Chapter 48 (Patreon)

93 AC. Yunkai

Daeron stood motionless at the port of Yunkai, watching the long lines of former slaves climb the gangplanks onto the ships of House Velaryon. A few days earlier, Corlys had given the order to move the entire population of the three captured cities into a single one - so it would be easier to defend them, rather than spreading their strength thin across three separate garrisons. The choice fell on Meereen, since of the three cities it was by far the largest, and able to hold such a number of new inhabitants without undue crowding.

The three hundred trading vessels that had come to Slaver's Bay could not physically carry off every freed slave at once. Their numbers were simply too great, and the sea voyage to Driftmark and the Stepstones took more than a single week. It was decided, then, that it would be simpler to defend just one fortified city while the Velaryon fleet carried the people to Westeros in stages. Once every former slave had been gathered in Meereen, Corlys and Daeron were to sail for Driftmark with the main army, while at the same time part of the fleet would carry the remaining people of Astapor to the Velaryon colony in Sothoryos.

Such a course solved two problems at once. First, it would settle the colony's shortage of hands for years to come. And second, while the people were being carried to Sothoryos, there would be time enough to take the Stepstones and secure them, after which the people still remaining in Meereen could be moved on to the newly won lands themselves. Besides this, Corlys had ordered several dozen more ships sent to the bay, so that each voyage could carry more people at once - ferrying nearly five hundred thousand souls across the sea remained an enormously difficult task, even under the most favorable circumstances.

While Daeron turned over all these numbers and timetables in his mind, Aguilar came up to him.

"My lord," he said, "every treasure taken from Yunkai is already loaded aboard the ships. You should go aboard yourself now and make ready to sail."

"My thanks, Aguilar," Daeron answered, pulled from his own thoughts. "See to it, please, that our departure from the city goes off without any needless trouble - we haven't the time to spare for delays."

"I will see to it myself, my lord," Aguilar assured him.

Before going aboard, Daeron swept his gaze once more over the empty streets of Yunkai, stretching away from the port into the heart of the city. It felt strange to leave it like this - utterly empty, not a single defender left upon the walls they had taken with such effort. Part of him balked instinctively at the decision.

But Daeron understood his brother's design, and knew that Corlys, as always, had reckoned it several moves ahead. An empty but still potentially wealthy city would draw far more attention from the neighboring Free Cities of Essos than a fortified, well-defended Meereen. Let the Free Cities tear at each other over who would be first to seize the cities, rather than give any serious thought to what was truly happening at the Stepstones. The longer they stayed occupied dividing up Astapor and Yunkai between them, the more time it would buy the Velaryons to secure the archipelago without unwanted attention from abroad.

Sometimes, Daeron reflected, the wisest strategy demands giving up what has already been won, for the sake of a far greater goal ahead - however unnatural such a sacrifice might seem at first glance.

A handful of Unsullied, left behind for one final sweep, reported to their commanders that no one had been left behind - not a single inhabitant of Yunkai was to remain in the city once the fleet set sail. Daeron gave them a short nod of approval and at last went aboard his own ship, taking his place at the rail.

He watched the once loud and crowded city gradually fall away as the fleet set out to sea. Hundreds of ships moved in a single, well-ordered formation, leaving Yunkai behind them utterly empty, without a single soul remaining within its walls. The only thing that caught the eye from the sea were several breaches in the city walls at different points, left there on purpose.

Tearing down fortifications of such size entirely, in so short a time, would have been far too great a task - but opening a few breaches at the most vulnerable points had proven well within their means. The Velaryons had chosen not to raze the cities themselves, reasoning rightly that it was better to leave three large, wealthy cities as a tempting prize for the neighboring powers of Essos - let the Free Cities turn their attention to squabbling among themselves over the empty husks of Astapor, Yunkai, and Meereen, rather than meddling in Velaryon affairs at the Stepstones. And the breached walls would only make the task of holding onto the prize harder for whatever conquerors came after, buying House Velaryon still more precious time to properly establish itself upon the islands.

After several days at sea, Corlys came in person to meet his brother at the port of Meereen. Embracing Daeron, he stepped back, looking him over with open approval.

