the Small Council several times that it was impossible to send spies into the castle itself or to provoke a rift in the family if necessary. Still, Felix had managed to foster in his descendants a love for each other that often does not exist even in simple families. Even a legalized bastard would not be refused help by her legitimate children, nor would she herself refuse them.
«A legalized bastard? - I asked in surprise. I knew from the stories of the late Ser Willem that such things were rare in the Seven Kingdoms and almost always frowned upon, regardless of lord status. The memory of Aegon the Unworthy's Great Bastards and the Blackfire rebellions that arose from them was too strong. - You didn't tell me about the bastard, Ser Jorah.
«It's a well-known story in the Seven Kingdoms, especially among noble ladies. The girl was raised in the house on equal footing with her own children and educated equally with them. There was even a scandal when the Tempers' second son, Alaric, killed one of the Swann knights when he started molesting an illegitimate child.
«This is Dorne, Your Majesty. - Ser Barristan remarked, stroking his newly trimmed beard. - I myself come from the House of Harvest, which is in the Dornish Marks, and I know much about this land. In this southern kingdom, bastards, mistresses, and women of unworthy behavior are treated much more leniently than in the other six. And the reason is the closer connection to Essos, where the commandments of the Seven are neither observed nor honored. Not to forget their Rhoynaran roots - many in Dorne have honored the Lord of Rivers and Waters or the River Elder since the burning of ten thousand ships by Nymeria. But in terms of religion, House Temper stands out even there. They are the only family south of God's Eye to believe in the Old Gods.
«The Old Gods? - I asked in surprise. Unlike my brother or the other heirs, I had not received the proper education, and I knew of my ancestral home only from Ser Jorah's sparse stories and words. The only thing I knew of religion in the Seven Kingdoms was the Church of the Seven, brought there by the Andals during their great migration. - What faith is that?
«The Old Gods are the nameless and faceless nature spirits worshipped in the North, Khaleesi. - Ser Jorah, who was himself from that land and knew of it far better than Ser Selmy, took the floor. - Worship of the Old Gods is one of the oldest religious cults in Westeros, practiced by the Children of the Forest before the First Men came and adopted it later.
«Children of the Forest? - I asked again, hearing a new word for the first time all day.
«They were the first inhabitants of the continent. - With a sad grin, the old bear answered. - They existed back in the days when your ancestors grazed goats on the slopes of the Fourteen Fires, the first Giskars were just beginning to capture their first slaves, and Essos and Westeros were linked by a wide passageway-the Hand of Dorne. According to legend, they were mighty magicians who received their power from the great spirits of places and phenomena, called the Old Gods for their primogeniture. And the First Men, hoping to gain a modicum of that power, adopted that belief from them.
«You speak Andal as if you had seen all these wonders yourself and knew what power these forest children possessed. - Naharis, who had been sitting on the sidelines drinking a healing potion to relieve the pain of his broken arm, intervened.
«These same "miracles" can still be seen to this day. - Without paying attention to Daario's words, Mormont replied. And that was surprising - he usually reacted more emotionally to his teasing. - The Children of the Forest were gone, but the Hammer of Waters, which had turned the land between the North and the rest of the kingdoms into impassable swamps, and the Hammer of Desolation, which had broken the arm of Dorne, cutting the two continents off from each other, were still remembered. And traces of the magic of the First Men can still be found - the same Tempers are rumored to use the magic of the Children of the Forest, commanding the winds and birds, sailing to any place in the world with no problem. As for the cult of the Old Gods, it has no temples or clerics, no sacred texts, and virtually no rituals. The Old Gods require only one thing: faith and reverence. Nature, beasts, rivers, forests, fields, mounds... They teach you to live in peace with yourself and the world around you, without demanding anything in return.
«But they are only trees, which do not carry any divine origin. - Ser Barristan interrupted the Northman. - Your Majesty, most of your subjects believe in the Seven, and you, as their future ruler and suzerain, should know their aspirations and prayers.
«There are no septons in Essos, Ser Barristan. - Jorah said with a grin, folding his arms across his chest.
«I know the Book of the Warrior by heart, and I have the books of the Blacksmith, the Father, and the Unknowing with me. That will be enough to give her majesty the basics of the faith of her homeland.
