Maegor XXIII:
1st Moon, 34AC
I was experiencing a myriad of emotions as I sat atop my dragon, just waiting for the gates of Pentos to open and allow my army entrance to the city. It was time for my second triumph, an honor unheard of in Pentos's relatively short history as an independent state. It would also likely be the last. Well, the last in Pentos's current state at least.
The first emotion I felt was concern, it was not super strong, given I had made extensive preparations for the coming purge, but it was still there. I was effectively walking into an assassination attempt after all.
My spies within the faction poised against me had long since informed me of Prince Nevio's foolish determination to see me killed and or my life destroyed. I had already taken one avenue of attack away from him when I had sent my pregnant wife and sons across the sea a year and a half ago. Which meant he was certainly planning something, which was revealed to me not long ago.
Imagine my surprise when Moredo Seltra came to me with a plot devised by the Prince of Pentos himself. The fool stationed hidden crossbowmen along the pathway I would walk on my triumph who were just waiting to shoot dozens of very sharp bolts directly my way.
It was not a horrendous plan if one only looked at the surface level, and took in his motivations. Prince Nevio had clearly given up all sense of self-preservation. It was clear he was going to die at some point, my support had only grown ever since my assassination attempt and the most recent count from Illyrio told me more than two-thirds of the Conclave now backed me. Which meant that Prince Nevio's fate was sealed.
However, the finer details made it very easy to stop. The foolish Prince had actually told his whole plan to Moredo Seltra and a few more of his "allies." He assumed that they would be dumb enough to throw their lives away like he was. In an age where none had anything even resembling a sense of nationalism. It was little wonder why every single one of his conspirators sent discrete messengers begging forgiveness.
They would not get it. Well, most would not get it. I would await the return of my wife and my mother's return to full strength before interrogating my opposition. Thankfully, my family had the ability to search a person's thoughts, which made it quite easy to sort the liars from those who genuinely had a change of heart.
I was not against the idea of bringing former enemies into my camp. An act of compassion and forgiveness could earn absolute loyalty and dedication from someone. I just had to make sure they were truly loyal and dedicated. I knew from my past memories that the Maegor in the book had been betrayed by someone. Whether it was his Kingsguard, a member of his small council, or one of his wives, I did not know and I did not care. I would not share his fate, and ensuring the loyalty of my allies with a quick check using a glass candle made sure that they harbored no traitorous thoughts.
Any truly loyal man would not refuse. I supposed the idea was that if they had nothing to hide then they had nothing to fear. Which I disliked as a principle but I could be a hypocrite on that front. My life and plans came above my personal beliefs.
The next emotion that was readily apparent in the maelstrom currently in my mind was anticipation. Finally purging Pentos of its filth and ending the war truly meant all sorts of doors would be opened to me. My plans for my burgeoning empire could begin to be implemented properly.
New infrastructure projects, particularly connecting Braavos to Norvos and Pentos. Along with cleaning up the little Rhoyne and Noyne Rivers, making them more navigable and easier for trade. Plus beginning to repopulate the countryside, my estates needed workers after all, and establishing towns in Old Andalos and the Flatlands would both boost Pentos's economy by clearing out the slums and boost Pentos's power. Currently, Pentos could actually enforce its will on only about a third of the territory it claimed.
Essos had been truly ravaged by war ever since the fall of Old Valyria. Sarnor and the Disputed Lands were the most clear example of this but practically everywhere but the Rhoyne River Delta and the Braavosi Hinterlands had suffered. Whether by passing sellsword companies, enemy armies, Dothraki raids, or even banditry. The countryside of Essos had been hollowed out.
I had been making a concerted effort to change this. Ever since I defeated Khal Temmo, relative peace and security had returned to Old Andalos. The Dothraki raids had ended and people began moving out into the small farming towns and villages that were abandoned due to war and neglect.
With the repopulation of the countryside, Pentoshi claims could be properly enforced and new, more ambitious ones could be made. There were bound to be future disputes with Pentos's neighbors. Volantis and Myr were the most likely, given that the Dothraki Khalasar based out of Ny Sar was not exactly willing to face me in battle after what had happened to their previous Khal of Khals.
Geopolitics could wait, however. The main emotion swirling in my mind was excitement. Excitement at the war finally being over and all that it meant for my family. The first order of business was obviously securing the city, to protect what was most dear to me. Once that was done, I could finally bring them home.
'Shiera ought to return to a proper home, not a burned-out husk,' I thought with a frown. I could order my manse restored but I could see little reason for it. After all, a new, much larger mansion was about to be freed up.
I smiled hesitantly as the doors to the city were finally opened. None saw my hesitant expression because of my black helm and soon a chorus of cheers and praise began to be lavished on me. Crowds of thousands packed the streets as I led my army down the wide streets of Pentos, toward the center of the great city.
Behind me was my army, both the Black Company and the Pentoshi mobilized for the war. I had looted a truly astronomical sum from the Iron Bank and scraped even more gold off the rubble of the House of Black and White. Ordinarily, I would have spread this gold around a bit, instead of just letting it trail behind my army in a line of carts miles long. However, there was so much gold now in my possession that spending it recklessly could crash the economy and that ran contrary to my goals.
As Terrax got moving, and walked on his wingtips down the great sunrise road of Pentos. I thought of the projects I had planned. First on the docket was of course the purge. Clearing out the scum of the city would allow it to become much more welcoming of reforms and new ideas. In particular, however, I could not help but wonder what to spend my gold on.