"You handled the task given to you splendidly," Corlys said, genuine warmth in his voice. "And once again, you've lived up to every hope and every trust I place in you, brother."

After a brief greeting, the brothers mounted their horses and rode to Meereen's central pyramid, where Corlys had made his seat for the duration of his stay in the city. Entering the main hall, Corlys led his brother to a table the servants had already laid, and the two of them sat down to eat together. Daeron, thoroughly hungry after the long voyage, had no objection to sharing a meal with his brother.

When Daeron, for the first time in several days at sea, finally felt properly full, he set his empty plate aside and looked at Corlys.

"When do we finally go home?" he asked.

"We sail for Westeros in a week," Corlys answered. "But before that, we need to set everything here in proper order, so the city stays settled until the people start being carried over to the Stepstones."

"And how many men do you mean to leave here in Meereen, to keep order?" Daeron asked.

"Four thousand Unsullied for safety's sake," Corlys answered, "along with a handful of trusted stewards, to see that the city keeps functioning while we're away."

Daeron thought it over for a moment, weighing the numbers.

"Do you think that will be enough to hold the city, should it come to a siege?" he asked, a note of doubt in his voice.

"It will take the Free Cities a good deal of time to raise any force worth the name, and still longer to march it here," Corlys answered. "And by then, we'll already be moving the population out. Besides, we left Astapor and Yunkai untouched on purpose, as bait for the taking."

He paused, giving his brother a searching look.

"What do you think the Free Cities will prefer - taking two empty, undefended cities, or laying siege to a fortified Meereen, where they'd have to lose men for the sake of some doubtful profit?"

"While the Free Cities are busy cutting each other's throats over Astapor and Yunkai," Daeron said slowly, beginning to see where his brother's plan led, "we'll already have moved every last soul out of here."

"Exactly so," Corlys confirmed, with evident satisfaction.

"You may well be right," Daeron agreed, then added, returning to more practical matters, "But one or two trips certainly won't be enough for the fleet to carry this many people away."

"No, it won't," Corlys agreed. "But by the third trip, we'll certainly manage it. The whole business will take about half a year, and no small expense, with so many ships standing idle at once. But we can afford it - it's a long-term investment, and it will pay for itself many times over."

"In what sense?" Daeron asked.

"We'll gain a population skilled in all manner of trades," Corlys explained. "And according to the preliminary census we carried out, seventy percent of them are young - under thirty. The rest range from thirty to forty-five. There are very few of the truly old among them, and those few who are survived to such an age only through the care of their own kin. Someone alone, at that age, rarely survives slavery, sadly."

"So," Daeron said, turning this over in his mind, "once we settle the Stepstones with these people, they'll be able to work for the good of our economy for decades to come."

"Exactly so," Corlys nodded. "And now nothing stands in our way of invading the Stepstones, since we've already secured our House a living workforce, and at the same time tossed the Free Cities of Essos an apple of discord in the shape of three wealthy cities of Slaver's Bay, just waiting for the slavers to tear each other apart over who gets to claim them."

Daeron leaned back in his chair, taking in the full scope of his brother's design.

"That's a rather elegant way to keep Essos from meddling in our affairs at the Stepstones," he admitted. "But what do we do about Westeros? We were the ones who gave the Crown a modern fleet, which it had counted on to take the islands itself."

Corlys thought for a moment, and then a faint, barely perceptible smile crossed his face.

"I have a few ideas on that score," he said. "You see, a fleet has a rather unfortunate quality, from time to time."

"And what quality is that?" Daeron asked, raising an eyebrow.

"A fleet has a habit, now and again, of sinking to the bottom of the sea," Corlys answered evenly.

Daeron went still, staring at his brother with growing astonishment.

"You truly mean to sink the royal fleet, right there in the Narrow Sea?" he asked outright, hardly believing his own ears.

"Leave that worry to me," Corlys answered, neither confirming nor denying his brother's guess.

"Will you at least give me some hint of what you have in mind?" Daeron pressed, not letting the matter drop. "Or am I to learn of it after the fact, as always?"

