Two Weeks After Astapor - The Road to Yunkai
The army moved slowly, deliberately. Five thousand soldiers, plus two thousand former Unsullied who had chosen to join them. Seven thousand trained warriors, and three dragons that grew larger every day.
But it was what they found on the road that stopped everything.
"Sir," one of the scouts reported to Garrett, his face pale. "You need to see this. Now."
Marcos and Daenerys rode forward with Garrett.
What they saw made Marcos's blood run cold.
Bodies. Crucified. Lining the road.
Not enemy soldiers. Not slavers. Not combatants.
These were traders. Merchants. Diplomats. People who had traveled to Meereen for business before the war started.
Citizens of Astoria.
Every mile marker had one. Men, women, some barely more than teenagers. They'd been dead for days, left to rot in the sun as a message.
A warning.
"163," Garrett said quietly, his voice shaking with rage. "We've counted 163 so far."
Daenerys dismounted from Syrax and walked to the nearest body. A young woman, maybe twenty. A merchant's daughter, judging by her clothes.
"They did this to send us a message," Daenerys said, her voice eerily calm. "To show us they're not afraid."
"They should be," Marcos said. His hands were trembling. Not from fear. From fury so intense it was taking every ounce of self-control not to fly straight to Meereen and burn it to ash. "They should be fucking terrified."
"Marcos..." Garrett started.
"They murdered our people, Garrett. Innocent people. Not soldiers. Not warriors. Merchants. Diplomats. People who trusted us to keep them safe." Marcos's eyes were glowing red—the Anos power leaking through his rage. "And we failed them."
"We didn't know—" Daenerys began.
"WE SHOULD HAVE!" Marcos's shout echoed across the plains. "We should have anticipated this! Should have warned them! Should have—"
He stopped, breathing hard, forcing himself to calm down.
"Get them down," he said quietly. "All of them. Give them proper burials. Full honors. They're heroes now—martyrs who died because evil men wanted to send a message."
"And what message do we send back?" Garrett asked.
Marcos looked toward Meereen, visible in the distance.
"Fire and blood," he said. "We show them what happens when you murder our people."
That Evening - War Council
The mood was dark. Everyone had seen the bodies. Everyone was angry.
But Marcos knew that anger alone was dangerous.
"Meereen did this to provoke us," he said, pointing at the map. "They want us to attack in rage. To be sloppy. To make mistakes."
"Then what do we do?" Mero demanded. "Let it go unpunished?"
"No. We punish them. Severely." Marcos's smile was cold. "But we do it intelligently. First, we take Yunkai. We do it fast, we do it clean, and we do it as a demonstration of what's coming for Meereen."
"Yunkai hired mercenaries," Garrett reported. "The Second Sons and the Stormcrows. Maybe three thousand total, plus their own forces. Call it five thousand defenders."
"Mercenaries fight for gold, not loyalty," Daenerys observed. "We can use that."
"Exactly." Marcos pulled out documents. "We've already made contact with their commanders. The Second Sons are led by a captain named Mero—"
"Wait, another Mero?" Their own Mero laughed. "Is it a common name or what?"
"Apparently. Different guy, though. This one's reportedly an asshole." Marcos continued. "The Stormcrows are led by Prendahl na Ghezn and Daario Naharis. We're offering them a choice: switch sides and get paid triple what Yunkai offered, or face dragons."
"They'll switch," Mero predicted confidently. "Mercenaries always do when the odds are bad enough."
"And if they don't?"
"Then they burn." Daenerys's voice was flat. "I'm done with mercy for people who enable slavers."
Everyone looked at her. This was a different Daenerys than the one who'd arrived at Astoria. Harder. Colder. More willing to do what was necessary.
Marcos wondered if that was his fault. If he'd changed her too much.
Then he remembered the crucified bodies and decided he didn't care.
The Approach to Yunkai
The mercenary commanders met them under flag of truce.
Mero the Titan's Bastard was exactly as advertised: arrogant, crude, and clearly underestimating them.
"So you're the dragon queen," he said, leering at Daenerys. "I expected someone more impressive."
Syrax, standing behind Daenerys, growled. The sound was like thunder.
Mero paled slightly but held his ground.
"I'm not a queen," Daenerys corrected. "I'm a liberator. And you have a choice to make."
"The Yunkai'i are paying us very well," Prendahl said. He was smarter than Mero, more cautious.
"We'll pay triple," Marcos stated. "Plus, you won't have to fight dragons. That's a significant benefit."
"How do we know you can pay?" Mero demanded.
Marcos opened a chest they'd brought. Gold bricks—literally bricks made of gold, courtesy of Minecraft—glinted in the sun.
"Down payment," Marcos said. "The rest when Yunkai surrenders."
"And if we refuse?" Prendahl asked.
"Then you die," Daenerys said simply. "We'll give you one day to decide. Discuss it with your men. See if they want to die for Yunkai's gold or live for ours."
The third commander, Daario Naharis, hadn't spoken yet. He was younger than the others, handsome in a roguish way, with a gold tooth and colorful attitude.
Now he smiled. "I like her. She's direct."
"Daario, shut up," Prendahl snapped.
"Just saying." Daario shrugged. "We're mercenaries. We fight for whoever pays best. These people pay better and have dragons. Seems like simple math."
