The Tartered Dragon - Aegon, Son of Baelon

by mootjeman7

An man from our world is reborn in the world of ASOIAF and decides to make the best out of it through adventure yet it never is that easy, even for a third prince. OC-SI - Overlaps with HOTD.

25. Chapter 24

TruthOnlyReader - There'll be a visit to Westeros before he returns to Elamaerys ;)

g14chandra - Jaehaerys is a little butterfly effect. Otto and the Hightowers are quite concerned I'd say with their current position and Alicent is made to be more...proactive, shall we say.

Tony McNucklz- Re Astapor...this chap will satisfy you, I think, haha. Ps, I love your comment about Daemon's and Viserys' thinking about thier brother :).

Zerias - Unfortunately, I am only human. I can't write that much, that fast!

Everyone else, thank you for your reviews and comments, I always read them even if I don't respond to them. As always, please enjoy this chapter and let me know what you think.

Note: If you would like to read ahead, the next three chapters after this chapter are available on P^A^T^R^E^O^N / Boombox117

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Mid to Late 112 AC – Astapor, Slaver's Bay

Zimine POV

She'd not seen such chaos in all her time alive when claims came of a fleet of hundreds of ships sighted sailing towards the ports of Astapor.

The Plaza of Pride had been a place a-storm, high born guards with their oily horned shaped hair and Unsullied alike made readied for a siege, the frenzied bellows of her master stinging at all their senses.

Yet, those bellows came at an end when, of all things, a primal terrifying roar could be heard, a bone-rattling roar, and she had wondered, if it must have been heard at the farthest ends of the horizon, and, in the stead of anger, for the first time ever, she'd seen a fear show itself on her master's face at the sound and sight of a huge beast the colour of steel and brim fire flying over the fleet of ships.

The sun had turned towards high noon when the ships, its sails bearing a coiled ring of what seemed to be eight dragon heads, clogged up the entrance of the browned and redded sea at the ports, ominous and dangerous, and none dared to escape the blockade. Not the merchants or the few cogs of war.

"Those sails. I recognise the sigil. It belongs to that sister-fucker who claims to have found land in the West. He's changed it not long ago." One of the Good Masters said as they stood atop the high red bricked walls of Astapor, the strong scents of honey and raspberry perfumes of the assembled masters dominating all other smells.

"The lying sunset savage who buys slaves and claims he sets them free?" another asked disdainfully. She felt a strange stir in her heart at those words, a no good stir she quickly burnt as dead as ash, her head unchangingly bowed, eyes fixed cast to the ground, her hands unwaveringly keeping steady the striped silk awn that protected the head of her master from the harsh sun that beat at her browned naked back.

"Yes, that Valyrian fool" another said, Gizlohr zo Zhasnak, she recognised from the hoarse and high voice, a voice ruined, it is said, by his shouts and rages at the slaves at his famed gladiatorial training estate. "Why does he darken our steps?"

"He is here to treat with us." Good Master Gondel mo Huqqi said. "He has been here for some time yet but does not attack. We must send a ship to approach."

"We do not come at the beck and call of a sunset savage" one of the Good Masters sneered before he scoffed "Least of all, a weakhearted fool. Let him come to us and beg for our audience."

"And that flying beast? The beast that is as big as those carracks? And pray tell us Zhirdiq, what ever shall do we about that beast whose master you are intent on offending? The last who offended him was the Pirate Saan of the Basilisk Isles and they all burned." the old Good Master Azhar mo Ozdak mocked.

None of the Good Masters immediately responded to those words.

"We must treat with him. He may or may not be a weakhearted savage but he pays and he pays well and is known not to act in bad faith on a deal." One of the Good Masters said.

She heard their clothes stir, mayhaps of discomfort. She could not be sure.

"If we can be sure he is here to treat." Good Master Gizlohr zo Zhasnak said sceptically.

"What else could it be?" One of the Good Masters asked. "If the savage was here to attack, he'd done so already. He has not and the savage, as Good Master Grodnihr says, is known for his merchant ways. The rule of coin, for all that he is a savage, this one understands."

"He is also known for his filthy sympathies for livestock." Another Good Master pointed out disdainfully.

"And yet he destroyed a corsair town of thousands of the Basilisk Isles, women and children alike." Good Master Azhar mo Ozdak said coldly "That is not someone who is as weakhearted or foolish as some of you are led to believe. He is not someone we can afford to slight."

Good Master Azhar mo Ozdak continued, his voice still cold as he spoke further "No, he is here for one thing only. He is here to buy the Unsullied. It is said that he seeks war with Myr for an old feud. I believe it."

The Good Masters seemed to talk between themselves for a moment until one of the Good Masters spoke up. "The Great Masters and the Wise Masters will take great offence." The Good Master warned and others made noises of agreement.

"Let them." Good Master Azhar mo Ozdak scoffed derisively. "What use is a petty agreement not to trade flesh with the savage when we have his fleet of near enough two hundred ships and a grown dragon at our gates?"

"I agree with Good Master Azhar." Her master, the Good Master Krednos mo Nakloz, said, the tang of satisfaction clear to hear in his voice. "And we can soothe their offence by charging the fool more than I would any other."

"Of course you agree." Good Master Gizlohr zo Zhasnak said in a sneering voice "You and them" he said, his silk clothes rustling and she thought he was gesturing towards the other Good Masters who oversaw the training of the Unsullied alongside her master "stand to gain much wealth from this."

"Wealth that will go back into Astapor, my beloved friend." Her master said with a smiling voice.

"Wealth that we will need to buy more of your good infant stock. After all, we will need thousands of more of the livestock to create the next lot of Unsullied." Good Master Grazdan zo Lihzuz said and chuckles rang around at the jest.

Her head remained bowed as their talking turned.

By the time the sun moved past high noon, the ship the Good Masters had sent returned with word alongside one of the sunset ships that the Sunset Prince wished to purchase the Unsullied. All of the Unsullied.

Her master and the other Good had delighted at that, the thought of a sea of gold marks pocketed making them and him happier than she ever remembered seeing a master being. The sunset ship went with a set price of one and half million gold marks, a price the ship returned with word that the Sunset Prince had agreed with the price.

"Gizlohr better breed his bitches well for we will have great need soon." Zhiknes zo Shilazn said to her master and the Good Masters.

"Do we truly wish to sell them all?" one of the Good Masters asked. "It's never been done before."

"None had the coin or want to do it." Her master said "That is the only difference." And so the Good Masters settled, happy to think on the coin they were to make.

Her master and the other Good Masters took her and many other girls with them outside to the front gates to the Plaza of Punishment, a place whose platforms she walked passed were empty and empty of wails for need of the space though their warm blood still stains the wood and their stench lingers still.

All the Unsullied would be gathered here, for there was no other space large enough to hold so many of them, and they stood waiting at the gates as one of the ships moved to harbour, deeper into the harbour and deeper into the worming river, the sight of the dragon long gone from their sights, surrounded by a contingent of high born guards and Unsullied.

"The beast must have tired" her master said to the other masters and they mocked and joked with the high born guards, their mocking words rang alongside their laughter, mocking words that made way for a while when the masters and her master spoke of all of what they would with the coin that'd soon be theirs, plots and schemes against their rivals and the rival cities, only ceasing once the armoured cladded men were less than fifty paces away from them, though they did not spare mocking at the foreigners who must be boiling in their clothing of steel.

She cast a curious gaze at the six and twenty men, these foreigners, who walked ahead of four and twenty behind them who carried, between them, six heavy crates.

Their polished and coloured steel armour shone with the haze of the afternoon sun, their brows red and wet with sweat. Some had shields on their backs but all wore their swords on their hips, even the crate carrying men.

Their head of hair betrayed their origin. Silver and blond and brown and ink black, the colours of the Free Cities and the lands of the Sunset Kingdoms.

She noted all of them were fair-skinned and fair of eyes, blues and greens and greys were abound in the eyes of these men, men that had shadows of hair touch their cheeks on faces that were as severe as the harsh sun.

"Before you stands Good Master Krednos mo Nakloz, the Magnificent." One of the high born guards called out before proceeding to call out the exuberant names of all the masters as the foreigners came to a stop before them.

Her master and the other masters looked confused as they looked toward the foreign men. "Who is the Targaryen Prince amongst you?" her master asked.

"None of us are Prince Aegon." One of them spoke up, the handsome man with the looks of Old Valyria, in the old High Valyrian tongue. "I am Ser Galaenys, a knight in service to Prince Aegon, like the other men with me."

"Knights." One of the good masters said with surprise.

"Yes…I heard of men such as you." One of the good master gestured towards the high born guards. "These men are like you, Ser Galaenys, good Ghiscari noble men who serve me and Astapor." he said with a welcoming smile.

"Though, I expect they are better taken care of than how the blooded ones such as yourself are taken care of in your Sunset Kingdoms." Grazdan zo Lihzuz said in a laugh though none of the foreigners found it funny.

Her master glanced unimpressed at the master who spoke and he quieted down under the gaze of her master and the other masters. Though they were all masters, they were not all equal.

Master then looked forward again, beyond the men in front of him and towards the crates before he turned his gaze back towards this Ser Galaenys. "Is your Prince not gracing us with his presence?" her master asked. She noted that her master sounded not impressed and was likely offended by this Sunset Prince's absence.

"Prince Aegon will arrive shortly once I signal to him that it is safe for him and his dragon to come." Galaenys said to her master.

For a moment, her master and the other masters looked offended until the word dragon had been understood and her master quickly recovered, his hand moving at his side, a forceful gesture that was meant for the other masters who stilled anything they might have said otherwise. "Prince Aegon is arriving on dragonback?"

"He is." The handsome man said to her master. "He wishes to make an impression on his property."

"Ah." Her master said in a smile but she could tell for what it was, even if she only saw half of his face from where she stood holding the silk awn over his head.

"He will not free them like he is said to do with the other slaves he buys?" Good master Grazdan zo Lihzuz asked in a cold smile.

The handsome man smiled and it was as equally as unsmiling as that of the master's. "That is what many are made to believe." the handsome man said as he glanced at the other foreign men, an amused mocking look brandished on his face as he turned back to face her master. "Yet before you, there stands only men from Westeros and none of us has toiled a day as a slave. As your friend said, there are places for those like us." Galaenys said before he eyed her and the other girls before he looked at her master once more.

"And there are places for those like them. The Prince understands this and they are his to do as a dragon wishes." Galaenys finished and this made her master and the other masters chuckle at the words of this foreign man.

"Good, good." One of the masters said with a smiling voice "You will find the Unsullied perfectly suited for the place they belong to."

"Hmm." Galaenys said as he looked towards one of the Unsullied. "We will see about that. I hear that you take what makes us all men away from the Unsullied."

"They are not men." Her master said in agreement. "They are obedient spears who have no thought in their heads but that of the wills of their master. And they are expensive" Her master then looked towards the crates with a dubious look before he looked back towards Galaenys. "It does not look like it is enough. Not for all."

Galaenys then met her master's dark eyes. "There are one and a half million gold dragons in those crates." The sum seemed to greatly please the masters.

Galaenys then gestured the crates to be brought in front of the masters. "More than enough to purchase all of your Unsullied. You can have your men check the crates now if you wished before we proceed."

"We will do so." Her master said as he shared a look with the other masters before he clicked his fingers and slave scribes and freedmen in service of the masters came speedily towards the crates.

They spent an hour checking the contents of the crates, checking and weighing hundreds of coins from each crate before they were satisfied that the contents of the crates were as Galaenys had said and spoke in hushed whispers to the masters.

"Good, good." One of the masters remarked, greatly satisfied with the judgement and discussion had with the other masters, and her master signalled one of the high born guards, likely, she thought, to gather the rest of the Unsullied.