'I suppose my new printing press comes first,' I thought with a smile as I remembered the wonderful letter I had received on the march back here. I had kept my artisans working over the course of the war. All of them worked to make inventions I deemed would be useful. While I was about halfway through Old Andalos, I finally received the letter I had been waiting for. Harleo managed to create a printing press, even if it was no doubt rudimentary.
Regardless, a real bonafide Printing Press opened so many doors for me. The mass proliferation of books would have to be done quickly, accompanied by a literacy campaign. A literate society was a powerful one after all and at the very least everyone in Pentos should know how to write their own name and sound words out.
An ignorant population was easier to control but control was not exactly what I wanted or needed, on account of my dragons. I wanted advancement, and when ninety percent of the population was incapable of spelling their own name, it was all but impossible.
Sure I doubted I could turn every Pentoshi into a poet, but it was not necessary. Just being able to count and read rudimentary words and sound out bigger ones would allow much more of the population to be active in the economy, properly that is. It would help reduce scams and lies and empower a good portion of the Pentoshi population with the skills needed to become middle class. Which would be necessary now that I was going to start cutting down on the slaves in the city.
'I suppose a nice library could be a decent investment,' I thought as I eyed a stretch of slums in the distance. Ideally, I would be moving much of the poor out of the city and back onto the fields. They would both be able to better support themselves there but they would also no longer be a drain on Pentos. Depending on their skills and productivity they could even boost Pentos's tax revenue.
'Now where might a Dragonpit fit,' I pondered as I continued to survey the city atop Terrax. He was big enough that I could actually look over some of the shorter buildings while sitting on his back.
Truly wonderful news arrived from Dragonstone almost six moons ago. When Shiera had told my mother that Vermithor hatched in our daughter's cradle, I had almost jumped for joy. The bronze hatchling was not a solution to my long-term problem, given Vermithor was male and so was Terrax but it was an excellent start. Not to mention the second egg given to my family had a chance to solve my problems.
Apparently my father had seen fit to give eggs to all the children besides Daeron and Aegon. Given that Vhagar was already lined up for my son, I could only assume that Balerion was lined up for my eldest nephew. I did not know which eggs had hatched, given that I had been remarkably busy over the last six moons preparing for this triumph and the coming purge but I knew that my other nephew had been given a silver egg and my second son Baelon had been given a red egg, the same hue as blood.
I did not know if they had hatched yet but if my suspicions about my son's dragon egg were correct, then my long-term problems might remain unsolved. My family would have to continue to rely on Vhagar for possible eggs in the future. Even then, I supposed I did not need to worry about getting my family dragons as much because my niece Rhaena had already given my family one dragon and an egg that may very well hatch.
This did of course give me more work to do. I now had to construct a pit here to house my family's dragons. When it was just Terrax and Vhagar, I could leave the dragons to themselves for the most part. They hunted in the Narrow Sea for their food or were fed on the beach but I could not exactly let hatchling dragons remain in the open air. Not only were they often harder to control, given they had less training, but they also could be harmed.
Adult dragons were nigh impervious to any and all damage that could be inflicted upon them. Nothing less than a scorpion bolt to the eye could kill a dragon of Terrax's weight and size. However, smaller dragons like hatchlings had softer scales and were far more susceptible to potential attacks.
That would not do, and so I would need to coerce some Dragonkeepers into crossing the sea. I doubted it would be a hard sell. They were convinced to move to King's Landing after all and there were now two, soon to be three dragons to tend to here.
'Hopefully four,' I thought as I wondered about the blood-red egg that was given to my son. I did not know the parentage of the dragon I figured the egg was housing, but the coloration matched. I would need to begin the construction of the pit as early as possible if I really do have two hatchlings coming back to Pentos.
My daydreaming ended when the city center finally came into view. The same platform I remembered from my first triumph was raised, with Prince Nevio himself standing atop it. He was still quite far from me so I strained my eyes to see his face.
The details were small but I could almost see him swaying. No doubt shocked I had made it this far. Little did he know that his co-conspirators had long since ratted him out and I had those crossbowmen killed long before I even got to the walls of the city.
As I got nearer, I noticed the pale color of his face. 'Perfect,' I thought with a smile. I wanted him to know his plans had all gone awry. The bastard wanted to hurt my family, and I would tear him down for even having the thought. His mere death would not suffice, I wanted him humiliated and destroyed.
Granted, the husk of a man before me was no longer the person I once considered a friend. The death of his bitch daughter had driven him mad. Which I supposed I could sympathize with if he did not wish to kill my family. So I did not particularly care about him anymore, and I would not mourn his death when I ran him through with Dark Sister.
Terrax pulled right up to the grand stage before stopping and lowering a wing. Allowing me to free myself from the saddle and climb down the ropes hanging from his side. The crowd quieted as I ascended the steps to the top of the platform, not noticing as I sent a discrete hand signal Aeron's way. Neither did they notice several of my soldiers fan out across the crowds, all standing near to people of importance. The whole time I wondered if Prince Nevio would actually honor me, or if he would publicly doom himself and his family.
As I finally reached the top. I noticed the look of spiteful hatred replacing the previous petrified look he sported. He grit his teeth before speaking, "People of Pentos! Braavos, our hated bastard sister, sought to kill our esteemed gu- Magister! They failed and now he has returned triumphant!" he began and the crowd went wild in response. Only to be quieted by the soldiers around the city center.