«Then I will tell her of the faith of the Old Gods as well. - Mormont said, ignoring Selmy's displeased look. - The North is comparable in territory to the other six kingdoms, and Khaleesi needs to know about the traditions and customs of this part of her people.
«I don't want to distract you from lofty topics, but we need to do something. Because of the recent heavy cavalry raid, our and the Great Lords' forces are now equal. - Ben Plumm interrupted the already-ready squabble between my two loyal companions, turning the attention of everyone present to a more pressing topic. - If that ram carries out his threat and fights us in direct combat, we have a good chance of winning. But if they defend the city walls, then you, my queen, will have no choice but to besiege Meereen and wait for a famine to break out within the city.
«Out of the question. - I said stiffly, standing up from my chair and glaring menacingly at the dark-skinned mercenary. - This whole campaign was to save the slaves the Great Lords have been oppressing and killing for generations. And in the event of famine, they will be the first to suffer. We need another way out.
«But there is no other choice, Queen. - With a serious look at me, Plumm said. - Either we stand under the walls, waiting for the Meereenese to try to break the siege, or we storm the walls and wash ourselves in blood, as your ancestors did in the first Giskar-Valirian wars.
«We could try going through the old catacombs. - Suggested little Missandei, who was sitting in the corner of the tent quietly sipping fruit juice. - I heard from some slaves in Yunkai that it was through them that some of the fighters who competed in the Battle Pits escaped three years ago.
«It's useless. - Plumm spat unhappily. - I myself once escaped through them, and I sent my men to check those passages at once. All the more or less important tunnels are sealed off by men from the Rosa Druid and the remaining ones by the Memory Warriors. Even if Martell lets us pass through, only ten people will be able to pass through unnoticed.
«Then what should we do? - I asked my advisors, hoping to hear a suggestion that could change things in our favor. But there were no ideas. Neither Ser Jorah, who had always given me plenty of advice, nor Ser Selmy, who had fought all the wars of Westeros in the last fifty years, nor Ben Plumm and Daario Naharis, who had trampled the floor of Essos with their troops, could offer any.
«Misa. - Until the council was interrupted by an Unsullied named Marcelen, who was Missandei's older brother, entering the tent. - A man had come from the city. He called himself Prince Levenn Martell and asked me to escort him to you.
«Let him in, and quickly. - I said as I began to smooth out the creases in my hiking dress from long wear. The others were ordered to clean up and prepare to greet the guest. Leaven Martell was one of the people who could change the situation in Slaver's Bay, and it was best to make a good impression on him.
P.O.V. In the third person
The beginning of the eleventh month of the year 299 AD.
A suburb of Meereen, the Bay of the Slave Traders.
«I see, don't worry, captain. Everything will be done properly. - The tall, stocky man, who was one of the lieutenants in Lieven's mercenary squad, said confidently. The fact that his men had followed him even in such an unreliable venture pleased the Dornishman, who was already past his prime.
«Thank you, Mahor. Neither I nor her majesty will forget your loyalty. - Confidently and without a trace of doubt, Prince Martell said to the Lhazarian, whose eyes became clearer for the first time in a long time.
No, he was not blind or infirm, but his soul had long been torn by old wounds. Once upon a time he had been the son of the glorious Martell family, lords of the Dornish wilderness and lords of one of the finest castles in all of Planethos, the Sunspear. Together with the green vineyards and gardens that surrounded it, the vast blue sea, and the golden desert visible from the upper floors of the Tower of the Spear, it created what Lieven had considered home from his first conscious thoughts.
Home...
That simple word made his old heart bleed. He loved Dorne and his family like no one else, and it brought him unbearable pain. In the distant past, true to the path of chivalry and vassal oaths, he had forsaken his clan and taken a vow of eternal service. With a single vow, he traded the luxurious chambers of the Sun Lance for a humble cell in the White Tower, forever giving up simple family happiness. He accepted the white cloak and became a Kingsguard of Aerys II Targaryen. Lieven was proud to wear the cloak and serve the dragonlord family while protecting his favorite niece, who was as dear to him as his own daughter.