"We can do business." Her master said finally before he then gestured with his hand bearing the gold capped whip for the foreigners to follow him and the masters into the Plaza of Punishment, past the front main gates.

The Unsullied now began to fill the Plaza of Punishment once they were halfway to the raised platforms at the opposite of the front main gates that led to the barracks before one made it into the city proper.

"You said the Unsullied had no thoughts?" Galaenys asked her master who she kept sure the awn would keep the sun's light and heat from touching her master whilst some of the others began to shield the foreigners from the sun.

"From the moment they can walk, they are forged not only in body but in mind too, tempered in blood and sacrifice until all there is, is Unsullied. Pure." Her master said with pride and satisfaction, satisfaction shared with the masters, and she caught a glimpse of the foreign men who she thought bore very hard eyes.

Why so, she wondered.

The masters continued to speak pridefully with Galaenys as they walked between the many columns of Unsullied that were being gathered in the Plaza, marched out as they were from their barracks and from the walls some time ago and now, speaking of the training the Unsullied had to become what they were.

Awful training that she hated hearing.

She cast her gaze towards the faces of the Unsullied, some she thought could be mayhaps no more than three and ten, no older than she, though it was hard to tell, and it was hard to tell still the ages of the other Unsullied, all of whom looked young but could be the old age of five and thirty for all she knew.

The girls and women of her master said it was because they had no cock and no stones, making them grow girlish and slight and young, something she'd once heard the girls and women gossip that some masters liked and sought, like how some masters, like her master's son, liked girls younger than she yet unflowered and un-heavy with breasts.

There must be more than ten thousand she thought, more than she'd ever seen gathered in one place, once they arrived and moved up the steps of the platform.

"Hundred and twenty ranks of a hundred stand before you." Her master said in a prideful tone as they arrived at the steps of the barracks, now looking towards the many hundred columns of Unsullied standing stiffly.

"And they obey without question?" Galaenys asked doubtfully as he glanced at the Unsullied before them.

"You doubt." Her master chuckled, and she recognised the kind that it was. It was the kind of chuckle he did when he thought you an idiot. "You!" her master bellowed as he held up the gold crusted whip high into the sky in one hand and gesturing with another at a Unsullied in the hundred-strong rank directly in front of them. The Unsullied walked forward stiffly and stood in front of their master once he'd climbed the steps.

Her master then looked towards Galaenys, towards his hip and said "Your dagger, give it to me." Galaenys frowned as he hesitated for a brief moment. The hesitation did not last and he removed the dagger from its scabbard, a dagger that looked strange to her. It was black and though shaped like a dagger, it had sharp edges along its length with peaks that glistened like starlight under a clear black sky.

Her master was curious too, though he did not ask when he took the offered dagger, a dagger that was offered with the sharp end pointed at her master, and the dagger hilt was rolled into her master's hand when he went for it.

Her master then pressed the edge of the black dagger on the Unsullied left breast and slowly cut downwards, the tip of the dagger sinking into the flesh of the Unsullied. "Does this matter to you?"

"It does not, your worship." The Unsullied said.

Her master then moved away from the chest and placed the tip at the dimple of the Unsullied's neck. "And if I wished to drive this into your neck? Would it matter then?"

"It would not, your worship." There was blood now dripping from the Unsullied's neck and the Unsullied never moved, never changed its stiff posture.

Her master moved the tip of the dagger downward, towards the Unsullied's right side of the chest and drove in the blade deep before he twisted in the Unsullied's chest, the sound of flesh tearing plain and easy to hear.

"And this?"

"It does not matter, your worship."

"Not even the pain?"

"I feel nothing, your worship."

"The Prince wants them whole. Enough." Galaenys voice was hard as he spoke and when he met her master's gaze, he said. "I am satisfied." His words accompanied with a hard stare at the Unsullied before he turned his gaze towards her master. "Is this all of the Unsullied? Even the almost trained?"

"No, they are not yet ready to be deemed Unsullied." Her master said.

"How many of those are there?"

"Some eight thousand." One of the masters said disdainfully. "But they are but unwieldly things. Impure. They are not yet ready. Three mayhaps four thousand of them will perish before the surviving are truly considered pure ."

"I understand. But know that my Prince will want them too."

"They are not for sale." Her master said with the shake of the head. "The Unsullied are our families' prideful work. A butcher does not sell the innards and shit it removes from a carcass amongst the meat to be sold in the butcher's shop."

"The one and a half million gold dragons, coins that weigh near twice that much that of your gold marks, is for all of the Unsullied. Or we will take the coin and hire sellswords five times the number of Unsullied in this plaza." Galaenys said with a heavy look. "Our campaign in Myr will require many bodies, on land and on sea, and Prince Aegon will want all of the Unsullied. He will want no less."

"They are impure." One of the masters complained to the other masters. "We cannot sell them."

"My Prince will want them all." Galaenys insisted hard.

Her master quieted down the other masters before her master and the other masters shared silent looks.

One of the masters spoke once more "We will need to discuss this."

Her master bid her to shield the foreigners who remained from the harsh, and, for the entire duration her master and the other masters were away, the foreigners were as silent as death itself, only hard and severe looks shared between them.

Her master returned with the masters some time later and they did not return alone for more of the Unsullied locked step behind them.

Galaenys did not change his expression as he spoke. "So you have come to agree?"

"Mostly." Her master said before another master spoke next. "We will give you all of the ones that are within a few years of being purified. The rest are too impure to be allowed to shame us when you use them against the Myrrish."

Galaenys seemed to think this over before he looked towards the young Unsullied who were moving in ranks of hundred towards the far side of the plaza.

"Unless you are willing to pay an extra crate of gold for them?" one of the masters posed and Galaenys looked to meet the Good Master's eyes.

"It will be Prince Aegon's decision." He looked at the Unsullied. "These may be enough to satisfy my Prince but he will speak for himself." Galaenys said before he looked towards the men by the crates and signalled them to come forth. The foreign placed the crates, crates that she thought could crush a man should it fall on top of them, in front of the masters who were pleased greatly by the sight of them.

Galaenys then looked towards the plaza and gestured at one of the other foreign men. "You should open a space for my Prince to arrive. The dragon is a large beast and does not like the smell of people." Galaenys said.

One of the foreigners unhooked something, something looked like a rod of a kind, long and thin, yet at the top there was a ball of a kind, a ball that looked to be made of some kind of black clay, mayhaps unpolished steel, but she could not be sure.

The foreign man in armour twisted at the bottom and raised the stick high into the air, a queer look that she did not understand. That none of the masters understood.

"Wait, he's com-" one of the master's words died in his throat when a bright green light blinded her for a moment, and she heard the sharp noises of spears and swords readied and when her vision returned, it returned with the foreign men surrounded by spears and swords.

"What have you done?!" her master demanded even though he raised his hand to still the sharp steel edges of the spears and blades. Galaenys, and the other foreign men, looked calm under the seeming danger they were in.

"We have merely called Prince Aegon to come." Galaenys said before he pointed towards the skies and she looked despite herself and the moment she looked, she was greeted with a great show of green light, light that momentarily turned the sky to bear twin suns, one reddish-brown and the other a violent green.

"What is that? How have you done that?" one of the masters wondered and demanded, and she turned to look, and she saw the gleam of greed in his eyes.

"That is a contraption made by Prince Aegon with some aid of Yi-Tish tradesmen." Galaenys said to the master in question. "You must have heard that the Prince is responsible for Braavosi glass, like the ones your slaves hold on that silver platter." Galaenys gestured towards the half full pitchers and wineglasses.

"My Prince makes many contraptions which may be available for the right price." Galaenys finished. Her master shared looks with the other masters.

"We may be interested" one of the masters said but she could tell that he had not hidden his curiosities and then, finally, one of the masters signalled the guards and the Unsullied to bring their swords and spears to heel.

"Do not surprise us like that again." One of the masters warned dangerously.

"Of course." Galaenys said with a smile. "There will be none more." Galaenys said as he looked towards the sky and she looked to, and she marvelled at the dying light of the green fire. She'd never seen green fire. Only red and orange, she thought.

"How lo-" one of the master's voices was cut short by a bone-rattling roar, a roar that made many jump in fear and shock yet the greater shock and the greater fear was yet to come when a shadow the size of mountains was cast over them, over the plaza, a shadow that was followed by the form of flesh and scales and the smell of ash and smoke, wind swept and wind wept as claws the length of spears and claws as thick as the most portly master flashed by her and the others and when the dragon roared again, her bones felt like they were shaken loose from her very body.

Voices rang around her, rife with fear, and no doubt faces strife with terror yet she made no noise and her legs did not move a single muscle, though her hands and her arms shook like a broken leaf hanging loose from the stem of a branch imperilled under the strongest gale, her eyes fixed on the sight before her, a sight that was dominated by a creature that was as large as the pyramids of Astapor itself, a creature that swept around with its monstrous wings, wings that seemed like they shield the very world from the light of the sun itself, wings that brought the creature low and towards the far side of the walls.

The high born guards that had been on the walls above them, above the platforms crept away from the sight of horror, the sight of a beast that no man could contend with, that no man – or Unsullied, she thought – would want to contend with.

And, for the first time, she saw what the colour of steel truly was, now, in the presence of this dragon, of this beast, of this monster, clad in armour, angled scales of armour that the dragon bore on its chest and on its neck and on both sides of its draconic head, armour that must be thicker than shields.

Its claws, its monstrous claws, wrapped around the width of the walls after it descended, stones crushing underneath its strength and power and weight, and she imagined with awe and fear that steel may well bear as little resistance as stone and rock.

Once more the dragon roared, yet, it was not with the vigour and fury as the roars before but she recognised it still for what it was, a call, a demand, from a master to its slaves, she thought, as she gazed at the massive slitted green eyes that she believed was bigger than the head of an elephant.

By now, the vicinity of that side of the wall was vacated by the Unsullied, and, she thought, as she looked towards them, eyes full of shock, eyes full of emotion that she thought they did not have, could not have, and she realised that they too must have felt the demand of the dragon onto their very spirits, as broken as they were.

The dragon moved one of its legs down from atop the high walls, walls that there were ten feet tall yet to this dragon it was no more than a man sized step. It placed down one of its wings onto the ground followed by the other and soon the dragon, its long serpentine neck slithering as it ambled closer and away from the wall towards them, its green eyes sweeping across the plaza.

"Wh-what is he doing?!" one of the masters found their voice, and soon the others found theirs too.

"You have no cause to be fearful, Good Masters. He is merely making an impression." Galaenys said to the masters, and she found the courage to look at the foreign man and she saw the same hard eyes she'd seen in the other foreign men for the first time.

For a moment, those hard eyes had snapped towards her, eyes that then lost their hardness and she thought there was a faint smile on his face, on this Galaenys, this sunset foreigner but it was gone quick, leaving her to doubt herself.

The dragon growled lowly, grasping their attentions once more, and it went low, one of its wings stretching out, and moments later, she saw a man clad in dark coloured armour walk down the beast's wing and the Sunset Prince, for whom else could this be, walked towards them.

And, as the Sunset Prince closed the distance between them, the dragon followed him closely, though slowly, its fleshy wings gnawing at the red sands and its hind claws clawing at the sun beat sand and only after a few moments did it stop yet not once did it take off its green eyes from the back of its master, the Sunset Prince.

When the masters made of noises of discontent and shared looks of anger, the dragon seemed displeased with it for it began to growl and growl it did with a menacing thrum that was made more obscene when a deathly dark blue light dwelled at the back between the rows of sword like teeth that shown itself when the scale like lips of its maw drew back.