I noticed Prince Nevio shift again, clearly moving his sleeves around and I placed a hand on the hilt of my blade. I was wearing armor but I knew what he was about to try and do. I just needed him to actually try it so that I could end the fool with no consequences.
"Our devious Bastard Sister failed to kill Prince Maegor Targaryen! Their Faceless Men were no match for his cunning and might!" he said as he grew closer to me, the look in his eyes betraying the praise he was lavishing me with.
"He has brought Braavos to heel, conquered it as a dragonlord of old!" he said as he reached into his sleeve. The crowd dying down from their cheer and becoming quiet with no doubt a confused expression on many of their faces. After all, it was Pentos, who conquered Braavos, not me, well officially that was true at least.
"Now he has designs on our own city,!" he roared at the crowd practically frothing at the mouth, only to be met with more silence. Perhaps he was expecting something else but the crazed look in his eye did him no favors. I dearly wished to momentarily move my eyes off him and smirk at my mother atop Vhagar a ways away but I was not so foolish as to turn my attention away from an armed, and desperate adversary.
"He wishes to establish a new Valyria! One where he and he alone stands at the top!" he continued to yell, his bellowing voice spreading across the crowd that was now murmuring.
"I will not allow it!" he said in a flash, as he spun around and drew his dagger. It was a fine one, not quite Valyrian Steel but very well forged, not that it mattered of course.
My guards did not even get a chance to react, and neither did the Prince or his guards as Dark Sister left its sheath on my side faster than anyone could see. I swung my Valyrian Steel sword with my full might, and the speed at which it flew through the air beggared belief. In mere fractions of a moment, Prince Nevio was no more. His head split in two diagonally by my razor-sharp blade, his brains and blood spilling out onto the floor of the platform.
A sudden gasp rolled out through the crowd and Prince Nevio's guards moved to react but my own stood in their way. A tense standoff ensued, accompanied by an ever-loudening crowd before I signaled to my mother and to my dragon. Soon enough the roar of two dragons silenced any loudmouths.
I scanned the crowd, ensuring that the nobles and magisters I needed to be detained had some of my soldiers, disguised or not, nearby before I began to speak.
"People of Pentos!" I yelled after I removed my helmet, revealing my face. The crowd quickly quieted and all eyes were on me in no time at all.
"Prince Nevio Iranhor was a traitor to Pentos!" I said first, planting the idea before I levied my accusations.
"He conspired not only against me and my family. Plotting to kill my infant sons and daughter! But he plotted against you as well!" I spoke loudly and clearly, and the crowd was quickly swept along by my soldiers dispersed through the crowd who had already been told how to respond to my speech.
"He sought to undermine our righteous war against the Braavosi! Sending saboteurs into the army! Working with Braavosi spies!" I levied the accusation and the crowd continued to be whipped up into a fervor.
"Then he wanted to kill me! He has rotted this wonderful city and his accusations are false. For I do not seek a new Valyria, but a Pentos ascendant! Free from its woes and enemies. Is that so wrong?" I yelled into the crowd and was met with a series of cheers and no's.
"I ask that you all join me! Join me in making Pentos greater than it ever was! Join me in sharing the spoils of prosperity! Join me in victory!" I roared and the crowd roared with me. Fully swept along by the bravado.
This whole charade was of course cover for the true happenings within the crowd and within the more exclusive area separated from the unwashed masses. My soldiers were systematically taking all those who were poised against me in the conclave into custody. My theatrics were simply to get the crowd onside and cover up the effective abduction of one-third of Pentos's ruling class.
I continued to play up the crowd, doling out small amounts of gold and announcing new policies, programs, and festivals. All the while more and more magisters and nobles were stolen away, gagged, and dragged into back alleyways and buildings.
My proper ascension to power would come later, but for now, it was time for a purge.
…
Standing on the great docks of Pentos. I impatiently tapped my foot on the stone as I waited for the ship I was anticipating to appear over the horizon. My family left Dragonstone with a royal escort of Velaryon ships a sennight ago and were due to arrive very soon.
The original plan, when I had first sent my family away was for my mother to return and pick them up, but that was no longer possible. Sure Vhagar could carry my family on Dragonstone and my mother. Even if it would be quite the squeeze to fit two adults and three young children in a single saddle, the birth of Vermithor complicated matters.
The hatchling dragon was far too young to fly from Dragonstone to Pentos. I doubted even Dreamfyre could make the flight at her age and size. So my father had elected to send them back on a ship, with a five and thirty ship escort from House Velaryon.
'Another debt that must be repaid,' I thought with a frown. I was loath to owe Aethan Velaryon anything but I supposed I could cook up some exemptions for his family. Reduced tariffs, and trade agreements, doling out some of my artisans' inventions. House Velaryon was a trading family, after all, they could surely be bought.
Not only was I now monstrously wealthy but I was also the de facto king of Pentos. Even if all the reforms I had planned were not yet passed, my position as Prince of Pentos was already powerful. All decrees and laws ran through me, I personally stamped every law that went through the conclave and I had already moved into Nevio's old palace. It was only a matter of time until I got some sort of symbol to represent my complete dominance of Pentos.
Prince Nevio's old manse was a start but it was distinctly not portable and had issues. The sizeable estate in the center of the city was not exactly what me or Shiera wanted. Given the noise and smell of the city would undoubtedly irritate our ears and noses daily.
