Hey guys MadTargaryen is back with a new story!
I have to say, I am pretty excited about doing a one-shot series on my Game of Thrones story The Other Prince. It's an idea I have been wanting to do for some time and now I have the chance to get it started. Here I will be posting various one-shots and drabbles, basically things that won't make it into the main story or events mentioned in the main story that wasn't fleshed out usually due to straying off topic.
The ideas that get posted are not in any particular order, just whatever comes to mind for me. That's the beauty of a one-shot series!
So, I know that I am notorious for my inconsistent updating but what I have realized in working on this one-shot chapter is that when I am not restrained by following a certain direction like I do with the main story and just free write a chapter, I can work much faster and get these chapters posted as quick as possible. I am not saying that a new chapter will be posted every day or even every week but I will most likely be much quicker in posting on this story than I will with the main story when I am motivated enough.
Alright, I believe that is all I have to say for now. I do have some more news regarding the one-shot and the future postings but I will discuss it in the end chapter notes. So, please check it out when you are done reading this chapter.
Without further ado, here is the very first chapter of The Other Prince One-shot stories.
The Other Prince One-Shots
CH.1
The birth of Deaths Bastard
The sudden jolt of his body forced Silas to wake from his sleep. It was his first good sleep he had in days since being knocked unconscious and forced onto the ship after his family sold him to a slaver.
It still felt like a bad dream, a nightmare that he couldn't wake up from. He always felt like that when he woke up day after day in the ship and much like every day, he was hit with the bitter reality of the foul smell that permeated the bowels of the ship and the not so gentle rocking of the waves that hit the vessel. No, this definitely wasn't a bad dream.
His tired eyes focused to the depressing scene around him at the men and women and even children were all sitting against the ship's walls, hands shackled and hanging from a hook on the low ceiling.
From up above them, Silas could hear commotion from the crew on the deck as they stomped about.
"What's going on?" Silas asked quietly. His voice was hoarse and throat sore and dry from lack of water.
The question was for anyone to answer but the guy across from him was the one to respond.
"Reckon were gettin' ready teh dock." he gruffly responded to the former Prince. "The ships slowin' down some."
Silas' heart skipped a beat at the man's words and his emerald eyes widened in shock. Quickly, he turned his body around to the walls of the ship and stared through the small hole in the broken wood to see if it was true.
The bright sun made it difficult for him to see the outside world after being in such a dark space for so long but sure enough, he could see land just a few miles away from where they were sailing.
As they moved closer to the city, Silas could see the walls that protected the city and a large statue of a Harpy perched atop of one of the towers. So, they were docking somewhere in Slavers Bay, Astapor, it would seem by the red bricks that made the wall and the buildings of the city towering behind.
Silas turned around and slumped back to his seat, dread filling his very being. This was it for him, the end of the road. Once they docked, he would be purchased by someone to live the rest of his days at someone's beck and call, to be done with as they pleased. If everything he heard about being a slave is true then if he was lucky, he wouldn't be purchased at all and quickly be killed.
The door to the deck opened, shining the bright sunlight through the square opening. Not long after did a man, the slave trader that bought him, came walking down the wooden ladder.
Most of the slaves cowered in his presence and they rightly should. Omdek zo Luqizn was a cruel man to them all. He considered himself better than most and especially the slaves that he sold off and proved it by various ways. Mostly it was hitting them, whips or clubs or setting the guards on them. He refused to even touch them, thinking it would sully his status. Often it was calling them names of all sorts. It was anything he could do to demean those who end up getting purchased by him.
The slaver looked around the dirty foul smelling quarters at his 'inventory' lined against the ships walls. A wide toothy smile crept on his ugly flat face. His hands intertwined together behind his back as he swaggered further into the room.
He wasn't alone though. Coming down the wooden ladder behind him was a small group of bulky guards heavily armored and brandishing their weapons at the prisoners. Few of the guards frightened them by raising their weapons at them for amusement.
Omdek's beady eyes made a beeline around the dank quarter until he made contact with the glaring gaze of Silas Baratheon that Omdek couldn't help but smile in return. If there was thing he was going to miss from this trip, it was tormenting the former Prince. More than once he was tempted to just keep him rather than sell him but the price for royalty was far too much to pass on.
Since finding out that his business partner had acquired the Prince, Omdek has done everything in his power to make sure Silas understood his new status in the world. It was something he did with all of his prisoners but Silas earned a special kind of attention from the slave trader that made enduring the already terrible travel even worse. However, much to Omdek's surprise, Silas was far more resilient than he imagined and no matter what torture he put the disgraced Prince through, Silas didn't break.
"It appears our journey is at an end." Omdek announced in his native Ghiscari tongue as he strutted down the middle aisle of the room, his eyes never breaking contact with Silas as he continued to smile that arrogant smile on his ugly face. "And soon you will all be given to lovely homes and scatter to the winds. So please, enjoy this time that you have left together while my men prepare you all for when we dock."
With a snap of his fingers, the guards stepped to a prisoner and unlocked their shackles from the hooks they were hanging from and transferred to two long heavy chains. Omdek instructed the guards to fasten the slaves on to the chains into two groups.
As one of the guards began fastening Silas' manacles to one of the chains, Omdek took advantage of the situation and walked up to the former Prince, invading his personal space.
"I am almost tempted to keep you."The slaver murmured with a smirk as he spoke in the common tongue. "Having royalty wait on me hand and foot would be almost worth passing on the gold I would receive from selling you."
