Captain Ronald Peake 262AC Astapor
I tempered my excitement as I made my way out of the camp astride my horse, finished with readying the men for what was to come. The moment we had waited on for countless moons had finally arrived with Vallar finally declaring himself ready.
Two full years had passed since our bitter defeat at the Battle of Bloodstone and in that time much had changed. Our recruiting chapter in Pentos had worked tirelessly, swelling our numbers to a solid eight thousand men and though still short of our old peak it was a marked recovery from those days when our golden battered banners barely rallied a few thousand.
We had spent these past years split between contracts from Astapor, Yunkai, and Meereen, fighting not for glory but to keep our coffers full. One month we'd serve as a bargaining chip to force the Dothraki to lower the amount of tribute they requested and the next we'd be hired to push some borders a few leagues this way or that, often switching sides as contracts expired and new ones were signed. It was unsatisfying work but it kept the men sharp and fed.
Vallar for his part had claimed he needed the time for his dragon to grow which was an excuse the officers found reasonable, thinking even more so when he had at long last fully informed us of his plan this morn. Even so he had hardly been idle these two years with his scribes and nascent spy network mapping the terrain and cataloging every grain barn, slave barracks, and more in Slaver's Bay.
Furthermore, Vallar had drilled the men relentlessly with forced night marches under moonless skies, enforced stricter camp fortifications, reorganized the companies and officers, and initiated an iron‑fisted curtailing of vice. Gambling, wine, and whores were all now strictly controlled by vouchers. While the Golden Company was no stranger to discipline, Vallar gave the word a new meaning. Gone too was the old right to loot and rape after victory replaced with generous bonuses and regulated brothels. Had it not been for the senior officer's knowledge of the dragon and a noticeable rise in pay for all the men there might have been a mutiny.
I pushed my horse further away from where we were camped, a little ways outside Astapor itself spread along the banks of the Worm River close enough to the city that the coastal breeze carried its stink.
As I crossed into the field beyond, I saw that as usual it lay bare save for a single tall wooden marker. Red Scab, the Unsullied commander of Vallar's personal guard, was already there waiting silently. I pulled my horse alongside him greeting him before a hush fell over us as a shadow darkened the morning light.
And then the dragon came into view, its black scales gleaming like polished onyx and wings broad and sinewy. Its eyes bright as hammered gold swept over the field below as it descended, a limp and bloodied sheep hanging from its jaws taken somewhere in the plains of Lhazar, the beast's usual hunting fields. A random Lhazarene shepherd no doubt cursed his misfortune, though our accounting ledgers gave credence to the idea that Vallar always repaid them.
By now the dragon's existence had grown harder to hide with fewer people laughing at tales of a winged beast glimpsed at dawn, and more and more matching stories circulating. The creature landed with a heavy beat of its wings, bending grass and kicking up dust in its wake, and upon its back sat Vallar himself.
He slid from the saddle with practiced ease, though still ungainly as a boy of twelve. His silver‑gold hair was still shorn very short, a habit he'd taken up, and though still short of stature his build was broad‑shouldered and thick‑necked, much like his supposed father Maelys the Monstrous. The dragon curved around him protectively, the sunlight playing across its scales.
It was no longer a scrawny whelp that could curl around a boy's shoulders, no, now at two years grown it rivaled a small elephant in size, with wings broad enough to cast a shadow over a dozen men. Smoke curled lazily from its nostrils and when it lowered its head to accept a calming scratch from Vallar, I felt a chill run through me. Soon, very soon, the world would no longer be able to ignore who we followed and what followed him.
"Red Scab," Vallar called, the words having the Unsullied standing straight, "it's nice to see you. Have an escort be readied for I mean to meet with the 'Good Masters' of Astapor." The scorn in his tone when speaking the words "Good Masters" was sharp, all of us had grown to disdain those sanguinary bastards in our dealings with them. Red Scab inclined his head silently before quickly marching off. Vallar then turned to me and spoke.
"Captain Ronald, you know your role. Take care that when you capture the city gates and harbour that no one escapes. Remind the men of their impending rewards while warning them of floggings and hangings for those who loot and rape. Make a few examples if necessary."
I saluted with my fist on my heart before running off to check on the men who were breaking camp.