I needed a proper symbol to represent my newfound position. I had debated a crown with my mother and allies but hesitantly decided against it. Crowning myself right after conducting a purge was probably not the best way to assuage people's fears over Nevio's claims. We ultimately decided on a Valyrian Steel Sceptre for my usage for now, with the option for a crown and sword coming later after the people had warmed to my rule more.
I had acquired a decent bit of Valyrian Steel from the Iron Bank. It was not an enormous amount. I certainly could not make a suit of armor out of it, honestly, I doubted I could even make a large sword out of what I acquired, but there was enough to reforge with the help of a Dragonstone Blacksmith who sought out my patronage. The scepter he forged for me meanwhile would be both symbolic enough for my rule over Pentos and was not a slap in the face of my brother who just helped me dearly.
I could not, and would not kneel to him any longer, but I would need to figure out some sort of working relationship between our two states. His letter toward me had if not assuaged, at least lessened many of my fears regarding my elder brother. He clearly wished to uphold some sort of familial ties. Whether or not that involved my regaining of Dragonstone was yet to be determined.
I wondered what it was like for Shiera, getting to live in the home that ought to have been ours. If I had been afforded my ideal life, I would have been punished with some sort of house arrest on Dragonstone, getting to keep my island and be able to raise my children there. Now that was impossible, however. We lived in Pentos now and Shiera was returning from the delightful and calm Dragonstone to the hustle and bustle of the city.
Thankfully, we were no longer limited to just one palace. Not only did I still have my villa out in the Velvet Hills, now made habitable by the arrival of spring, but I was quickly becoming the largest single landholder since the days of Old Valyria.
Military tribunals had been going on for a full sennight now. The laws and courts of Pentos were helplessly corrupt and governed by the people I had purged, so I had basically done away with them. New courts would be established and staffed with competent loyalists once some of my reforms began being passed. For now, however, the trial of traitors and "traitors" would be done through military means.
Banishment was the most common sentencing. For crimes entirely made up or real, dozens of magisters and nobles were stripped of their lands, wealth, titles, and dignity. Their families were disgraced, their daughters married off, their honor tarnished. Some of the worst offenders were even killed, even if I tried to avoid handing out that fate so readily. Everyone who stood against me would be punished.
The trial of those who switched to my side after my assassination attempt was put on hold. Not until Shiera returned and began interrogating them would I make my decisions on their fate. I had to be certain of their change of heart after all. I had already dealt with assassination attempts twice in my life, I had no desire to do so again.
'Should I make something of a Kingsguard?' I wondered as my eyes continued to scan the horizon. A Kingsguard-like royal guard would make me sleep a lot better. My current guards were certainly loyal but imperfect. The attempt on my life was a clear example of it. No serious attempts had been made on my father or family back in Westeros since their creation. So I had been thinking of how to make it work.
Obviously, I could not simply carry the same system over. Not only did Pentos not have nearly enough knights, even if the success and love of my sellsword company was popularizing it within Old Andalos, but the system my mother created was imperfect.
The Seven Kingsguards were woefully insufficient to guard the royal family, even with the royal guard serving under them. I trusted the Kingsguard well enough to guard my family from anything deeply dangerous but there were too few of them and their underlings needed reform as well.
They were simply too few in number, especially with its recent expansion. If they just had to guard the king seven could do, especially with a large contingent of the regular royal guards. However, they guarded the royal family as it was and instead of four royals, the Kingsguard in Westeros had more royals to protect than members to protect them for the first time, at least before my family left.
Such a system would not work here. Even if I could probably afford to lessen my security detail now that the Faceless Men were well and truly extinct, I would not do so. My carefree attitude and poor planning had almost cost me my family twice now and I would not allow it to happen again.
Picking loyalists, confirmed by my wife or mother, would be very easy, as would finding leadership. The Black Company would be the first place to pull from, them and my current royal guards. Not to mention the huge number of slaves I was going to free.
The families being dispossessed of their positions also gave up their slaves. They were technically property after all and after they were transferred to the state, I would have them freed. What to do with them after would be a question for later, thankfully there was plenty of land and small towns that would not be upset at getting an infusion of motivated workers.
Regardless, I needed a proper royal guard here in Pentos. My family was still growing and I needed more protection for them. I planned on retaining a more standard royal guard, which would be screened but perhaps not as thoroughly as I planned for the true elite guards.
I liked what my mother did with placing the security detail of the royal family in the hands of the Lord Commander. Not only would it free up the workload for me, but it would also give the guards more to do. Boredom was a killer after all and delegating out tasks both kept my helpers busy and freed up time for me to spend with my family.
My time away from them had made it clear that I was spending far too much time neck-deep in politics. I decided many moons ago that I would change that. With my political dominance over Pentos absolute, I could afford to shirk off some of my more mundane tasks.
I of course would not stop working entirely, I was not such a fool as to cede all of my power onto others, but I would happily shirk off wrangling the conclave onto Illyrio and Gessio. Aeron could manage the army and the reforms I had planned. Finally, I could place my trust in Rego to handle much of the new monetary burden of Pentos.
Now that the path had been cleared for me. I could see so many possibilities swirling in my head. Until now I had always been busy with some other more immediate concern. Like a war to fight or a political crisis to deal with. For the first time, I had finally achieved the peace and security needed to start with my reforms.
