The Eminence in GOT-Chapter 61: The wars of the family. Part 2. Silver Beast

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***

P.O.V. Jorah Mormont

The beginning of the eleventh month of the year 299 A.D.E.

Mother of Dragons' Horse Guards, vicinity of Meereen, Slaver's Bay.

«Soon we will be at the walls of Meereen, Khaleesi. - I said, swaying on my horse beside the queen.

«That's good. It won't be long before the last stronghold of the slave trade in these lands falls. - My queen smiled her ever-beautiful smile.

Almost two months have passed since we fled Qarth in haste. Much has happened in that time.

When we arrived in Astapor, after the Golden Eagle's recommendation, we went straight to the masters of the city, who, according to the old tradition of Giskar, call themselves the Good Lords. But there was nothing good about them.

Kraznys mo Nakloz, the de facto ruler of Astapor, was the clearest illustration of how rotten this city was and how much of a hell Ancient Gys was to most people. He smelled like he'd bathed in raspberries, his red and black beard glistened with oil, his mouth reeked of the worst of the booze from a mile away, and his body was so fat that most women in the world had much smaller breasts. And his behavior... Taking my advice, the Khaleesi did not show that she knew Valyrian and communicated with Mo Nakloz through the little slave translator Missandei. Most of the bastard's words were about what positions and how he would fuck her, not about the trade itself, so the little Naatian had to twirl around like a beetle in oil trying to get us an acceptable translation. How hard it was for Ser Barristan and me not to draw our swords and slaughter the wretch, only he and I know. But the Khaleesi's feelings were much, much stronger.....

But if my anger was hot and scalding, hers was cold and deadly. And if I remember her views on the slaves who bent their backs in three deaths, who perished under the whips and whips of the overseers and were sold as mere cattle, then hoards of goosebumps involuntarily ran down my back.

I could see that in all these people she saw herself, who was languishing under the oppression of her elder brother and also sold like a thing for the sake of the army and the throne. I knew in my heart that we would not leave the city peacefully.

The good gentlemen were shocked to learn that the "horsefighters and vagabonds from the edge of the world" had enough money to buy all nine thousand Unsullied provided, but the slave they sent and soon returned confirmed our words. We were already planning to leave when the Khaleesi gave me and Selmy a deep shock with her words. She offered Reigal, her golden dragon, for five thousand still-trained Unsullied.

At that moment I couldn't help but think of the queen's family madness, if she was going to give a whole dragon for five thousand castrated boys. But all that was resolved the next day. When she was presented with the golden claws of the harpy, a symbol that she held the lives of fourteen thousand Unsullied in her hands, she handed over to the Good Lords the three chests that Tempest had given her. Only there was no gold in them.

When Kraznys mo Naclose opened one of them to admire the rows of pure gold, he saw the emptiness. The chest was empty, without a single coin inside.

«What's the meaning of this, you little shit!?! - He shouted in his high and nasty voice.

«It means the only thing you'll get for the lives of these people. - Answered him in pure Valyrian, without the usual Tyrosh accent, Khaleesi, then turned to the eunuch warriors standing not far away. - Flawless ones! Kill the Lords! Kill the overseers! Kill all those who oppressed and humiliated the slaves!

That day, Astapor lost all the families of the Good Lords who made their fortunes from raising and selling Unsullied, and their head, Kraznys mo Nakloz, went to the bottom of the bay alive, shoved by a few strong Unsullied into that very chest. At once, the Khaleesi had gained a fifteen-thousand-strong army of soldiers loyal only to her, and had become the enemy of the entire Gulf of Slave Traders. But there was a problem - Astapor had no fleet of its own, and to seize the ships of visiting merchants who belonged to Quarth, the Free Cities, the Golden Empire, and even a few houses of the Seven Kingdoms, such as the Hightowers and the Manderlys, would be incredibly foolish. So the Queen decided to kill two birds with one arrow - capture Yunkai and Meereen lying to the north and take their fleet, which could be used to ferry her entire army.

There was no problem with Yunkai - the city, which for centuries had made money from growing and selling prostitutes of all sexes, did not have a strong army unlike Astapor. But it had good connections. Nearly a thousand mounted mercenaries from the Raven-Briars and the Younger Sons, along with five thousand slave warriors, where only a fifth were Unsullied, met us under the city walls.

There, the Khaleesi once again showed her keen mind: the Stormwind Ravens squabbled over her proposal and ended up coming over to our side with the new captain Daario Naharis, the Younger Sons got drunk on the wine sent to them beforehand, and the Yunkai thought they'd have three whole days before the assault. The end is one - three hundred thousand slaves lost their collars, the Khaleesi got another title, "Misa", which meant mother in Giscarian, and our army got thirty fighting gauls and a thousand more or less loyal horsemen.