It quieted down her masters and the high born guards slinked away further still.

The hundred or so paces the Sunset Prince walked felt like an age, the sounds of clinking armour and the sounds of the low rumble of the dragon melted away the heat of the shimmering sand, and, instead, invoked in her trickles of shivering cold water down her spine as the Sunset Prince approached, and approach he did.

There were whispers shared amongst themselves, about the Dragonlords of Old Valyria, the masters of whom they all spoke the language of, tales that was shared in secret. Tales that spoke of their masters once having masters of their own, masters that called all of the sky and the earth and the rivers their own as easily as the masters called Astapor theirs.

And, as she looked upon this Sunset Prince with skin as pale as the colour of fresh milk, and with short hair the colour of the finest silver, two amethyst jewels crowning a bearded face as though they were the fabled gems stolen from the lost crown of Grazdan's Queen Lerizda, mother of all Ghis, she could understand why the Good Masters punished such words spoken with flaying and dismemberment.

There was something different about these Dragonlords, she decided with wonder, and the Good Masters, who tried and tried to be like them but could never be, she realised, remembered their own lacking and punished others for their lesser-ness.

"My Prince." Galaenys said with a deep bow, a bow that the rest of the foreigners followed in doing when the Sunset Prince went up the steps onto the platform.

"Ser Galaenys. Your verdict?" the Sunset Prince only said with piercing look at the man, his voice raw yet firm and she thought she could hear a distant rumbling when he spoke, the same kind of distant rumbling that the dragon still did, a rumbling she could almost swear she could feel from the sand through her sandals.

"They are adequate. These are not all of the Unsullied however." Galaenys said to the Prince, and her master, after a sharp word to the high born guards who remained stilled in place to follow him, walked a few paces in front of the rest of them, standing opposite the Sunset Prince.

"Prince Aegon." Her master said with a forceful smile and the Prince looked towards him, standing a head taller than her master. "It is a pleasure to meet one of the last surviving members of the Forty." Her master introduced himself and the others before he spoke of the matter at hand.

"These fifteen thousand, twelve thousand pure Unsullied and another three with some impurities, are here before you. Your gold will buy you this much." Her master said. The Sunset Prince acknowledged her master before he turned to look at the Unsullied.

"There has been a misunderstanding. When your messenger said I could have all of the Unsullied for one and a half million gold coins, I understood it to mean all of the Unsullied. Including the ones that are very…impure." The Sunset Prince then turned to look at her master and then onto the others.

"Why would you want half-children that have not yet blooded their blades with an infant?" One of the masters said indignantly "They will not be useful as these fully trained Unsullied will. It would be foolish to want them."

"Are you calling my Prince a fool?" Galaenys growled and before anyone else could speak, the Sunset Prince placed an arm on the foreigner.

"Peace, Ser Galaenys. They meant no offence." The Sunset Prince said as he looked towards the Good Masters. "I am sure they are merely worried that I will not come again to buy more of their Unsullied should I be disappointed."

"That is correct, my good Prince." One of the masters said. "Your campaign in Myr will need the finest of weapons and these Unsullied are finest of all."

"We will train more and come in a years time, there shall be thousands more for you to gain…at a price, of course." Her master said and the Sunset Prince nodded silently before he looked towards the Unsullied.

There was a long silence that seemed to crush all other noise, eyes flittering towards the still teeth baring dragon who watched them with unnatural intensity.

"Throw in the Unsullied that stand there" the Sunset Prince said as he gestured towards the Unsullied that stood beside the masters. "Do that and I will accept."

"Of course." One of the masters said hastily, as eager as any for the thick tension to go away. "I have given you to the Sunset Prince. He is his master now. Go! Go join the Unsullied waiting there!" the master said in a growl as he threw the whip on the ground and the fifty Unsullied that had stood guarding the masters left to join their kind at the Plaza.

The Sunset Prince looked towards the Unsullied for a long moment before he spoke. "Very well. It is agreed." The Sunset Prince said and she felt as if everyone had collectively taken a breath of relief. The Sunset Prince gestured the foreign men forward with the crates and her master gleefully ordered the high born guards to take the crate back into the city.

"It is agreed." Her master said as the other masters turned to look hungrily at the crates that were being taken away and he moved to hand the gold crusted whip to the Sunset Prince.

The Sunset Prince took it, his eyes latched onto the faint golden figure of the harpy, before he met her master's gaze. "They belong to me now?"

"As surely as that dragon belongs to you, my good Prince." Her master agreed, his eyes flickering to the armoured dragon with wariness and a hint of fear showed before he masked it with a winning smile, and the Sunset Prince only nodded before he went down the steps of the platform, towards the Unsullied, and the other foreign men began to pool around at the edges of the platform, particularly those with the shields at their back, their bodies half turned to the plaza below, and some of them began to climbed down the steps though not all the way.

"UNSULLIED!" the Sunset Prince bellowed, his voice carrying throughout the plaza as he raised the whip. "YOU HAVE BEEN SOLD TO ME. DO YOU RECOGNISE THAT?"

The Unsullied smacked the bottom of their spears on the sands in acknowledgement. The Sunset Prince then moved in between the columns, ranks, of Unsullied, his head swivelling from one side to the other.

"THE GOOD MASTERS NO LONGER COMMAND YOU. DO YOU UNDERSTAND THAT?"

Once more, all the Unsullied smacked the bottom of their spears on the sands in acknowledgement.

"What is he doing?" one of the good masters demanded to know, his face contorting in confusion and a bout of anger.

"He is making sure they understand…Good Master." Galaenys as he stared at the master.

"I HAVE BUT ONE COMMAND FOR YOU." The Sunset Prince said as he clenched the whip tightly.

"BE FREE, UNSULLIED!"

She did not have time to think for the foreign men moved quickly, far too quickly, the shields on their backs removed and whipped to their front, the sharp tangs of swords unsheathed singing across the platform, their sword tips pointed towards them…no…towards her master and the other masters.

"What is the meaning of this?!" her master bellowed as he took a step back, and she too took a step back, towards the sides at the same time another master called out, screamed out "GUARDS, DEFEND US! UNSULLIED DEFEND US!"

The guards moved but the Unsullied remained still and she saw the faces of the masters pale into a deathly colour as they looked past the foreign soldiers with their strange shields and she caught where they were looking, and she saw the Sunset Prince in the midst of the ranks, of the columns, of the Unsullied, his sword drawn, pointed at the platforms…pointed, she thought, at the masters.

The dragon moved, the ground rumbling as the beast moved, and all heads swivelled towards the dragon as the dragon's serpentine neck turned towards the men who stood at the walls above the platforms. Yet, their heads swivelled once more when the raw and firm voice of the Sunset Prince was heard.

"BE FREE, UNSULLIED, FOR ALL TIME AND SLAY THE GOOD MASTERS, SLAY THEIR SOLDIERS, SLAY ANY MAN OR WOMAN WHO WEARS A TOKAR OR HOLDS A WHIP AND FREE ALL THOSE BOUND IN CHAINS."

"ARROWS! ARROWS!" one of the Good Masters screamed as he stumbled over his feet "KILL THEM ALLL!"

…

…

…

Chaos.

Blood splattered over her face and on her dress as sword cut flesh and bone and metal sang with dull thunders and sharp clangs.

…

…

…

Chaos delighted as blue flames turned a second sun, molten stone sizzled and flesh and bone were made ash and ash filled the air.

…

…

…

Chaos prospered when spears ran through the bodies of men that wedded the destinies of the Unsullied to the very spears that claimed their lives.

…

…

And Chaos promised to sing until the light of the next morn when columns, ranks, of Unsullied marched through molten gates into Astapor proper.

…

"You hurt, girl?"

The voice of another, a voice that was not terrified, or begged or cried, cleared her vision, and clarity of mind grew.

She drew her eyes away from the backs of the marching Unsullied and towards the voice and her eyes widened at the sight of a blooded man with his armoured tinged with red marks and deep grooves that chipped away the blue paint on the armour.

She flinched when the man leaned forward with a blooded gauntlet and he paused in his motion "I ain't going to hurt you girl." She recognised the strangely gentle voice…Galaenys…it was that foreigner.

She took the hand and she was brought her feet in one fell swoop and she winced slightly. "You are hurt then." The man said as he looked her over and she blinked before she touched her body for any wounds.

She shook her head "This one has hurt her ankle in the fall, oh blessed one."

"Ah don't call me that crap." The man complained with a sour note and a sour face. "There is nothing blessed about me never mind the shitstains that force you to call other shitstains that seven damned crap." She was taken aback by the way he was speaking. It was very different to…before.

The man paused as he eyed her keenly.

"What is your name girl? I can't keep calling you girl."

"This one's name is Zimine, oh ble-" she stopped when he raised his hand.

"Call me Ser Galaenys or Galaenys or any other version of my name. Just stop with the slaver honorifics, would ya?" Galaenys said sourly with a shake of the head before he turned away from her and looked towards the distance.

"You see that Ziminay?" Galaenys said and she looked to where he was looking and she saw that it was towards the gates. She saw, as she strained with her eyes, a few dozen folk nearing the front gates…folk she realised, were some of the other girls. And, as she looked towards the steps, she saw two of the girls and a few of the slave scribes making their way to the front of the gates too, walking alongside a few of the foreigners who seemed to be carrying one of theirs, who looked to be dead, with them.

She turned and looked around and her eyes widened at the sight of the head of her master and the butchered bodies of all of the other masters and high born guards and memories flashed in her mind, flashes of swords clashing with other, with swords burying themselves in the stomachs of her ma- of her former master.

Former master…

She also saw some of the bodies of the others, amongst them a girl named Odni, who seemed to have died next to one of the masters. A few of the foreigners were here too, though they seemed to be making sure everyone else is dead.

"Go join them and the few of my men. They'll take you to safety." Galaenys said and she looked back at him in a slow blin-

She jumped in fright at the sounds of harsh strange sound that sounded like how the dragon had sounded, her legs almost crumbling from beneath her when the pain of her hurt ankle travelled up, only saved from falling by the strong hands of the man before her.

"Steady there…go, girl. Ziminay. It'll be over soon enough." He said to her as he guided her to the steps and when she looked to her right, she saw great pillars of smoke rising beyond the walls…where the harbour was.

"What will be over?" she asked dumbfounded as she looked at this blood-faced man.

A smile was on his face, an unsmiling smile, and for the first time, she really begun to understand what was happening, even before he spoke to her. "There'll be no more slavers in this city when we're done with it. Everyone will be free."

Freedom…

She felt a strange stir in her heart, a stir that stirred stronger than ever, akin to a storm brewing in a pot, and her eyes widened at the realisation…at the acceptance.

'So that is what this feeling means…'

Freedom.

-Break-

Mid to Late 112 AC – Astapor

Trytas POV

The seas were awash with floating green fire and burnt and burning husks of ships, some still aflame with fires the hues of blues and greens, their oars catching driftwood every tenth stroke as they threaded the narrow passageways towards the shores, the sounds of crackling fire wrestling with the sounds of oars pushing water, with the sounds of distant fighting and distant screams.

Trytas clenched tighter on the hilt of his sword, more out of relief than the tension that he felt. He, and many others, had intensely hated the Prince's plan to secure the Unsullied. It was risky. Far too risky.

Their Prince's life could not be so casually risked. Yet the Prince was steadfast despite their protestations and they had to obey their Prince, and the fact the Prince was so certain, so sure, in the deception's success, did little to un-wrangle the doubt, the first time he'd ever doubted Prince Aegon, from his mind.

The risk and the price was too high. Far too high. And what was the point of this retribution if their Prince perished? The Unsullied were not men. They were not even regular slaves with wants and needs. They don't even have cocks!