Silas closed his eyes on his disgusted face and prayed that Omdek's need for gold was greater than his own personal desires.
"But I am a business man and must put my job over my wants and you, my Prince, will fetch me a fine price where I am selling you."
Once he was through speaking with the former Prince, Omdek turned away from the glaring emerald eyes and to his guards where he snapped his fingers at them to lead the slaves out of the bowels of the ship and up to the deck where they were all greeted by the hot blinding sun.
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Being the first city that travelers come to in Slavers Bay, Astapor certainly did a good job to make an impression. Especially the new slaves arriving to the city.
Silas and the new group of slaves he was chained to passed through the open gates of the red city. What he saw when he first entered was a horrible sight to behold.
People, slaves to be precise, were being tortured in various vicious ways that made Silas' stomach turn. He saw a slave being whipped bloody while locked in a pillory while forced to wear a metal bridle around his head. Looking up at one of the walls he saw slaves hanging in body shaped cages, some dead or slowly dying in the hot sun.
"The Plaza of Punishment!" Omdek gleefully announced to his inventory over the screams of slaves being punished. "Here is where bad slaves go to be taught a lesson." The slave trader pointed upwards to the wall where bodies in various forms of decay were hanging and severed heads here mounted on spikes along the walls with birds pecking at the flesh for food. "And sometimes, teach a lesson to the other bad slaves."
Silas kept his head down as he passed by the poor souls that ended up in this terrible place. Looking down though wasn't much better as it was stained with blood and even body parts that had yet to be picked up if they were at all. Silas wanted to close his eyes from the sight but he feared he would trip over a severed body part.
Once they crossed through this hellish foul smelling place, they were met with a portcullis that slowly rose up to give them access to the rest of the city that awaited them.
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Astapor was a culture shock for Silas, to say the least. The People the city everything about it was so different that he felt like he was in a whole different world. The common tongue seemed to be nonexistent as he passed by the citizens of the city. He was thankful to have learned the language and caught snippets of conversations as he was marched through the red city.
Another thing that was a shock to him was the seeing the slaves. They walked around like submissive dogs behind their owners. Head down and eyes looking at the ground, collars around their neck, some even with a thin metal chain held by the slave owner as they walked down the streets.
It was a terrible sight that absolutely disgusted Silas. People being treated like animals rather than a human being. Even more, it made him angry that this was going to be his life from now on until the day he died. Looking at these poor broken souls, he could only hope that he dies soon with his dignity still intact.
Once they got to the center of the Market, Omdek halted the two rows of slaves in between the large round fountain and the wooden stage where he and the others will no doubt be presented to the crowd to be sold off one by one.
Rarely did Silas feel so embarrassed as he did now with the Astapori people watching him chained to the other slaves standing in the center of the busy market, pointing at snickering at him and the others.
Not wanting to look at the people, Silas chose to focus his gaze somewhere else while he waited and chose to examine the statue in the fountain. The monstrous bronze statue was that of the twenty foot tall Astapori Harpy perched on a pillar by her eagle-like talons on her feet. Her bat-like wings spread wide as she smiled down at the passerby's revealing her pointed ivory teeth at them and her scorpion tail curled behind her. She might've looked gorgeous in her early days but the years have weathered her looks into something barely recognizable. What Silas still found impressive about the statue was her heavy set of breasts that the fountain water poured from. Now he couldn't be sure but Silas caught the faint smell of brimstone coming from the fountain water.
"Let's move!" Silas heard Omdek yell at them. Confusion set in as Silas watched the slaves he was chained to begin to follow Omdek away from the wooden stage where the other group that he sailed with stayed behind in the market place and began to file onto the stage.
What the seven hells? Silas thought to himself as he felt the manacles on his wrists tug at him when the chain connecting him to the rest of his group, forcing him to move forward with everyone else as they continued through the Plaza of Pride.
"What's going on?" Silas queried at the slave trader when he managed to catch up to him. "Why are we leaving the market?"
"Your mother's orders." Omdek replied back smugly. "Her concessions to this trade were that you were to never be able to find a way back to Westeros and I could sell you for whatever price I wish."
"So why are we leaving the market?" Silas asked again. He was slightly hurt by this new revelation of the deal his mother made with the slave traders but wanting to know what was happening now was far more important than his feelings.
"Your mother wanted your trade to be as discreet as possible. Another concession to the deal we had." Omdek sighed in annoyance. "I just happen to know a man in this city that I can sell you off to and make a lot of gold in the process. He is always in need of new slaves."
Silas didn't like the sound of that. A man that always needed new slaves? What in the seven hells did he need a constant supply of new slaves for? What did he do to the ones in his possession?
All these questions and more kept swimming in his mind, making him feel panic as they walked further out of the Plaza of Pride where the other slaves he sailed with were beginning to be auctioned away.
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It wasn't long before Silas figured out where they were being taken. The towering structure of one of the city's fighting Arena's was visible over the other buildings of homes and markets that surrounded it, grew bigger as they marched closer.
It was when he saw the sight of the structure that his questions were answered. The potential buyer purchases slaves for the fighting pits.
So, this is my fate, Silas chuckled at himself. To be executed in front of thousands as entertainment.
