The sea wind howled like a wild beast, lashing against the hull as the merchant ship sliced through the grey waves. Dawn had not yet broken, but the sky was beginning to pale, a thin silver line forming where sea met horizon. Beneath the rhythmic beat of the oar master's drum, the groaning of heavy wooden oars, and the puffing sails straining against the wind, the smuggling vessel Mead Hall fled Myr's harbor with desperate urgency.
Inside the dimly lit cabin, the floor swaying under their feet, the men of the Wolf Pack Company gathered. Beneath the grey-white banner showing a snarling direwolf, every soldier knelt, raising their voices in unison:
"Winter is coming!
The lone wolf dies—
The Wolf Pack lives!"
Their chant shook the cramped cabin, their loyalty echoing through every plank of the ship. The men had followed their new leader through betrayal, bloodshed, and loss; now they swore their allegiance officially.
One after another, they bent the knee. The Handsome Man was the first, solemnly placing his longsword at Gendry's feet. Then came the Arrow Maker, Steel Fist, Longspear, and the rest of the mercenaries. Even those who had once doubted the blacksmith-turned-warrior now recognized his courage, strength, and unyielding spirit.
Gendry slipped on the Wolf Pack's black direwolf ring, its cold metal a reminder of the weight he now carried. He looked at his men—aged Maester Qyburn, Dick the Fletch, the crippled but loyal Handsome Man, the exhausted Steel Fist, and stubborn Longspear. They were battered, wounded, and far too few, yet they were everything he had in this unforgiving world. This broken pack was his beginning.
"Rise, brothers," Gendry said softly but commandingly. "Stand with me."
The men rose as one.
The Handsome Man stepped forward, his missing arm wrapped tightly beneath layers of cloth. "Commander," he said, voice steady despite his injury, "I can no longer fight on the front lines. I volunteer to be your attendant. Let me serve in ways my body still allows."
Gendry considered him for a moment. Loyalty like this was rare. "You remain treasurer," he decided. "And be my attendant as well. As for the rest—Steel Fist will stay as Knight-Captain, Longspear leads the infantry, the Arrow Maker continues as Instructor, and Maester Qyburn remains our healer."
In a world drowning in chaos, stability mattered more than anything.
"Agreed," the men echoed.
Gendry raised his fist. "Then hear me. We must strengthen ourselves. Governor Joey thinks he can break us, but the Wolf Pack does not forget. We will strike back."
"Let him regret crossing us!" Longspear snarled.
The Handsome Man cleared his throat. "The old Wolf's Den is no good now. It's too close to Myr. Without protection, the Governor will crush us."
"Then we take Firegrass Manor," Gendry said firmly. "It belonged to Governor Kasu. By now Myr has seized it or auctioned it off. Either way, it's vulnerable—and we will claim it."
The room buzzed with excitement.
"It's further from Myr," Steel Fist nodded. "And close to the coastline. If any place can be reshaped into our den, it's that one."
"We also need manpower," the Arrow Maker added. "We've always been cautious of the Myrmen, but now? No reason to be. Let's free the manor slaves, arm them, and let Myr feel what rebellion truly looks like."
At that, Gendry's eyes hardened with conviction. "Slavery is a chain choking the East. We can't break all of Essos—but we can set the Disputed Lands ablaze."
The men roared in agreement.
"Smash the slavers!"
"Free the chains!"
"The old gods and the new despise slavery!" Steel Fist shouted, and the others joined him, voices shaking the cabin.
Gendry continued, "Governor Joey has several Firegrass Manors. They are his coffers. We take them, burn them if we must, and liberate his slaves. Every blow we strike will cost Myr silver—and blood."
The company agreed eagerly, spirits rising at the thought of vengeance.
The door suddenly creaked open.
Salladhor Saan, the Old Pirate of Lys, stepped in, clapping dramatically. Gendry immediately pulled up the mask that hid his true features.
"Young hero!" Salladhor called cheerfully. "Braving the high seas with your ragged band—truly inspiring! I did not expect another rising star to appear before my old eyes."
He bowed with exaggerated showmanship. "Greetings, Commander of the Wolf Pack Company. The new head wolf."
The Handsome Man snorted. "Old pirate, you didn't come here just to flatter our Commander."
"No, no," Salladhor chuckled. "I came to discuss cooperation!"
He stroked his beard proudly. "I have long wanted a mercenary band of brave, loyal, fearless souls. The Golden Company is too expensive, the Unsullied too stiff. But Northerners? Ah, Northerners are perfect! Tough as winter stones and twice as stubborn."
"How do you propose we cooperate?" Gendry asked calmly.
"Oh, simple!" Salladhor spread his arms. "I have ships. Secret routes. Information from Braavos to Qarth. What you have are warriors. Together, we can do much."
Longspear frowned. "Would working with a pirate make us pirates?"
Salladhor laughed so loudly his belly shook. "For three centuries, the Saan family has been piracy royalty! One of the old Ninepenny Kings, Samarro Saan, was my ancestor. Pirates and mercenaries are brothers of mischief—helping each other, never bowing."
"You wouldn't be our master," Gendry clarified. "Only an ally."
"Exactly!" Salladhor beamed. "You need a home in the Disputed Lands. Firegrass Manor is a fine start. My fleet can guard your coastline. If the Myrmen come, you flee to Crown Town or the Stepstones. In return, you help old Salladhor with… small matters."
Gendry studied him carefully. Salladhor was cunning, slippery, and loyal only to profit. But for now, the Wolf Pack needed him.
"We accept," Gendry said. "But we strike only Myr's enemies."
Salladhor shrugged. "Oh, once you incite a slave revolt, everyone in Myr becomes your enemy."
He signaled for warm wine. "To cooperation! And may we avenge my dear old friend Greybeard soon!"
Glasses clinked.
"Another thing," Gendry said. "If the Three Daughters unite against us—Myr, Lys, and Tyrosh—will you help?"
Salladhor's smile faded. "Ah, no. I'm bold, not suicidal. My help must remain discreet. If the Wolf Pack falls, we never met."
Gendry chuckled. "You truly are a sly pirate."
The old man grinned. "Always."
His eyes gleamed. "Now! If you want a grand beginning, I have a suggestion. A Myrish Magister's ship is currently in Volantis. Belongs to Governor Rechar—the mastermind behind Governor Kasu's downfall. That ship carries jade, spices, and even Unsullied from Qarth—worth a kingdom."
He leaned forward, whispering,
"What do you say, Commander? Shall we strike the first blow… loudly?"
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)