He shook his head, calming himself.

The Prince on his dragon setting the scum's ships aflame had brought a seven damned tear to his eyes! 'You magnificent bastard, I'll never doubt you again, my Prince' he vowed to himself. He shook his head, the tension in his hand loosening as he turned his head, looking over his shoulder from the place he sat, the seat in between the rowers, looking towards the seemingly endless number of rowboats behind them.

He looked away, back towards the front, the anticipation within him growing and the duty he, and the fellows of the boat and the boats in front of him, were called to carry out now lodging firmly in his mind.

'The Prince had done his part…now it was time for ours'

The water splashed as he jumped over the edge of the rowboat, the water warm and the sand feeling fine through his boots as he trudged towards the shore.

He looked towards the gate, a gate that was blown asunder by dragon fire, and saw only smoke and dust behind it.

"EVERYONE!" a voice bellowed, the voice of Randal. "FOLLOW ME TO THE FIRST PYRAMID!" he said once the last of their boats arrived.

"DO AS HE SAYS. DO NOT STRAY! FOCUS ON THE MISSION!" Trytas shouted as he began to run and caught up with Randal.

Soon enough, their company of four hundred made passed the ruined gates, their swords drawn as they slowed their pace but not so much that they endangered the speediness in which they had to operate. It would soon be night, likely less than three hours, and they had to be quick and be done with it.

They followed Randal, the man who memorised the maps and the streets and the locations of the pyramids like the back of his hand, through the haze of red dust and smoke. The chaos of the city was distracting, slaves and Unsullied and Ghiscari were having it out, a few times did they intercede on their way to the pyramids and a few times they had to call the Unsullied off from attacking them, though, for the most part, it was quieter than he expected, at least here.

He could hear the fighting was more intense deeper into the city.

They arrived at the first pyramid, a pyramid's whose outsides were tinged black with dragon fire and from the looks of it, Prince Aegon had long ago attacked this pyramid.

"Randall. Guide Christor and his command to the next pyramid. We shouldn't face too much of a problem here." Trytas commanded and soon enough, he entered the gaping of the pyramid of Nakloz, his sword drawn and his shield up.

He could hear men further up, he thought as he looked towards the blinding light at the end of the tunnel. The Pyramids were like miniature cities of a kind, with high walls protecting the interior which had buildings several floors up with massive rooms on each floor. Most had even had gardens, though few, Uthrik had said, had anything impressive as the supposed pristine gardens of the pyramid of Urriqiz.

They arrived at the other end of the tunnel and as he thought, they were greeted with a force of…just shy of a hundred men. The unsullied were less so, only twenty of them whilst the rest seemed to be common slave guards and the remaining seemingly brave Ghiscari noblemen.

Good for them, he thought to himself.

Beyond them, as he looked, he saw a few women and older men looking and shouting at them and he looked away and back at the men.

"Remember men." He said as his men broke off into their formations of four, enough to cover each others backs. "No quarter…no mercy."

…

Frightened dark eyes stared back at him as the pisshead gurgled on his blood, the stench of his shit and piss forcing its way into his nostrils and Trytas scowled as he ripped out his blade and with one fell swoop, he cut off the man's head before he turned to look at the battlefield and saw that there were few defenders remaining.

His eyes glanced over to the men that had fallen, his men, of whom he noted were three, including young Jarrod. "Bertie!" he shouted and the young man in question turned to look at him and Trytas gestured to their dead.

"Yes ser!" Bertie said with a nod. It wouldn't do for their men to be amongst the filth. They'd separate them out and give them proper burials before they took their ashes back to the ships, to be interned in the Hall of Heroes.

"Let's go." Trytas commanded the rest of his men after he'd ordered a few of his men to remain to guard their exits.

They made it through the pyramid, killing everything they saw swiftly and with deaf ears. Men, young and old alike. Women, young and old alike. After he drew out his wetted blade out of a old biddy, he heard a commotion in the room next, and he quickly made his way there.

He saw one of his men, one of the younger ones, full of anger, and full of passion, struggling to do the deed as the women and her child, a boy child that looked to be the age of seven, mayhaps six, clutched into her arms as she stood against the wall amidst the corpses of likely her family.

Her wild, desperate eyes turned towards him, her hysterics, which gnawed at his ears, carried through into her voice as she spoke, in Ghiscari Valyrian, to him.

"P-p-please! Mercy! I beg you, m-mercyy!" she wailed as she held on firmly onto her son "Sp-p-pare us, p-p-please..!"

The young man, Ser Brunn, turned to look at him, unsure and uncertain. Trytas sighed before he steeled himself and walked towards the woman, the tip of the blade rising and her hysterics only grew "N-no w-wwait! S-spare hi-"

Her words died in her words after he's pierced through her son and into her chest, the boy having been killed instantly as he'd driven through the spine, though, for the mother, death came slower. He saw her look towards the dead eyes of her son, the light slowly dimming, and Trytas did not know if it was because of how close she was to death or because of the death of her son, but he did not spend time thinking any more on it as he withdrew his sword from out of them, his body swivelling to meet the stricken gaze of the young man.

Trytas struck Brunn on the cheek with an open palm, stirring him out of his shock.

"Boy, remember your training. Do not let me find you hesitating again" he growled angrily at the young man. Fool, did he want to be caught out and die like a pig?

"I-I…" he began as his gaze flickered to the dead mother and son.

"Stop." Trytas growled out and the boy's eyes sharply returned to his and Trytas sighed before he shook his head, his eyes glancing at the dead family for a moment before he looked at Brunn again.

"These people…they cannot be allowed to live. They always fall back into what they remember…what they know…what their ancestors had accomplished. Not a decade after the Doom, these people decided to reclaim the Harpy and their Ghiscari origins as their own." Trytas placed a hand on the young man's shoulder, his eyes boring into the agonised eyes of the younger knight.

'Pah, the boy's stomach was not lined with thick enough iron.'

"And look what they have done with their freedom from Valyria. Look what they have done to the peoples of this land and beyond." Trytas said grimly. These people were a disease. They could not be allowed the chance to reclaim anything.

Never again.

His people will have their retribution and the slaves will have their freedom.

That was that.

"Young and old, they must go, Brunn, as terrible as it is." Trytas said as he tapped the shoulder of the young knight. "Only then, when the weed has been cleared, can the olive tree grow." He said, remembering the saying one of the pretty lasses say during a fun night at the tavern in Corinth.

"Do you understand?" Trytas said as he took his hand off of the knight's shoulder and Brunn, after a few conflicting emotions played out on his face, fortified himself and nodded firmly. "Good. Now fuck off and make yourself useful." He grumbled and so did the young man leave to join the rest of his fellows.

He watched Brunn go before he turned his gaze towards the dead people and then to the dead boy and the mother, a heavy look now on his face. 'May you find peace in the afterlife…whatever that may be.' He thought with a hard face before he shook himself and went off, to do the same he ordered Brunn to do.

It was some time later that they were sure that they'd cleared out the pyramid of all life, save for the freed slaves, most of whom were women and girls – whom they had sworn to secrecy, something that they were more than happy to do once they understood what was happening – and the few noble children aged three namedays or less. These ones would be marked with the same brands as the children born in slavery and put into orphanages to be raised by the people of this city.

Their lives would be spared and the taint of their heritage would be forgotten into the annals of history. As it deserved to be.

"Brunn." He said as they arrived at the outside courtyard and the man in question looked at him "Go with the injured men and make sure those children make it back, will ya?" he said gruffly and he looked away from the surprised man's eyes as he raised his sword "Everyone else, on me! We still have six more pyramids to clean out!" he bellowed and soon enough, they made way to the next pyramid, to the next pulling of weeds.

-Break-

Mid to Late 112 AC - Astapor

Okahr POV

He gazed down below upon the city from atop one of the pyramids, on one of the many terraces, the largest pyramid on the shore that before this day belonged to the Ullhor family but would now serve as the main stronghold for the Prince's forces and people, a city that still had portions dimly aglow, made brighter under the darkness of the clear moonless night.

It almost…it almost looked peaceful, he thought, as he simply…watched.

He knew he could not sleep.

Not tonight, and mayhaps he would not sleep the next day either. Whether it'll be because of the daunting task that he was given…convinced into, or because of all the blood that was spilled on this city…in this city, he did not know.

…

"There you are…!" he heard from behind him, and he jumped a little in shock before he blinked when he recognised to whom the voice belonged to and he turned to face her.

Zhoznizzi was walking towards him with a torch in hand and he could see the heavy frown adorned on her face. "I've been looking for you for ages."

He blinked at that. 'Had it been really so long since I left to take a moment to myself?' "I lost account of time." He said in a commiserating tone and for once, she did not have a witty quip at hand, surprising him.

She only smiled at him before she looked away, towards the horizon, towards the city proper and she remained silent as she came to a stop beside him.

"You know…" she began and he turned to look at her and he saw her wear a strange expression on her face, a face that he thought was an odd mix of contemplation and frowning. "I never thought I'd be back in a city like this again."

"Neither did I." Okahr admitted with a wry note to his voice and she blinked before she turned to him and moments later, both of them smiled, struggling to contain their sudden laughs.

He wasn't even sure why they were laughing, only that the whole situation was…absurd? Yes, that High Valyrian word was the right word to describe their present circumstances. To think how much things have changed in only five years…from a slave fearing the mood swings of his master to a free man who is soon to be in a position of power once only beheld by the Good Masters alone…!

Yes…it was absurd.

And when they learnt why they had not left for Elamaerys, the true reason why they were being taught administration, laws, civil institutions, and so much more…

To say that they, all hundreds of them, were shocked was putting it severely lightly.

They all thought that they were destined for Myr, a distant and unknown city, tasked to administrate the chaos after the sack and likely reformation into a real Free City…not this, he thought as he looked away from her and back to the city.

There had been safety in that thought and Myr…Myr was far alike from the cities they all came from, even if there was the terribleness of slavery there. If things went wrong…it was not the end of the world.

Not like here.

Most…

Most of them had been sceptical…and fearful, to tell the truth. He, too, had been fearful. How could he not? He still remembered the whips and the threat of being racked or hanged, or worse…being flayed alive only to die when the rot killed you.

He remembered the constant new faces in his master's manor.

He remembered the constant flow of people in and out of the city, tens of thousands, he thought, he must have seen…never ever seeing them again.

He remembered the dozens of slaves that were displayed within the Plaza of Punishment – days he hated most when he'd been made to go there with his master or his master's family – their weak wails and their begs for mercy and death, their haunted and tortured eyes pleading with him…and he remembered always, always, the almost every other night smell of burning human flesh beyond the walls of the slave quarters, for his master's manor was not far from the burning site.

And returning to a city, a place, that still ruled his, all of their nightmares…?

Many were not happy…at all.

He was not happy at all.

It was only when those like Zhoznizzi, Kraqez, Shedir, Zernik and Hasneik had spoken with reason and passion that many of their fears were…lessened.

He turned to look at her and saw he looking towards the horizon, her expression having softened away from the smile but there was still a small part of her smile still there, mixed with a look he knew all too well, a glint in her eyes that he'd seen all too often when she was confronted with problems…or chess…the look of unwavering determination to win.

Zho was different.

Kraqez, Shedir, Zernik and Hasneik were different too…in their own way.

A few more others too.

For them, fear was not something to allow to overwhelm them.

'Did we not live with fear all of our lives?

Fear under the thin mercy and at the leisure of our tormentors?

And do we not now stand here, with the chance to help our long lost siblings, our lost long children or fathers or mothers, and so many others, finally being able to help them to live free from this fear that made us weak, that we all hated?

What is this new fear of ours then, that makes us more fearful than we have ever been when chains had been around our necks?'