Silas knew he should've known better. A life of servitude wasn't what his mother had in mind for him as punishment. No, she wanted him dead so he could never return and lead a rebellion against her and Joffrey, but couldn't do it or bear witness to it herself. So she sends him across the Narrow Sea to let someone else do it for her. Most likely so it won't look like kin slaying for her beloved Joffrey. The both were already hated after chopping off Ned Starks head and plunging the Seven Kingdoms into another Civil War, she doesn't need any more hatred from the people if they were to know that she killed her eldest son that was actually respected by the people of Westeros. If that were to happen, the people would likely rise against her and Silas would be a martyr and his death their rallying cry.
Silas smiled at the thought that even in death, he could still cause his mother and brother so many problems, even more so than in life.
The former Prince was brought out of his thoughts when he heard a few prisoners he was with gasp. Glancing at his surroundings, he saw another horrible sight to behold.
Slaves, men and women both were nailed to posts that lined the walkway like a barrier. Their bodies covered head to toe in blood from the many whip marks they received.
Just when he thought human beings couldn't be any worse, Silas is proven wrong. These poor people were not only whipped bloody but nailed to the posts by their hands and feet and left to die in the burning hot sun and even worse, displayed for people to pass by and see their shame.
Silas was impressed with the tall circular structure of the fighting pit. Calling it a pit would be an understatement. It might have been one when it was first built, just a hole in the ground for slaves to fight in as a form of punishment or to see if the boys brought to them had the potential to become Unsullied soldiers.
However, the Astapori saw the fortunes Meereen got from their gladiatorial entertainment and decided to do the same as well. Fixing up the fighting pits, the Astapori built a large oval shaped stadium above the fighting sands to seat thousands of spectators to pay and watch men women and even children fight each other or the beasts they captured from the wild.
The stadium was empty when Silas and the other slaves were led through the arena. Today must not have been a tournament day.
Hearing the sound of wooden swords meeting made Silas look down at the fighting sands where he could see slave fighters practicing for their matches that would soon come. Some practiced with each other on their moves while others practiced alone with the make shift dummies of various sizes.
Silas stared in awe as he watched them fight. Their fighting styles were amazing, the movements the stances, he had never seen it before, not even in the melee tournaments he attended.
Staring at them, Silas couldn't help but be a little afraid of what he was seeing and was worried that his swordsmanship might not help him when he sets foot on the sand.
My mother could not have picked a better place to have me killed, the former Prince thought to himself as he watched the fluid movements of one of the fighters take down two of his opponents.
"Keep moving!" Silas heard one of the guards snap at him before pushing him forward. He didn't realize he had been slowing down until the guard had snapped him from his own thoughts.
It wasn't long before the slaves were brought to their destination. The sands of the arena. Under a canopy sat a bald olive skinned man watching the slaves practice with his body slave standing beside him with a jug of wine in his hand ready to pour his master another cup on command.
Omdek raised a hand to halt the line not too far from the canopy, the guards with them yelled the same order at the slaves and they all did as they were commanded and stopped walking any further and a couple of house guards standing at attention.
"Kraznys my old friend!" Omdek joyfully greeted the Astapori master as he walked over to the canopy, taking refuge from the blistering heat. The two guards blocked Omdek from going any further towards the master.
The Good Master waved the guards to stand down and allow the slave trader to come closer, much to the relief of Omdek as he went further under the canopy to the man named Kraznys.
"Today is your most fortunate day!" Omdek continued, no doubt he said this to any wealthy customer to make them feel good to purchase what he is selling. "For I have-"
He didn't have time to finish his recited words to the Master as Kraznys grabbed him by the robes and pushed the slave trader on to the sand on his hands and knees.
"You have a lot of nerve coming to my presence after what you last sold me." Kraznys growled menacingly at Omdek. "The lions you sold me won't mate. They just walk around eating and not mating. You sold me queer lions. How can I raise beasts for the pits when I can't get them to mate? I want my gold back."
"Not a chance." Omdek responded back as he tried to get back however, motioned for one of his guards to come over and stepped on the slave trader's back, forcing him back down on the sand.
"A discount then on your next purchase." Omdek groaned the offer as he rubbed his pained back. "Just for you."
"On what?" Kraznys spat back in annoyance. "More pig shit you peddle around?"
"I have a new stock of slaves." The slave trader pointed to the slaves. "Come and see them. I will reduce the price on whatever you want."
Kraznys was reluctant at first but decided to take a look and got up from his seat to follow Omdek out of the refuge of the shade to see the slaves on display.
The slave trader trotted over to them and ordered them to stand up straight as his patron took his time to walk over to them.
Kraznys started at the far right, inspecting each man and woman shackled to the chain. He never showed any emotion or interest in any of them as he examined each of them. He made a few lewd comments on the women but the men he seemed very unimpressed.
Finally he reached Silas, the last in the line. Omdek scurried over with an excited look on his face as the Good Master examined Silas, ready to pitch the sale of the former Prince to Master Kraznys in the hopes to get a lot of money out of him.
"This is a very special commodity." Omdek stated to the Master. "This is Silas Baratheon. A former Prince of the Seven Kingdoms. He tried to steal his King brother's crown and failed. His punishment is to live a life of servitude as a slave on the orders of his Queen mother Cersei."
Kraznys nodded as he gave Silas a once over before announcing his bid.
"I'll give you one thousand gold for the entire lot."
"One thousand!" The slave trader angrily shrieked. "This Prince alone is worth three thousand!"
"Former Prince." Kraznys clarified to Omdek. "Titles mean nothing if they no longer hold them. If he is here in your company than he is has lost his value considerably. Besides, what would I want with a pampered spoiled Prince? He probably hasn't even held a sword in his life let alone fight. I need fighters. Not useless traitorous Princes."
