"You want to do what?"
Ranta stood in front of Jorah, unable to believe what she was hearing at the moment. "I want you to come with me and four hundred members of the Khalasar to make for the Great slave cities of Astapor, Yunkai, Mereen and take control of them." the man repeated with ease. "B-but why? What do they have to do with anything?" the blue eyed woman asked confused.
"We need to be able to sail out of Slaver's Bay incase sailing out of the Narrow Sea is not possible, we cannot do that if it is not under our control. " Jorah shook his head, " All three cities are made of slaves and slave soldiers. Take the cities, get the money we need to get ships and additional fighters. Astapor is the most important city for you to take. It is the home of Unsullied. A very good army filled with thousands of slaves who have been trained to fight and serve since they were five years old. However taking the Unsullied by force will not work. They only answer to their master, the one who holds the whip. You will need to buy them, or find something of equal value to trade to get them." he finished.
"What about Dany? Who will watch over her if you and I are gone?" Ranta asked after a few minutes of silence. "The Khaleesi will be fine with out her personal Westerosi guard dogs." Jorah smiled knowingly, " Rakharo, Jhogo, Irri and Doreah have all been tasked with protecting her while Khal Drogo leads his men to sack the smaller cities from here to Braavos. Should anything go wrong, they know to take the Khaleesi and track us down."
Ranta began pacing in her room in front of the Mormont as she thought what he had proposed, it never hurt to have more soldiers in an army and it would speed up the process if she helped Khal Drogo out by taking over cities so that he would not need to do so himself later. "What do Daenerys and Khal Drogo think about this?" Ranta tried, peeking out of the corner of her eye to see her children posted over the roaring fire place as usual, waiting for signs of the eggs to crack. Ranta would have given up before, but just three days ago the trio of eggs had all moved at different intervals of time during the day which had sparked her hope in the baby dragons hiding within.
"I have not told either of them. I simply left a note on my bed explaining things, I did the same for you, your grace." the blonde man said pulling out a folded piece of paper from the inside of his shirt and handed it to her to inspect. Ranta did not take it though, she merely gazed at Daenerys' name scrawled across the front of the letter in her hand writing and looked back up at Ser Jorah.
"You have never even seen me write before, how did you mimic my hand writing?" she asked. The Mormont rubbed the back of his neck nervously, "I didn't. I got you to write the letter yourself when you were half asleep and incoherent last night." he admitted sheepishly. Ranta's jaw dropped at the confession and pointed a stern finger at him to reprimand the man for such acts but found that she couldn't. That had been incredibly clever of him to do.
"Do it again, and I'll shave your beloved beard off." she warned seriously and then whisked the letter out of his hand and set in down on her pillows to be easily seen by anyone. "How do you propose to get four hundred Dothraki behind us?" Ranta asked running her fingers through her hair. "I have already rallied them, earlier today nonetheless. They are waiting for us as we speak." he informed her with ease.
Ranta looked at her friend incredulously, "Do you want to hatch these eggs for me while your at it?" she offered. Jorah smiled, "If it would please you." he shot back smoothly. The woman snorted but then sighed heavily, thinking over what the man had just told her for a few minutes in absolute silence besides the crackle of fire.
"Very well, Ser Jorah." Ranta caved to the now visibly satisfied man," I suppose since you have everything set up and ready to go then there is no sense in me saying no... you'll have to wait for me to pack my belongings." she told him and made to walk to her dresser but was stopped when the Mormont began speaking again. "I already-" a strangled noise escaped past his lips when Ranta whipped her head around and glared daggers at the man. If looks could kill, Ser Jorah would be dead six times over by now.
"I-I was just going to say that Irri already packed for you, my lady," a light blush formed on his cheeks, "I- I would never..." he stuttered but then stopped when he seen a calmer Ranta raise her hand to ease the former knight. Walking over to the fire place, Ranta put on thick gloves that protected her hands from the heat and carefully plucked each egg off the heated metal crate and put them back in their chest before closing the lid to trap some of the heat in there.
Laemyx and Vaemarr looked to their mother confused and received comforting pats on their growing heads after the Naylor discarded her gloves, " Looks like we're going for a little adventure boys, we can continue working on hatching the eggs while on the road." she assured them. "May I carry that for you?" Jorah asked reaching his hands out but Ranta shook her head, " It's alright, don't trouble yourself. I got it." Ranta assured, moving to carry the chest out but was stopped again by the man.
"I assure you, it is no trouble at all." Jorah insisted, holding out his hands again. The woman huffed lightly in slight amusement, "If you insist." she relented and handed the chest over to the man. With Ser Jorah carrying the chest out of her tent and into the night, Ranta and her children made quick work to make their way through the streets.