My dwelling on that topic ended abruptly when I finally saw the teal and black banners of distinctly Westeorsi ships appear over the horizon. 'They're finally here,' I thought with delight as I stopped tapping my foot.
My family spent a little more than a year on Dragonstone. I had them sent away in the tenth moon of 32 AC and now it was the end of the first moon of 34 AC. They spent less time than I thought they would have had to on Dragonstone but more time than I hoped they would have had to.
My fight with the Faceless Men had been agonizing precisely because I had no idea how long it would take to exterminate them. Leaving even one alive was absolutely unacceptable after what they had attempted for the second time. Not only myself and my mother, but even Shiera too all quietly understood that it could take years. Yet I was blessed with good fortune and my wife and children were only taken from me a little more than a year.
'Hopefully, that will be the longest we are separated,' I hoped vainly. I knew deep down that war would eventually call my name again, but it was all the more reason to treasure the time I had with them now. I would not let a second of it go to waste.
My mother to my right finally spoke up, with her previously being completely silent like myself. "There they are," she said with what I could tell was a good sort of impatience.
My mother had it perhaps even worse than myself. I am certain that when she moved here she was expecting to be able to spend practically all day with her grandchildren. Being denied that and suddenly thrust into a life-or-death war, even if it was a relatively short one. was no doubt upsetting for her.
She put up a strong front, however. Her efforts could not be overstated, what with her having killed the vast majority of the Faceless Men. I thought about how to repay her earlier but I ended up with the conclusion there was no real way I could. Not that she would accept anything I offered to her either of course. The only thing I imagined she even really wanted in her life right now was more time with her grandchildren.
"Yes," I offered simply. Neither of us wanted a true conversation right now. All we wanted was to see Shiera step off that boat with my children in tow. We had fought hard and long for that sight. My mother tortured and killed for it and I torched a fifth of Braavos for it. Yet in both of our eyes, it was a miniscule price to pay.
Not another word was shared as the boat neared closer and closer to the docks. There were crowds nearby us but I deliberately tasked my soldiers with providing a more private atmosphere for our arrival. The dock was mostly closed down, with ships left for the time being or moved to other docks. Meanwhile, the streets were made clear with soldiers pushing people into homes, apartments, or onto other streets.
As the clearly marked royal barge arrived, I was practically giddy as my eyes scanned the surface of the ship, just waiting to spot a head of snow-white hair. It did not take particularly long for the sight I had been dreaming of to arrive.
I spotted the distinctive, lovely shade of pure white that adorned my wife's hair and I could not help the smile that appeared on my face. Her red eyes soon met mine and we could not help but stare until the ship was finally moored to the docks and Shiera ran off the ship.
I met her halfway, both of us colliding into a ferocious hug. I lifted Shiera clear off the ground and spun her around once or twice while she squeezed me with all of her meager might. Meanwhile, my mother moved past us with a very obvious quickness in her step. She soon boarded the ship and disappeared into the cabin. Meanwhile, I remained on the dock, embracing my wife whom I had missed so dearly.
I thought of what to say then. "Welcome home," did not feel right. Pentos was quickly developing into a home for us but I still longed for Dragonstone. Now that Shiera had gotten a proper taste of life there, I imagined she did too. "I missed you" also felt off because no doubt we missed each other.
Eventually, I settled on, "I love you," with my face pressed into the top of her head. She was much too short for me to actually stand with her face-to-face.
She mumbled, "I love you more," back into my chest and all I could do was chuckle. I felt horrible about sending her away, as I could see the damage it caused her. However, I would make up for it now. There were no more looming threats, nothing that could separate us for more than a few days, given the speed of my dragon.
Shiera suddenly seemed to snap back to life and pulled away from my embrace. Confused, I raised an eyebrow at her before she took my large hand in her own.
"Don't you want to come and meet your daughter?" Shiera said with a smile, tears of joy brimming in the corners of her eyes and I felt like I could punch myself. I missed the birth of my first daughter and I had not even seen her yet.
Shiera did not need to pull me as we both made our way back to the cabin of the ship with haste. The guards and sailors on board all showed me due reverence but I ignored them as both Shiera and I approached the cabin with an even greater speed than my mother could manage.
Entering the cabin, the opulence and treasures on display within were irrelevant as my eyes quickly found Daeron. He was sitting on the ground messing with some sort of toy dragon. It was painted so I could not quite tell the material but at a glance, it looked wood. Either way, he was much too big from what I remembered and I could not help but hate the Faceless Men even more, as they had deprived me of my children for more than a year.
The next soul my eyes found was Baelon. Who was sitting on the ground near Daeron. The blood-red dragon egg I heard about nestled in his arms. 'So it did not hatch,' I thought before casting the thought away. I could think about dragons, politics, and the future later.
Then and lastly, I found my mother sitting in a chair, cradling a tightly wrapped babe in her arms. The location of Vermithor was a mystery to me, likely in the cargo of the ship but it similarly did not matter. As I neared the two, it was my wife who was the first to speak.
"Visenya and Visenya," Shiera chuckled and I could not help but laugh too as my mother gave Shiera a look filled with a myriad of emotions. Incredulity, shock, excitement, and gratitude. It was a positively foreign look on her face but Shiera's laughter mixed with my own at least brought a smile to her face.
I gingerly plucked my daughter from my mother's hands and lifted her closer to my face. So that I could get a better look at her. No words needed to be said in the cabin. As the atmosphere was more than sufficient. What was in that cabin was exactly what I had fought for, what I brought Northwestern Essos to its knees for. My family was with me again, at long last.