Silas turned his glaring emerald eyes at the Good Master, nostrils flared as anger began to surge through his body. The whole trip he kept his silence, never speaking a word to Omdek when he came down to the quarters to taunt him. Silas refused to give the slave trader the satisfaction of a reaction from him, even if it meant getting beaten for missing a meal.
However, his resilience can only hold back so much and his anger at this cruel man added on with the anger at his family and the small council made it that much harder to ignore his taunts and now this guy, this slave owner, thinks he could just say whatever he wants about him as if he knows him and the situation that brought him here.
Before he knew it, Silas spoke out before he could stop himself.
"I am not a traitor!" the former Prince snapped at the Good Master.
Kraznys mo Nakloz stared back in shock. No doubt surprised that a Westerosi knew the foreign language he spoke.
The bald master stepped closer to Silas, as if trying to tower over him in intimidation only to fall short by half a foot.
"You know the Valyrian language?" Kraznys skeptically asked Silas. Probably thought the former Prince only knew a few phrases but nothing more.
"I can also speak the language." Silas growled back in Valyrian rather than the common toungue to prove his the stunned and offended look on the Good Master's face, Silas had succeeded in his small endeavor. "I think that would make me worth twice the price you are asking for. Unless you are too cheap to afford me?"
Now the Good Master looked angry at Silas for insinuating that he couldn't afford the price offered for him and the others together.
The furious bald master turned to Omdek who looked scared in return as Kraznys rounded on him.
"First you sell me queer beasts and now you offer me disrespectful slaves?" Kraznys bellowed in anger at the slave trader. "Do you enjoy insulting your patrons like this Omdek?"
"My apologies!" Omdek replied back with a trembling smile. He was clearly afraid of the Good Master and feared that the man would kill him. Not that it would be such a bad thing.
"To make it up to you, I will give you a good price." Omdek quickly added, hoping to save his neck. "The Prince for fifteen hundred and another thousand for the rest as a gesture of good faith, eh?"
"Good faith? You are still trying to rob me blind!" The Master barked back. "What purpose will I have with this rabble? You are doing nothing but wasting my time with this nonsense!"
Silas glanced at the retreating slaver in worry. As much as he didn't want to be sold into slavery and forfeit his life to someone else, he didn't want to peddled off to someone else. If he was going to be displayed to another patron. Something in the pit of his stomach made Silas feel that Omdek might just keep him for himself if this offer didn't work out.
"It will be worth it this time I promise!" Omdek stated, the desperation was clear in his voice. "I know for a fact you have a match coming up in a few days against Hokhez and his slaves and you are in dire need of new stock to match his fighters numbers. These slaves could even the odds in your favor."
"These slaves look like they can barely stand let alone hold a sword." Kraznys spat back at Omdek. "I am not going to waste twenty five hundred gold on a bunch slaves that are just going to die in the arena. Not only will it make me look bad but it will be bad for business to sell Unsullied soldiers. I cannot have untrained slave fighting and dying under my name."
"Then use them for executions!" Omdek quickly suggested to the Good Master. "The execution games are always entertaining and it won't look bad for you sending untrained fighters to die!"
Kraznys was about to protest but then held back what he was going to say as he took in the words that the slave trader said to him.
Silas prayed internally that the Astapori Master agreed to buy them. He didn't like the idea of taking lives for entertainment but the alternative could be worse. He would rather live the short life of a pit fighter than a long and torturous life of a house slave.
It seemed that there were indeed Gods listening to and answered Silas' prayers as relief flooded him when he heard the Good Master agree to purchase them.
"Fine. I will buy your stock." Kraznys announced to a now gleeful Omdek . "The whole lot here."
"Wonderful!" the slave trader practically sang. "Now, about the price."
Kraznys raised a hand to stop Omdek from continuing any further.
"No. I already have a price I am willing to pay." The Good Master told him with certainty in his voice. "I will pay eight hundred for the Prince here and one thousand for the rest of the rabble. That's eighteen hundred all together."
Omdek stared at Kraznys as if he had been slapped in the face by the man at the offer he was given.
"One thousand and eight hundred? Are you trying to rob me?" the slave trader yelled at the Good Master for his offer. "That is no better than your other offer!"
"Yes it is." Kraznys replied back to the trader. "I have given eight hundred extra gold. A generous offer on my part since you continue to sell me shit. Now that is my final offer and what I consider a generous price cut. Take it or leave it."
Omdek looked like he was about to decline the offer but noticing the guards coming closer with their hands on the hilt of their weapons made him change his mind and agreed to the price.
"Fine. Eighteen hundred gold it is then for the lot." Omdek growled in a low defeated tone.
Kraznys ordered one of his guards to get the gold from the chest in canopy beside his seat.
After spending a few minutes in silence while the guards transferred the gold into a traveling purse, they returned with a couple of bags in hand, the faint jingling of the coins hitting each other with each movement of the purses.
Taking a bag in each hand, Kraznys passed them on to Omdek who placed them on both palms of his hands and held them as if weighing them.
Seemingly satisfied with the weight of the gold in hand and trusting that it is the right amount, he tied the purses to his belt and shook the Good Master's hand.
"Pleasure doing business with you...friend." Omdek mumbled in contempt before walking away.
On his to the arena's exit, Omdek paused a moment when he came across Silas and gave him one last glare before departing.