– – – – – Ratted 262AC Astapor
My iron and leather collar itched against my skin in the choking Astapori heat, and I fought the urge to remove my rough linen shirt. The red stones of the Plaza of Pride all but shimmered and I felt each breath burn my throat as today's weather was especially brutal atop of the larger reason. Beside me, lazily seated on a cushioned chair of cedar and ivory, Graynz mo Nakloz was fanned by two slaves, the silk of his tokar moving in the wind along with the fat pinned jewels.
My duty as usual was to serve as Graynz's translator, though it always felt absurd doing so with the Captain-General of the Golden Company for he spoke High Valyrian the same as my master and me. But Graynz's theatrics demanded it, and so I waited for someone to speak, my heart hammering in my chest knowing that today's meeting was not about some routine contract.
The reason for my certainty let out a low, rumbling exhalation, that simple action heating the air around us some more. When the beast had first landed I had doubted my eyes and I still did for who wouldn't upon seeing a dragon, creatures long thought extinct.
I glanced again at the beast whose black scales caught the sun's glare so fiercely I had to squint. When it's knowing gold eyes turned to me I immediately returned to staring at the ground fearing that it would add me to the blood that painted his teeth.
Graynz, so often a man of honeyed words and rehearsed grandeur, for once set aside his theatrics and looked fearful. With a flick of his ringed hand, he waved me back. "Stand aside, boy," he murmured, which I leapt to the side in response. Standing for the first time in our numerous meetings, Graynz addressed our guest directly.
"Captain‑General," Graynz rasped, his voice cracking slightly. "I did not expect so grand an entrance."
"I'm sure you did not just as I'm sure you did not expect me to come sell you a dragon," Vallar replied, voice calm and noticeably sweating less than us.
Graynz's eyebrows lifted, confused but I saw the familiar trace of greed enter his features. "Sell? Why do you mean to do so?"
"I mean to conquer Westeros, something that could be done on dragon's back but I would be unable to hold it. If I conquered it at the head of an army of Unsullied on the other hand my hold would be absolute," Vallar answered.
Graynz smiled wide, clearly pleased, and spoke the familiar tongue of business all while eyeing the black beast. "And how many Unsullied do you think would be a fair price, my future King of Westeros."
Smirking humorlessly at the flattery directed at him the boy warlord answered with a hard voice and leaving no room for compromise "Every Unsullied including those in training."
Graynz's mouth worked silently before words found him. "Every single one? Even the uncut boys?"
"All," Vallar said. "In exchange, you will have him." He placed his gloved hand onto the dragon's neck, the beast spreading its wings shading us for a cool moment before retracting them again.
Graynz's eyes burned with greedy light, but caution showed behind them as he remembered his position. "Such a decision is not mine alone, the other Good Masters must agree," he said slowly.
Vallar nodded. "Then gather them but leave the boy here. A gift, if you please, for my patience."
Graynz barely hesitated and his hand shot out, shoving me forward. "As you desire," he said, before hurrying off, silk robes swirling and his guards hastening behind him.
Heart thundering, I dared not meet the boy‑lord's, 'My new master,' I corrected, gaze. Vallar regarded me quietly for a moment before speaking.
"What is your name?" he asked.
"Ratted, my lord, I mean my King," I quickly corrected myself.
"Ratted," he repeated, testing the shape of it. "Would you keep it, if you could?"
The question struck me silent for in my world names were given, not chosen. Not knowing if this was a test I chose the safer answer of shaking my head no, pushing down what I really felt.
Vallar continued with his inquiries, "And how many tongues do you speak?"
After listing them all out Vallar reached out, mussing my sweat‑matted hair. His leather glove warm from the sun.
"That's clever, especially for your age," he murmured, ignoring the fact I was only a year, if even , younger than him. Grabbing my chin he lifted my gaze from the ground. "Keep your eyes open, you'll want to see what comes next. I sincerely hope you enjoy the show."
I grew confused at his seemingly nonsensical word before the dragon shifted, claws scraping stone, breath steaming the air. Growing alarmed my body ached to move but I remained in place not having been given an order by my master. Seeing this Vallar laughed, a short low sound.
"Don't mind Fafnir, he doesn't like the taste of human meat and only attacks when I say so. Matter of fact, Fafnir shade." Following the command the dragon unfurled one of its wings, raising it into the air providing me with some much needed relief from the sun.