Meereen was waiting for us.

With such thoughts I did not notice how I found myself in the middle of a crowd stretching for several miles, consisting of ordinary people and the Unsullied guarding them, very much behind the Khaleesi.

«Toudou!

«Toudou!..

«Toudou!...

The sudden roar of the battle horn came as a complete surprise to me. And if the Unsullied and the freed slaves accompanying us were just turning their heads, not knowing what that sound was, then I immediately realized that we were completely screwed.

"There's more than a thousand of them," I said, noticing how some of the rocks on the ground shook, and just a few moments later an avalanche of mounted men sprang out from behind the nearest rock where the Younger Sons were supposed to be scouting, pointing their spears at our column and raising their banners high, the symbols on which made me feel cold inside.

The Ironclads and the Druze of the Rose.

Nearly five hundred riders clad in closed steel armor were coming at us and there was nothing we could do about it. Daenerys Targaryen's army was ambushed.

«Form up! I shouted at the top of my voice. - Quickly, if you don't want to die before your time! Unsullied, form five rows! Otherwise, they'll get in! Faster! Faster!

To the eunuchs' credit, they quickly came to their senses and began to reorganize even before I gave the order. But still, they were out of time. Only three rows were built before the wave of riders could get too close.

"I hope the Khaleesi will be okay," I thought as I put on my light leather helmet and drew my sword from its sheath. The battle promised to be hard.

***

The beginning of the eleventh month of the year 299 A.D., seven hours later.

The main tent of the Mother of Dragons, the outskirts of Meereen, Slaver's Bay.

«What was that? - The last of the dragon family asked us calmly, her violet eyes flashing ominously. - Daario Naharis, I'm asking how your men failed to notice the two thousand heavy riders that were closing in on us!

The attack on the middle of our column was not the only one. Front, back, left and right. Two thousand heavy-armed riders, hidden in advance in the small valleys and gorges that abounded in the lands around Meereen, struck at the most vulnerable points of our column. Six hundred Unsullied, three thousand commoners, and two hundred mercenaries went to their deaths, while the attackers quietly retreated towards the city with less than fifty casualties.

Thank the Gods the Khaleesi was unharmed - her dragons were at her side at all times, scaring away with fire anyone who wanted to approach her. Though I heard on the way to the tent that she wanted to use them to kill as many attackers as possible, Viserion, the green dragon, was the first to fly away from her and took several crossbow bolts to the wings and tail. Luckily dragons are hardy creatures, even if small, so he survived and was able to crawl back to his mother and continue to scare off random riders with jets of fire. But this moment was telling - since they had several dozen good crossbowmen, the mercenaries never fired a single shot at the Khaleesi, it meant they didn't need her death.

«I sincerely apologize, Madam. - The blue-haired Tyroshean, who had not left the battlefield in one piece - his trident-shaped beard was missing a single strand, and his arm was tightly wrapped in bandages completely soaked in blood. Though knowing who he was facing I'm surprised he survived. - I couldn't keep track of my men and they got too relaxed. I will accept whatever punishment you give me.

«We'll think about the punishment later. - Said the queen, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. - In the meantime, can someone explain to me who attacked us? This is the first time I've seen such well-equipped heavy cavalry here. They looked more like the knights in your story than mercenaries, Ser Jorah.

«And they were knights. - I answered, drawing the incomprehensible stares of Ser Barristan, little Missandei, and Grey Worm, the chosen commander of the Unsullied. Brown Ben and Naharis had been mercenaries for a long time, so they knew exactly what I was talking about. - One of those who attacked us was the Rose's Druid. They are a very old mercenary force, made up of northerners and wildlings who went to Essos back in the days of your great ancestor, Aegon I the Conqueror. They didn't like Torrhen Stark's decision to bend the knee, so they went to Essos and founded a mercenary force that still honors northern traditions and tactics. You've seen their riders - gray cloaks, simple helmets, and thick chain mail. The second attackers, on the other hand, will be much more of a problem.

«Ironclads. - I was interrupted by a snarling Plumm, who had received a wound on his cheek in the last battle, which was now covered by a fresh bandage that smelled of medicinal herbs. - These freaks had appeared in Essos several years ago. Trained, armed, disciplined, they immediately took a lot of work away from the rest of the squads. But I must admit, they're worth the price. They're considered the strongest mercenary force in the world, after the Golden Swords.