"I feel bad for not saying good-bye." Ranta whispered to Jorah, eyeing the tent Daenerys and Drogo were resting in, in the distance as they passed by. Jorah looked at the tent as well and nodded his head in agreement, "It plays on my conscious as well but if we were to tell them what we intended to do, they would only dissuade us from our endeavor." he explained.
The woman nodded her head in understanding, knowing his words held truth. "Going back to what you said about finding a way to pay for the Unsullied either by coin or trade...do you have any ideas?" Ranta questioned. The man thought for a moment before shaking his head, " We could always send out the riders to sack any cities we pass, but even then there would not be enough money. We will have to try and trade something."
The Naylor looked down at her eggs instinctively but then shook her head, "We'll figure it out the closer we get to Astapor. How long will it take to get there? A few weeks, months?" she guessed. "Considering we don't hit any bumps in the road, it will take about two weeks to reach Astapor more or less." Jorah estimated. "Well that's not too bad." Ranta acknowledged, "Have you ever been to Astapor before?"
Ser Jorah shook his head with a frown, "I'm afraid not, your grace. We'll be walking into the city blind." he regretted to inform her, though Ranta was not upset with her friend like he thought she would be. The small group continued to the outskirts of Vaes Dothrak and finally came across the small horde of four hundred riders with their horses and supplies sitting at the bottom of a hill a few miles away from the city gates just like Ser Jorah had promised.
"These people now follow and serve you, your grace, just as I do." Jorah spoke genuinely, "They believe in you, and trust that you can keep them safe." Ranta look a deep breath in and then exhaled slowly, " Best not let them down then." she muttered, blowing air into her sweaty palms and shook them out hoping to dry the excess sweat she felt building up.
The Mormont watched the woman do this with a quirked brow but did not question it. Ranta made her way down the hill and the closer she got, the more attention she gained from the horde. Members of the horde parted off to the side to clear a path for their new leader and the small posse made of two snakes and a solitary man carrying her dragon eggs.
"I appreciate you all coming tonight. But we have a lot of ground to cover," Ranta began loud enough for a good chunk of people near her to hear, Ser Jorah lacing his fingers together and helping Ranta up onto her horse before working on strapping the chest to her horse's rump as she spoke. " We need to be quick and silent as we get as much distance between us and Vaes Dothrak by sun rise as possible. By mid morning tomorrow, I would like us to be at a safe distance away to where we can pick up the pace." she told the group in front of her.
"Lead on then, little sister. We will follow wherever you go." an unknown Dothraki male encouraged, earning a chorus of controlled murmurs of agreement. Ranta smirked and turned to Ser Jorah who was now mounted on his own horse, "Let's get going then, we're wasting moonlight." she declared turning her horse and coaxing him to get going, knowing her new followers were at her back and her slithering children were leading the way in front of her.
About three days out into their journey to Astapor is when Ranta hit her first little stumble in the road, though it could hardly be called that. Two ravens had quickly tracked the leader of the small hijacked horde down and delivered two scrolls before flying off again. One had been from the Khaleesi and the other from the Khal alike, both letters only a few sentences in length. The one from Daenerys had been a bit threatening in Ranta's opinion though she could hardly expect less from the young Targaryen.
You and Ser Jorah will do well to return to me so I can kill you myself for abandoning me. The one written by Drogo however, was not so threatening as his wife's was. You nor any of my riders better not perish during this journey of yours, little sister. I wish you all the best of luck, the rest of the horde and I are riding behind you. May the Great Stallion ride with you as well.
Knowing that the original horde had no intentions of intercepting them during the trek to Astapor and the other great slave cities put Ranta's mind at rest. The good luck Ranta had seemed to be set on continually raking in had also played a part in brightening her mood further at the end of the first week of travel. The trio of dragon eggs had been much more active during the day and during the nights cracks in the shells would appear, Ranta swore she could even hear little cries every now and again coming from the chest.
Their final week of travel had come and gone in a blink of an eye and soon Ranta found herself being lead through the gates of Astapor with Ser Jorah by her side. Laemyx and Vaemarr had remained behind with the eggs and horde a few miles out of the city for obvious reasons, though she wished she had her children with her for a form of comfort.
The number of whippings and vicious beatings of the slaves dressed in leather collars and rags by their masters clad in brightly colored silk had been out of this world, and the fact that it was done out in the middle of the street no less was what really played on Ranta's mind. Yes the Dothraki whipped their slaves openly, but it had only been at a maximum of three to five hits because the slaves were needed to be able to walk on their own until the Khalasar stopped for the night. They had never done it so viciously either, not out in public anyways as far as Ranta knew.