"One day," Marcos repeated. "Choose wisely."
That Night - The Stormcrows' Camp
Daario Naharis had made his decision.
He walked into the command tent where Prendahl and another captain were discussing strategy.
"We should switch sides," Daario said bluntly.
"Are you insane?" Prendahl hissed. "The Yunkai'i will—"
"The Yunkai'i are doomed," Daario interrupted. "You saw those dragons. You saw their army. Astapor fell in a day. Yunkai will fall even faster."
"We have a contract—"
"Contracts don't mean shit when you're dead." Daario drew his sword. "I'm switching sides. You can join me, or I can make the decision easier for the company."
What happened next was brief and bloody.
When morning came, Daario Naharis walked into Marcos's camp carrying two heads.
"Prendahl and Sallor," he announced, dropping them on the ground. "The Stormcrows are yours. Two thousand men, ready to fight for the winning side."
Marcos looked at the heads, then at Daario.
"That was efficient."
"I'm a practical man." Daario grinned. "Also, your princess is terrifying and I'd like to stay on her good side."
"She's not my princess—" Marcos started.
"Sure she's not." Daario's grin widened. "The Second Sons also switched sides, by the way. Mero the Titan's Bastard was voted out by his own men. Apparently, they prefer gold to suicide."
"So Yunkai has no mercenaries?"
"Yunkai has no defense," Daario corrected. "Just slaves with spears and masters with delusions."
"Good." Marcos turned to Garrett. "Signal the advance. We take Yunkai today."
The Fall of Yunkai
It wasn't a battle. It was a surrender.
When the dragons appeared over Yunkai, when the massive army approached with mercenaries who'd switched sides, when the slaves inside heard that liberation had come...
The Wise Masters capitulated immediately.
No fire. No blood. Just opened gates and white flags.
The Yellow Emperor himself came out to negotiate.
"We surrender," he said simply. "Spare the city. Spare us. We'll give you whatever you want."
"Free the slaves," Marcos demanded. "All of them. Immediately."
"Done."
"Open your treasury. Every master contributes 90% of their wealth to reparations for the freed slaves."
The Yellow Emperor winced but nodded. "Acceptable."
"And you—all the masters—leave. Permanent exile. You can keep enough to live comfortably, but you never return to Slaver's Bay."
"Where would we go?"
"Anywhere but here," Daenerys said coldly. "Be grateful we're letting you live."
The Yellow Emperor looked at her, then at the dragons, and made the wise choice.
"We accept."
By sunset, 120,000 more slaves were free.
Two cities liberated. One to go.
But everyone knew Meereen would be different.
Meereen had murdered their people.
Meereen would pay in fire.
That Night - Marcos and Daenerys
They stood on the walls of Yunkai, looking toward Meereen.
"The masters there won't surrender," Daenerys said.
"I know."
"They'll fight. Civilians will die."
"I know that too."
"Are you prepared for that?" Daenerys looked at him. "To burn a city?"
Marcos was quiet for a long moment.
"They crucified 163 of our people, Dany. Merchants. Traders. Innocent civilians." His voice was hard. "I'm not going to burn the whole city. I'm not going to target civilians. But the masters? The ones who ordered those crucifixions? The ones who think terror is acceptable?"
"They burn," Daenerys finished.
"They burn," Marcos confirmed. "Every single one."
"That's 163 people we'll kill. One for each person they murdered."
"Exactly." Marcos looked at her. "Is that wrong?"
"I don't know," Daenerys admitted. "Part of me says yes—that we should be better than them. That mercy is strength."
"And the other part?"
"The other part remembers those bodies on the road and wants to burn Meereen to the ground." Daenerys's hands clenched. "I'm tired of being merciful to people who see mercy as weakness."
"Then we're in agreement." Marcos took her hand. "We offer the slaves freedom. We offer the soldiers clemency if they surrender. But the masters? The ones responsible? No mercy."
"No mercy," Daenerys agreed.
They stood in silence, watching the distant lights of Meereen.
In three days, they would march on the greatest of the slaver cities.
And when they did, the world would remember why you don't kill the innocent to send a message.
Because eventually, someone sends a message back.
Written in fire.
Meereen - The Great Masters' Council
"Yunkai has fallen without a fight," a master reported. "The mercenaries switched sides. The Wise Masters surrendered immediately."
"Cowards," the eldest master spat. "We will not bend. We are Meereen. The Great Pyramid has stood for a thousand years. It will stand a thousand more."
"They have dragons—" a younger master started.
"DRAGONS ARE BEASTS!" the elder roared. "We are men! We have walls! We have the greatest city in Slaver's Bay! We will not fall to a foreign whore and her pet lizards!"
The same words Kraznys had used.
Right before he burned.
But hubris is a powerful drug, and the Great Masters were addicted.
"Prepare the city for siege," the elder commanded. "Every slave to the walls. Every soldier armed. Every resource mobilized. When they come, we'll show them that Meereen does not bow."
"And if they still attack?"
"Then we take more of their people and crucify them in the plaza. Show them that every attack costs innocent lives. Make them think twice."
It was, quite possibly, the worst strategy anyone had ever conceived.
But the Great Masters were beyond reason.
Beyond wisdom.
Beyond salvation.
They had chosen fire.
And fire they would get.
[END OF CHAPTER 24]