Sister's Keeper
Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones
Languages
Common Tongue
Valyrian
Dothraki
Old Ghiscari
Chapter 28: Trialing the Great Masters
I thought it would take a week to trial the 163 Great Masters. Judging twenty to thirty Masters a day, except these men were stubborn. Prolonging speeches in their defense. Praising their greatness and lavishing their character. However, it did not rest their case when the transcript is presenting their name, they voted yes for the execution of the slave children. Usually, their sons or protégé comes forth to speak the truth of the defendant on trial of their judgment. So far, they spoke the truth, except for those who dare stab their colleague in the back.
Currently Unsullied surrounded the Audience Hall, while I sat on the ebony bench on the top of the stairs. Ser Jorah and Ser Barristan standing behind me, and Missandei at her post being the translator. In these long trials, everyone was fortunate enough to reach fifteen men. Since I have to address my subjects.
Taking a deep breath, the next son came in. He was a tall, very slender man. He held a gentle profile, placid eyes, and long face with a trimmed beard. He had wiry black hair too. He appeared to be in his late twenties. Only the attire he wore made him appear older, wearing blue robes and the Ghis scarves of gold entwining to a bronze ring around his waist. Behind him was servant, who stood there in perfect health.
"The noble lord Hizdahr zo Loraq begs an audience with the Queen," the servant said.
"The noble Hizdahr zo Loraq can speak for himself," I said calmly.
The servant gave a bow stepping back. Hizdahr stepped forward onto the platform and gave a bow.
"Queen Alysanne," Hizdahr greeted. "Tales of your beauty were not exaggerated."
"I thank you," I replied.
"Mine is one of the oldest and proudest families in Meereen." He said.
"Then it is my honor to receive you," I said. "Only I wish it was under better circumstances."
"My father, one of the Meereen's most respected and beloved citizens, oversaw the restoration and maintenance of its greatest landmarks. This pyramid included."
"Which brings us to this situation," I sighed, getting serious. "On my way to Meereen, I encountered a horrendous act against humanity. The Great Masters crucifying innocent children. One hundred and sixty-three children from the ages of three to ten. I stared at each and every one of their faces and pray for their souls before they were put to rest with a promise that they will receive justice. Now the time has come to see who were the men responsible for this decision. Speak the truth, did your father, Great Master zo Loraq voted to crucify the children?"
"My father spoke out against crucifying those children." He answered, eyes staring into my own. "He decried it as a criminal act, but was overruled. Is it justice to answer one crime with another?"
I looked at Ser Barristan who held a copy of the transcript to be sure the head of zo Loraq was on the against list. He examined the parchment and nodded.
"What's done is done. You are the queen and I am a servant of Meereen." Hizdahr said. "A servant who does not wish to see his father executed on the crimes of others. Though slaves we held, we treated them as human beings. Educating them, as you see before you."
As he gestures the servant behind him. I waved my hand for the servant to come forward. He obliged giving a bow.
"Does he speak the truth?" I asked the servant.
"Master zo Loraq is a good man. I know to read and write under his roof," the servant answered.
I nodded, making a gesture for the guards to bring in Master zo Loraq. A few moments later, an older man came forward confused, being shackle from his imprisonment. There was some resemblance to his son, only his hair was greying.
"Master zo Loraq," I spoke. "On the crimes of the crucifying the innocent children, where was your position on the vote."
The elderly man looked down, "No child should die. I said no."
"Over the past few days, you are the first man I have encounter whose son shows much love for his father. Along with the support of your servant. Based on the evidence, you are free to go and live out your days."
Master zo Loraq eyes widen as he fell onto his knees giving his gratitude. Hizdahr gave a bow, before helping his father up and guiding him home. I wish all the sons of the Great Masters showed the same devotion to their fathers as Hizdahr zo Loraq. The way the man spoke, and the respect on tradition and his family value make him a perfect candidate of being a member of the Meereen Council. As I intend to have one Great Master and One Freeman to discuss the decision of their city.
