Volantis was drunk on war.

The journey to the city had been long and arduous, but the city was like nothing that Marghaz had ever seen. New Ghis, Meereen, Astapor and Yunkai, none of them had anything on Volantis, which spanned the delta of the Rhoyne and spread out in almost every direction, a mass of stone buildings, some sinking under their own weight into the mud on the shore, others standing tall and proud. It was said that one in five men in the city were slaves. He could believe it.

But it was also celebrating the victories it had achieved. Men in tiger pelts were putting on puppet show of battles, storytellers were regaling children with tales of the brave soldiers of Volantis and criers were singing the praises of the Tiger Party, Volantis' militant elite. Even from the ship he could see that there were crude paintings of tigers. He marvelled at it. In New Ghis, the citizens would turn out for a victory celebration, but never was this level of war fervour in the streets, never this level of support among the free people.

It was glorious.

The ships were moving in to Volantis' harbour, being directed in where they land by the harbour masters. The Ghiscari Fleet, or the part of it that was transporting their legions, supplemented by ships dispatched from Volantis, put into port in a harbour into which you could drop New Ghis itself without troubling the walls.

Marghaz was the first to disembark, accompanied by his bodyguard force. He noticed the looks that the soldiers were getting from the Volantene citizenry, who did not seem to know what to make of this new force of soldiers, garbed in armour they had not seen before. "Consul Marghaz!" He turned to see a man in ostentatious dress approaching. He took Marghaz's hand in his and shook it heartily. "Thank the gods you are here," he said. "Thank them all. The general has been looking forwards to your arrival with great anticipation, he sent me here to bring you to him as soon as you arrived."

"I have to see to my men and their disembarking, emissary," he told the man, raising his steel hand to silence him. He had just noticed the collar tattooed onto his neck. This man was a slave.

"But... but Consul," the slave said, wringing his own hands now, and beginning to sweat profusely. "The general wishes-"

"The general will wait," Marghaz insisted. "My men will deploy outside the city, and I will oversee this, then I will go to the general."

He ignored the rest of the slave"s protests. The general, whoever he is, thought to send a slave to greet me, the arrogance. If he wanted my attention so badly, he should have come himself. Disembarking one legion was hard enough, but as Consul of the entire force he had to ensure that both disembarked without issue. Thankfully, Orrahz didn't seem to need much instruction and got on with his task at once.

He smiled as his new organisational system was working. Each Tribune marched their block of five hundred men, or a thousand if they were the first cohort, down the streets in good formation. It could be improved, but it was certainly getting better. The criers immediately changed their tunes when the army began passing. Clearly they had been told in advance of the reinforcements, for they instantly started praising New Ghis and it's assistance to the Volantene cause. Soon the citizens themselves began to cheer as the legions marched down their streets with all their packs and equipment. Once they had made their way out of the gate to assemble on the plains beyond the city, Marghaz turned back to the slave, who had followed him on foot while he was on his horse, and said, "now you can take me to the general.

They made their way back through Volantis, towards the large black wall. He had read up on Volantis on the journey over, only those of the old blood could live behind them, and only by invitation could you enter without it. However they came passed a burned out husk that was in the process of being torn down. "What happened there?" He asked the slave.

"The Old Temple to the Lord of Light. The priests rebelled against the honourable and noble Triarchs, and the Golden Company purged them in punishment." Marghaz raised his eyebrows. That was quick thinking of the Triarchs, they had snuffed a rebellion before it spread to the rest of the city, judging by the state of the rest of it in any case. Thankfully the Masters of Ghis were not so forward thinking, if they were, then he would be dead by now.

Upon entering the Black City, he found it much better organised, much cleaner and much brighter than the rest of the city. The slave led him and his bodyguards past armed soldiers at the gate, who eyed them warily.

They dismounted at the foot of a dark brick building off the main square of the Black City. The noblemen gathered around eyed him with suspicion, but he ignored them as he was led the building by the slave. Inside it was sparsely decorated, which surprised him, but he was taken to a side room and the slave opened the door. "Please Consul," he said meekly. "Enter."

Marghaz nodded and entered the room.

Inside was a stone table with a map of the free cities lain out on it, various figurines placed around it, representing the various forces of the powers involved in the war. "You've arrived."

He turned to see that there was a man standing by the fire, a familiar man. "You," Marghaz breathed. It was the general who had led Volantis' force to join the Targaryen host in Meereen. He was warming his hands by the fire.

"Yes," he replied, turning to Marghaz with a smile. "Me. I see it is unexpected." Marghaz didn't reply to that. "I must admit I was surprised when your name was given to me. To rise from a second in command to a Consul of an entire campaign in such a short space of time, most impressive."

"Thank you," Marghaz replied. "But Volantis called on us for more than just pleasantries I believe."

The general nodded. "Yes, the Triarchs did sign the alliance. I agreed with their choice, and we do have a war to win I suppose."