As Ranta continued to survey her surroundings, a master and his female slave suddenly approached them. He too was dressed in the finest silks like every other noble man in the city while his slave wore a collar and rags that scantily covered her assets. When the man began speaking in a language Ranta could not heard in a while, she felt a flicker of panic flow through her. High Valyrian was a language she had not practiced in a while.
"You are the one they call Ranta, sister of the Dothraki?" the slave next to her master suddenly asked in a soft voice. The female had been about Ranta's height and age with pretty light brown skin, curly dark brown locks and eyes to match. "Yes, that's me." the Naylor confirmed. "This one presents Master Kraznys Mo Nakloz, leader of the Unsullied Owners." the translator introduced her master and though she really didn't want to, Ranta gave the man a respectful nod but was met with the back of the slave owner as he simply walked away.
"Rude boar fucker, I didn't have to give you any sort of acknowledgement." Ranta cursed under her breath and could of sworn that the cough Ser Jorah suddenly experienced was to cover the laugh he desperately wanted to release. Either unsure of what the strange woman had said or chose to ignore it, the slave motioned for them to follow after her master. "If you would please follow on, Your Grace." she requested.
"What is your name?" Ranta asked as they did as she wanted. The slave however did not respond, Ranta only caught a slight twitch of the servant's eye and conflicted look on her face before deciding to put an end to the poor girl's internal battle on wither or not to answer her. "Forget I even asked." the Naylor corrected and sped up the pace towards a wall and gated courtyard.
Rounding the corner, Ranta was greeted by the sight of seven by six rows of what had to be the infamous Unsullied soldiers she had heard so much about. They all had been clad in sharp edged black sleeveless armor, intimidating helmets, and bore round shields that did well to cover their torso and long spears that could easily skewer a man clad in armor or not.
"The Unsullied have stood here for a day and a night with no food or water. They will stand until they drop, such is their obedience." the apparently nameless slave translated for her master. So the fact that these men would stand until they died from starvation or dehydration was something to be proud of? As the group passed by, the Unsullied divided down the middle to make a pathway for them to walk down.
"What of their training?" Ranta tried and watched as an exchange between the Astaporians happen. The girl hadn't been able to answer Ranta until the group was standing over the Unsullied on a platform. "They begin their training at five. Every day they drill from dawn until dusk, until they have mastered the short and long swords, the shield, and the three spears. Only one boy in four survives this rigorous training. Their discipline and loyalty are absolute. They fear nothing." she shook her head.
"Even the bravest men fear death." Jorah countered smoothly, "Every living thing eventually fears death sometime in their life." he added. From the cross look that came over the slavers face after his slave girl translated, Ranta knew he hadn't appreciated the comment and snapped something back in their language. The collared woman had a conflicted look on her face at what she had been told, clearly she didn't want to pass along the cruel words.
After a quick but harsh scolding, the curly haired translator spoke. "The Unsullied are not men. Death means nothing to them." she paused as her master rose and walked up to a silent soldier. "My master begs you to watch this carefully, your grace." she requested on behalf of the man.
Kraznys made a soldier step forward, pushed his shield aside, grabbed the soldier's dagger and had begun cutting off one of his nipples. A sick, angry feeling over took Ranta's frame at the sight. What had been the gain to mutilate someone who was already obedient?! Whether Kraznys knew it or not, he would die before Ranta left Astapor with her Unsullied army. She would make sure of it.
"My master would point out, your grace, that men don't need nipples." The girl said quietly. "I am assuming that he does not have them either then." Ranta said openly, uncaring of who understood her or who didn't as she watched the soldier stand back in line obediently, showing no sign of a hint of pain at having his nipple cut off. "To win his shield, an Unsullied must go to the slave market with a silver coin, find a newborn, and kill it before its mother's eyes. This ensures that there is no weakness left in them." The girl explained, ignoring Ranta's early statement.
Ranta sighed through her nose heavily, waving a dismissing hand at nothing in particular, "How many are there to sell?" She asked evenly. "12,000 your grace. Eight thousand are fully trained, four thousand are not but are still up for sale. Master Kraznys asks that you decide by tomorrow how many you wish to buy, as there are many other buyers interested." The slave hurried off after her master who had departed seconds before, the Unsullied parting again to make way for the pair and when they had passed through.
"Come, Ser Jorah. I need to take a walk." Ranta declared with a thoughtful look and walked off towards the market with her friend at her heels.
