Twenty five Steel dragons(SD) went south, over land rather than road. They pulled long trailers behind them, loaded with merchant goods. Cheap(for me) swords, lead cups that my people were forbidden to drink from, crossbows, peppers and spices and other thing were heading south to Myr and come back with glass and was a test trip to tell how a caravan of SDs travels. I should see them back in a few days.
Ten SDs were sent to Norvos with the same. To return with iron, mined with slaves in the hills of Norvos.
There were no merchant princes or nobles in my city, eating up all the trade profit, and it showed. Everyone was clothed and fed. No starving orphans littered the streets. No thieves waited to mug you in the dark. It was safe enough for children to walk to school everyday while their parents worked.
Work was plentiful.
Songs swept over the whole city every night. People celebrating the freedom and happiness given by the son of God were never happier. The stadium was done and busy. Many came to see and bet on the horse races and other forms of entertainment. Bare fisted cage fighting was my favorite.
Something you should know about gambling.
The house always wins.
Apartments were built by the dozen. A few building were done each day. Slums were torn down and replaced with apartment building. Rent flowed in. Everyone had money to spend from the work they did.
Work was plentiful.
Casinos and brothels were making money, hand over fist. I made sure the whores got paid their third. The price of wine dropped as the amount of stills around the city rose, making 'holy water' a lot more popular.
Fuck using unstable wildfire as a weapon.
I have whiskey!
A pump forced air into a air-tight tank, pressurizing it. A little soap, added to oil, holy water, and, sugar, make a very sticky, highly flammable fluid that is in the pressurized tank. Forced down a steel pipe, and out a nozzle, it is lit by a small brazier under the nozzle. Allowing the pressure to be released in short bursts by a valve, it was very, very effective. Fires from it burned in the rain.
Work was plentiful.
I had them mounted onto all steel framed SD , not as effective as real dragons, but, good enough.
Crews were trained day and night in the first twenty five combat tricycles. A few additions were needed for the next rounds. Stiffer leaf springs, thin copper roof, all steel frame, better mountings on wheels for scythes, steel covers for exposed chains. The SD had slits on all sides for cooling and vision. cloth covered most of the vents on the sides. When wet, with a breeze from moving, the cloth made it quite cool in the cramped space of the SD.
It would be slower, but, it was resilient. Production was speeding now that the prototypes were being perfected. The artisans of Holy Pentos are used to working hard in groups on projects now.
The legions were in constant training and ranging. I was at 10 legions. 100,000 men and boys, Growing more fanatical and better disciplined every day. they could finally do more than march in step and fire on command. Do not rape and do not steal was engraved into everyone's brain.
100 ships and half a legion was sent to East-Watch-By-The-Sea. 10,000 workers went with them. They were going to begin repairing the defenses on the Wall. The ships were going to head to Hardhome with orders from me to begin ferrying the wildlings to Dragonstone where they would be disseminated into the people of the north. Promises of food and warmth, life away from the approaching hoard of undead for the simple value of working for me.
They followed strong men, and I cast a large shadow over the western world.
No one in Westeros would challenge me in allowing the wildlings into Westeros. I was far more feared than a few thousand savages.
My trade and steel plows helped to keep more men off the farms and into the legion. I had some workers clearing, plowing, and planting very large fields near the Little Rhoyne river. The SDs would speed the process.
Wide gravel roads are being built southward, toward Myr and northward up the Rhoyne. They may not be straight, paved, roman roads like I could build. They were cheap and fast though.
Ezzo was teaching me the secret prayers of the red priests on some of the nights I was not too busy. The prayers had amazing powers.
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(Gendry Water's POV)
'What are we doing here?' I wondered to my self.
The sea smelled of fish. Perhaps fish smelled of the sea?
The giants and wildling interpreter stunk up the whole ship. Holding my head over the port side to breath in the fresh sea air was the only relief from the stink of bodies that had never known a bath tub. Speaking in a guttural harsh tongue, demanding beer and salted pork loudly.
The giants were equally ugly and wildling was not much better.
Wrinkled scrunched faces in the middle of shrunken heads on-top of massive pear shaped bodies. Covered in fur and sweating in the autumn cool air. the narrow sea must be too warm for them. No giant had set foot beyond the wall in recorded memory.
They were fleeing with the wildlings from something. Willing to put their massive bodies into little ships and sail a thousand miles to get away from whatever it was that they were running from.
What the Red Son wanted with them, I will probably never know.
What I do know is that there is work for an honest man in Pentos. Recruiters in red cloaks had been running from one end of Westeros to the other. Telling everyone they passed of the wonders of Holy Pentos.
Offering cheap rood and board. Brothels and gambling houses the size of palaces. Where everyone had gold in their hands. The air was clean, and smelled of good food at all times. A giant arena where women wrestled naked in mud and men fought bar-handed for entertainment. Apprenticeships were free and plentiful. Brothels and gambling houses the size of palaces. Where wine and song flowed through the streets every night and morning. No nobles to steal your food, wife, and, gold. Brothels and gambling houses the size of palaces, open to everyone.
All you had to do was get on a ship to Holy Pentos, and renounce the false faith of the seven.
What had the seven ever done for me anyway?
Make me a bastard? Make me an orphan? have my head hunted from one end of Westeros to the other?
I would have happily renounced them without the giant pleasure palaces.
They were the lemon on the cake though.
I wonder why the giants are going to Holy Pentos too?
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(Hun Tag Dur Weg's POV)
"More beer!" I boomed at the little fragile creatures face, as he shook in fear.
It was too funny to scare him. I only know a few words of the common speech, One to summon ale, one to greet "Fuck ya!" ,and, one for food "Grub!"
For some reason the humies feel the need to be shouted at to understand us. My mate/sister and our spawn may be the last of my kin that I ever see. There are few of us left now.
Our homes, deep in the snowlands, far out of reach to the humies, had been destroyed generations ago by the expansion of the Blue Ones. They wanted to expand more into the humey lands now. We the Mighty Ones do not have the strength to fight the Squirrel People anymore.
Much less, the Blue Ones.
We must all flee or die. If we keep running, we may be far enough away from them that there hunger for life will be extinguished by the time they reach us. I doubt it though. I don't think we can run fast enough.
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