"Enjoy your gold." Silas spoke once again in the common tongue and smirked at the slave trader. He could hear the portly man's sandals skid to a halt in the sand.
The entire trip across the narrow sea, all Omdek talked about was how much money he was going to get from selling him. Now, he barely made a profit from selling him and the others all together.
"One more thing." Omdek returned back to the group.
Kraznys turned back to the slave trader with an irritated look at the man.
"The former Prince. I was given strict instructions that he was never be given access to leave Essos, by orders of his Queen mother."
The smug smile on Silas' lips faltered to a frown as his eyes glared at the man once again.
"She wants him dead. I suggest you do the world a favor and have him die the most vicious way possible in the arena. The crowd would love to see the brutal death of royalty."
Kraznys was actually taking the suggestion to account from the look on his face.
"I will consider it."
Omdek nodded and bid the Good Master farewell. As he turned back around, he gave the former Prince one last smirk and a quick wink before departing from the arena and his life. Thank the Gods.
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The few days passed much too quick for Silas. In honesty, they were probably the quickest he ever felt. Maybe it had to do with his impending death quickly approaching.
Now, he was in a cell beneath the seats of the stadium, listening to the deafening roar of the crowd above him cheering on the two men fighting while avoiding the pair of lions set out for them.
The days might have passed quickly for the former Prince but being left to himself in the cell allowed him to make his peace. He wasn't particularly religious but he found a small comfort in praying to the seven and trying to make amends with his past wrong doings.
The only thing he could make peace with was what he felt for his mother and brother. He could never in a million lifetimes forgive them for putting him here in the first place. He honestly wished they would have just executed him back home and suffered the wrath of the people. At least his death would have meant something over there. His death could have been the rallying cry to stand up against them. Here, he was going to die a nameless slave and his body tossed away to the beasts as their meal.
Silas was startled by the cries coming from the arena but did not look. He did his best to avoid watching the others die one by one in the arena. He couldn't look at what will soon be his future.
One by one, more slaves were escorted from their holding cells throughout the morning for the execution games to begin the real matches. All the days of the games must begin with the spilling of blood.
Most of the slaves didn't return and the few that did come back returned bloodied and battered and even dragged back to their cells by the guards when they could no longer stand.
Finally, it was just Silas sitting alone on the dirt covered stones of the ground. Sand fell from the crevices of the trembling stadium above him as the hysterical crowd cheered for more blood.
It was his turn now. Silas had to admit he was nervous. He was more than nervous actually. His stomach was turning so much he felt like he would vomit. As much as he was prepared for this it still made him as nervous as anyone would be with death quickly approaching.
His head snapped up at the muffled sound of voices coming his way. Soon two guards walked up to his cell and unlocked the metal door.
"Your death has finally come." a short portly bald guard of the two smiled darkly at him as he walked over to unlock the manacles from his wrists while the other, a taller gangly guard, kept a hand on his sword in case Silas tried to make a run for it. As if he would make a run for it.
Once the manacles fell to the ground with a metallic clank against the stone, they ordered Silas out of the cell and walked him down the warm hallway to the arena.
"I wonder how long this one will last?" the portly guard asked the other guard as they made their way to the arena entrance.
"Hopefully longer than that third fighter." the taller guard responded back. "He barely lasted a moment before Raznor skewered him with his spear. That was the most pathetic fight I've seen in a long time."
"I hear this one is a Prince." the gangly guard continued on. "Maybe he will show us what he learned from all of his fancy Knights that taught him."
"You jest!" the fat guard laughed back. "Just look at him. This boy has never held a sword in his life. I doubt he has ever worked a day in his life."
Silas did his best to ignore the two poor excuse for guards and focus on the match he was about to participate in. That was far more important than the taunts they made at him. He could care less about what they thought. He just hoped that he could prove them wrong.
Finally they made it to the wide archway blocked by the portcullis that stood between him and the circular arena where the fight was still going on. However, it wasn't the fight that caught his attention but the mounds of mutilated bodies that were piled on top of one another.
Silas could feel the bile rise in his throat at the sight and the horrible stench as panic began to fill him once more. This was to be his fate, as one of the nameless slaves killed for amusement and then piled onto the other dead slaves when he loses.
Not wanting to look at them any more, Silas turned back to the arena, which wasn't any better a sight to behold.
In the arena, two men were already in the middle of fighting for the crowds amusement; one a tall bulky man swinging a heavy war hammer at his opponent, a smaller skinnier man with a sword in one hand and an octagonal shield in his other, protecting him from the continuous swings of the bone crushing weapon.
The bulky warrior swung his Warhammer with one hand, as if it was weightless, barely missing the other mans' head by inches.
The other fighter, smaller scrawnier in comparison, was more quick and nimble, his only advantage to dodge the heavy weapon constantly swinging his way, choosing to keep a defensive position and wait for the perfect moment to strike.
The fight didn't last much longer. The smaller man found an opportunity to attack, or so he thought. The second he dropped his guard to strike, the bigger man parried the sword with his war hammer, flinging the sword from his opponents grasp leaving only his shield for protection. A few more strikes rendered the shield useless, leaving the poor unfortunate man exposed.
The bigger man raised the war hammer above his head and swung it fast into his opponent's chest. The man was thrown into the air and skidded back onto the bloodstained sand.
The crowd cheered at the impending and brutal victory as the bigger man stood over the other, brandishing his weapon and grinning widely at him as if he was prey.