0o.0o..0oo.0o0.
"What are you thinking, your grace?"
Jorah had been unable to take the silence anymore between the two, and had wanted to know what was going through that pretty blue head of hers. "I am thinking of how I am going to pay for twelve thousand slave soldiers. What are you thinking about?" Ranta returned with ease, uncaring of the goods being sold at the stands they passed by. Jorah held his hands behind his back as they walked, "The same as you, do you have any ideas?" he inquired. Ranta pondered for a moment, " I'm thinking of doing a trade like you suggested earlier before we left Vaes Dothrak to be honest with you." she revealed.
"What kind of trade?" Jorah asked as they traveled down a less populated street in the market but before his queen could answer, a pair of men who had been walking towards them suddenly bumped into Ranta. "Watch it, whore." the cloaked man growled angrily. "Mind your tongue!" Jorah was quick top hop to Ranta's defense, "You best learn some respect boy. You were the one who bumped into her." Jorah growled back, hand on sword.
"Never knew a man to protect a whore so fiercely," the stranger smirked along with his silent friend, " she must know how to ride your cock pretty damn well if you're willing to draw blood for her. Perhaps I should kill you and find out for myself and let my friend have a go when I'm finished."
Ranta's hand shot out to stop a seething Ser Jorah from pulling out his sword that was half way out of its sheath now. "Are you sure you boys want to go through with this?" she whispered lowly and looked at them pointedly. Storm clouds had moved in along with the rumble of thunder and strong winds at a rapid pace. The agitator smirked once more before lunging towards Ranta with his partner, swords drawn. In a flash Jorah roughly pushed his queen back, sending her stumbling to the ground as he fought off the two men by himself.
Lightning began striking in erratic spaces in the darkened sky, rain falling down on them at an alarming rate. Ranta pushed herself up threw herself into the fray, desperate to help her friend. The blue eyed Naylor tackled the distracted friend of the man who started the confrontation, sword clattering to the ground and out of his reach.
Ranta had never been in a fight her entire life, but she knew that if she kept hitting the man with everything she had in the face then she was bound to cause some form of harm to him. This tactic had only lasted for so long and within a few moments the man threw the woman off of him, unsheathing a hidden dagger from his boot.
Ranta blinked the rain water out of her eyes and watched the man with a dagger now charge towards her. A gasp escaped past her lips as the young woman scrambled out of the way of an attack that would of easily landed in her eye or head. The man recovered quickly from his failed attack and lunged for her again, but the moment he raised his dagger up in the air and ran for her- a single bolt of lightning dropped down on the piece of metal and effectively electrocuted her attacker.
The electrified man fell to the ground dead and unmoving a few seconds before his companion fell dead to Jorah's skilled hand with the sword. The slightly panting Mormont turned to his queen, a look of pure relief on his face when he seen her unharmed but wet form. The lightning had now halted but the rain was still coming down at a lighter but still steady pace.
Jorah sheathed his sword and made his way to her form still on the ground. Ranta shared his look of relief and held a hand out for him to grab to help her up, but as he bent down to help, Ranta noticed a third man charging towards them with a blade raised from over Jorah's shoulder. "Watch out!" the woman screamed in fear and yanked him to the ground with her a second before the stranger took a swipe at Jorah.
Losing his momentum and making to fall on top of Ranta, the woman kicked a leg up into his gut and flipped him over her head on instinct. Jorah rolled to his feet and was prepared to fight the additional man who had scrambled to his feet as well but before either could step forwards, a sword was suddenly sticking out from their attacker's gut.
Once the third man fell to the ground dead, it revealed a fourth cloaked person in the street who sheathed his sword and stood there passively. Without taking his eyes off of the man who had helped the duo, Jorah made his way over to Ranta and this time successfully helped her to her feet. "Are you okay, your grace?" Jorah asked breaking eye contact with the man to address the woman.
"Yeah, I'm okay." She assured him, "Are you?" she asked in return and once her friend nodded, they both turned to the hooded man before them. "Thank you for the help, kind ser." Ranta nodded her head in thanks. "The pleasure is mine, my queen." the man bowed his head and then lowered his hood to reveal his true identity. It turned out to be an elderly man with white hair, a stern face and blue eyes who had saved them but it looked like he could handle himself just fine.
Jorah took a step forward in disbelief as he took in the sight of the man standing before them, "I don't believe it." he breathed. Ranta looked to her right hand in confusion," Do you know him?" she asked. Jorah's face hardened as he nodded his head, "I do, your grace. He is a member of Robert Baratheon's King's Guard." he growled, his hand gripping the handle of his sword with a tight fist.