"What authority do you have over the Triarchs in matters of war?" Marghaz asked. He didn't want to discuss plans with someone who did not have the authority to enact them

The general chuckled. "Triarch Malaquo is old, Triarch Alios has no experience and Triarch Nyessos is an Elephant. They allow me to direct the war myself, with minimal oversight."

"Then what do I call you?" Marghaz asked. If they were on an even footing, or if this man was his commander, then it would do to know his name.

"I am General Vhalasso. Now, let us approach the map, and we can discuss matters of the sword."

They approached the map. There were tiger head figures around Volantis and Myr, while much cruder figures of soldiers were placed on Lys, Tyrosh, Qohor and Norvos, there were also ships Lys and up on the Rhoyne, with a smaller number around Volantis itself. "I suppose I should give you an overview of the war so far," he said, looking at Marghaz, who nodded. That seemed reasonable.

"The war was going very well, at least at first; Myr and Lys were in disarray from the Dragonfire, and as such easy pickings. Our army had descended on Myr before they knew what had happened, it fell easily. We had hoped for a similar result in Lys, within a year, we could re-establish our empire of old. We only had to wait for our fleet to return from Lys in order to do so."

"Weren"t you on that fleet?" Marghaz asked. The man was speaking like he had partaken in the assault, but he was on the other side of Valyria.

He nodded. "I was, but Malaquo was able to take advantage of things as they are. He sent another commander to Myr."

Marghaz nodded in understanding, then tapped his steel hand next to Lys. "Those aren't tiger heads," he commented. "I suppose from that that the campaign to take Lys failed."

Vhalasso shook his head. "It never materialised. We were blindsided." He sighed. "When our army came, Myr begged Tyrosh for assistance, but they did not come, the sole extent of their help for Myr was to take in the nobles who were able to flee by ship, and their wealth. Instead of helping Myr, they sent their fleet around the Stepstones and moved on Lys."

"Lys?" Marghaz asked confused. "They attacked someone with whom they would have common cause."

Vhalasso grimaced. "Attacked implies there was a battle. That was not the case. Our spies have revealed that Tyrosh has hired a sellsword commander, skilled in war by what we can judge, to run their campaign for them. It was his decision to attack Lys. The Lyseni opened their gates and allowed the Tyroshi occupation. The Tyroshi were able to force the Lyseni to fall in line and help them recover, putting us against two united cities instead of two disjointed ones."

"You sound bitter."

"In truth," the General replied. "We had no plans to fight Tyrosh as yet, we would first consolidate our rule over the other two. But now the stakes have risen, we must go all in." He pointed at the disputed lands. "This sellsword commander has true talent, he has already struck back at us and eliminated the possibility of taking Tyrosh and Lys both, which was the main reason that we called on you and your legions."

"How so?" Marghaz asked.

Vhalasso pointed to the disputed lands. "The Tyroshi landed a force of sellswords, Myrish exiles and a few Lyseni and Tyroshi forces to the disputed lands. Our army in Myr marched out to face them. We were able to throw them back to the south, they cannot threaten the city again, but the army at Myr now needs to hold it"s ground there. They lack the forces to hold it and launch an attack elsewhere."

This sellsword commander was impressing Marghaz more and more by the second, whoever he was, he was skilled. "What about the other Free Cities?" Marghaz asked. "They surely aren't about to stand by and let Volantis gain complete control in the south?"

Vhalasso shook his head. "No, and they are only compounding our problems. Pentos may be bound by an arms limitation from Braavos, but they still have more than enough coin to finance a war, and they are loaning much to Tyrosh."

"I assume that means Sellswords?" Marghaz asked.

"Some," Vhalasso confirmed. "But not all, indeed the Tyroshi commander is making good use of the coin of the Myrish exiles, many of whom perished in the battle in the disputed lands, allowing him to seize it for the campaign. That, together with the coin "requisitioned for the war" from the Lyseni treasury, and from Pentos and Tyrosh's own coffers, has allowed them to hire thousands of sellswords, but that was not the worst they did with the coin. Envoys were dispatched to Norvos and Qohor, both of whom have marshalled in aid of the Tyroshi. River fleets are ready on the Rhoyne, and we suspect Norvoshi and Qohorik soldiers will be fighting alongside the Tyroshi in their next attempt to liberate Myr."

It was no wonder that master thought that he would die in this campaign. With every word the general said the odds were stacking against Volantis. Four of the nine free cities were fighting them, another was financing them as well. "What about Braavos?" He asked. If Braavos was also providing coin, then they had no hope.

"So far, we have heard nothing of the city of bankers getting involved," Marghaz sighed with relief. "But that may change if we cannot turn the war around soon."

Marghaz looked at him. He did not look as concerned as Marghaz felt. "Do you have a plan to make that happen?"

He nodded. "Taking Lys under their wing was Tyrosh's master stroke. Our fleet may be larger, but as long as they control the seas around the disputed lands, we cannot attack Tyrosh. Make no mistake; once Tyrosh is knocked out of the war, victory is ours. The Pentoshi will not be able to resist us and will sue for peace, and Norvos and Qohor will back out as well."