"Wait! Wait! Mercy… please! Please, I beg for mercy!" The smaller man sputtered his plea. The crowd booed and shouted at the begging man.
KILL HIM! KILL HIM! KILL HIM! The entire stadium chanted in unison, fueling the big fighter to kill the man, as if he needed the help. The man raised the weapon high above his head and with a small low grunt he dropped the war hammer down on his victim, smashing through the bare torso and caving in his chest. Blood splattered the sand the weapon and the bulky man himself.
The stadium erupted into applause as the victor raised his bloodied weapon over his head and roared like a wild beast over the lifeless body.
Silas watched in distaste at the people around him before closing his eyes at the sight. How they cheered at such a barbaric spectacle. How they threw trash at the dead slave as his body was being unceremoniously dragged off the sand.
There was no shred of honor in this place and there was no honor in fighting and dying in here either.
"Here!"
Silas felt his hand being pulled and a sword shoved into his palm. He quickly held onto it before it slipped from his fingers.
The former Prince took a look at the weapon and saw that it was a poor excuse for a sword but was relieved to see that it had a sharp edge to it. He might not have a chance at winning but he could at least die knowing he could do damage to the other opponent.
The archway opened for Silas and he was pushed into the arena by the guards. He was nearly blinded by the bright rays of the hot noon sun blazing above him as he made his way to center of the arena.
"DAEGON ONCE AGAIN STANDS A VICTOR AND PROVING HIS STRENGTH TO US ALL! BUT THE DAY IS STILL YOUNG AND NOWHERE NEAR OVER! MORE BLOOD AND CARNAGE IS ON THE WAY!"Silas heard the orator announce to the crazy crowd around him.
Turning his head to the right, he could see a terrace where the wealthy and people of high standing viewed the matches away from the rest of the common rabble that filled the rest of the arena.
It is there that he saw the man that purchased him, Kraznys mo Nakloz, standing as he continued to speak to the crowd.
"WE HAVE SEEN MANY EXECUTIONS TODAY TO HONOR THE REAL GAMES! BUT I HAVE SAVED A SPECIAL MATCH FOR LAST!"
The portcullis across from Silas creaked open revealing two fighters marching onto the sand with a longsword gripped in their blood stained hands.
Silas wasn't expecting a two on one battle but readied himself for the fight as the fighter came closer. However, his emerald eyes widened when he saw movement behind the incoming fighter.
Two more men walked onto the sand, each menacing looking and brandishing a different type of weapon in hand.
Silas couldn't believe that this was happening. He was going to have to fight four beast like men whose sole purpose is to fight death matches. This place truly has no honor.
"GOOD MASTER HOKHEZ NA QUAZNEZN HAS GRACIOUSLY PROVIDED FOUR OF HIS FIGHTERS TO PARTICIPATE IN THE FINAL EXECUTION GAME!"Kraznys announced to the deafening crowd.
Kraznys was soon replaced by another man. He looked older and fair of skin with light shade of golden hair that neatly feathered around his head and neck.
"LADIES AND GENTELMEN I HAVE THE UTMOST HONOR TO INTRODUCE MY FIGHTERS…GODAS AND RADIR!"
The first two men to come into the arena after Silas raised their swords as the crowd cheered for them.
"FOLLOWED BY XAL AND MORLO!" The fighter named Xal raised his war axe while Morlo raised the sharp trident to the crowd.
Kraznys returned to the edge of the terrace and raised his hand to calm the fanatical people around them.
"LET THIS SCUM MEET HIS END!"
Kraznys brought his hand swiftly down, signaling the beginning of the match.
Immediately, the four men circled around the boy like a pack of sharks waiting for the perfect moment to attack him.
Silas kept his guard up. His hard emerald glare watched each man, alert for an attack. He didn't have to wait long.
Godas swung his longsword at the boy. Silas reacted quickly and jumped back, bobbing his head away from the swift blades sharp edge that nearly sliced his face.
Another attack quickly followed from Radir. The man swung low, trying to take Silas's legs out but the boy jumped just in time to avoid the long blade.
Silas ducked again when he saw Morlo's trident swinging toward him. Morlo thrusted the sharp three pronged weapon at the boy again but Silas weaved out of the way and parried it with his sword.
Silas quickly took the offensive and attacked in rapid succession.
He took to attacking Godas first, slashing his sword crossways, once hitting Godas' incoming sword then again with another sideways slash. On the third swing Godas caught Silas's sword with his own. Not missing a beat, Silas pushed forward with his sword and butted his head hard against Godas's.
Godas stumbled back, dazed and now open for attack.
Silas didn't waste any time and kicked the man with full force in his chest. The slave fighter fell on his back but quickly got back up on his knees, groaning at the throbbing pain where Silas' black boot hit him.
Godas didn't want to give up just yet. When Silas had his back turned, the man picked up his longsword from the sand before getting back up.
Silas sensed the attack coming. He knew the man wasn't going to quit just yet. He twisted his body around and kicked the man again, this time in the face. He heard the unquestionable sound of bones cracking when his heavy boot made contact with Godas' nose and teeth.
Godas instantly fell back onto the sand, knocked out cold and out of the fight. Silas stepped over his body and took Godas' sword to use for himself. With two swords in hand, he felt much better about this fight.
Silas rolled forward to avoid Xal's war axe that sliced the air a few inches above him. The fighter swung again when Silas got back up but the boy parried the axe away from him while he blocked Morlo's trident with the longsword he took from Godas.