"Let's just say it will be quite the spectacle," was all Corlys would say to his brother, his face giving nothing away.

"Sometimes I think you should have been born in King's Landing, and not at Driftmark," he added. "You'd have fit right in with the court's intrigues there."

"The gods forbid," Corlys answered, open distaste in his voice. "I'd much rather fight in the open, when I can - and resort to cunning only when an open fight would cost us too dear. Now then," he added, turning back to more pressing matters, "you and I ought to start preparing for the voyage home. And while we're on the subject - on the way back, send the trading fleet that brought the people out of Yunkai on to Astapor, to collect the people there and carry them on to Sothoryos."

At that moment, the doors of the main hall opened, and Ser Adam, Ser Duncan, and Ser Arthur entered.

"My lord," Ser Adam said, addressing Corlys, "the council you called is about to begin, and everyone there is waiting only on you."

"I'll be along shortly," Corlys answered. "As soon as I've finished speaking with my brother."

He turned to Daeron and gestured toward the third knight, whom Daeron was seeing for the first time. He was a man of about thirty, with hard features, hair of a silvery ash, violet eyes, and the dark complexion characteristic of men born in Dorne. His powerful build and considerable height marked him out at once as a seasoned fighter.

"Allow me to introduce Ser Arthur Sand," Corlys said. "He was born in Westeros. Slavers took him in Essos eight years ago, and since then he's been forced to fight in the fighting pits of Meereen."

"A pleasure to meet you," Daeron said, inclining his head slightly, "and I'm sorry you were forced to endure so many years of such slavery."

"The pleasure is mine as well, my lord," Arthur answered, with a faint Dornish lilt. "I've heard a good deal about you from Ser Adam and Ser Duncan, and everything they've said has been nothing but praise. What matters most, though, is that my slavery is finally over, and Lord Corlys has graciously offered me a place in the service of House Velaryon. It's a great honor for me to serve a House that has freed so many people from the weight of slavery - myself among them."

"Well, I'm glad Ser Adam and Ser Duncan think so highly of me that they go about singing my praises at every opportunity," Daeron said with a faint smile. "Since my brother has judged you worthy of serving our House, I trust his judgment without question, and I'm glad to welcome you into our ranks, Ser Arthur."

Arthur bowed shortly in answer, and all three knights left the hall, leaving the brothers alone once more. As soon as the door closed behind them, Daeron turned to his brother, curiosity in his eyes.

"Tell me more about him," Daeron said.

"You won't believe this. He's not just any bastard," Corlys answered. "He's Lord Dayne's own bastard."

Daeron raised his eyebrows in surprise, plainly not having expected such an answer.

"Lord Dayne's bastard, taken captive by slavers - that's hardly the usual story for a man of his birth," he said. "How did he end up a slave so far from Dorne in the first place?"

"He isn't particularly eager to talk about his past," Corlys answered. "From the little I've managed to learn, he left Dorne quite young, bitter toward his own father for never acknowledging him as a trueborn son, despite all his valor and loyalty to the family. He went off to seek his fortune across the sea, took a berth on a trading ship, and then the ship he was sailing on fell into the hands of pirates somewhere off the coast of Pentos. Pirates who, as you can imagine, are only too glad to sell their captives to slavers."

"Eight years in the fighting pits," Daeron said, shaking his head. "Few men are able to survive there that long at all. His has not been an easy life."

"Hence his reticence about the past," Corlys agreed. "But for all that, not a trace of bitterness toward the world, which is a rare thing in a man who's lived through something like that."

"And what exactly did you see in him," Daeron asked, "that made you offer him a place in your personal guard so quickly, instead of simply letting him go free along with the rest?"

"Ser Arthur is an exceptional fighter," Corlys answered. "He was champion of the fighting pits seven years running, and in training bouts he matches Ser Adam nearly blow for blow. I'd wager he could hold his own against Ser Duncan too, if Duncan weren't simply bigger and stronger than almost anyone we know."

Daeron nodded with respect.