Norys Nogarys
1st Moon, 34AC
The muggy air of the grand balcony he was situated on was an unpleasant reminder for Norys Nogarys, Triarch of Volantis, that Spring had finally arrived. Unlike in the northern reaches of Essos and Westeros, winter did not bring death and cold in Volantis. Instead, winter years were when the city was the most pleasant.
Situated on the mighty River Rhoyne, his beloved Volantis was never beset by snow. The winter years brought rain, much like in their younger sister city of Lys but it was never cold in Volantis. Instead, the temperature shifted between horribly hot and quite pleasant.
Right now he was experiencing what was likely going to be the last year of the pleasant, mild heat of winter and spring. 'Perhaps I should acquire some new fan wavers,' he thought while idly sipping on his tea.
Slaves were abundant in Volantis so all Norys would have to do was speak with a cousin or slave of his. Send a liaison down to the dirty slave markets and pick up some slaves to wave fans for him. It was not a lifetime role so typically Norys liked to reassign his slaves in the winter years. He could just not be bothered to go and find the former fan wavers.
Ever since the Dothraki annihilated once proud Sarnor, the price of slaves across Essos had collapsed. Even with the downturn in the supply from Tyroshi slave traders from the west, the eastern slave trade had expanded so rapidly that a slave now cost a third of what one cost three decades ago.
'Perhaps I should capitalize,' he thought momentarily. Some recent developments meant that the price would soon rise again. His fellow Old Blood were happy to simply enjoy the fruits of cheap slaves but he knew it could be fortuitous to buy lots now when they were cheap and sell them at a much higher rate later.
'Look at me, practically an Elephant,' Norys thought with a chuckle as the slave girl in front of him poured more tea. As a Tiger, he should hold nothing but contempt for the greedy adversaries of his esteemed party. However, instead, all he felt was pity, the Elephants had briefly gained control of the government of Volantis following the disastrous defeat of their army outside of Myr and their fleet off the coast of Lys. They did nothing with their rule but cower, however, and had been voted out with the arrival of the Dothraki to the Rhoyne Valley.
"Something funny?" his old friend Syrano Endoryen said to his left and Norys waved it away.
"No, just thinking about the petulance of our new Elephant peer," Norys said with a smile and Syrano returned one. The Elephants were largely laughed at in Volantis. Sure they suffered a minor setback in the war to reclaim their birthright but what of it? Volantis remained the strongest Free City by a wide margin. Even after that irritating Targaryen arrived from his damp island.
Braavos may have been rich enough to contend with mighty Volantis but there was a reason all of her younger sisters had to work together to resist the might of his beloved city.
Volon Therys, Valysar, and Selhorys were all cities founded by Old Valyria that rightfully respected Volantis's true claim to their mother's mantel. Then there were the conquered and resettled Rhoynish cities. Sar Mell, Sarhoy, and even mighty Choryane. All were great cities in their own right, numbering well above even Volantis's sisters like Lys, Tyrosh, and Lorath, not to mention the depleted and ruined cities of Norvos and Qohor.
From the lower Rhoyne sprouted a true empire. Equal in population to the rest of Old Valyria's Essosi holdings, it was little wonder why it took intervention from the cowardly dragon in Westeros and the last Storm King to momentarily halt their expansion.
Before Norys could continue lavishing praise on his beloved city in his mind. Their esteemed guest finally arrived. His palanquin appeared in view as he was brought to and eventually took a seat next to himself and Syrano.
"Good day, Triarch Norys, Triarch Syrano," the skittish Elephant said before them and he shared a look with his old friend. Ever since the Dothraki arrived in the Rhoyne River Valley and wrecked Qohor, Volantis had always had three Tigers at the helm. The arrival of a new threat quickly brought his fellow Old Blood to their senses and they had ousted the bitch Trianna and her despicable party.
'In what world would trade bring us our birthright before the sword?' Norys thought with disgust. They were the heirs of Old Valyria, the last descendants of the true Forty Families. It was only natural that all of Old Valyria's empire should belong to them.
Now a new Elephant sat before them, the first elected in two decades. Yet Norys heard that the brat in front of him was not the worst Elephant he had ever had the displeasure of meeting. Which was not a hard thing to accomplish, he had met Trianna when he was a young boy after all.
The brat sitting at his table was a first-time Triarch. Unlike himself and his longtime friend Syrano. They had both served eight terms by now, together as they ought to be. They were tied by blood after all. He and Syrano were cousins both ways. His paternal aunt had married Syrano's Father and Syrano's paternal aunt married his father.
"I hope I did not miss any important discussions, I was giving my thanks to my kin," the brat sheepishly said, even if he was doing his best to hide his nervousness the boy in front of Norys had clearly failed.
"You missed nothing at all, we are merely enjoying the view," Syrano said and the brat looked a little befuddled, looking out at the colossal Black Walls of their city.
'Typical,' Norys thought. Mareo Votar might have a Volantene name and even been his distant kin but the brat was half Qohorik. He may have been raised behind the towering, Black Walls of Volantis but he could never appreciate their majesty.
"Right… might we begin then? I was told you have important matters to discuss," the impatient Elephant said and Nyros begrudgingly nodded his head. Truly he was not happy to have to discuss with an Elephant, but from what Nyros had gathered, this brat might just be the best of them.