Once they were gone, I looked at Ser Jorah who gave an approving nod and then to Ser Barristan who gave a small smile. Seeing that I allowed the Great Masters to petition with the support of their heirs. It is not the same as Westeros's trials, but a person can be found guilty or innocent based upon the evidence. The only way a man could survive their vindictive is to confess why they did it or except execution. If we were back in Westeros, I would have offered the Great Masters to take the black. But there is no wall here.
After a long two weeks, the fifty-three Great Masters were free, five regretting their decision will spend life in the dungeons, and the rest…the rest were crucified. On the day that the guilty party was crucified, the freemen stood out and watch, as the Unsullied nailed them to the post. The entire day Meereen past screamed in agony. I had mixed emotions, but everyone in my council told me I did much better than my Father. King Aerys the Second would have burned all of the Great Masters alive with Wildfire. If I were my father, I would have crucified all of them with no questions. However, I am not my father. I gave the Great Masters an opportunity, and they went against their word the moment I reach the Cities Gates. It was a trial or overall execution. And the trial has shown me that not all the Great Masters are cruel.
The Meereenese were raised under a barbaric tradition that they were to blind to see how wrong it was. It was their lifestyle, no matter what their status was from the lower class to Great Master. Anyone who came to the city in chains, they saw as animals or property. So, to find some of the Great Masters know the limits of how far is too far on the abuse of humans…there may be a chance to reform them.
Although, I know there will be a consequence for killing the majority of the Great Masters. Also, the repercussion of the sudden change in culture. I left Astapor and Yunkai under a council to develop. Hopefully, they heed my warning or abolishing slavery…otherwise, I will return. I gave them a second chance. I will not give them a third chance.
.o0o.
The days turned into weeks, and weeks turn into months as the city adjusted. The Unsullied assigned to station post in the city securing the area. The Second Sons patrol the borders of the city in case of enemies. The Dragons on occasion would fly by. Many were in awe, although there were some who were afraid. Although, one dragon seems to vanish a lot more than the others. Drogon. So, ensuring the whereabouts of the black dragon, I station watch towers and returning messages the practice of carrier bird. Unlike Westeros using Ravens, the Ghriscari province uses falcons, primarily Saker Falcons. Once the dragons have been spotted a falcon would be sent.
Other than that, Daenerys has been working hard on her hostels and mass halls. Along with organizing ships to help escort the freemen back to their homes. There were many slaves from Lhazar, who want to return home. Daenerys suggested they shouldn't for the risk of being enslaved again by the Dothraki. But I reminded her, that freedom has a choice. Even if there is a risk. So, we arrange a caravan to escort the Lhazareen back to Lhazar. I just pray no godswife in the group dare practice in blood magic to condemn us.
Clash
My sparing sword blocked the attack from Ser Barristan. It was morning, as Ser Barristan was training me in swordsmanship. Now that we were settled in Meereen I spend two hours in the morning training and one hour at the late hour or at night depending on my schedule. I block the next attack using a shield. The force knocks me a step back, but I manage to recover. The past year I have grown strong. Both knights agreed that I proved I can handle the arming sword with one hand that I should practice wielding a shield to earn equal balance in my arms. As Jorah pointed out there were now muscles forming. Not as protrusive as the men, but tone.
"Left foot forward," Ser Barristan said, correcting me on a mistake. "Now pivot as you deliver the stroke with all your weight behind it."
I nodded attempting against, which took three tries before getting it right. A memory Braavos came to mind when Ser Willem hired a Water Dancer to teach Viserys how to use a sword. As you can tell, that did not go well. Braavosi water dance was different from knight dancing. The Water Dancer moves like water and air, and knight moves vigorously as earth. Theatrics vs. goals, I would say. Although the Braavosi uses theatrics as a form of distraction, it does not resolve the fact that someone is trying to kill you.
It wasn't long when Ser Barristan caught me, aiming his sword in my face. Damn it, I left my self-open again.
"You need to use the shield, your grace," Ser Barristan reminded. "You are leaving yourself open."