"That he survived those pits, and stayed champion year after year, is impressive in itself," he observed. "To say nothing of the fact that few men can stand against Ser Adam."

"I haven't even mentioned yet that Arthur, like myself, prefers to fight with two swords at once," Corlys added, a faint smile crossing his face, unable to resist the joke.

"Now I understand," Daeron said, smiling back. "You simply want yourself a sparring partner who fights the same style you do."

"I won't deny that played its part in my decision as well," Corlys agreed, not bothering to hide his grin.

Daeron, however, quickly grew serious again, something else coming to mind.

"Arthur is Dornish," he said, a note of wariness in his voice. "Can he truly be trusted?"

"You needn't worry over that," Corlys answered. "I looked into his record and his history myself, and he's sincerely grateful to me for freeing him from slavery. A man like that doesn't betray the one who saved him."

"Then I have no objections," Daeron said, accepting his brother's explanation.

"Glad to hear it," Corlys answered, rising from the table. "Now come, they've already been waiting for us at the council. Once it's done, we can finally get some proper rest."

The council that gathered that evening in one of the pyramid's halls was made up of the most respected among Meereen's freed people - former merchants, craftsmen, and several commanders drawn from the Unsullied, Cleon among them, who by that time had already proven himself one of the most capable organizers among the former slaves. The matters under discussion were how to distribute the grain stores for the time remaining before the move to the Stepstones, and the appointment of temporary overseers for each quarter of the city.

Corlys spent most of the session listening, offering only the occasional short remark on some point of substance, leaving the people themselves to decide how to order their own lives through this difficult transition between slavery and full freedom. Daeron, watching his brother from the side, could not help noting the patience with which Corlys sat through proposals that were at times rather halting and confused, coming as they did from people who had never before in their lives had any say in anything - down to what they ate or what they wore.

When the council finally broke up, well into the night, the brothers left the hall together, feeling far more worn out than they ever did after one of their regular sparring sessions, whenever time allowed for one.

"You were surprisingly patient today," Daeron observed, as they walked down the pyramid's corridor toward the chambers set aside for them.

"These people have been denied any voice their whole lives," Corlys answered. "The very least I can do for them is hear them out fully, even when their proposals sound naive or untried at times. In time, they'll learn to manage their own affairs with far more confidence, but for that, they need the chance to practice now, rather than having everything decided for them, the way their former masters always did."

Meanwhile, above High Tide, two dragons cut through the air on broad wings - the graceful Meleys and the silver-white Silverwing. After circling the castle a few times, they descended and landed on the open ground at the center of the courtyard, the very spot where dragons had always settled during past visits. They were met by a tight-lipped Viserra and Lady Alice - neither Corlys's mother nor his wife had the faintest idea what Princess Rhaenys and the queen herself were doing there. No one had given them any word beforehand of such a visit from members of the royal family.

Viserra stepped forward, arms crossed over her chest.

"We weren't expecting guests," she said dryly, "and we certainly didn't think, after what happened at the feast, that the royal family would want to see Driftmark at all."

Rhaenys came closer to her, trying to speak as gently as she could.

"Please, don't do this to us," she said. "You know perfectly well that neither Grandmother nor I had anything to do with the king's decision, or with what happened at that wretched dinner."

The queen, drawing nearer, backed up her granddaughter.

"Rhaenys speaks the truth," Alysanne said. "I never meant to wound you or Corlys like that, Viserra. I cannot undo the past, or what your father said that evening, but we are here precisely to try to mend the relations between our houses."

Lady Alice, at this, came to stand beside her daughter-by-marriage, drawing herself up.

"Welcome, Your Grace, and you as well, Princess Rhaenys," she said, with a cold but flawless courtesy. "We will receive you in our home, as loyal vassals of House Targaryen ought to receive the royal family. Though I doubt the old relations between our houses will ever be fully restored."

She beckoned to the servants waiting nearby and had them bring out bread and salt - a sign that the queen and the princess were granted guest right, whatever grievances stood between them. Queen Alysanne and Rhaenys accepted the offering and each ate a piece, in token of accepting the hospitality.