To his shame, he had not been by the king's side during the rebellion of Twilight Dome. His kidnapping and imprisonment was an insult not only to the entire country, but to all the White Cloaks personally. After all, it was they, the seven greatest warriors of Westeros, who were supposed to keep the peace of the royal family and be the first to take both sword and poisoned dagger for him.
It was then that he first heard the name of Felix Temper, a simple merchant who had become a lord and had come to the king by order. He, along with Barristan Selmy, his old comrade and friend, had rescued the king from captivity and prevented the vile rebels from harming him in any way. At this point, Lieven was proud that it was a Dornish lord who had accomplished such a great deed. He sincerely welcomed the brave newly minted knight that Temper had become in the square in front of Baylor's sept and congratulated him. Then he truly believed that Temper deserved the great honor of being knighted by one of the greatest warriors of all the Seven Kingdoms.
When the Baratheon rebellion had risen, he had been full of strength and determination to defend the king and his family, despite all the madness that was waking up in Aerys by the day, to his last breath. Yes, Leawen, like the other Kingsguard, disliked the Mad King, but he remembered his oath and believed in his son, the Silver Dragon Rhaegar Targaryen. So he followed him bravely and without regret to the decisive battle with the rebels that took place at the Ruby ford.
His house also supported the rightful kings and sent troops. Then Felix Temper brought them and without hesitation placed them under Lieven's command, concerned only with their sustenance and provision, relieving him of much worry. For this alone, Martell was grateful to Temper and allowed him to be his deputy, helping to bring about a great victory over the rebellious Baratheons, Starks, Tullys, and Arryns.
But it all turned to dust. Temper, having masterfully deceived everyone around him, even the "all-knowing" Varys, betrayed the king.
He and his subordinate Dornish, who were actually a bunch of Essos mercenaries, stabbed Prince Rhaegar in the back and thus allowed Baratheon to win that battle. After all, if the Last Dragon hadn't been preoccupied with a breakthrough on his right flank, he would never have lost to the foolish and reckless Baratheon!
But the outcome was the same. Rhaegar was killed at the Ruby ford, and his niece and her son followed him, dying at the hands of Tywin Lannister's men who decided at the last moment to betray the king.
Returning then to Dorne Lieven tried to call for vengeance for Elia and a just punishment for Temper, but his nephews would not allow it. For it was they who, persuaded by the accursed Westerner, had decided to betray the Targaryens to supposedly save their sister. And when they learned of her death and the children, they did nothing. N-I-C-H-H-O. Didn't even dare to justly punish Temper by depriving him of one of his four offspring. Unable to bear it any longer, he left Dorne and the Seven Kingdoms, traveling to Essos and becoming captain of a mercenary unit, dreaming of finding the last Targaryens or dying in peace in a foreign land.
Right now, more than fifteen years later, he had more or less cooled down and calmed down. His seething hatred and despair had paled into a deadly blade of hatred and anger, safely hidden in the indestructible sheaths of calm and patience. Yes, he still hated Felix Temper for what he had done, but he knew and understood far more now than he had then. He had forgiven his family for their betrayal. He had said goodbye to his dead niece and grandchildren. He had long ago let go of all his past, which had left terrible and unhealing wounds on his soul.
But now everything had changed.
He finally had a chance for redemption. Redemption not only for himself, but for his family and his home. After all, he was still a White Cloak and had honored his oaths and vows. And now his life and loyalty belonged to only one person - Daenerys Targaryen. Mother of dragons, blood from the blood of ancient Valyria, the Last Dragon and rightful heiress to the Iron Throne.
And he was not the only one! Beside her also stood his old friend and comrade Barristan "Brave" Selmy, who like him, in his long years of service to the Usurper, had not forgotten to whom he had truly sworn allegiance. His presence warmed the old Dornian's soul and gave him hope for a good and bright future. However, whatever that future might be, he intended to be faithful to his oath as a Kingsguard and to the lineage of the rightful kings of Westeros and its last representative, Daenerys Targaryen, to the end.