I looked into his eyes and nodded.
"Or you can take a dagger and kill the man," Daario announced as he walked over to the training ground with Ser Jorah.
"But does she have a dagger on her," Jorah counter.
Ser Barristan let go of my wrist and he took the sparing sword. I faced the men taking off the strap on the shield. It wasn't the usual kind where a warrior must hold on very tightly or the Unsullied. It was smaller suitable for my size.
"Do all women fight in your country?" Daario asked.
"No, it is not custom for women to fight," Jorah answered. "But there are Houses in the North who have their daughters learn to wield a spear and bow in hand."
"Bear Island puts an ax in their daughters' hand before they are three," Ser Barristan jest.
"I wouldn't say three," Jorah replied amused. "But every man, woman, and child are trained."
"Still, your fighting style doesn't seem to keep you alive," Daario taunt.
"Well, the Westerosi style isn't about playing with your opponent," I said. "A sword or any weapon is not a toy, it is a tool design for one thing, and that is to kill."
"I would disagree," Daario murmured. "It is sort of entertainment in the fighting pits."
I scowled, "Men killing each other as a source of entertainment is appalling."
"Really, have you seen men kill each other to please the crowd?" Daario asked.
"I have, at a Dothraki wedding," I answered.
"Sounds my kind of wedding," Daario murmured.
I sighed shaking my head, "It is one thing to beat people up to immobilize them. However, to give a weapon to kill someone should not be for sport."
I do not tolerate violence as game. That is the reason why I outlawed the fighting pits. When traveling with the Dothraki, there was fighting. But when they are raiding or killing over something of value, they were mainly roughhousing with their fist.
"Anyway, we have news from Westeros and other reports," Jorah announced changing the subject.
"All right, summon a council meeting," I said.
All three men nodded. I excused myself returning to the Pyramid to freshen up in my chambers. Changing out of my training clothes, and washing myself with a wet rag before putting on my royal attire.
.o0o.
In the Council Chamber in the Apex, everyone was assembled. Daenerys, Ser Barristan, and Ser Jorah sat by the table. Missandei and Grey Worm stood by the balcony. Meanwhile, Daario leaned against the wall arms crossed. Everyone was gathered, as we listen to the report, Ser Jorah has brought from Westeros.
"King Joffrey Baratheon is dead," Jorah announced.
Daenerys and I looked at him surprised. The supposed son of Robert Baratheon was dead.
"How?" I asked.
"Murdered at his own wedding," Jorah answered.
"And we have taken the Meereenese navy, Your Grace," Ser Barristan added.
"The Second Sons took the Meereenese navy," Daario corrected as he came over taking a seat at the table.
"Who told you to take the navy?" I asked annoyingly.
"No one," Daario answered, plucking a date from the bowl and plop it in his mouth.
"So why did you do it?" I asked sternly.
"I heard you liked ships," Daario answered casually.
I took a long deep breath. A person cannot take everything in a short period of time. If I present myself greedy, then the new Great Masters would find it as a threat. Already on thin ice with them, since the previous Great Masters who were guilty still, rot at the post.
"How many ships?" Daenerys asked.
"Ninety-three, Your Highness," Ser Barristan answered.
"How many men can they carry?" Daenerys asked.
"9,300, not counting the sailors." Ser Barristan answered.
"Would that be enough to take King's Landing? She asked.
"The Lannisters have more," Jorah answered.
"They've been fighting Joffrey's wars for years. They're tired, dispersed. And now their king is dead." Ser Barristan explained. "8,000 Unsullied, 2,000 Second Sons, 2,000 Ghis soldiers sailing into Blackwater Bay and storming the gates without warning."
I stared at Jorah wondering what he would think. He served in Robert's Rebellion, the Greyjoy Rebellion, and for a period of time was a member of the Golden Company. I understand Ser Barristan has good intentions and his mindset of the conditions of the Baratheon Monarchy. However, we are not talking about any Monarchy. We are up against Tywin Lannister who is the Hand of the King. Joffrey Baratheon was the face of the crown; it is Tywin Lannister who is the King on the chess board. No one can forget what he did to House Reyne. Along with the War of the Nine Penny Kings and…the sacking of King's Landing. A proven battle commander and politician.