There were many such arguments and counter-words on those days, more and more convinced every day by the bravery of those like Zho…including himself.

They cared not that the reason why they were here was because of retribution. The result remained the same. They had the chance to help.

Had they not wished someone would help them?

Had they not wanted a saviour, a parent, a brother, an uncle, someone, to help them when their backs were made wet with blood? Or when they were forced upon?

He was shamed to admit that he considered petitioning Prince Aegon with the others to remain behind when they left for the war.

Corinth made him become a person, something he'd never felt before.

He'd spent so many years hiding and pretending to be a loyal hardworking slave and when he finally had the opportunity to be more, to be himself in whatever way he chose, the thought of losing all of that was…unbearable.

More than he even feared death.

Yet, he thought as he looked at Zho, such fears did not overwhelm them. Her.

"You're amazing…"

She turned to look at him, her eyes slowly blinking before she tilted her head with some amount of amused confusion. "I know I'm amazing…but why am I amazing this time?" she asked with humour in her voice, the corners of her lips twisting.

Ah…curse the Harpy…I said it out loud. "You're always amazing." He said with a laugh and a warm smile adorned on his face. She was. She truly, truly was.

For a moment, a happy expression flickered on her face, an expression that soon made way with a snort, a forced snort, he thought, before she spoke, her eyes averting away from him, looking towards the city. "I'm still not marrying you."

He thought he could see a smile dancing at the corners of her lips. He smiled as he spoke, choosing to look at the city too, though, he stepped a little closer to her, the outside of his hand moving to lightly touch hers. "I didn't ask." He said with a smile on his voice.

"Good." She said but there was little conviction in her voice. He could tell that she was affected a little but he did not comment on it nor did he tease her. Instead, he enjoyed the feeling of the back of her hand on his own.

"You never really truthfully explained how much of a shit city Astapor is." Zho suddenly broke the silence after a very long while of silence, startling him with the suddenness…and oddness of her words.

"Is it that bad?" he asked, genuinely curious. He'd only really had Corinth for comparison and Corinth was definitely not a city. At least he didn't think so. Astapor was at mayhaps five or six times as large as Corinth had been, at the end.

Possible larger too.

"Tolos is much better looking city." She said with a flat tone to her voice as she looked towards him. "Smaller, yes, but much better looking." She said with a grimace as she turned to look at the city. "I can't believe these people let this city fall apart and I could see that much even when the sun had largely gone by the time we got here."

"It's a lot worse on the side of the city. And near the walls too." He said to her as he looked back at the city. "When there is strong winds, there scarcely anything to be seen more than a few metres in front of you. The red bricks of the city are old and crumbling and on those days, almost of the freedmen or the mast- Ghiscari nobles" he corrected himself before he continued. "walk until its cleared. It is said that they build the terraces on the pyramids so to allow trees and gardens to flourish where on the ground they would be smothered by the red dust."

She sighed long sufferingly "You're lucky I've already chosen to be part of the administration of this city." She said in a baleful glance and he smiled at the act.

"It's not so bad." He said quietly.

"There are some parts of this city that are worth it. And now that it'll belong to the people and ancestors whose blood colours its bricks, we can turn into a ruby of a city." He said with a smile in his voice and she looked towards him surprised.

His smile grew "Although it is left to be seen if you'll be much help in that dream of mine."

She scoffed "Please." She said balefully. "We both know that I will help get these city walls built up in no time." She said proudly and he chuckled quietly. 'Yes…I think you'll get the job done.' he thought to himself.

Out of the five hundred of their fellows, only hundred and fifty would remain in Astapor and its surroundings. The city proper would have only fifty or mayhaps half of their numbers whilst the rest would be sent to the countryside and the mining towns to take control of them so as to ensure food security and resources.

He looked towards the Plaza of Punishment.

The plan had been to enlist the help of the Unsullied in guarding the administrators and the workers, something that he know was assured would be achieved now that the Unsullied have joined the rebellion.

Those administrators would have a tall order on their hands…regarding the matters of redistributed lands and making sure the lands are productive. Thankfully, they had the example of Corinth and the texts on Westeros written by the Scholars along with a few non-fighting farmers who have volunteered to aid where they can.

He himself however, along with Zho, were had tasks within the city. They'd be part of the regency council, and would be aiding in the governance of the city, something that would happen alongside a few of the recently freed Astaporeans, though he was not sure who or how that would be accomplished.

His primary task however, was something else. That was the reorganisation of housing within the city. With the…taking of the pyramids and the manors, along with likely other homes made available thanks to the many other deaths of slave-owning Ghiscari nobility and freedmen, he had the pleasure of ensuring that the slaves had were granted suitable homes.

Most of the pyramids were to be untouched however. Six pyramids, including the Ozdak pyramid, were to be transformed into 'civil institutions'.

A judicial pyramid, a policing pyramid to house the city-guard, the tax collectors, the Republican Assembly – which was to be housed in the Ozdak pyramid – an orphanage, and a school of learning, open to any of all ages.

The other pyramids were to be used at the discretion of the regency council and later, the Republic. Though, he mused to himself, it'll be some time before that is to be made into reality. The regency council would be preoccupied by their primary objective.

To rebuilt the city, rebuild the city walls, and have the city be functional again.

As soon as possible.

The walls were particularly of importance to everyone once Prince Aegon reminded them of the perilousness of their situation even if it all went perfectly, as it largely this day.

They were surrounded on all sides. To the north, Yunkai and Meereen. To the south, the ever-watching eyes New Ghis who dreamed of a new empire. To the east, Volantis, who depended greatly and utterly on the slave trade and whom would be absolutely wroth – and fearful – of what was happening here.

And to the east, they had Qarth, who are likely to fear the disruption to the slave trade too as there would be fewer ships coming to their ports as Yi-Ti and beyond, did trade in some amount, with the flesh. And, of course, there'd be less Slaver's Bay ships travelling with ill-gotten coin from the sale of people.

And, of course, one could not forget the Dothraki khalasars, whom their enemies, who were plenty, could entice into attacking them and these walls…these crumbling walls would not stop them, not if they were determined, especially not if they were being aided.

The Good Masters did not have any of these natural enemies, even the Dothraki. The other Slaver Bay cities, presently, were rivals but brothers in truth, whilst the other cities and parties were customers. The Dothraki were both suppliers and customers, and so, the Good Masters had no reason to spend coin to rebuild the walls.

Nor was there any population need too, for the vast majority were slaves.

Now, however, all of that would change…and the walls…needed to change too.

"I'm glad you're staying." He said truthfully. She had the choice to be involved in Tolos, likely even taking a central position but she chose Astapor instead.

"The walls will need a lot of work." And they'd need to start recruiting men for the job soon. He was thankful that Prince Aegon was only taking half of the coin taken from the Good Masters and the other nobility of the city.

Zernik's proposal, a proposal to hire Summer Islanders to address any kind of labour shortage was brilliant and the positive responses from Sodhabbas Qhaxos and the Summer Islanders that were fighting for Prince Aegon was a relief.

Already, it was expected that a few ships were to be sent to the Summer Islands, particularly Walano and Omboru, to spread the message of the need of men to help defend their newly freed cities. He darkly thought that it helped that there many Summer Islanders in Astapor and in the hinterlands, and that information will be shared with the Summer Islanders in the hopes that their sympathies would deepen.

"We'll succeed." Zho's voice drew him out from his thoughts and he looked at her and he saw the same unwavering determination to win spread on her face, an expression that made way for a sly but dark smile

"We've got no choice but to now." She said.

-Break-

Mid to Late 112 AC – Astapor, Four days after the Fall of the Ghiscari Nobility

Uthrik POV

"Will this be moved into place on time?" Uthrik asked the knight, his eyes stuck to the heaving men who pulled at the ropes and rolled the huge bronze statue on large trunks of wood, most of which had been pulled out from the piers and harbour.

Given that there was about a thousand yards to go, he was doubtful they'd move this large thing into position on time. But, he thought, as he stared at the heaving men, a four hundred strong that included both Elamaerysians, Unsullied and Astaporeans, there was a chance at least. Especially since the wings have already been removed from the statute, shedding much needed weight.

"Yes, Ser Uthrik. The path ahead is smooth and by the time of eve, we will have this into the fighting pit like the rest of the statues in time for announcement."

Uthrik nodded as he looked back towards the upturned statue, his eyes latching onto the ivory eyes of this creature…the harpy.

If Dragons were the symbols of Old Valyria…then…the Harpy was the symbol of Old Ghis, a symbol of pride, and it was no coincidence that this harpy was located at the centre of the Plaza of Pride, the place that proudly showed off peoples as wares…as goods.

'Symbols matter.' He remembered Prince Aegon once tell him. 'People are a spiritual folk, even those who say they are godless and the Harpy represent the spirit of Old Ghis. And this where we start to destroy this social system.'

Uthrik nodded to himself before he glanced at the morning sun and noted it would soon be time for the war council and he begun to make his journey to the pyramid.

He walked on the dusty but familiar main street, the haze of red in the streets which spawned from the dusts and burned red bricks coloured the morning light, giving the street, and most other streets, a solemn air, a solemn red air, to match the solemnity of the bloodletting that mostly took place three days ago.

He looked around, his gaze falling on the slaves, former slaves that pooled together at a shopfront, their necks of a lighter hue than that of their skins, a mark, a remembrance, of how long they'd been slaves.

They looked tired. And lost, he thought to himself. For most, they had only known a life of slavery. A life of toiling and senseless cruelty. And now…the start of their freedom began. A freedom that must be fought for if they wished to keep it for they were surrounded by those who hated and feared what they were to stand for.

Even once they were done with the rest of these cities, these people would always have to fight to protect their freedoms…even from those amongst themselves.

A shadow fell on his face, a shadow that had been birthed from the depths of his spirit from all the years he'd spent in these…places.

It had eaten at his spirit, at his soul, to smile as he watched the fighting pits when atrocities were committed to the innocent, to the faultless, his face smiling and laughing with the worst of men had to offer, when, inside, he chained himself in a prison, raging and resisting the urge to kill as he kept up the charades, even when children were gorged upon, when mothers had to choose between their children…

And, he thought terribly to himself, such things were not the worst of things he'd seen when he dwelled amongst these so called nobles…these people.

He was changed man, he knew, he thought as he looked away from the former slaves and cast his hard eyes forward. Before, when he'd been sent to the Free Cities, though he'd seen there the ugliness and cruelty of slavery and its corruptive qualities, there was still much to admire and appreciate.

He found none of that in Slaver's Bay.

He'd seen the most vile and the most dark within the hearts of men in these accursed lands, darkness and vileness that these people did not hide from, not even slightly. And, he thought to himself, he was sure his changes would even make Selyse speechless, to know how much he'd changed in just a short few years.

One did not return from darkness unchanged and Uthrik understood that, now.

As he made his way up to the pyramid yonder, one of the few that lay in the heart of the city, the pyramid that once belonged to the Ozdak family, a family as dead as every other prominent family in this city in the mad chaos of the city's fall, he walked past a train of crates being carried away to the ships, crates, filled, he knew, with books and tomes and other such things.

Lorgan Keller, a disciple of Edwyn Hestatis, was in charge of this whole thing. The Prince had long expressed his desires to make sure that knowledge be secured for their people, regardless of the foul hands they once belonged to.

He walked up the steps to the gates of the Ozdak pyramid, a place guarded by many of the Unsullied, the top of the pyramid, where large garden terrace once graced but now was taken by Mīsaragorn and where, even now, he thought as he looked towards the form of the dragon, the dragon roosted, where all in the city could see him, as ably as the Harpy once had been seen throughout the city.