"And where are your sons?" the queen asked politely, glancing about. "Since it's the two of you who come to greet us, I take it they're somewhere in the city just now?"

"My younger son Veylor is indeed in the city on business, and should be back soon," Lady Alice answered. "But Corlys and Daeron are not on the island at present."

The queen stiffened, hearing that two brothers at once were absent.

"And where are they, then?" she asked, poorly masking her unease.

"Since Corlys previously held the office of Master of Ships," Lady Alice explained calmly, "he could not leave the bounds of Westeros, owing to his duty to the Crown. Now that he has given up the office, he's found himself with time to spare, and decided to see to some business of his that had been piling up in Essos."

The queen looked, with open doubt, first at Lady Alice, then at Viserra.

"And where, exactly, in Essos is Corlys at the moment?" she asked, probing gently.

"He had business in Braavos and Pentos, connected with the affairs of the Bank of Driftmark," Viserra answered evenly. "My husband should be home before long."

The queen did not fully believe what she heard, though she said nothing of it aloud, only remarking, with a touch of sorrow in her voice, that she had hoped to speak with Corlys himself, to try to settle the disagreements that had arisen between their families.

"Disagreements is far too gentle a word for what happened," Viserra answered, not troubling to hide the bitterness in her voice.

"I understand that perfectly," Rhaenys put in, "and in your place, Viserra, I'd have reacted exactly the same way. But we truly have come here to mend relations between our houses, not to pretend nothing happened."

Lady Alice, judging it time to move the conversation somewhere more fitting, invited the guests into the castle, where they could speak of everything properly, and the Targaryens could rest a while after their journey.

Once everyone had taken their seats in the main hall and the servants had laid the table, the queen asked where her grandsons were just now.

"Daemon and Victor are asleep in the nursery with their cousins, Rhaella and Elia," Viserra answered. "Thea and Elise are looking after them."

"Then we'll visit them as soon as they wake," the queen said, and added, with a faint note of regret, "A pity I won't get to speak with Corlys himself today."

"This whole conflict would never have happened at all," Viserra answered sharply, "if Father hadn't publicly insulted my husband in front of every guest there."

"We all understand that perfectly well," Rhaenys said quickly, "and that's exactly why we're trying to set things right now, rather than make excuses for what happened."

The queen went on, trying to keep her voice as gentle as possible.

"I'm even prepared to speak to my husband about granting you some of the islands of the Stepstones, once they're taken," she said.

"Corlys offered the royal family a splendid bargain," Viserra answered, open sarcasm in her voice, "one that would have brought you several times more than the Lannisters, Tyrells, Hightowers, and Baratheons could offer you all put together. Perhaps Father sold himself short in the end, giving away the rights to the Stepstones to those houses for nothing at all, so long as the islands didn't go to the Velaryons - and so, by extension, to my sons?"

The queen said nothing, finding no answer to give, and Viserra, taking her silence as confirmation that she was right, grew angrier still.

"My husband offered you so much," she said, her voice rising, "and all he asked in return was not to go on being treated as nothing more than a servant of House Targaryen. It didn't even matter how useful he's been to the Crown."

"That isn't so," the queen said quietly.

"Then tell me plainly," Viserra demanded, "that Father didn't do what he did because he dislikes the Velaryons, and because my sons suddenly hatched dragons of their own, threatening the exclusivity House Targaryen holds so dear in his eyes."

"I understand how upset you are, Viserra," Alysanne said after a brief pause, "but we all need to find some middle ground, for the sake of our families' future. Corlys's anger is understandable too," the queen added, "as is his giving up the office of Master of Ships. I do not fault him for that decision in the least."

"That's very reassuring, Mother," Viserra said, though there was not much warmth in her voice.

"Once tempers have cooled a little," the queen went on, paying no mind to her daughter's biting tone, "I will see to it once more that Corlys is given a seat on the Small Council. And then he'll be able to guide Daemon, just as was originally planned, once the boy is old enough to be sent to the capital for his upbringing."

At this, Lady Alice only shook her head.