«And they're led by the younger sister of our gold-bearing acquaintance, whose letter he asked me to deliver. - I finished after the old mercenary, smiling in my heart at the Khaleesi's eyes widened in surprise. How beautiful she is when she doesn't have the mask of a strict ruler and an overbearing queen on her face.

«It's those Tempers again. - Like a curse, she said, closing her eyes and rubbing her nose tiredly with her fingers. - What the hell are they doing here? I thought all the forces of the houses of the Seven Kingdoms were focused on the quarrel in Westeros. So what's an army of one of them doing here?

«The Ironstones are not the armies of House Temper. - I corrected the Khaleesi. - Rather, it's another source of their wealth. Mostly they fulfill the Iron Bank's orders to collect debts from their borrowers, sometimes taking orders from other Free Cities. I don't know what they're doing in Slaver's Bay.

«They were guarding the construction of the fortress. - Daario said, walking over to the table in the center of the tent and pointing to the place where the Skahazadhan, the river on which Meereen stood, split in two. - As I had heard in Yunkai, quarrels had begun in recent years between the Dothraki and the Lords. The former wanted more money for slaves and the latter wanted to pay less. There were even a few clashes when the little Khalasars attacked the Myerin settlements standing on the road to Lhazar. So the Great Lords decided not to be petty and to get rid of the steppe menace at once by building an impregnable fortress in a convenient place, securing their city from the east. And for this purpose they hired the Druzhina Rosa and the Iron Stoops, who were to guard the builders.

«And that's where the weirdness begins. - A frowning captain of the Younger Sons entered the conversation. - I know the captains of these two units. Reed Stark, the head of the squadron, is a man of calm and pedra...pedna...ugh, pedantic! Wo! and, during his time as leader, his troop never once broke its contract. Silver Bitch on the other hand is a real maniac before battles, unpredictable and dangerous. Our squad met her a couple times, and that ugly scar on Mero's cheek was left by her. But the real head of the squad is her deputy, Robin Good. He's the one who negotiates with clients and negotiates contracts. And the way he does business, he's a lot like Stark. Anyway, until they'd finished the fortress and made a new contract with Meereen, they wouldn't have attacked us.

«The conclusion is the same. - I sighed heavily, realizing what the mercenary captains were driving at. - So they broke the contract with them and made a new one, paying a considerable penalty. Khaleesi, that's too bad. It means that the Great Lords, unlike the Wise Lords of Yunkai, take you seriously and the taking of the city could become very difficult.

«What do you suggest, Ser Jorah? - She asked me, folding her arms under her chest.

«Return to Yunkai. We can easily hire ships in Tolos and Aelyria with Temper's money. They'll be more than enough to ferry your army to Westeros and even capture some of the former slaves. - I answered, looking hopefully at the queen who had been thinking for a moment.

«Missandei, how many slaves live in Meereen? Oh, no.

«I have been there with Master Kraznys several times, Your Majesty. At one of the meetings, one of the Great Lords mentioned that Meereen is the greatest city in all of the Slaver's Bay and has five hundred thousand slaves within its walls. - The little Naatian said, her words burying my hope for a peaceful outcome.

«Five hundred thousand. - The Khaleesi turned to me, enunciating each syllable. - If memory serves, that's the population of King's Landing. The capital of the Seven Kingdoms! And all these people, like disenfranchised cattle, give their lives for the sake of those who see them as soulless living commodities. I don't know about you knights. - She looked at me and Ser Barristan, who had been silent all this time. - But I can't watch innocent people die for nothing!

No one objected to the queen.

An hour later our army stood at the city walls, lined up in straight rows, preparing for the negotiations with Meereen, which were more a tradition and a last-ditch attempt at negotiation than an attempt to end the matter in peace. And the more I looked at the walls, the more I wondered who among the Great Lords had been smart enough to start raising an army as soon as Astapor fell.

The banners of the Iron Stoops, consisting of a winged axe, two blazing flames and an inscription, the Roses, in the form of a rose with thorns on a blue background, the Sons of the Wind, and one more unit unknown to me, with a crest in the form of a flying eagle and a small crescent moon, flying on the walls showed perfectly well how much the main families feared the Khaleesi and how hard it would be to take a city in which, in addition to their own troops, there were at least eight thousand mercenaries.

«Here they come. - I heard the voice of Daario, who was standing nearby, and was the first to see the gate open and a small mounted party of five men ride out. It was easy to recognize the rider who rode ahead as a native Giskar - dark skin, black hair, straight nose, and brown eyes were the only exposed parts of his body, which was hidden beneath a harness of Giskar scaly armor, in the form of a robe with several layers of six-ringed chain mail. Apparently he was the representative of the city, and the others were the mercenary captains now standing on the walls.