"Not anymore." The older man quickly denied, "He dismissed me when I protested against the plan to poison Daenerys Targaryen and kill the Naylor who protected her." he directed towards Jorah before turning to the solitary woman of the group, "My name is Barristan Selmy. I was a member of the old King's Guard, before he was killed." he told her before lowering his head in grief and shame, " Not only did I failed him, but I failed his entire family... I am determined to never let that happen again. Allow me to serve you, Lady Naylor, on your quest for the throne and I swear to you that I will not fail in my duties again."
0o.0o.0o..0
The journey back to the khalasar was silent and awkward to say the least, though Ranta was glad that she had gotten the rain to go away. It had been plainly obvious that Ser Jorah and Ser Barristan would both need to work on getting through their issues if they were to effectively serve her. But Ranta had no desire to rush the relationship. She just wanted to get back to her children, strip off her wet clothes and lay down for the night.
When the trio reached camp it was clear that the Dothraki were not spared of the storm's rage considering the huge puddles her horse trotted through and the lack of activity in the camp, most preferring to seek shelter than stand out in the rain though a few had ventured out when they heard the sound of horses approaching. Within seconds, the sound had been called out that, little sister, had returned with Jorah the Andal and a guest.
In response, her people flooded out of their tents and surrounded the trio as they navigated through the camp. Ranta smiled touched at the gesture and returned greetings to all that she could. Pulling her horse to a stop once they reached the center of the camp, Ranta dismounted her horse but soon climbed a top a nearby table to address her people.
"It warms my heart to see that no one was washed away with the storm." Ranta began with a chuckle, feeling a bit guilty that she had caused it in the first place but when she was met with laughter the feeling went away. " It also gives me a bit of pleasure to know that there are a hefty amount of Unsullied for sale, but when it comes to matters of payment...that is where we run into an issue." she frowned.
"The man I met was a cruel one, and unfair. I feel that even if we pooled all of our coin together and then some that it would not be enough for him. Twelve thousand Unsullied sit on the other side of those gates and we don't have enough coin to pay for them...so what do we do?" Ranta asked knowingly. "Slit the master's throat in his sleep?" a random voice called out, causing Ranta and many others to laugh.
"No, no we don't do that, though trust me it has crossed my mind." the woman said with a laugh. "Through trade?" another tried and was met with a nod. "Exactly. We trade. But what worldly possessions could possibly be worth twelve thousand Unsullied, ' the world's greatest soldiers'... though I believe that title belongs to the Dothraki." Ranta grinned and was met with loud and wild cheering.
Ranta raised a hand for silence a few moments later and was easily granted it. "When mid morning breaks tomorrow, I will need volunteers to come with me, Ser Jorah and Ser Barristan to head back into the city. If you would like to join us, be on the edge of the camp before we leave with what will be 'traded' ." she said the last part a bit mockingly before hoping down.
Ser Jorah and Ser Barristan had been waiting for her at the base of the table, both with hands clasped behind their backs. "You never did say what you intended on trading, your grace." Jorah commented as they walked after Ranta who did not acknowledge them at first. "I didn't." Ranta noted, "Ser Barristan, could you understand what I was saying in the slightest?" she turned away from the point at hand.
The two men exchanged glances at each other at the deviation, "Not in the slightest, your grace." he admitted, which was expected. "Ser Jorah you are to educate Ser Barristan on Dothraki language and culture as you have done for Daenerys and I. He cannot pass along orders if he cannot speak the language of my people" Ranta instructed without missing a beat and entered her tent, leaving the two dumbfounded men at its' entrance - unsure of to follow her in or not.
However, their plight was solved for them when Ranta poked her head back out. "Help him get situated in the camp as well? And find me an exceeding large crate that will require a team of six of our strongest horses to pull, and leave the them both at the base of the tent." Ranta instructed and then ducked back into her tent without waiting for a response. Releasing an exhausted sigh, Ranta worked on getting ready for bed - admittedly uncaring of the beckoning calls her children gave her.
"Mother's tired Vaemarr, Laemyx. She's had a hard day and will have a harder one tomorrow, she just wants rest." the Naylor proclaimed and fell back into her bed spread eagle and fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow. The two snake brothers looked at each other with a bit of worry before turning back to the eggs they had been adamantly vigilant over for quite some time.
Had Ranta paid attention to her sons and visited the eggs, she would of seen the small chip in the shell of the black egg and the orange eye that peered up at the two snakes standing over it.
0o.0o.0o..o00o.