Silas kept his defenses up as the two fighters continued to take him on together, not knowing that Radir was right behind him with his sword ready in his hand. Radir again swung low, this time making contact. His sword sliced the boy's calf deep.
Silas yelled in pain and fell to the ground, blood seeping from the long red gash on his leg.
The three men quickly took advantage of this moment and moved in for the kill.
They didn't attack him all at once. First Xal jumped in and swung that axe of his at the fallen boy. However, Silas, even in his injured state managed to block the sharp weapon with his sword.
Silas turned on his side to get back up but Xal attacked again, this time, striking the boy in the back, his blood splattered into the air and dropped in little droplets onto the sand.
The boy's scream of pain rang through the stadium only to be muted by the roar of the crowd.
Silas fell back down onto his back again. Xal returned and brought his axe down. This time, Silas didn't have his back turned and rolled away just in time before the axe's blade hit the sand where his head had been moments earlier.
Silas got up on his hand and knees when Radir stomped forward and kicked his steel-toed boot upwards into the boys gut hard.
The boy fell flat onto his stomach, gasping for air as Radir roared to the cheering crowd.
Morlo came around and whipped Silas on his face with the shaft of the trident when he tried to get back up onto his knees. Blood and saliva flew from the boy's bloodied nose and mouth.
Dazed, Silas didn't notice Radir coming back. The man marched behind Silas and smacked him hard with the flat of his blade, knocking Silas back down onto the ground.
Silas's face was covered with sand collected from his blood and sweat as he tried to get back on his feet.
Radir towered over the boy and laughed at him.
"You ready to die you little cunt?"
Silas remained silent as he looked up at the man, his bruised and bloodied body trembling.
"Look at you, shaking at death eh? Afraid to die?" Radir held his sword and placed it gently on Silas's neck. "Don't worry, you won't feel nothing when I take that head off."
Radir raised the longsword and roared as he suddenly swung the weapon back down.
Silas turned away from the man towering above him and took a deep breath to calm himself. This was it. This is his end. After seventeen years of life he was going to meet his death in a foreign land as some nameless slave.
He didn't know if it was because he was so close to death or he had been hit too many times in the head but he could see them…mother and Joffrey. Seeing their smug faces staring back at him as he waited for his death…they made him feel something. An anger that he had never felt before.
Then he saw the others that were in on this. Littlefinger, Varys and Pycelle. Seeing them standing next to his mother and brother, watching him die as they had hoped made him all the more furious at them. He felt his heart racing and pound hard in his chest as he felt this sudden rush of energy revitalizing him.
No, he was not going to die today. He was not going to let them win.
Mustering his energy, Silas grabbed his sword lying beside him and slashed the weapon upward and sliced through the man's wrist, neatly severing the hand in one swift movement.
Silas stood back on his feet and Radir slowly fell to the floor, holding the bloody stub where his hand was moments before. The severed hand landed with a dull thud a couple feet beside him where the blood from the hand began to seep onto the sand.
Silas turned around to see Morlo was already charging at him and thrusted his trident at the boy. Silas ran towards him and pushed the trident down and stomped on it, breaking the spear in half. He picked up the broken half from the ground and stabbed it through Morlo's leg.
Silas could see Xal running towards him, his war axe raised and ready to strike.
Without thinking, Silas grabbed ahold of the screaming slave before he could fall onto the ground and held him up in front like a shield.
Xal was so focused and eager to kill that he couldn't stop himself and sliced deep into his companions back, killing him instantly.
Enraged, Xal swung his axe wildly, desperate to hit the boy that he was becoming too careless with his attacks.
Silas had to keep jumping back to avoid the sharp edge. After jumping back a few more times, he accidentally misstepped and ended up getting slashed on his upper arm near his shoulder and again in the chest. He backed away in pain, adrenaline kicking in evermore.
The former Prince had enough. He wanted this fight to end, here and now.
The slave fighter swung his war axe down while Silas swung his sword up, both meeting in the middle. It was Silas's strike that proved more powerful and knocked the axe from Xal's grasp.
The boy was too far into the moment that he swung his sword again and slashed at Xal's chest, leaving a long deep red blood seeping gash. He wasn't done though with the slave and marched towards him.
Silas grabbed the Xal by the shoulder to keep him standing still. The slave gurgled something but Silas couldn't make it out nor did he care. He gave Xal one last look and thrusted the blade of his sword upward into the aliens chin and out through the top of his head.
The crowd was going wild in the stands for Silas but he didn't care. He couldn't hear them or see them as his mind was focused solely on the men in the arena and didn't pay them any mind as he took the sword out of the dead slave's head and let the body slump onto the sand with a dull thud and walked away. He only had to deal with one more person now.
Radir was crawling on the sand, his body shaking and blood seeping from the stump where his hand had been.
Silas could still feel the rage and hatred flowing through him as he stared down at this now pitiful man. Silas was always a man of restraint, especially when it came to fighting. Ser Barristan taught him to stop and know when he won and he certainly had won this fight.
Radir was done. His severed hand laying next him as blood seeped onto the sand. Looking at him, Silas felt no remorse for him. No remorse for anybody that he killed.
Silas walked over to the man, sword in his hand but not brandished and ready to strike. Not yet, anyways.
The boy placed his black leather boot on Radir's side and nudged him over to roll him on his back. Radir grunted in pain on impact.
Silas didn't strike him, yet. He didn't even raise his weapon at the injured man. He did however keep a foot down on Radir's chest to keep him from crawling away any further.