"I think you may have misunderstood something, Your Grace," she said, calm but firm. "The Velaryons no longer intend to send Daemon to be fostered in another house. We believe that here, at High Tide, my grandsons and granddaughters will receive a far better upbringing and far greater opportunities than in any other house in Westeros."

The queen and Rhaenys exchanged a glance, each finding confirmation of what they had feared from the very start of the visit - the Velaryons now regarded the Targaryens with hostility, and plainly had no intention of sending Daemon to them on the old terms.

"But the king and Corlys already agreed to this, some time ago," the queen said, in a coaxing tone.

"Corlys has reconsidered that agreement," Lady Alice answered, "and has decided against sending his heir to another house, however respected that house may be."

"We are not strangers," the queen objected. "Daemon is our own grandson, and he would be perfectly safe in the capital."

"As what?" Viserra asked sharply. "An honored hostage, to keep his father's conduct in check?"

The queen looked at her daughter with genuine sorrow.

"Do you truly think so poorly of your own family," she asked, "as to believe we would use our own grandson as a hostage?"

"After that dinner, and the hatred Father showed so openly toward the Velaryons," Viserra answered, "I no longer know what to think. And I'm no longer certain my son would be safe anywhere near him."

"I would never allow any harm to come to your son," Rhaenys said firmly.

"I've never doubted you, Rhaenys," Viserra answered, a little more gently. "But I can no longer say the same of my own father."

The queen made to object, but Rhaenys gently stopped her grandmother, laying a hand on her shoulder.

"I think we should rest a while after such a long flight, and freshen up," she said, in a conciliatory tone. "There will be time enough later to discuss all this properly, without so much feeling running high."

The queen nodded gratefully to her granddaughter, conceding that the conversation had truly reached an impasse better left for now than pressed further, stoking tempers already running hot enough. Lady Alice rose from the table, called for a servant, and gave orders to prepare chambers for their guests to rest in.

"We'll place you in the south wing of the castle," she said, addressing the queen and Rhaenys. "There's a fine view of the sea from there, and no one will disturb you at such a late hour."

"Thank you for your hospitality," the queen answered, rising in turn. "Despite everything, and our disagreements."

Viserra said nothing, unable to find it in herself to answer the thanks, only giving a short nod as she watched the guests follow the servant off toward their chambers. Once their footsteps had faded down the corridor, she turned to Lady Alice.

"Do you think any good will come of this visit at all?" she asked, weariness in her voice.

"I don't know, child," Lady Alice answered honestly. "But at least they tried, and that's already more than anyone could have expected from the king himself."

"I hope Corlys won't be too angry, finding out we received them while he was away," Viserra said quietly.

"Your husband is sensible enough to know the difference between the king who insulted him at that feast, and the women here, who had no part in it," Lady Alice answered. "Besides, refusing the queen hospitality would have been as good as declaring war on the spot, and I don't believe either you or Corlys is quite ready for that yet."

"Not ready to declare war just yet," Viserra echoed quietly, "but given how little hurry Corlys is in to come home, and how he still keeps the true reason for his absence a secret from the whole world, that readiness may come sooner than any of us would like."

A week later, Corlys and Daeron stood on the deck of the Sea Snake, now sailing back toward Westeros, where no less dangerous a campaign awaited the brothers - one that would decide the fate of their entire House for decades to come.

"Veylor wrote to tell me the queen and Rhaenys came to High Tide, and are trying to patch things up between our families," Corlys said, looking out at the darkening horizon.

"I doubt there's much that could stop things now," Daeron answered, "not after we've already taken three cities in Slaver's Bay. We've gone too far to turn back now."

"There truly is no road back," Corlys agreed. "All that's left to us is to see this through to the very end, whatever that end turns out to be."

Daeron laid a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Together," he said, short but firm.

Corlys covered his brother's hand with his own and answered with the same unshakable certainty.

"As always, together. Even if it means standing against the whole world."

Daeron nodded, in full agreement with his brother, and the two of them fell silent once more, watching the ship cut through the waves, carrying them ever closer to home, and to the war for the Stepstones still to come.

They had won everything they had set out to win from Slaver's Bay, and now stood ready to defy the king himself.