Right now, after giving final orders to his men, he made his way to Daenerys' troops, taking advantage of the unguarded and long-unchecked gutters of Meereen. He was allowed into the army's camp after introducing himself and was escorted to the Queen's tent. Well, or Khaleesi, as she was called by some of her warriors who were Dothraki. Otherwise, most of her army was made up of Unsullied. Just because of what he had seen on the way to the Mother of Dragons' tent, he estimated her troops to be around fourteen thousand men or more.
As Lieven stood at the very entrance to the tent, he still hesitated to enter, burdened by thoughts and memories. There was too much in this step that would open a new page in his life. And it made his palms shake involuntarily.
After a moment, however, he pulled himself together and confidently entered the tent of the future ruler of Westeros. Inside, besides the queen herself, was her inner circle, as Martell realized. Among them was Ser Barristan, already familiar to him, who had grown old over the years of separation. But his eyes still shone with kindness and honor, as if he were the living embodiment of the Warrior who had come down to earth. There was also Brown Ben, commander of the mercenary squad of the Younger Sons, who were quite famous in Essos, though not in the best of ways. Sitting next to him was Daario Naharis, one of the commanders of the Storm Ravens, who was rumored to be the sole head of his squad now. The remaining unknown to him were the tall and thin Unsullied, shaved bald, a small black-haired Naatian girl, as was clear from her eyes and the shape of her face, and a large Nordic man, who was clearly visible that he was not far behind Lieven in age.
«Greetings, your majesty. - He said confidently, kneeling before the last of the Targaryen family. - I, Prince Leawen Martell, royal guard of your deceased father, swear absolute loyalty to you. Henceforth, my life and sword belong to you forever.
«I am glad you are here, my friend. - She said in an affectionate voice with a slight smile. - Rise, Prince Lieven Martell, I accept your service. We have much to discuss before we storm the city.
«Yes, my queen.
«Did you come here alone, or with your men? - Plumm asked him gravely, warily inspecting every piece of his clothing.
«My men have remained loyal to me and followed me. Once the assault begins, they will help capture the city. - At these words, the rest of the people present nodded approvingly, and some sighed in relief.
«In that case, our main problem right now is the Roses and the Ironstones. And if we can negotiate with the latter, we can't avoid a fight with the former. Do you know what forces are currently guarding the city?
«Yes, Your Majesty. Rosa's band of 3,000 swords ready to follow their leader into the Dark Ages. The Iron Stoppers have a little more, three and a half thousand, but they are better equipped and armed. Also, we must not forget the Sons of the Wind, under the leadership of the Oborvanz Prince. They are not one of the five strongest units in Essos, but two thousand mounted and foot mercenaries are also a serious force. The slaves and gladiatorial fighters that the Great Lords can field in great numbers aren't even worth mentioning. - Her majesty frowned at my last words, which was not surprising. There had been rumors about her in Essos for a long time. Including how she hated slave owners and sympathized with slaves. - Even without the Ironclads and the help of my men, it will be a hard fight. Ten thousand soldiers on the walls and towers will be a serious problem, but once your warriors break through them, it will be over. Only the warriors of the Rose Druid will be able to put up a proper resistance.
«Thank you, Prince Lieven. Thanks to you, I now know what awaits us in the assault.
«It is my duty, Your Majesty.
«Khaleesi. - A swarthy-skinned man, who, judging by his clothes, was a Dothraki, entered the tent without warning. After a brief bow to the queen, he continued. - A man from the city has arrived. He says it's from Lady Temper. Shall I let him in?
«Yes, show him in. - The white-haired girl, who surpassed even her mother, Queen Reila, in her beauty, said majestically, and the unnamed northerner and Naharis began to quickly remove maps and other important papers from the table, realizing their value. It spoke better than any words of their considerable military experience. After a couple minutes, the tent's fabric folded away and the envoy stepped inside.
Within ten minutes the royal camp was buzzing like a beehive stirred up by an inexperienced beekeeper. Everyone was getting ready, checking armor and weapons, for the words spoken by the captain of the Ironclads gave us a chance to take the richest and largest city in the Bay of Traders almost without loss of life
P.O.V. Elaina Temper.
The beginning of the eleventh month of the year 299 A.D.E.
Hall of a Thousand Pleasures, Great Pyramid of Meereen, Meereen, Bay of Slavers.