I recognized the ragged prince at once, for I had served the Sons of the Wind for a short time when I was a mercenary. Dressed in his usual colorful cloak and white armor, the tall old Valyrian, with sad, sleep-deprived eyes, was not the most distinguished of the four captains.

Recognizing Reed Stark wasn't too difficult either. Red-haired, with a thick beard and mustache, wearing leather armor with iron rivets and a long two-handed sword, he didn't look like Eddard Stark at all, more like some kind of Amber or wildling. But if you looked closely, you could easily see his eyes were gray, like the calm northern sky. I'd seen them only once before, and unfortunately their owner had parted with his head on the steps of Baelor's sept in King's Landing.

The third of the captains was a woman, and it would have taken a fool not to recognize her as the one who, among mercenaries (and not only), bore such odious nicknames as Silver Bitch and Princess of Battle. Elaina Temper was beautiful. Beautiful with the kind of Valyrian beauty that captivated and enchanted Khaleesi. Lilac eyes, long platinum hair braided in an elaborate style, a regular face, and an alluring figure hidden behind the leather marching armor that all seasoned warriors from the West wore to keep from boiling in their lats. But the few small and almost imperceptible scratches, the hand that kept on the sword at all times, and, most importantly, the eyes that scrutinized each of us, especially lingering on me, Grey Worm, Ser Barristan, and Naharis, made her an experienced warrior, capable of giving many unpleasant surprises to those who underestimate her. And the two white and healthy wargs, walking beside her and scaring the horses galloping beside her, reinforced this picture even more.

I didn't know the last of the four captains. He was a gray-haired Dornish man with a straight face mottled with wrinkles, a large nose, and a short beard. It was evident that he had been popular with the women, but those days were long gone, and now he was as old as, if not older than, the Prince-Oborvanz, who had already turned seventy this year.

Soon this little procession drew up and a Meereenese rode forward, removing his helmet from his head, beneath which was an elaborate hairstyle in the form of two twisted ram's horns arranged with varnish.

"He does realize he looks so much like a ram, doesn't he?" - I thought involuntarily, glancing behind him, where young Temper was shaking wildly, trying not to laugh out loud. She wasn't doing a very good job.

«My name is Oznak zo Pal, of the noble house of Paley. I have been chosen to negotiate on behalf of the Great Lords of the greatest city that now exists and has ever existed, Meereen. - He began to speak in the Giscarian dialect of the Valyrian language, which of all those present, only Ser Selmy did not know. But Missandei stepped into his position and quietly translated his words without interfering with the ambassador's speech. - We have a proposition for you, last of the accursed dragon family. We give you ships and thirty thousand marks in gold, and in return you leave our god-blessed Gulf and never return.

«It is an honor to meet one of the great Paley family. - In the same profane manner, the Khaleesi began the conversation in the perfect Giskar dialect she had practiced with Naatika on her way to Yunkai and Meereen. - I have heard the proposal of the Great Lords of Meereen and now I ask to hear mine. Free all slaves in the city and its suburbs and give us enough ships to ferry my army to Westeros. In return, your city will not be plundered and you will not suffer the fate of the two hundred innocent children who were nailed to posts all the way from Meereen to Yunkai.

There was silence, where the two representatives stared at each other uninterruptedly. It was Oznak who was the first not to hold out.

«A woman. - He began the conversation in good Andalos, judging by the quivering lip that surprised the Khaleesi a little. - Do you know how deals are made? In them, both parties have to gain something or not lose much. If it were my will, I would challenge one of your eunuchs to a duel and show what they are worth in a real fight. But the Lord's Council has clearly instructed me to negotiate and keep you out of our city by any means necessary. So don't test my patience, take what you've been offered and get out!

«Not until all the slaves in the city have lost the collars around their necks. - The queen replied with a furrowed brow, and judging by the dragons that sped up and roared in the sky, she was in a mild frenzy.

«Stupid whore. - With undisguised disdain spat out these words, the Meereenian realized that negotiations were initially useless. - You'll die a painful death soon! There are thirteen thousand warriors in the city, and when your eunuchs start starving to death, I will personally march out of the city, smash your army, and rape you on the dead bodies of your winged creatures! Hrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!

His spitting at the feet of the queen's horse almost made me grab my sword and chop that ur-rod on the spot. And judging by Ser Barristan's grip on his sword and the mercenary's threatening twirling of his stiletto with a naked woman's hilt between his fingers, I was not the only one with such thoughts.