Silas exhaled deeply and looked down at the pitiful squirming on the sand to sit back up. His bloodied red lips curled into a snarl as he glared at the boy towering above him.
Radir had muttered something to Silas but he couldn't hear it, not that he cared what the man had said to him.
Silas raised the sword in his hand. With one quick swift thrust, he stabbed Radir in the heart. The slave gave a small grunt and blood dribbled from his opened mouth. When Silas took the sword out of his opponent's chest, Radir toppled back onto the sand, eyes glazed as the life drained out of him.
The crowd in the stadium erupted into a deafening applause that startled Silas. It was as if all the sound in the world had returned to him all at once. He looked around between the people cheering for him and the bodies of the men he had fought. He had done it. He couldn't believe that he had survived his own execution against four experience fighters.
These men were the first he had killed. Silas didn't know what to feel or how he should feel about it. To be frank, he didn't really care at the moment. What he did care was what was going to happen to him now. What happens to a slave when they survive their own execution? Winning a trial by combat in Westeros meant you were free but this wasn't Westeros and the customs were very different here.
Silas turned his body to the terrace where Kraznys mo Nakloz stood near the edge as he began to address the crowd once again.
"WE HAVE JUST WITNESSED A RARE AND AMAZING SIGHT! NOT ONLY DID THIS PRISONER KILL THE FOUR EXPERIENCED MEN FROM THE HOUSE OF GOOD MASTER HOKHEZ-" the man in question seemed to be seething at the unexpected turn of events and even more so with Kraznys announcing it to the thousands in the stadium who began to laugh at the Good Master. "BUT HE ALSO SURVIVED HIS OWN EXECUTION. THE QUESTION REMAINS…WHAT SHOULD BE DONE WITH HIM?"
Silas felt his heart drop. Leaving his fate to this blood thirsty crowd was a death sentence to him, he already knew it.
He was already expecting to hear the crowd chant 'kill him' like they have been for every match. However, what he heard was something completely unexpected.
Silas couldn't make it out at first, but as he began to listen closely he began to make out the word 'Live' from his translation. He couldn't believe it! The crowd wanted him to live.
Hearing the crowd's voice calm down to a gradual silence, Silas returned his gaze back to the terrace where Kraznys mo Nakloz was ready to pass his judgment.
"IT SEEMS YOU HAVE ALL TAKEN A LIKING TO THE PRISONER AND HAVE DECIDED TO LET HIM LIVE ANOTHER DAY. I TOO FEEL THAT WAY!" The crowd applauded at Kraznys' words that quickly faded when he began to speak again.
"WITH THAT BEING SAID…I HAVE DECIDED TO KEEP THE PRISONER AND TRAIN HIM AS ONE OF MY FIGHTERS AND HAVE RISE IN THE RANKS TO BECOME A CHAMPION OF ASTAPOR!"
The crowd cheered even louder than before for the new fighter that will represent the city of Astapor in Slaver's Bay.
"THE PRISONER SHALL BE NAMED DEATHS BASTARD FOR LEAVING NO MAN ALIVE TODAY AND SENDING THEM TO DEATH HIMSELF AND THE FIGHTERS THAT HE WILL SEND TO DEATH IN HIS FUTURE MATCHES! DEATHS BASTARD!"
The entire stadium roared his new name Death's Bastard and chanted it over and over again.
Silas felt the flood of relief overtake him as he heard the words. He might be a slave fighter but at least he gets to live another day and prove his worth.
Maybe one day, he could win his freedom and return to Westeros and seek the vengeance he deserves.
Alright, did you all enjoy the first chapter? I thought I'd start the series off with a bit of a bang and show Silas' beginnings as a slave and how he became a fighter for Kraznys mo Nakloz and include a pretty epic fight…at least I think it's pretty epic.
Speaking of the fight, for those that may or may not recognize it, the match between Silas and the four slave fighters comes from the TV series Spartacus Blood and sand. Actually, the whole idea of Silas fighting and surviving his execution comes from the very first episode when Spartacus himself did the same thing. For future references, the fights you read in both this story and the main story will most likely come from the Spartacus TV series and I will of course make sure you all know.
So, as I mentioned in the Author's Note before the chapter, I have some more news regarding the future postings on this story. Well, here it is. As I was working on this chapter, I was thinking about making this project a more…interactive with you guys. What I mean is that with the one-shot series here, I was thinking of not just posting my own ideas but yours, my fellow readers as well. I have read quite a few one-shot series from various authors who have used ideas from their readers and I think it's a wonderful idea and it is a great way to include the readers.
So, with this project if you have any ideas you want to pitch my way I will be more than happy to consider making it into a chapter. If I do, I will of course, give you full credit for the idea.
I do have a couple of rules though. I will not just take any idea that is brought my way.
1. I will not accept any ideas that are extremely sexually explicit. I am not saying sex won't appear here and there in various chapters but I will not accept anything that would be considered disturbing.
2. I will not accept idea's from guest/anonymous accounts. If I cannot PM you, I cannot take your idea, sorry. If you really want me to consider your idea then I suggest making an account on the site. It's quick and easy.
I think that's all the rules I have for now. If I have more, I will update this list on both this author's note and on my profile page in the section I will create for this story.
I believe that is all I have to say. If you have any questions or comments, please feel free to PM me or leave a review and I will respond as soon as I can.
I hope you all enjoyed the chapter and keep a look out for the next one!