«Friends and comrades! Let us raise our cups and bowls for victory! Let this white-haired bitch, who calls herself the Mother of Dragons, die a painful death with the blade of a Meereen warrior in her chest! - Loudly, hardly breaking his voice, said Aznok zo Pal, holding in his oiled and greasy hand a cup filled with wine, almost entirely composed of rubies and emeralds of different sizes and cuts.
«To the painful death of the white-haired bitch! - The Great Lords present shouted furiously in response, clinking their golden goblets, splashing expensive Volantian wine on the floor and tables.
«To the painful deaths of shallow fools. - I said, taking a small sip of my wine from my goblet and glancing irritably at the light silk dress I wore instead of my usual comfortable armor.
The Great Lords of Meereen were a degenerate people. Four hundred years ago, when the Doom of Valyria had rumbled across the world, their ancestors, petty Giskar aristocrats who had survived all five wars and preserved their lineage, had taken control of the three largest cities in the Bay, becoming the current Great, Good, and Wise Lords. They were able, despite the attacks of the Sarnorians and Dothraki, to lead their lands to prosperity, turning them into a world center for the slave trade, providing for their descendants for generations to come.
By the present time, they had all degenerated. And those weren't my thoughts - those were my father's words, after a letter came to him five years ago about the destruction of the Galar family.
Father's old friend, Grazdan zo Galar, was a very good businessman. One might even say incredibly good. But by increasing and strengthening the power and authority of his house, he stood out too much from the general mass of other Lords, becoming an unknown and incomprehensible figure to them. And what a shallow man cannot understand, he tries to destroy.
The entire Galar family, including Grazdan himself and his children, Kvetsa and Grazdar, were killed by the guild of the Pityers, assassins from neighboring Kvarta and fighting slaves of the strongest clans of the city. The only survivor was Galazza Galar, the old High Priestess of the Temple of Grace, left alive only because of her inability to continue her lineage and her unwillingness to quarrel with the High Priests of the Bay of Slave Traders.
"A swamp that crushes anyone who doesn't fit its mold," I thought as I glimpsed the fat Aznok walking toward me with his ram nephew, who was still hiding his cheek, swollen from my blow.
«Lady Elaina, it is a great honor for this humble Lord to welcome the daughter of the Bastard of Fortune himself, Felix Temper. - He said with his ever-so-sweet smile, causing me to have a major fit of irritation. This fat pig, who did not even hide his lustful gaze, saw in me only a daughter of the Temper family, through marriage with whom he could strengthen his power. Not a person, but a thing he would control in the "future". To use my father's nickname was almost an insult.
"If you, lard-belly, think that I don't know about those letters you send to my father, matchmaking yourself or your ram-nephew, you are very wrong" - I thought, discreetly running my eyes around and getting even more angry - there were no mercenaries around that I could use to get rid of these clingy people, so I had to start a high-born conversation. - Well, I'm honored that the great Aznok zo Pal himself has honored me with his attention.
«Aha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha... - He laughed his fake and disgusting laugh, making me do my best not to squirm, or, Gods forbid, not to spit in his fat face. That's how you can live in this viper's den, where the mask now on senior Pal's face becomes almost a second persona, and cruelty, lies, hypocrisy, and personal selfishness are prioritized.
"I want to go home. I miss my mom, my little sister, my brothers and my dad too much" - I thought, still keeping a mask of indifference on my face with a slight smile of indifference.
«Good, good... The others were wrong when they said that only barbarians lived in the Sunset Kingdoms, unable to understand the great culture of Ancient Gisa. - Continuing to smile, he replied. - 'When do you think this lying creature, by the Great Harpy's foolish mistake of managing to give false hope to the slaves, will be in chains in this hall?
"Short-sighted idiot," I grumbled mentally, even feeling a little sorry for Reed, who'd spent the last hour telling that swine's brother that Meereen couldn't hold a siege for long. But it suited me just fine. - She would be in this hall soon enough, but not in chains and shackles, but as the victor of this city.
To say that my words created a veritable veil of silence nearby would be an understatement. It was as if the entire Hall of a Thousand Pleasures, with its drinking, smoking, talking, and fucking Gentlemen at their tables, had grown quieter, focused on the conversation between me and the informal leader of Meereen.