Graynz returned some time later, and he did not come alone. An assembly of every Good Master worth naming filed into the plaza, dozens of men in gold‑studded robes, painted beards, and perfumed sashes. Behind them marched their guards, and beyond them thousands of Unsullied both the full‑grown eunuch soldiers, drilled to unflinching standards, and the boys in training.
They stretched across the square soon filling it entirely with thirteen thousand heartbeats, some nine thousand Unsullied and four thousand trainees.
The harpy‑headed whip, symbol of ownership over the Unsullied, was brought forth in a cedar box. Graynz took it with both hands, lifting it so sunlight glinted off its gilt and gold and walked over to Vallar.
"They are yours, Captain‑General if the dragon is ours," he announced, his voice dripping with anticipation.
Vallar stepped forward and in his hand, he also held a whip, his being of black iron.
"This," he said, raising it, "commands the dragon along with his name, Fafnir."
Graynz's eyes widened, greedy fingers half‑lifting to seize it. Vallar extended it, then pulled it back a handspan.
"But first," he said softly, voice carrying across the plaza, "I would very much like to see if the Unsullied obey me."
Graynz's smile faltered, brow creasing. "Please test them, then," he said, handing over the whip.
Grabbing and testing it in his hand, Vallar then turned to face the massed Unsullied.
"Unsullied," he commanded, his voice carried by the structure of the plaza, "take two steps forward."
What followed his words was a sound like a hive of bees. Thousands of sandals moved across the brick floor in perfect unity. Helmeted faces stayed blank, spears held steady, and shields straight.
Vallar's expression changed and his lips curved, not into an innocent child's smile but something much hungrier and colder. He gave the order that no one in that square expected.
"Unsullied! Kill every slave master that owns more than three people and every guard that tries to stop you. Free every slave and bring me the wealth of the Good Masters."
For an instant, time held its breath.
Graynz's face twisted in panic and stepped forward, hand darting for the whip in Vallar's grasp.
Before he touched it, two Unsullied flanked him. One drove his spear through Graynz's mouth, sending his teeth exploding in a wet red spray. The second thrust low into his belly, twisting cruelly, tearing silk and spilling intestines onto the floor. Graynz died gurgling, eyes wide, blood frothing over unheard words. I stared at his corpse, shocked at the quick death of the man who had power over me my entire life.
The Unsullied rapidly advanced with precision, spears thrusting and turning. Masters shrieked as their silks were darkened with their own blood. A corpulent master tried to flee but two spears crossed and skewered him, his dying howl choked by blood.
One master begged, trying to press gold coins into a eunuch's palm. The coin clattered uselessly onto the stone as a spear drove into his eye, bursting through his skill in a red and white spray. Another master dropped to his knees, hands raised begging but the Unsullied, having killed innocent babes, struck his guilty heart with no mercy, spraying blood into the air.
I rubbed my eyes thinking that I had gone mad from the heat but I looked again and saw the still corpse of Graynz.
The slavers guards rushed forward but they couldn't stand against the Unsullied and so died from quick thrusts aimed at all over their bodies from their heads to even their feet.
Graynz had liked to say that Astapors bricks had been turned red from the blood of its slaves and as if set on reversing that myth the Unsullied poured pitcher after pitcher of slavers blood onto the red brick.
Fafnir unfurled its wings, letting out a rolling growl, gold eyes bright with reflected slaughter before taking flight towards the gates of the city. Watching its speeding and returning body I was shocked at how quickly it reached there and back.
I was brought back to the moment as an Unsullied trainee came toward me spear wet with gore. My heart stopped and I clenched my eyes shut bracing for pain. I was instead greeted to the sound of my collar being cut. Daring to open my eyes I looked at the boy whose eyes, dark brown and unblinking, seemed to soften a breath. A nod, angled so small was given to me before he turned away and back into the red tide.
The air stank of blood, smoke, and death. Dead masters lay sprawled like broken dolls their guts steaming in the sun. Vallar's dragon curled around him letting out quick bursts of flames burning any fools that sought to kill its master in an arrogant attempt to take him with them.
I stared at the boy who watched the tumultuous scene all without flinching or looking away. Tapping his hip that bore the famed sword Blackfyre he even seemed bored.