"Of course, I assume you know well enough that everything we discuss here remains confidential?" Syrano said with a raised eyebrow and the brat nodded readily.
"Then where should we begin? The Dothraki, the three whores to our west, or the Targaryen to our north," Norys offered to his younger Triarch, who seemed shocked at being able to choose.
"How about we begin with the Dothraki," the brat said with a stern expression. His inexperience was apparent on his face but at the very least Norys could see hatred.
"Very well, do we know what Khal Oko has planned? I have heard he wishes to move east and face Khal Aqqo," Norys opened the floor readily. The safety of their northern border was at risk after all.
"I have heard little from that region, Khal Oko has clashed with our skirmishers a few times and with the Targaryen's sellswords as well, but he has otherwise seen fit to remain in Ar Noy," Syrano shrugged while their Elephant peer continued to stew in quiet rage.
'It must be his Qohorik blood,' Norys thought with a shrug of his own. Following Qohor's stubborn and foolish resistance to the rightful reconquests of her elder sister on Dagger Lake, the 'great' Khal Temmo had conquered the city. The fools had spent so much of their wealth fighting his beloved Volantis that they had been incapable of facing the Dothraki in any real manner.
The city was all but destroyed and almost every person there killed or enslaved. Emphasis on the almost, as many of the more sane and wealthy members of the Qohorik elite suddenly saw the truth in Volantis's rightful claim to the Valyrian mantle and submitted to his grandfather and his fellow triarchs almost thirty years ago.
In his kin's endless grace and charity, the traitorous nobles of Qohor were forgiven and the nobles who could prove descent from Old Valyria were inducted into the Old Blood, and those who could not settled in Volantis's subordinate cities like Sarhoy or Volon Therys.
It was not just charity of course, the wealthy refugees of Qohor brought many benefits to his beloved Volantis, and his beloved grandfather could see it clearly. The Qohorik taken in not only provided an extremely strong claim to the city of Qohor for the future, but it also gave them access to many sorcerers and blacksmiths who were the envy of the world.
So Volantis had happily stomached the revolting notion that the nobles of Qohor were their equals in favor of taking in the benefits the Qohorik refugees brought. Then, just a scant ten years later, a similar occurrence would take place.
Khal Temmo once again marched to war against one of Volantis's sisters, and again Volantis lost a sibling. Norvos valiantly stood against the Dothraki menace just as Qohor had but they died all the same. Their wealthy nobles and merchants fled south to join Volantis just like Qohor. Luckily they had left behind their laughable religious beliefs just like the Qohorik did.
Far fewer Norvoshi were inducted into the Old Blood, instead, the main benefit the Norvoshi brought to Volantis was repopulating much of the merchant and artisan class that drove much of the economy. Norys was not happy to admit it but their hundred-year war to conquer Essos had drained much of Volantis. With the reinforcements from Qohorik and Norvoshi refugees, along with thirty-odd years of peace, however. Volantis was ready for war again.
He and his kin had been preparing for war with Khal Temmo for the longest time. It was little secret the unwashed barbarian had designs on Volantis and Norys would not have just let him take it. Volantis had a million souls outside of the Black Walls to throw at any attacker. Not counting the several more millions that inhabited the Rhoyne Delta and Volantis's subordinate cities.
However, that never came to pass, and now Volantis had slipped from its war-ready stance ever so slightly and elected an Elephant to office. It was only thanks to the Qohorik and Norvoshi voters that he got in but he was elected all the same. Which meant his Tiger party needed war.
Luckily, there were many enemies to choose from. To the north sat the Khalasar of Khal Oko, based out of Ny Sar and the northern Rhoyne Valley. To the east lay Mantarys, barely habitable but still conquerable if enough effort was put in. To the west lay the disputed lands and Volantis's three whore sisters. Then to the northwest lay the depleted Pentoshi state and the illegitimate Princedom of Norvos.
Now it was time to discuss Oko, however, as that was what their half-blood Elephant peer chose to discuss. "Do you know something that we do not, oh Triarch Mareo?" Norys said a little tauntingly. The Elephant before him might not be so bad, on account of his rather hawkish views, but he would still taunt his political adversary when he could.
"Only that they still occupy rightful Volantene territory," the boy groaned and both Norys and Syrano laughed.
"Perhaps there is hope for you yet, Triarch Mareo," Syrano said with a smile, and the boy looked notably shocked. 'It seems that Syrano had the same idea,' Norys noted. They were uncertain of the beliefs of their half-Qohorik Triarch. He was the first of his kind, and they needed to ensure he was truly loyal to Volantis.
"I doubt that Khal Oko will stay here long. What with the Targaryen preventing looting to the west and Chroyane's defenses still formidable," Norys said simply. It was really simply a matter of where the best prospects lie for Khal Oko. Those prospects were east, in their disgraced sister Essaria and fallen Sarnor.
"Then we ought to be prepared unless we wish for the Targaryen to claim more rightful Volantene clay," Mareo said and Norys smiled. He had heard that the brat in front of him was hawkish but Elephants abhorred war. They were able to be cowed given the arrival of Khal Temmo but to seek a war of conquest? It was unheard of for an Elephant.
"We will be, I will tell the garrison at Choryane to reinforce their defenses, along with transferring some more soldiers from Selhorys and Sar Mell," Syrano said as another slave brought out some more tea.