It had been mere minutes before the meeting time Lady Ranta had set for her volunteers to meet her to head back into Astapor and the young leader had not been seen all morning. She had not even emerged from her tent, according to the guards patrolling during the night and early morning. Concerned, Jorah ventured around the large and long wooden crate partially in the tent and the team of six horses he had procured for her sitting a few feet from her tent and called out to her.
"Your grace?" Jorah called out, "It's time for us to go now." but received no response though he did hear strange noises coming from inside. Walking inside his queen's humble a bode, he was stunned to see what had been there to greet his eyes. There she was, in all of her blue haired Naylorian glory, Ranta seated on her bed fully dressed for the day but was surrounded not only by her children, but by three baby dragons as well.
The small black and red baby dragon had taken to roosting on top of Ranta's head while his green and tan siblings took to resting on her shoulders, each crying out for attention when they felt like one got more attention than the other did. "By the gods, old and new." Jorah breathed at the sight, effectively gaining the now enlarged family's attention.
"They all fully hatched around dawn." Ranta said lamely, petting the green one who nipped at her ear for attention but was soon scolded by Laemyx with a warning hiss. The infant recoiled fearfully and let out his own little cry to the larger beast who simply let out a snort that was strong enough to knock him off balance but not off Ranta's shoulder completely.
"You'll have to learn to pick your fights little one, your older brothers are not to be trifled with." The woman huffed in amusement before it fell and a more serious expression filled her features. "Shall we get going then, Ser Jorah? I'm sure everyone is ready to go by now?" she asked, placing each baby dragon on the bed and standing up, much to their displeasure.
"Yes, your grace. Everything is in order." Jorah replied, eye on the dragon siblings squabbling on the bed sheets now. "Thank you for your help, Jorah...now..." Ranta made a shooing motion with her hand and smiled. "Go meet me in the waiting spot, I know you have been dying to know what I intend to trade and I can't ruin the surprise now." she said slyly.
The Mormont hesitated but nodded altogether before ducking out of the tent and to do as commanded. Amusement falling from her face, Ranta turned to her recently enlarged family somberly. As if sensing her mood, the trio of dragons stopped playing and looked up at their mother confused as Vaemarr and Laemyx moved up to her, ducking their heads under her hands comfortingly.
"It pains me to do this, it really does, especially when your new brothers just came into the world." the blue eyed woman smiled sadly, running her hands over their hard plated skin. Her eldest children hummed intelligently, hoping to reassure her that they were fine with what was about to happen. "I love you all equally, and with the way my love life is going, you will be the only children I will ever have." Ranta whispered with a smirk though her eyes held sadness.
The black dragon who had been the oldest of his dragon siblings suddenly lead the charge of shakily sliding down the side of Ranta's bed, tearing the sheets as they slowly lowered their selves to the floor using their hooked wings. Waddling up to their mother and older brothers, the trio looked up at the older members of the family confused as to why such sadness had suddenly taken place.
Snorting lightly, Ranta lowered herself to her knees and caught the tan dragon who leapt into her arms. "I suppose I could name you before I leave, it would be unkind if I didn't." the woman murmured to herself. "You," she held up the tan dragon in her arms before her, "Can be called...Rhaegal." she declared and put him down before picking up the green one next.
"You little one, can be called...Viserion." she dubbed and then deposited him on the ground before picking up the final dark colored dragon with red tints on his body. "And you, little ser can be named..." she trailed off and tilting her head to the side, causing him to do the same. " You will be known as Drogon, all of you are named after people who meant a great deal to me while Laemyx and Vaemarr are named after the figurative human children I should have by now." she chuckled bitterly before placing Drogon on the floor and standing again.
"Now." she sighed heavily and patted the portion of the wooden crate in the tent, " Come Laemyx, you know what to do." she prompted the eggshell colored snake. The giant serpent obeyed without hesitation and slithered into the crate's depths, unbothered by the darkness that encased him when Ranta placed the lid in place over the opening.
Drogon, Viserys and Rhaegal all tottled up to the crate confused as to why their mother locked Laemyx in and why he had let her, letting out small cries of protest. "Now, now, hush darlings. He's okay," Ranta assured, silencing the cries. " We're just going on a trip is all and I need to keep him hidden until the right time. We'll be back before you know it. Listen to your older brother Vaemarr and stay out of trouble." she said pointedly before giving her four remaining children affection and exited the tent, grabbing the lead horse's reigns and gave a pull to encourage the team of six to get moving.