He'd seen the Unsullied throughout the city, keeping order and aiding with the clearing of bodies from the streets…and homes. In the chaos, there was a great deal of bloodletting…not just from the nobility.

Mercifully, the huge disparity, six formerly chained people to every free man, and the threat of Unsullied and their men, had at least aided in limited the number of freed slaves that had died.

And the Unsullied had helped limit any further bloodshed after the eve and the night of the liberation of the city…including the other Unsullied at the barracks who rebelled almost immediately when word and chaos spread.

Twenty one thousand Unsullied, even if near half were half trained, were an exceedingly potent way to reestablish control in short order…

And after the first night came and went, Prince Aegon had spoken with the Unsullied, after he'd gotten to know which of the Unsullied spoke for the rest of them, asking them if they could help restore the city to order.

That act alone, he thought, had cemented their willingness to work with Prince Aegon. None had ever asked them anything, none had ever wished for them to have thoughts or agency of their own.

Though they were made numb with years and decades of consumption of the Wine of Courage concoction, he'd seen for himself that these Unsullied still had the bite of humanity in them once they were given an inch to be more.

He shook his head, his memories of the discussions of those strange Unsullied years ago shaken away from his mind and he took to glance to his surroundings once more.

Within a day, the city had largely been brought to a kind of stability, though it was still rife with tension three days later…as could be expected.

With four thousand cavalrymen sent out upstream the Worm river, led by Ser Maerro, to secure the estates and the farmlands and the towns, they were heavily dependant on the Unsullied to fill in the gaps.

It was fortunate that the city of Astapor was but a hundred and twenty thousand souls strong…a number that has not dwindled greatly even with the recent purging.

Still, the matter was complicated.

Something that he knew weighed heavily on the mind of Prince Aegon.

Many of the decisions, from the removal of the Ghiscari noble families from power and their possessions, to the killing of many of the accessory Ghiscari Uthrik had added to the purging list, had come with that in mind…the need to stabilise and fortify Astapor as a foothold into this seven cursed land.

And many more decisions would depend on the choices of these newly freed slaves, Unsullied and other alike. And Uthrik did not envy the Prince in this matter, he thought as he glanced towards the main fighting pit, one that was large enough to host the majority of the city's current population, made at a time when this was a city of million or more, and where many were already gathering, even hours before it was time.

Securing this city was only the easiest part of the plan.

Now, the hard parts would only begin.

Some of it was already begun, with the dispersion of information for the newly freed peoples, of the future that was in store for them – food security, means to earn a pay through labour and skills, housing and more – though he knew that much more would be needed, especially to retain their newly found freedom.

Much of which would be addressed in the announcement this eve.

As he got into the pyramid proper, he saw the bodies of their people, five and forty or so, their bodies overlain with sheets made of white cloths, with piles of wood stacked up in preparation of the funeral rites.

They lost few men in battle, their preparations and his intimate knowledge of the city and its layout had ensured that, yet, the sight of even a single death weighed on all of their souls, he knew.

It was something that had to be accepted.

Every single one of them were clad in chainmail and armour, and were used to it – they'd been made to train in them and even sleep in them, and the weather of the Summer Isles aiding in their acclimatising to the harsh weather of Slaver's Bay – even if all of their plans and strategies were perfect and went seamlessly, they were to lose men in this campaign of retribution and liberation of theirs.

He only hoped that their loss was as few as possible and that as many as possible lived to see their Promised Land.

He made his way through the pyramid, walking passed the men and knights, and long after, after several floors of climbing, did he arrive in the central hall of this pyramid, where he'd once attended on invitation, and he saw Prince Aegon amongst a crowd of men looking towards the carved table of Slaver's Bay.

Bobal, the leader of the former gladiators and soon to be commander of the city guard, one of the Unsullied commanders, Ser Aethan Celtigar, Ser Trytas, Ser Galaenys, Keller, and three of the soon-to-be the face of the regency council of this city, Kraqez, Shedir and Zernik, all of whom were natives to this city, until at least the 'institutions', as the Prince liked to say, were in place and readied for the republic to be born proper.

Something Uthrik thought may take years and depended wholly on their success in liberating the other cities in this accursed land.

"I hope I am not late." He said with a heavy nod, which was mostly returned to him though Kraqez, Shedir and Zernik offered him warm smiles.

Many of the 'Ghiscari' people he'd brought to Corinth thought very well of him, despite the truth that it was undeserved. Throughout his years-long travels across Slaver's Bay, these men and women were amongst those who had the brightest spark, even if they went through great pains to hide their cunning, their smarts and their understanding of things.

They were merely the luckiest, and mayhaps the most obvious, of the peoples he'd seen. He did not choose them because of mercy or because of sympathy. He could not do so, no matter how much he'd wished and yearned for it, else he'd have tried to save the many thousands of slaves he'd seen throughout those terrible years.

With great failure.

"Nay, you've just arrived in time. We were mostly waiting on your lousy arse anyway." Ser Galaenys said in a laugh, grasping his mind away from his dark thoughts "Although you missed the beginning of the briefing. Prince Aegon not long ago received word from Maerro through the candle. The town of Hashik has been secured." That…that was good news. Surprising but good news.

Riding from Astapor to Hashik was two days' hard ride, and that was pushing it, he thought to himself, especially since there was need to secure many more places in between Hashik and Astapor.

The estates and the small town of Zahnan a half day's ride from Astapor must have fallen on the next morning of the day they'd taken Astapor.

"He's taken the estates and Zahnan quicker than I thought." Uthrik stated as he stared at the map with the womanly statuette located where Zahnan was before he looked to the prince.

"Bastard's having the time of his life." Galaenys said in a scowl as he tapped the map. "He's having the men ride hard to secure the estates and the towns."

Along the river Worm, there were many, many estates and towns, many of whom provide food, slaves and resources. The town of Hashik lay at the twinning of the river Worm, where the majority of the most fertile lands were located.

So, it came to no surprise that it was one of the most important places that were needed to be secured. Hashik was also ruled by a family, the na Quahzir family, and they also controlled much of the farmlands which it is said came into their control not long after the Doom when the lands were suddenly without any owners.

In a way, the na Quahzir, even if they were not the wealthiest of families, were considered to be Good Masters as well, simply due to their strategic resources.

Prince Aegon nodded with a thin smile.

"Ser Maerro and the men have exceeded themselves." Ser Maerro would split his forces into halves, one half tasked to secure the estates whilst another would ride for Zahnan, a town only mayhaps five thousand with near four thousand of them slave workers and only a few hundred being slave soldiers.

The rest of the town were Ghiscari minor 'nobility' who owned parcels of land and at times functioned as auxiliary soldiery in the instances of rebellion.

And the estates were far more distributed and numbered but they were also far less defended and taking them would not take long.

Still, they'd encounter such places several orders of magnitude more once they made it to Meereen which had many estates and towns mostly untouched by the Dothraki surrounding the city and also particularly upstream the river, especially in the parts around the Khyzai pass which alone hosted the majority of the Meereenese productive lands.

The Prince continued. "He successfully convinced most of the slave soldiers of Zahnan to rebel, a decision no doubt made easy at the sight of thousands of cavalrymen, and made short work of the Ghiscari soldiers and nobles." The prince paused for a moment before he continued. "Similar events happened at Hashik. We are fortunate that there are few Unsullied in the hinterlands of Astapor. "

Unsullied were an expensive investment for the lesser off Ghiscari nobility in the hinterlands, especially since the availability of other kinds of slave soldiers from Yunkai and Meereen were available and much cheaper in relative terms.

And, given that the slave soldiers only had to ensure that other slaves met their quotas in the fields and in the mines, slaves that were largely ill-fed and bred in captivity, there was little need for hardened and greatly skilled Unsullied.

This discovery of his during his travels, his discoveries into the ways these Ghiscari thought and worked, had been planned into their strategies.

"Our losses?" Uthrik asked and the Prince's expression bore hints of grimness.

"Eight and twenty." Prince Aegon said he met Uthrik's eyes. "For all that has been accomplished, it is few but it is also eight and twenty too many in my eyes." Prince Aegon said before he looked away and towards the map "Ser Maerro has been ordered to take it easier on the men now."

The Prince continued. "Now with the people freed and na Quahzir family and its vassals having been…dispossessed of their land" 'and of most of their lives' Uthrik thought to himself. There would only be women and children remaining, he knew.

Had there not been as much of a chaos and the freed peoples less filled with the blood lust spawned from the chaos, the Good Master families would have survivors. Dispossessed survivors, true, but survivors nonetheless.

"- The fall of the rest of Astapor hinterlands will go much quicker." Prince Aegon said and they all looked to him as he placed a statuette, a womanly figure with a torch in her hand, a strange symbol the Prince had taken to represent places that were liberated.

The Prince then moved the cavalry statuette and the horsedrawn catapult – a contraption that was the same as catapults but much smaller that would be drawn by horses and instead of rocks, it used 'stable' wildfyre 'explosive' jars that made short work of gates and even walls though city walls would need far more than Ser Maerro's forces had taken with them – away from Hashik and towards the smaller towns and estates to the north side of the twinning river.

Those towns and estates were predominantly there for mining. Copper, tin, iron, salt and all kinds of rocks for pigments were taken from those mountains and hills.

Uthrik nodded. With "And their loyalties?" Uthrik asked the obvious question.

"I will go and 'visit' them all with Mīsaragorn once Ser Maerro and his men circle back in the next few days. From what Ser Maerro said, some of the former slave soldiers could be 'convinced' to have a greater role in the campaigns to come." Prince Aegon said with a small smile, though he did not miss the cold hard eyes.

The way the Prince said convinced…Uthrik understood it to mean several things all at once. Most would likely be convinced by the presence of Mīsaragorn whilst others were likely to have their loyalties secured by the promise of wealth.

Distant wealth.

Prince Aegon was adamant that none of the former slave soldiers were to have positions of power in the places they came from. Rather, he intended to promise them wealth and land in other liberated regions of Slaver's Bay…and if he could help it, he'd split them apart as much as possible with only a few notably influential men amongst the soldiery elevated into positions of influence.

The unfamiliarity of the new cities and the new lands all was going to aid in limiting the…possible political power these soldiers could assemble, according to the Prince.

And Uthrik understood the sentiment. Most kinds of slave soldiers were not that dissimilar to ordinary guards. They were, largely, slaves in name only. They were, without doubt, the best treated slaves in all of Slaver's Bay, especially the ones who worked at estates and towns.

The Prince continued "I have further news to share." The Prince said as he looked towards the Unsullied with an incline of the head.

"Commander Rhaegar has informed us that, two thousand of the Unsullied have volunteered to be part of the cityguard to be commanded by Bobal and the regency council" Prince Aegon said with a pause and a nod to the old Summer Islander and the Unsullied, a nod that was replicated by everyone except for Uthrik as he was startled at that news.

Prince Aegon smiled amused at his expression before he continued "The Unsullied have also agreed to support Astapor with another two thousand of their numbers with retaining control over the hinterlands. They will work with our men and will be coordinated with by the administrators that will be stationed in Hashik."

"That is good news." Keller spoke up for the first time as he looked towards the Prince and then the Unsullied Commander…Rhaegar.

"The faster we permanently secure the farmlands and the estates, the more sure we can be that the work of the administrators will be smoother." Keller added before he looked to Prince Aegon "The food supplies within the city are less than we thought there would be." Keller grimaced "And of poor quality."

"I've ordered Ser Maerro to make sure to keep records of what is stored in the hinterlands." Prince Aegon said, his expression serious as he eyed the map before he eyed the three Ghiscari administrators "It will be amongst your foremost tasks to ensure the food supply is secure."