«Good joke, very good. - Paul said, trying to break the tension a little. - There is no force in the whole world that can take the greatest of its cities!
«Only you don't have to take it. - In my coldest possible voice, I said, interrupting the attempt of those present to applaud and applaud my patron's phrase. - I'll echo my comrade in arms - Meereen can't hold a siege for more than a week. You hired our troops as soon as the news from Astapor arrived, but you've forgotten about the food that needs to feed the nearly six hundred thousand people living within the walls of the city. Without supplies from Lhazar, Tolos, and Aelyria, everyone here will starve to death very quickly. Or, more likely, will be slaughtered by hungry, freedom-hungry slaves. And if you're hoping for the same situation with the Mother of Dragons, then all the food that was coming to you will now be at her place.
There was absolute silence, where the gazes of everyone present were directed only at me. The most interesting thing was that they were not expressing anger, rage, or disagreement, but incomprehension. Most of the Great Lords of Meereen could not imagine that their city would be taken, that they would be in need of food, or that the slaves would revolt. Only a few people my age had the realization in the back of their eyes that they were in a deep hole, but there was nothing they could do about it. Not everyone was lucky enough to be born into a family with an intelligent and understanding head, like my father, and the only thing they could do was try to survive the mess that had begun and keep some crumbs of their former power.
«You little shit! - Oznak zo Pal shouted angrily, his swollen cheek preventing him from speaking properly. - How dare you say such a thing! That we, the chosen nalod of Mielin, should lose to some upstart from the clay of the world?! No one would dream such a thing in their wildest dreams!
«You should have kept your mouth shut, Oznak. - I said mockingly, stealthily putting my hand behind my back and pulling out a stiletto from under the waistband of my dress. - A sheep like you can't be trusted not only to command an army, but to guard a flock of sheep. You'll fuck them all.
My last words were decisive. He started to lose his temper at the word "sheep," and at the hint of his unhealthy love for animals he lost the rest of his self-control. On the one hand it was a blow below the belt - his hairstyle in the form of two ram's horns was a long tradition and said that its bearer was the heir to the family of Fields, but I needed to take him out for the realization of my plan and it was necessary to stab him as painfully as possible.
«Die! - Pal yelled, pulling a long dagger from his belt and trying to stab me in the face. If he hadn't been drunk, and I was ready for something like that, I'd have been lying on the floor in a pool of my own blood. He ended up shoving my head out of the way of the dagger and swiftly stabbing me in the forearm with his stylus.
«Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!
The result was a Guiscarian screaming in pain on the floor, not even bothering to remove the blade from his hand, the Great Lords in mute shock, and Aznok zo Pal, pale as death, with a flame of rage and anger flaring in the depths of his eyes.
«I think I will go. - I said, taking a piece of white cloth from the nearest slave and wiping away the blood on my hand. - The night is dark and full of terrors, and when you add a dragon queen to the mix, it's best to be prepared.
Ignoring the clamor, I walked through the main gate of the hall, and, with a finger of my finger at the two guards, headed down the stairs, toward the exit. I had to hurry - Paley's men would be quick to act, and I had to be ready to answer them properly.
- How did it go? - A short, black-haired man asked me, holding his bow tensely in his hands.
«Not bad, Uncle Robin. The Pali will not let this go unanswered. We can go now. - I said, climbing into the small wagon, where I had already prepared a change of clothes. The dress was beautiful but uncomfortable. You can't fight in it, nor ride a horse, nor walk normally.
«I wish I had your confidence. - My father's peer and old friend, who was the true head of the squad in times of peace, said tiredly. A skilled archer, a good logistician, and a master of the Crows, he had led the Ironclads for many years, having been their first captain and founder.
«For them, it is a matter of honor. After such a public humiliation of their heir, they will have no choice but to punish the offender by washing their shame away with blood. - Having said that and once again, looking at the named uncle, I felt a small rush of shame.
"And who am I telling this to?" - I thought as I slipped the dress off my shoulders in a few movements. It was Uncle Robin who had thought up and carried out most of the plan. All I had to do was get any Great Lord who was not the last in the city to attack me, giving me an excuse to break my contract and sail off to Westeros with no loss of reputation. Three and a half thousand soldiers were far more needed there now than in this godforsaken bay.