When we settle in Meereen, we received gossip reports in what has transpired in Westeros. The Battle of Blackwater Bay, in King's Landing, when Stannis Baratheon tried to siege the Red Keep, except the enemy used Wildfire until the Lannister Forces arrived with the aid of House Tyrell. The Tyrells have forged an alliance with the Crown, marrying a maiden name Margaery to Joffrey Baratheon. Although, she was once married to one of the Five Kings, Renly Baratheon. House Stark surviving daughter Lady Sansa was forced to marry the imp Tywin Lannister, the Greyjoys pillaging Winterfell, killing the two young lords Bran and Rickard Stark.
There was one report being that of my vision in the House of the Undying that came true. One only Jorah, Daenerys and I were of aware of. The Northern Rebellion has come to an end, as the King in the North was murdered at his uncle Edmure Tully's wedding at the Twins. House Frey, Lord Walder Frey, and his sons massacre the Northern army in his home. All around people are calling it the Red Wedding. As Robb Starks had a wolfs head sewn to his body, his wife stabbed in the belly while pregnant and his mother, Lady Catelyn had her throat sliced. This was a sign that the visions are real and not an opioid illusion from the Shade of the Evening. In other words, confirming the Night King and his army are real.
Getting back on topic, I looked at Ser Jorah for his opinion.
"It's hard to say. It could be enough," Jorah answered. "But we're not fighting to make you queen of King's Landing. 12,000 men can't conquer Westeros."
"The old houses will flock to our queen when she crosses the Narrow Sea," Ser Barristan said.
"The old houses will flock to whichever side they think will win, as they always have," Jorah countered, then stood up. "There's other news. From Yunkai. Without the Unsullied to enforce your rule, the Wise Masters have retaken control of the city. They've reenslaved the freedmen who stayed behind and sworn to take revenge against you."
I clenched my fist taking a deep breath. Those selfish bastards! I've given them more leeway than Meereen and Astrapor combined.
"And in Astapor, the council you installed to rule over the city has been overthrown by a butcher named Cleon who declared himself 'His Imperial Majesty.'" Jorah added.
I turned around walking over to the balcony, "Please, leave me."
As command, everyone stood up to leave.
"Not you, Jorah," I said.
After a couple of moments knowing that the Council has left, I turned to see Jorah standing here.
"It appears my campaign in the liberation of Slaver's Bay isn't going quite as planned," I muttered.
Jorah shook his head, "You could sail for Westeros and leave it all behind. A boy who sits on the Iron Throne. A boy many believe to be a bastard with no right to it. They've never been more vulnerable."
"You counseled me against rashness once in Qarth," I murmured. "I didn't listen. That all worked out well."
Jorah chuckled slightly with a slight smile.
"How can I rule Seven Kingdoms if I can't control Slaver's Bay?" I asked him. "Why should anyone trust me? Why should anyone follow me?"
"You're a Targaryen. The Dragoness of the West." Jorah answered.
I turned around viewing the city horizon, twiddling the conquerors' ring. "I need to be more than that."
I faced him again, "I will not let those I have freed slide back into chains. I will not sail for Westeros."
"What, then?" Jorah asked.
"I will do what queens do. I will rule," I answered.
Until the horses and Kraken arrive to lend aid, will I remain in Meereen, I thought to myself.
Jorah nodded understanding that the benevolent approach is not enough to be a leader. It's time to put the Masters on a tighter leash and discipline his Imperial Majesty Cleon. At least I managed to rescue the freemen who left Yunkai and Astapor. Now I got to rescue the rest of my children. Now I must decide how to punish the Wise Masters of Yunkai. There are many ways to hand defiance, the question is…how does the punishment define me?
So…what do you think?
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