«Let's go! - He bellowed to the captains behind him, but as he rode backward, he was hit in the face by a woman's graceful fist in a stiff gauntlet.

«There was no clause in my contract about taking orders from sheep. - Said Elaina Temper, rubbing her wrist with her left hand, looking at the noble Giskar who had fallen out of the saddle, with a distinct trace of her fist on his cheek. Judging by the tired sighs of the other captains, this was not the first time they had seen such a situation.

«My lady, he is one of our employers. - The Oborvanian Prince remarked with a slight chuckle, while the head of the squad only rolled his eyes and the Dornian smiled broadly. - His father and grandfather will be very angry when we get back behind the walls.

«So what of it? - Raising an eyebrow sarcastically, the girl asked him, her tone lacking even a hint of respect for the prince's age or merit. - This sheep was tasked with negotiating, not provoking the Targaryens to throw all their forces at us and then burn us in dragon fire. freeweɓnovel.cøm

«No argument with that. - The head of the Sons of the Wind agreed with a grin, adjusting his cloak around his shoulders.

«Reed, be a friend, put this one back on the horse and ride back. The heat is unbearable. - She turned to the descendant of the Northmen, waving her palm in front of her face a few times.

«Why don't you go fuck yourself, Temper? You knocked him out, you pick him up. - Stark answered her stiffly, nodding toward the still unconscious Paul. The girl had hit him too hard.

«Eh... - She sighed heavily, jumping to the ground and in one motion threw the unconscious body on the croup of her horse. - And my father still grumbles that I haven't married yet... I just don't have any normal men around.

«How much do you want for coming to my side? - The Khaleesi finally came to her senses, having recovered from the shock of such an unexpected event. I myself, to my shame, was still in a slight stupor. Of course, Temper's eldest daughter had been described as a girl with a very... hard and fickle character, so much so that her father had sent her to distant Essos to lead a mercenary force, but this time the rumors were much diminished. - Whatever price the Great Lords offer, I'm willing to give twice as much. And if you follow me after the capture of Meereen and help me regain the Iron Throne, you will receive respect, title, and lands in addition to gold.

«No. - The first to answer was the captain of the Rose's Men, his face unchanged. - No matter how greedy and money-hungry my men may seem to others, the word of a Northman is not just a sound. We will not break our oath and we will fulfill our contract to the end.

«I agree with my old acquaintance, Your Majesty. - The Oborvanian Prince answered second, glancing at Stark as he turned and galloped slowly back to the city. - At my age, it is too late for such ventures. I have no heirs to pass lands, title, or gold to, and I don't want to be a pariah among the people you've insulted.

As Reed finished, he turned and rode slowly toward the open gate, where a considerable number of warriors, with all sorts of insignia on their cloaks, were already gathered.

«I suppose you will say the same? - Khaleesi asked the two remaining captains, the silver-haired girl and the old Dornishman.

«Of course I do. - With a cheerful grin, Temper replied, starting to turn toward the walls. A shadow had already fallen over the queen's face. She realized that taking Meereen had now become a very difficult task, primarily because of the unexpected loyalty of the mercenaries, who were far better than the Stormwraiths or the Second Sons. - In full view of an entire city of slave traders to accept the offer of their sworn enemy? I'm not out of my mind yet. So expect visitors tonight - according to my brother, you have an interesting letter for me, and I'd be interested to know what you've done to impress him so much.

Without waiting for the Khaleesi's words, Temper gave her horse a kick in the side and, taking Paul's horse under the reins, galloped to the gates of the city, accompanied by her dreadful dogs, where a small troop led by a man with a bow awaited her.

«What about you? - Quickly coming to her senses, Daenerys asked the remaining Dornish. - Will you take my side or will you be true to your word to slaveholders and tyrants like the others?

«A knight's word is inviolable. - He answered in an unexpectedly deep and strong voice, which made Ser Barristan, who was sitting next to him on his horse, change his face very much. On it very quickly slipped disbelief, confusion, and... joy? - And as long as he lived, he would be true to his word. My name is Leawen Martell, I served as a Kingsguard under your father Aerys Targaryen and was a close friend of your brother, Rhaegar Targaryen. Unfortunately, I was unable to keep my oath, having been betrayed by my own family. Let me serve you and atone for my sin.

There was a silence in which no one could say anything. Too many events had transpired for one day, from the ambush to the news that Prince Lieven Martell, head of the Sons of Memory mercenary force, was in Meereen.

"The gods love you, Khaleesi" - I thought as I looked at the oath-taking daughter of Ancient Valyria, whose deities had helped the last of their descendants rise above the world.

I knew of no other explanation for such a rapid rise.

***

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