Time had passed in this manner before the Unsullied returned bearing chests full of goods, freshly taken from the Good Masters, having finished their task. Trailing after them was the Golden Company and a mass of former slaves, now free men, women and children. They muttered the word father in half a dozen tongues while pointing towards Vallar and his dragon.
Vallar quickly ordered a detachment of Golden Company men to move the goods into the largest pyramid and ordered them to guard it. He was then briefed by a man I recognized as Captain Ronald Peake, the man who did contract talks if Vallar wasn't present. He followed his lieges order to spread the Golden Company men amongst the crowd to control them before returning to Vallar's side.
Vallar now moved to the highest point in the Plaza of Pride with his dragon which deafeningly roared into the air to quiet the din of the gathered crowd before he spoke.
"Unsullied, I ask that you join all of Astapor in freedom," Vallar began, throwing the leather whip into the air to be burned by Fafnir. The Unsullied stirred at that but nevertheless Vallar continued ripping off his shirt to expose his scarred back to the crowd.
"I too was once like you taken into bondage and beaten by men who thought they owned me but such times are over. Slavery in Astapor is at its end but there are those who think that a city built on slavery cannot survive without it. Will you let them say a slaveless system failed?" Vallar asked, being answered by the crowds roared "No."
"Then we must work together, every single one of us. Over the coming days I ask that you meet with my scribes who will take down your name, age, and skills amongst other things. This will be used to give you a job, one that pays well with mandatory days off ensuring food on you and your families plates," the crowd cheered at that and I noticed the astute faces of the people who realized they were now without a source of food with their master dead relax. Vallar raised his hand and the crowd soon quieted.
"There are also those who will come marching with steel trying to enslave us again," Vallar said, drawing Blackfyre and pointing it skyward, "I shall answer them with mine own steel. I ask you Unsullied and men and women of Astapor to join me to fight as free men for freedom."
The crowd roared "Yes" this time with all of the Unsullied joining in.
"I mean to rule over you as your Emperor. Know that you needn't fear a tyrannical reign for I shall enshrine all your rights in a book of law, with the first law outlawing slavery."
The Golden Company men began to shout "Hail Emperor Vallar von Theonia", I tilted my head at the last name that wasn't Blackfyre, before taking up the chant along with the entire city, falling to our knees in fealty and gratitude towards our savior. This chant was so clamorous that to regain silence Fafnir had to unleash another roar.
"A feast shall be prepared for you all. Rejoice for the Free City of Astapor is no more with this now being Astapor of the Theonian Union ruled by me as Emperor for you."
Vallar finished and with that he turned and vaulted lightly onto the dragon's back, the black beast shifting its weight, accustomed to its rider. Clutching the leather handles of the saddle, Vallar leaned close to whisper and with a thunder of leathery wings Fafnir leapt skyward.
Gasps rose from the crowd below as the dragon banked sharply, climbing in tight spirals that shimmered against the midday sun. Higher still they rose until with startling agility for a creature so large Fafnir rolled sideways mid‑flight and dove straight downward towards the crowd only pulling up at the last moment so sharply that Vallar's cloak flared like a banner and cold wind washed over the crowd of people.
Below Golden Company men began to move swiftly and efficiently. Heavy tables of cedar and iron were dragged into the open square and casks of wine and ale were cracked open with a ring of iron hammers. Platters of honeyed lamb, roasted vegetables and fresh flatbreads, were being cooked and served by the Golden Company chefs with some freed cooks making their way over to aid them. Other men with sleeves rolled worked to clear the blood‑slicked bricks, scraping away gore and dragging corpses aside until the plaza once more shone red in the sun, though now clean of master's blood.
Some men did not partake in the revelry standing by as guards breaking up drunken fights and the like. I enjoyed good drinks and food with everyone as overhead Vallar wheeled on dragonback like some black‑winged herald of a new age, the gold of his hair flashing each time the dragon turned, drawing every gaze skyward before leaving after some time towards the largest pyramid, his entertainment being replaced with musicians and mummers.
My heart surged as I took off my sweaty tunic not needing anyone's permission. Standing on a table, drunk for the first time in my life, I shouted "Long live Emperor Vallar. Long live the Theonian Union," being cheered by everyone around me.
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Next couple chapters are going to be Kingdom Building focused and Battle focused.