The hooved animals protested at the weight at first, but with a bit of coaxing, was able to maintain a groove and dragged the crate holding an over sized armored snake along the ground and to the meeting spot with the aid of Ranta. "Is all well, your grace?" Ser Barristan asked mounted upon a black steed similar to Ser Jorah's when Ranta finally made an appearance besides the two men and her group of volunteers, the team of six trailing after her.
"Of course." Ranta answered as Ser Jorah dismounted and offered his laced fingers for her to use. Ranta accepted the help and mounted her horse, releasing her grip on the reins of the team of horses-knowing they would follow the rest of the way to the city. "Shall we?" Ranta asked, kicking her tan colored horse into action and leading the large group onwards once Jorah was on his horse. The travel to the city didn't take them long at all and soon she was riding through the gates of Astapor and was met by the slave girl from the other day who was now clothes decently in a tan and blue dress and cloak combination.
"Good morning your grace," she bid with a dip of her head as Ranta, Ser Jorah, Ser Barristan dismounted their horses and were taken away by a Dothraki member to keep track of during the meeting. "Good morning." Ranta returned with ease, stroking the noses of the lead horses affectionately, grateful for their work so far. A Dothraki warrior stepped up and took the reigns of the team for Ranta, who earned a grin in thanks and received one herself from the man.
"If you would please follow me, my master has the Unsullied gathered for you." the translator explained before turning and walking away with her hands clasped neatly in front of her. The female slave lead the group of visitors through the city and to a very large courtyard that was clearly large enough to hold twelve thousand Unsullied, the noble masters of the cities and some normal city soldiers. The Unsullied Barracks no doubt. Kraznys Mo Nakloz was standing on another stage in front of the hardened soldiers with a golden flagon styled into a naked woman whose arms were styled into wings above her head.
Ranta wouldn't lie and say that she hadn't been a bit intimidated by the thousands of men trained to kill standing behind her as she walked past. "My master would like to remind you that not all of them are trained, and he suggests that you blood the unexperienced ones early. There are many small cities for you to test them out on during sackings, and if you take captives then the masters will take the healthy ones for a good price. In good faith that such future actions will take place between the Little Sister of the Dothraki and Astapor, he has gifted me to you to be put to use however you see fit." the curly haired woman finished as they came to a stop before the grand master of the Unsullied.
Ranta said nothing as she watched the slaver in front of her with blank eyes, unbothered by the judging eyes of the noble people of Astapor and unbothered by the look Kraznys was giving her. Abruptly turning, Ranta walked past Ser Jorah and Barristan and up to the large crate that had been pulled around by the horses and undid the lid, dropping the slab to the ground with an audible thud and sending dirt flying.
A deep, menacing hissing filled the air for all in the court yard to hear and Ranta took steps backwards as she seen the tan eyes of Laemyx coming closer to her. Gasps and screams filled the air as the nobles watched the monstrous beast this outsider had brought into their beloved city, slither out of its' crate. The city soldiers braced themselves to attack the serpent but looked as though they would rather run far away than battle the creature. Jorah, Barristan, Ranta's new slave and Kraznys looked at the sight before them in pure disbelief.
The white behemoth at full height currently, shadowed a foot above Ser Jorah's head and was twice as thick as the man. A pink tongue flickered in and out as the snake tasted the air and rows of sharp pointed teeth visible to all as Laemyx hissed testily about the screaming and blatant stares. "Laemyx, play nice. Now come." Ranta spoke quietly, ignoring the unhappy growl he released and walked back up to a frozen Kraznys.
"I trust that he is enough payment for all twelve thousand Unsullied? You'll have to forgive me for not putting him in a chain," Ranta pet her child with ease who had come to a stop next to her and stared down his ' new master' evenly, "but he is far from being done with growing and constantly swapping out chain sizes is inconvenient. You can go through the trouble if you like but I assure you he is well trained. Very obedient." Ranta assured with a smile.
It was silent for a moment, frowning, Ranta turned towards the translator and looked at her pointedly. Blushing, the girl snapped out of it and quickly translated what she said. Once she was done, the Unsullied owner shot a hand out expectantly, grinning wildly at the thought of owning such a beast. Laemyx obeyed and allowed the man to touch his head, though Ranta knew he would of rather set him on fire or swallow him whole. Kraznys laughed loudly as he pet the snake and all but shoved the golden flagon into Ranta's hands as he turned his full attention to Laemyx.
Ranta grabbed the flagon and turned to her new army, ignoring the burning sensation of Barristan and Jorah staring at her as she walked away from her child. Coming to a stop before the silent soldiers, Ranta took a deep breath in and then bellowed out, "Unsullied!". The enslaved men snapped their feet together and brought their shield up to torso level in synch with one another, standing in attention to their new leader.