"Yes, my Prince." Kraqez said with a bowed head before he eyed the Unsullied "Commander Rhaegar. If you could arrange a meeting with the captains of the supporting Unsullied, that would be appreciated."

"This one will arrange a meeting after this meeting ends." The Unsullied…Commander Rhaegar said in an emotionless voice.

"Thank you." Kraqez said with a respectful nod.

"I'm sorry but I must ask…Rhaegar?" Uthrik asked as he glanced between the Unsullied and the Prince.

"Hahaha! I knew you would be taken aback by that." Ser Galaenys said in an amused grin, a look that was shared by Ser Trytas and Bobal.

"This one has chosen a permanent name." the bald copper-tanned Unsullied Commander said without any emotion on his face, and he realised that the man did not know why Uthrik found it so…startling. Where in the Seven's earth did the Unsullied find that name? It was a Valyrian name.

Prince Aegon smiled a little as he nodded slightly. "I broached the topic of the Unsullied choosing their own names. Permanent names. The commanders agreed and soon all of the Unsullied will have a name that is as theirs as much as their will and bodies are."

Uthrik nodded slowly. 'Rhaegar…' he thought to himself, still surprised. He'd have to ask the Prince another time how exactly that name came to be known to this Unsullied…

"Now that that confusion has been cleared…" Prince Aegon said with a certain look towards him, and Uthrik grimaced slightly apologetically and the Prince smiled briefly before he turned serious as he continued to speak. "Our schedule to depart in eight days remains." The Prince said as he glanced around, meeting all of their eyes. "We will need to march hard and fast. We cannot expect our presence to be unknown anymore, despite the precautions we have taken."

Prince Aegon had with Mīsaragorn burned down all of the ships they'd blockaded, without regard to whom or where they hailed from, in the harbour alongside the mounted carracks with the Jar-Bolts scorpions whilst the Prince also swept around the city to deny any escaping on horseback.

But, some could have, and likely did, slipped out in the evening or in the night.

Truthfully, it did not hinder them, if some escaped and warned Yunkai.

If anything, it would almost certainly prove useful, if it warned the Yunkai days before they arrived at their walls with an army of thirty thousand and a fearsome dragon large enough to eat a horse whole.

Plus, their fleet had boarded several ships in the patrolled Astaporean seas, and it would only be a matter of time before one ship managed to escape capture.

One of the many 'scenarios' they thought up included the possibility of the Yunkai submitting to Prince Aegon without a battle fought, one that would see them release their slaves and leave behind an empty city of innocents.

All that would leave, would be decimation of the remaining inhabitants of the city.

That…that possibility, something that he knew Prince Aegon greatly favoured and hoped for. Uthrik could not find it within himself to care for the brutality that was planned for these…people. Truthfully, he never hated anyone before, not until he met and dined with these people who easily breathed in cruelty as if it was air.

They continued the meeting for some time later, discussing the logistics of the Yunkai and Meereen campaigns, along with the consistency of the forces.

Their total fighting force now consisted of twelve thousand Elamaerysians and sixteen thousand Unsullied, a total force of nearing thirty thousand men.

It was formidable.

Their forces, the Elamaerysian forces, broken in units of a hundred, ten units of archers, forty units cavalrymen and mounted archers, thirty knights, thirty units of spearmen and five units of engineer-soldiery tasked to build and maintain the special carriages and any other siege weaponry, should it ever be needed, with five units of the knights remaining behind to guard the Ullhor pyramid where their volunteering people were situated along with supporting the bulk of the fleet and the Unsullied.

The knights and spearmen were to be strategically placed amongst the Unsullied forces, if, or mayhaps when, they are confronted with an enemy force that cannot be destroyed with dragonfire.

The archers and horsemen would be deployed depending on the circumstances, the terrain and so on, though they expected the archers would remain rear-located forces supporting the Unsullied, knights and the spearmen whilst the horsemen were expected to be used sparingly in battlefields, if at all, their need largely being to secure the hinterlands of the liberated cities as fast as possible.

At most, they long ago decided, they'd be used to break the backs of their downed enemies.

If they were quick enough, fast enough in their march to Yunkai, and then to Meereen, they could ensure that they were not drawn into a battle, even if it was largely going to be won with dragon fire.

Their numbers were largely more important for the gaining control and sustaining control over Yunkai and Meereen, especially if the way they behave was not in accordance to their battle plans.

'Conquering is easy. Keeping it is the hardest' Prince Aegon had said and the fact that the Ghiscari nobility considered slavery as a fundamental right, to their very identity, made it impossible that they could be made part of the new Republics.

And, Uthrik thought to himself, he would much rather side with the enslaved than he would ever wish to respect these so called rights.

Soon enough, many of the war-council members left, leaving only behind Keller and himself with Prince Aegon

"Your reports on the whereabouts of their wealth and treasures has been astoundingly accurate." Prince Aegon said with a smile to Uthrik as they walked towards another part of the pyramid, flanked as they were by the Prince's guard.

"We've managed to secure most libraries largely intact, fortunately enough. And we found the wealth and treasures in hidden walls, just in the places you thought they may be." Keller added and he took to look at the man. He'd seen a few of the Good Master's libraries, enough to estimate where these people kept their books…and where they may keep other kinds of treasures.

Unlike most other parts like Westeros or Braavos, these Ghiscari kept their treasures at the very top of their pyramids.

And he also guessed, from the way the buildings seemed at the top, less space inside than what seemed should be when viewed on the outside, there were false walls and hidden chambers. A guess that seems to have been right.

"I take it that was where most of their coin was located?" Uthrik asked and Keller took to look at the Prince for moment before he looked back at Uthrik and he was more interested now.

"That and more." Keller said as he gestured towards the large chamber at the end of the walkway, a walkway that was guarded by half a dozen knights, something that made him quite curious of what could necessitate such security.

And when they walked through, he understood why. "You moved all of this here?" he wondered as he looked upon obscene amounts of gold and silver. How has this pyramid not yet collapsed, he wondered.

There were piles upon piles of gold was here, more than he ever

"No…this is merely the wealth of the Ozdaks." Keller paused before he spoke again. "Former wealth"

Uthrik was stunned. This…is was one families' wealth?

Even during all of his time in Astapor, and the other cities, he'd never seen their wealth. Oh, of course, he knew they were wealthy. That much was obvious to see. Yet, with the way the city seemed, he thought their wealth was nothing spectacular, mayhaps equivalent to Prince Aegon in terms of wealth.

But this…

This was ridiculous. There must be millions of gold coins here.

"I see…" Uthrik said slowly, still stunned. "How are we moving this?" he asked, his eyes still on the gold.

"Carefully." Prince Aegon said and he turned to look at the Prince who looked almost…annoyed. "I don't understand them. This can't be safe" Prince Aegon said in answer to his puzzled look at the Prince's annoyance. "I'm worried if we move any large amount at the same time throughout this pyramid, we may end up collapsing parts of it."

"I see." And Uthrik did really see what the Prince meant.

"It also means" Prince Aegon continued. "That is, if the rest of the pyramids are as…plentiful" 'That's one word to describe this' Uthrik thought "We'll have to rethink the distribution of the coin."

"You mean to leave more in the pyramid?" Uthrik asked.

"No, I mean to stock some of the accompanying with large amount of coin so as to limit risk."

The majority of the ships would not be coming with them to Yunkai.

About fifty ships would be coming but all fifty would be carracks and the Prince's galleon flagship which were all scorpion mounted.

Only Uthrik's skill in masking emotion prevented him from raising his eyebrows.

"You doubt…?" he left unfinished.

Prince Aegon shook his head. "I trust my men, our men, with my life. I simply do not wish to expose the wealth that is now in our hands. I aim to deceive the people of this city that the majority of the wealth taking from the Good Masters is now on the ships to Yunkai." Prince Aegon's gaze bore into Uthrik's.

"We will be away for likely moons, mayhaps more if we are pressured in the West. By then, I expect word of the change of…circumstances to be made known to the Known World." Prince Aegon looked towards the coin.

"Word will spread as rumours and sightings and stories are heard at the ports."

"Corsairs." Uthrik said finally.

If it was known that the bulk of the taken wealth is on the ships, there may be those who might think they can get away with an attack specifically on the ships.

"Or worse." Prince Aegon said. "I will also be using the Ullhor pyramid as a base to store a larger portion of the wealth." The Ullhor pyramid was their base of operations in Slaver's Bay. The majority of their volunteers would call that place home for some time, they expected. As long as they were in these lands anyway.

"If Yunkai and Meereen are anywhere closely as wealthy as the Astaporean slavers were, then we'll have a great deal of gold problems." Prince Aegon said with a grimace and Uthrik let off a laugh.

"Here we are already bemoaning a problem that many would happily die having…no offence, my Prince." Uthrik said with a smile.

Prince Aegon looked amused for a moment before he looked away from Uthrik and back towards the coin. And Uthrik looked at the Prince for a moment, knowing that the Prince was already thinking far into the distance about how to manage problems such as these.

He'd still wondered how the Prince manages to do it. To think of so many different things, and keep track of it, many of which, he knew, Prince Aegon only kept in his mind until it was needed to be shared.

And knowing the present actions and plans that were thought of in mind with consequences and effects and possibilities, almost sometimes to disturbing detail, whatever else he was considering, were likely as detailed as their present plans.

The Prince once told him many years ago, just before he departed for his mission to make account of Slaver's Bay, that their actions in Astapor, Yunkai and Meereen were never going to be limited there, and years later, that was found to be true.

Unless they were careless and irresponsible, they would find themselves inevitably dragged into the politics of the region, and why they had to secure the crescent of Elyria-Tolos-Meereen-Yunkai-Astapor, if they had any hope of making their retribution have any kind of permanency.

And even then, that was not the only thing they were dragged into.

Even now, he knew, this campaign of theirs in Slaver's Bay was far from the only thing that was and would be happening Essos, thanks to their ties to Lady Johanna and her desires of a Free Lys, another prime example of a long term plan set in motion many years ago.

Volantis was likely going to be a problem, depending on how much of a threat they see in terms of the happenings of Slaver's Bay, which by their estimations was an answer of 'severe'.

Their plans to limit themselves to the Black Cliffs and Tolos instead marching into Mantarys was done in mind in the faint change to delay Volantis from acting out long enough for their plans in Lys, plans that were culminating into fruition soon, to go unhindered as much as possible.

A plan that would require them, particularly Prince Aegon, to intercede in defence of Lys many moons from now when the Tyroshi and Myrrish attacked, a situation that had so many different possibilities and so many things fraught with danger and threat and failure, that simply thinking of it made one's head spin.

He shook his head, blinking away his thoughts as he refocused and asked a question that he was most curious about. "Has there been any Valyrian steel found yet?"

"I was wondering when you'd ask." Prince Aegon said with a smile. Uthrik knew Prince Aegon's interests in the legacies of Old Valyria, whether that may be tomes or more worldly things like Valyrian Steel.

"We found several spears with Valyrian Steel spearheads and over three dozen Valyrian Steel daggers and thrice that number in trinkets and jewellery. They've been taken on board the flagship." Uthrik whistled at that.

"And you've yet to find all of the locations of the treasures?"

"Yes." Keller said "We expect to find similar amounts in the rest of the pyramids."

Uthrik nodded before he eyed the Prince once more.

"Will you reforge them?" he asked curiously.

"No." Prince Aegon said with a shake of the head. "I have something else in mind for them." Uthrik was curious but the firm look in the Prince's expression made him keep his questions.

Soon enough, he departed from the Prince's presence, making his way towards Ser Galaenys and the other men at the fighting pits. He found them with some of the gladiators sparring, seemingly greatly enjoying their bouts.