"You think so?" Marghaz asked.

He smiled. "Part of my plan is to break Norvos and Qohor on the Rhoyne, if that doesn't knock them out then the defeat of their benefactor will."

"That is part of your plan?" Marghaz picked up on that. "What is the rest?"

"As I said, as long as Lys stands, Tyrosh is safe. Lys is a hard nut that must be cracked before the war can continue."

Marghaz paused, but the general did not continue. "Is that all?" He asked.

"All for now," he said. "To plan too far ahead is to plan defeat. For now, we shall focus ourselves with the defeat of Lys and the Rhoynish attackers. This is where you come in."

Marghaz turned to him to find the general looking at him. "Me?" Marghaz asked.

Vhalasso nodded. "Yes. I know I could win on either of these fronts. That leaves you. Which do you want to follow? Would you rather take Lys for this alliance, or break Qohor and Norvos on the Rhoyne?"

Marghaz looked over the map. If he was to break Norvos and Qohor on the Rhoyne, he would have to command a river fleet, which he had no experience doing. It was true to say that he also had no experience commanding seaborne ships, but the Volantene Fleet admirals could do that, and he was at Astapor and Meereen, he knew enough about siege warfare to take the city, at least more than he knew about battles on the Rhoyne. "I will march through the disputed lands," he said. "I'll sail to Lys, and then I'll conquer it."

The general did not debate, did not ask if he was sure, he only nodded. "Very well. But before you go, do you have any questions?"

Marghaz looked back at the map. He noticed a wooden horse, stationed not far north of Volon Therys, a town north of the city under the authority of Volantis. "What is that?" He asked.

"The Dothraki Khalasar of Khal Pono," the general said. "It will not impede you, I will take enough gold to pay them off if we meet on the march north."

Marghaz raised his eyebrows. The Dothraki were a warrior people, did they truly want to risk meeting them in battle. But he seemed confident that he could buy them off. "How large is it?"

"At best count, thirty thousand riders."

He whistled. "I wish you the best of luck then." He would not envy the man who had to battle thirty thousand hardened, war-bred warriors. "What about my campaign?" He asked his next question, and the most important. "How much control do I have over it?"

"Almost total," Vhalasso told him. "You will have to fly the banner of Volantis alongside your own, but other than that, the ships that go with you will obey your commands, I will see to that."

"And the men?"

"You will only be fighting with your own," Vhalasso informed him. "I can spare no men from Volantis' garrison, my army or the army in Myr to assist you, apart from the soldiers on the ships."

That surprised him. "I thought that Volantis had a large population, and could draw more from the surrounding areas."

"We do," the general said, "and we can. But many who followed the Lord of Light answered Daenerys Targaryen's call for an army."

"What?" Marghaz had not expected to hear that name again, not here, not in this context.

"You haven't heard?" Vhalasso asked, incredulous. "She sent out a call for followers of the Lord of Light to join her in an invasion of Westeros, she recently departed with a huge army. Unfortunately so many answered her call that we face a shortage of available bodies ready for war."

Marghaz gritted his teeth. That would be why Volantis called on them. He would relish the chance to meet Daenerys Targaryen in battle and do what Djoran could not, but he had a duty here. "Then I have no more questions," he said.

Vhalasso nodded and held out his hand. Marghaz seized the arm in a tight grip and they nodded to each other. "Then I wish you the best of luck, Consul Marghaz."

"And I you, General Vhalasso."

Back with his legions, he and Orrahz overlooked them all, standing in neat formation outside the walls of the city. "They look magnificent, don't they?" Marghaz asked, beaming with pride.

Marghaz nodded. "Yes, Consul," Orrahz agreed. "They do indeed."

Marghaz sensed something from Orrahz, the legate was holding something in. "You have something you wish to say," he said. "Say it legate Orrahz."

He could sense the discomfort from the man. "It's just... the Masters, will they take kindly to this restructuring?"

"They will," Marghaz replied, "or they will not. But it doesn't matter, this is the best chance for the Legions."

"How so?"

Marghaz rested his hand on Orrahz's shoulder before indicating the legions before them. "It is my hope that, one day, all the Legions shall be great again, able to march anywhere and win any war. But that will take time, and freedom. The Masters have, perhaps unwittingly, given us both here. They cannot afford to pull us back, or they harm their new alliance with Volantis. And while we are here, we are away from Masters who might seek to enforce oversight on us."

"And this war will grant opportunities to forge this new legion, and test it against all foes."

He smiled. "Very good legate Orrahz."

"But... won't that result in death for legionnaires."

"Some would say, the masters in particular, that it is the job of a legionnaire to die in the glory of New Ghis. Besides," he continued. "All change comes at a cost, I will do my best to keep that cost as low as possible." He looked out over the shining metal armour of his legionnaires. "We are the furthest from the corrupting influence of the Masters," he told Orrahz. "The birth of a new kind of legion... the idea of a legion that can war in any place against any foe. It has to begin here, now."