The only reason I've said all this is because of one very unpleasant trait in my uncle's character, developed, according to my father, because of his failings, which first haunted the Ironclads after their founding.
Incredible insecurity.
Robin constantly doubted all his plans and actions, which for a mercenary squad leader was fatal. It was for this reason that Volkan was his deputy in the early years of the squad's existence, and then I became his deputy, guiding and preventing the experienced and not stupid commander from killing his talent.
And as practice showed, his plan worked once again. As soon as my carriage with a small guard drove into one of the dark alleys in the port district of the city, we were attacked by a large crowd of fighting slaves, carrying the symbol of the Paley family on their collars.
"Incredible fools," I thought as I jumped out of the wagon and slashed the throat of one of the attackers with a sword.
«Mistress! Careful! - Shouted one of the swordsmen, standing a few steps in front of me, shielding me from the attacking enemies.
«Don't get in my way! - I shouted irritatedly, pushing him away easily and with a light lunge I pierced the throat of another battle slave. I didn't worry about my men - unlike the slaves, who wore only simple cotton pants and light skimmers, they were clad in the strongest armor from head to toe and armed with swords of the finest weapon steel. Because of this, the battle quickly turned into a massacre, with the attackers quickly swapping places with the defenders. The reinforcements, hidden in one of the nearby warehouses in case the Pali decided to use their few Unsullied, were left to finish off the remnants and keep the lucky few from escaping.
«Are you okay, Elaina? - My uncle, who was the only archer here and had been shooting the fastest slaves from the roof of the wagon since the attack began, asked me.
«Not bad. - I answered, wiping my bloodstained hands once again. - On to the harbor?
«That's right. - Robin nodded, walking over to one of the corpses and plucking an arrow from its chest. - I've already signaled the attack. By midnight, the Paley Pyramid will be slaughtered, and we will sail home from the city.
The signal was the fiery arrow my uncle sent into the sky at the very beginning of the attack. Already, five hundred swordsmen, along with their wargs, were rushing into the pyramid of one of the wealthiest families in the city, killing everyone in their path. There were four reasons for this - official "revenge" for the attack on me, looting the coffers of the world's richest slaveholders, and signaling Daenerys Targaryen to take action. The last motive, however, was the most important to me: my father's request.
The Pali were the ones who had gathered an alliance against the Galar, personally destroying their main family. My father asked that if possible, I harm that family as much as possible, but not to the detriment of relations with Meereen. But the power of the current Great Lords is coming to an end, and I doubt that after the Mother of Dragons they will remember their differences with our house.
By morning, Meereen was already in flames. On the main pyramid, crowned by a huge harpy statue covered in a thin layer of gold, a black flag with a red three-headed dragon was flying. The coat of arms of House Targaryen.
Daenerys Targaryen, Mother of Dragons and last of the Conqueror family (p.a. I spelled it right, it will all become clear when Elayne and Rhaenys meet) has taken the last city in the Bay of Slavers.
«She's fast, though. - Said Liu, a tall young Ethiopian who had survived the pirates of the Basilisk Islands as a boy and had joined the Tempest army when it was first forming. And who had risen to commander of my personal guard of fifty Black Guards.
Now all three and a half thousand Ironclads were safely ensconced on the decks of forty transport ships, specially built to carry a detachment that included not only men, but horses, wargs, and plenty of food for long voyages. Though most of my ship's vaults were filled with sacks of gold, silver, and copper stamps found in the treasury of the pyramid of Paley. I'm not talking about the three chests of gems and jewelry at all.
«What did you expect? - I asked mockingly, lightly punching my almost friend on the shoulder. - Not only were there fifteen hundred of Leaven's men in the city, but we slammed the door loudly before we left. I'm more surprised at what Targaryen took so long.
«The scorcher knows her. - Liu grinned, shrugging slightly. - Where are we going now?
«Home. - Answered, casting one last glance toward the distant city, which looked very ominous and intimidating against the rising and rising thick columns of smoke. - We are needed there. As my father used to say, in the Game of Thrones, anyone can be the game changer.
***
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