Shock ran through Ranta's party at the sound of her using Valyrian, that was now three languages under her belt. Was there no language she did not know or could not learn? "Forward march!" Ranta barked out, watching carefully as the legion of Unsullied moved forwards five steps with no blips before calling out, "Halt!" and watched them stop upon command.
This was nice. This was very nice.
Laemyx suddenly hissed and jerked away from Kraznys, unhappily. Frowning, the man began to shout angrily. "This bitch's beast will not hold still, tell her to get him a chain or she will not get an army."
"Laemyx does not belong in a chain, he is not nor will he ever be a slave." Ranta frowned heavily, watching a disbelieving look fill the slavers face at the sound of her using his mother tongue. "You speak Valyrian?!" he demanded outraged. "My name is Ranta Naylor. Protector, life long friend and sister in all but blood of Daenerys Targaryen who is the blood of old Valyria. Valyrian is her mother tongue and in turn is mine." Ranta sneered to the speechless man, not missing the smug look his former slave threw him and the proud look Ser Jorah was throwing her. Ranta turned back to her army of twelve thousand, a hard look to her eye.
"Unsullied." she called again, watching as the men in front of her waited for her commands patiently. "Slay the masters, slay the soldiers, slay every living being who holds a whip in their hand but no woman or child is to be harmed." The Mormont was looking out amongst the Unsullied with a weary look, slowly reaching for his sword instead something went awry in Ranta's orders, "Strike the chains off every single slave in this city!" and with the Naylor's last command, the hardened men leapt into action.
One of them shoved his spear into the chest of a passing by master who clearly hadn't been paying attention to what the woman had commanded. At this, Ser Barristan unsheathed his sword and braced himself moments before another master met the same fate. When seeing such acts, Kraznys grew hysterical, "I am your master, Kill her! Kill her KILL HER!" he finished with a desperate bellow.
Ranta smoothly turned to the man behind her and smirked. "Laemyx...Ignite." she grinned wickedly, drawing attention to the snake who had been causing a ruckus with his roars and hisses the entire time his mother had been giving out orders. Obeying her will, the eggshell colored snake inhaled air and exhaled his beautiful deep green fire upon the pathetic man.
At the sign of the first attack, the whole Unsullied unit took this chance to spring into action, causing the city guards and civilian spectators to tense and attempt to fight or run away in fear. "Let none escape! They all die today!" Ranta yelled over Kraznys' dying screams as he fell to the ground, unable to support himself any longer on charred legs. The legion ran down the soldiers and the fleeing masters and quickly ended the weak fight they put up in a last ditch effort to survive.
Laemyx roared and burst into action himself, slithering up walls and burning any thing he could with his green fire as his mother stood watching on with a hard look to her face. Jorah and Barristan watched around them carefully, protecting the meek translator incase any should approach with unpleasant intentions.
0o.0o.0o.
By sundown, Astapor had completely fallen to Ranta. The only ones who left alive in the city were women, children, common people while the Unsullied remained behind with Ranta and her group. Walking through row after row of Unsullied, observing them for any damage taken and ultimately finding none through a majority, Ranta had suddenly spotted her horse being held by an Unsullied soldier a few rows up and raced up to them. Silently thanking the man, Ranta mounted the light colored steed and gave a slight squeeze of her heels to his sides.
"Unsullied! All your life you have been slaves, but today is different." she rode her horse throughout the rows," Today you are free. Did I come here hoping to have you all as my soldiers? Yes I did, there is no need to lie to you about that. After hearing the injustice that has been done to not only you, but to the dead little boys who did not survive training, to the infants you were forced to kill to earn your shields and to every slave I've ever encountered has made me reconsider. From now on, I vow to dedicate my life to making sure that no child born into Slavers Bay and beyond will never know what it is like to be trapped in chains and those who are slaves now will be set free so long as I have the power to do it. I will right the wrong that has happened to the people of the slave cities. I will fight for those who cannot, justice will be served with every injustice! If any man wishes to leave, I do not blame him. Nor will harm come upon him, he will be sent off with good fortune and supplies to last him until he reaches the next city to start his life anew. But to those who do not wish to leave...I ask you now, will you help me in this fight? Will you fight for me as free men?" Ranta finished strongly.
A heart beat later, the sound of a single spear pounding into the sandy earth filled the air. Ranta turned to pinpoint it, but the single spear was soon followed by dozens, hundreds and then finally thousands of others. Smirking to herself, Ranta observed her army of free men she had obtained without a single coin spent or trade.