Some of the gladiators had requested that they join the campaign, an easy decision to make, all things considered. The gladiators, particularly the captured former soldiers by the Dothraki, of which there were not many, about five and ten, were useful beyond their arms. Many of them had been to places in Meereen and Yunkai, and likely knew other gladiators too there.

Convincing as many of them to join in the wars would be good boon to their forces.

Noon made way for afternoon and then evening in quick orders, the time having arrived for Prince Aegon's announcement and he found himself standing at the first row of the fighting pit.

He marvelled at the sight in front of him, every row filled to the brim with the Astaporeans, and he thought to himself that there was certainly more than the eighty thousand capacity this fighting pit was said to have. The fighting pit itself was three hundred and fifty across, with rows of seats built almost vertically, with the fighting pit itself, many, many feet below the surface ground.

Only the top half, mayhaps less, extended above the surface ground.

This fighting pit, he thought as he turned to look at the gathered bronze harpy statues, a near mountain of it, was the only fighting pit that could fit this many people into it and it was the only place where it could be assured that the Prince would be heard by all.

Say what you will about the Ghiscari predecessors in the many centuries before, they knew how to build well. The sounds that could be heard from the fighting pit were clearer than one could expect…as much he loathed to remember.

A roar dominated the buzzing crowd, who, long after the roar ended, quieted down, in awe as they were at the sight of Mīsaragorn gliding down towards closer to the edge of the fighting pit, away from the mountains of harpy statues.

And, as the claws of Mīsaragorn touched ground, a roar of cheers sprang loose, a roar of cheers that was made louder when Prince Aegon walked down Mīsaragorn's wing and walked closer to the centre before he came to a stop and looked around, wearing his armour as he was.

The square slowly quieted down and the Prince began to speak

"I AM AEGON TARGARYEN." Aegon bellowed, his voice echoing in the fighting pit with strange clarity and strength, the quietness of the crowd deafening.

"THE MAN WHO LED THE MEN OF ELAMAERYS AND THE UNSULLIED AND CAST DOWN THE FOUL GOOD MASTERS!"

This caused a rupture to form, the quietness that ate away at the crowd broken as chants of "AEGON!" "PRAISE AEGON!" "AEGON! AEGON!" tore through the fighting pit until, until another sound, a great growl from Mīsaragorn, that all felt and heard, made the crowd cease and quiet down once more.

"YOU PRAISE ME" Prince Aegon said as he raised his arms, slowly turning around as he recaptured their attentions. "YOU THANK ME."

Prince Aegon then lowered his arms. "DO NOT THANK ME. I AM NOT YOUR SAVIOUR." Prince Aegon bellowed before he turned his hand towards the contingent of their men "WE ARE NOT YOUR SAVIOURS."

Uthrik could tell there was some confusion amongst the crowd, unsure confusion and mayhaps some anger too, anger that may stem from a queer sense of betrayal.

The Prince continued "SAVIOURS ARE STORIES THAT WE TELL OURSELVES. STORIES THAT WE WANT TO BE TRUE."

The Prince said before he pointed towards the cast down harpies. "THIS IS NOT A STORY, PEOPLE OF ASTAPOR. I AM BUT A MAN. ONLY A FREE MAN.

THE MEN AND THE UNSULLIED WHO FOUGHT WITH ME, ARE ONLY FREE MEN TOO." The Prince said in a loud powerful voice, and now Uthrik could see that the crowd were enraptured, keenly interested where the Prince was going with this.

"JUST LIKE YOU ARE, WHO NOW ARE FREE AND NOW HAVE CHOICES ONCE ALWAYS DENIED TO YOU!" The Prince bellowed with a wave of the hand, and this garnered great enthusiasm and excitement amongst the crowd.

Yet they quieted once more when the Prince's voice was again heard.

"AND THIS FREEDOM WILL EARN YOU A GREAT MANY ENEMIES, ENEMIES WHO HATE THE VERY IDEA OF YOUR FREEDOM!"

This caused worried murmurs to ring around.

No doubt, did many of them think of the future…and what it meant for them. Prince Aegon of it, only forced to the front of their minds.

"FROM NEW GHIS TO YUNKAI AND MEEREEN.

FROM QARTH ALL THE WAY TO THE OTHER SIDE TO VOLANTIS AND BEYOND, THERE ARE THOSE WHO WILL CONSPIRE TO DESTROY YOU AND PUT YOU BACK ON CHAINS."

This caused the worried murmurs to grow, the depth of the problems they face sinking into their very bones, though, before panic could spread, Prince Aegon once more, his voice seemingly making the rest of their murmurs die down.

"DO YOU KNOW WHY?" Prince Aegon only bellowed, and it was a bellow that echoed fiercely and strongly, the deathly quietness that followed akin to that of a breathe that was held firmly in one's chest.

"BECAUSE THEY FEAR YOU." Prince Aegon bellowed once more, the fierceness with which he spoke somehow sinking into his very words.

Prince Aegon continued.

"THEY FEAR WHAT YOU REPRESENT.

THEY FEAR WHAT YOU CAN ACCOMPLISH.

THEY FEAR WHAT YOU CAN DO WITH JUST THE RIGHT MEN HELPING YOU KEEP YOUR FREEDOM." The Prince rattled with furious bellows, his words fired like waves of arrows upon a battlefield and Uthrik could feel the crowd stirring, the concern and worry so readily displayed only moments ago making way for assuredness, for agreement with the words spoken with strength and conviction.

"AND THAT IS WHY I AM SPEAKING TO YOU NOW, HERE." The Prince spoke in a quieter bellow, yet there was firmness in his voice.

"TO ASK YOU QUESTIONS THAT MUST BE ANSWERED." Prince Aegon said as he spun from the same spot, his arms aloft, seeming as if he was meeting eyes of every man, of every woman, of every child presently here.

"WILL YOU LET THEM DESTROY YOU, I ASK YOU.

WILL YOU LET THEM TAKE YOUR FREEDOM, I ASK YOU.

WILL YOU LET THEM CHAIN YOU AGAIN, I ASK YOU.

WILL YOU GIVE UP THE RIGHT TO MAKE CHOICES AGAIN, I ASK YOU!"

The Prince's bellows rattled out of his mouth, every sentence spoken, sharper, and more furious than the last, and the crowd felt every word and every sentence spoken, stronger and stronger after one sentence finished after the other, rising from their seats, rising in voice, rising in conviction, and the last sentence that had been spoken was akin to a thunderclap, a thunderclap that was followed by a hailstorm of deafening roars that drowned the fighting pit.

No! Never! No! Never!

Voices that exclaimed 'no' and 'never' were drowned as the majority of the crowd roared in a frenzied craze, stamps shook the foundations of the fighting pit and flailing arms among twisted faces drowned his sight, though, it was yet to truly erupt, no…

That only came when Mīsaragorn let off a torrent of blue flame towards the downed statues of harpies, a symbolism that was quickly understood by those present, burning and melting the bronze statues into muddled puddles amongst glassed sand.

"DOWN WITH THE HARPY!"

"DOWN WITH THE HARPY"

Uthrik would be worried for Prince Aegon, he thought as the temperature rose noticeably in the wake of the molten bronze, had he not been aware that the Prince was capable of coming out unscathed from amongst flames and fire.

Somehow, the frenzy quieted down as the Prince began to speak, men and women amongst the crowd forcing the others to regain the minds so that they can listen once more.

"IT IS GOOD YOU SAY NO.

IT IS GOOD YOU DENY THE HARPY.

HAVE NO DOUBT, YOU WILL NEED TO BE STRONG.

FREEDOM IS NOT A RIGHT, IT IS SOMETHING THAT MUST BE PROTECTED.

ALWAYS.

AND THE WAY YOUR FREEDOMS ARE PROTECTED ARE TO DEFEAT THOSE WHO SEEK TO CHAIN YOU.

AND I, AND THE FREE MEN WHO FIGHT WITH ME WILL HELP YOU BUT" Prince Aegon paused as he raised his hand once more.

"I MUST ASK FOR YOUR AID AGAINST THE ENEMIES WE NOW SHARE.

YUNKAI.

MEEREEN.

AND BEYOND.

WILL YOU PLEDGE TO ME THAT YOU WILL SHARE YOUR STRENGTH SO THAT NO MORE CHAINS SHALL RATTLE IN SLAVER'S BAY?" Prince Aegon bellows as he swept his hand across in a fury.

"I PLEDGE!" resounded in a series of deafening roars.

"WILL YOU PLEDGE TO ME THAT YOU WILL STAY TRUE AND DENY THE HARPY AND ITS FOUL WAYS?"

"I PLEDGE!"

"WILL YOU PLEDGE TO ME THAT YOU WILL RISE AND PICK UP A HAMMER, A TOOL, OR A SPEAR IF IT MUST BE NEEDED?"

"I PLEDGE!"

Prince Aegon then walked towards Mīsaragorn who angled his wing to allow the Prince to climb on him and when Prince Aegon was atop of Mīsaragorn, he drew his sword, and in that moment, Uthrik, thought, more than every moment before, did Prince Aegon look like the man who make even the Gods follow into battle.

"AND I PLEDGE TO YOU, PEOPLE OF ASTAPOR, THAT I WILL NOT ABANDON YOU TO THOSE WHO WOULD SEEK TO DESTROY YOU.

I PLEDGE TO YOU, PEOPLE OF ASTAPOR, THAT I AM NOT YOUR CONQUEROR BUT A FRIEND AND A DEFENDER OF YOUR FREEDOM.

I PLEDGE TO YOU THAT IF I MUST, I WILL MELT EVERY CHAIN WITH DRAGONFIRE AND REFORGE THEM INTO WEAPONS OF DESTINY WITH THE FLAMES OF LIBERTY.

I PLEDGE TO YOU THAT IF YOU STAY STRONG, THAT WE WILL BRING THE DAWN ON THE HARBOURERS OF TERROR.

I PLEDGE TO YOU THAT IF YOU FOLLOW ME TO THIS JOURNEY TO THE NEW DAWN THAT NO MORE SHALL OTHERS RISE ON THE BACK OF THE SUFFERING IN THIS LIBERTY BAY."

"Maggie's saggy tits, seven damned, I love it when the Prince makes a speech! This one is his best yet!" Galaenys said with a half-roar, contending as he was with near enough all other voices who were sizzling to erupt out once more in a frenzy, their desire to keep hearing Prince Aegon speak, the only thing that kept them from rioting in a craze.

And, at this point, Uthrik thought to himself, he did not think there were many that did not feel the same impulse as the rest of the crowd did. Not even himself was immune to the madness the Prince was inspiring.

And it was madness, Uthrik thought with a moment of clarity. This was beyond what was agreed, beyond what was talked about.

"I PLEDGE TO YOU THAT IF YOU STAY TRUE, THAT I WILL AID YOU TO SEE A NEW GLORIOUS DAWN THAT NEVER ENDS." Prince Aegon bellowed as he swept his hand across before he finished with "WHAT SAY YOU?!"

The sky rumbled and thundered with an explosion of sound, of voices, of frenzy.

"NEW DAWN!" they chanted

"FREEDOM!" they cried

"FREEDOM FOR ALL!" they roared

"NEW DAWN!" they cheered

"LIBERTY TO ALL!" they promised

"DAWN!" they thundered

"BRING THE DAWN!" they sang

"BRING THE DAWN!" they sang

"BRING THE DAWN!" they sang

"BRING THE DAWN!" they sang

And so, they sang long into the eve, then into the night, for hours and hours since, and only when the first promise, the first lights came, the warmth and glory of the morning sun touching on their skin, did they stop their singing.

For they, Uthrik thought to himself, were finally content.

For in their eyes…

They sang the dawn into the world.