"What else did we need to speak of? The three whores right?" Mareo said after taking a couple of short sips of the very hot tea while Norys and Syrano simply nodded.
"What do we need to say about them? They remain stubbornly defiant of our rightful place, yes?" Mareo continued expressing his youthful ignorance and this time Norys nodded at Syrano for him to take the lead.
"A delegation from Lys and Myr arrived not long ago, seeking to normalize relations and attempt to start settling border disputes," Syrano said and Mareo looked shocked.
"Why might they do that? Were they not the disloyal cowards who bought help from the Storm King and Aegon the Dragon?" Mareo looked offended, one upside of his youth was that he was raised in quite the bellicose Volantis, which had been still reeling from the humiliations they had endured in living memory.
"Because they fear the dragon to their north," Syrano said while Norys narrowed his eyes at the term used. The only one who had the right to be called by that title was Aegon Targaryen. The coward may be weak-willed but only he earned the right to be referred to as a dragon.
"Maegor Targaryen? Do you think they will submit to us out of fear of him?" Mareo asked with a little excitement, perhaps thinking up some trade deals that could be made like the Elephant he was but Norys shook his head.
"I am afraid not, the Lyseni dropped hints, they were so subtle as to basically be non-existent but they were indeed there. The three whores are planning something together. What it is I do not know but they would not so readily hand themselves over to us at the first sign of danger," Syrano continued.
"Should we take them up on their offer then? To resolve the territorial disputes?" Mareo asked, picking up a pastry with his golden fork and plopping it into his mouth.
"It will not be popular unless we can arm-twist them into giving us more than they want to," Norys finally spoke up. Volantis was in a war-ready mood after all. Should they make moves against war, it would not go well for them next election season.
"Then how about a distraction? Mantarys remains weak from the Doom and the Dothraki, even now they are reeling from the collapse in overland trade on the Demon road. We could conquer them, distract the locals with war and cut the army's teeth facing monsters and abominations," Mareo said and Norys had to stare in awe. The brat in front of him was exceeding all of his expectations.
"It would not be the most lucrative conquest but it could buy us a relatively tolerable treaty with the three whores to our west. Not to mention getting the army some experience after almost forty years of peace is important if we are to tackle the third threat," Syrano shared his opinion going by his tone and gracefully transitioned their conversation to the most pressing matter.
"Then what shall we do with Maegor Targaryen?" Norys said then, his face contorting in displeasure upon speaking his name.
"I think it best we leave him be," "I reckon we ought to prepare for war with him as well," two voices were heard at once. One from his Elephant peer and the other from his old friend. Norys could not help but remember the split opinion on Maegor Targaryen within the Black Walls of Volantis looking at his two fellow triarchs.
House Targaryen was many things behind the walls of Old Volantis. Most considered them an adversary now, weak-willed and foreign. There was a time, however, when the entire world held its breath regarding the last of the dragonlords.
Following the Doom of Valyria, when the Fourteen Flames had ended the reign of their city's illustrious mother, there had existed a few dragonlord survivors. There were a few in Tyrosh and Lys who were quickly killed, with their dragons returning to their doomed home. Then there was Aurion, the "Emperor" of Valyria who had marched his army right into the maws of the Doom along the Demon road. Finally, there existed the one power that could truly match Volantis, House Targaryen of Dragonstone.
Lord Gaemon Targaryen had initially put the fear of a Targaryen Freehold into the eyes of all Essosi when he had mobilized his local forces and crushed pirates and sailors alike who were in the Narrow Sea. Tyrosh in particular was terrified when Lord Gaemon Targaryen landed a force of five hundred men on Bloodstone. It was only when that last glorious Targaryen fell ill and returned to Dragonstone with his elderly dragon did House Targaryen lost its way.
Following the short-lived campaigns of Lord Gaemon, House Targaryen sat idly on their island, gradually losing what made them so special. Occasionally, they would entertain alliance offers and gifts from Essos but they never committed any forces. It was not until Aegon the Dragon crushed their fleet outside of Lys did any Targaryen marched to war in Essos.
Aegon Targaryen brought old fears to life when their fleet sent to reconquer Lys was defeated. Were they facing another Aurion? One not so foolish? The fear had permeated much of Volantis and mixed with the humiliation and hatred to make a veritable firestorm within the city. Aegon Targaryen made a permanent enemy the day he sank their fleet and it was little wonder the exploratory forays of his wife were rebuffed.
When discreet messengers had appeared in the city seeking a worthy bride for the young Maegor Targaryen, there had been few takers, with the prestigious and pure Old Blood either not trusting the liaisons or hating the Targaryens too much. The less prestigious and pure houses were obviously not acceptable to a Dragonlord.
The purest of the Old Blood, like himself and his longtime friend, were effectively indistinguishable from the great Forty Families of the Freehold. They did not wed brothers to sisters like their kin of old had but marriages among first cousins were very common and readily preserved the dragonblood acquired from their descent of branch families from the mighty Forty Families of Valyria. Even House Targaryen likely had distant kin within the Black Walls.
It was not to be, however, as Aegon Targaryen's betrothal of his son to some Andal hag not only made Visenya Targaryen's forays into Volantis moot but no member of the Old Blood was willing to potentially rouse Aegon the Dragon. Now it was seen by more than a few noble-blooded families as a mistake.
Ever since Maegor Targaryen had arrived in Pentos, there had been many in Volantis who wished to invite him behind the Black Walls. Not to be their king or prince or leader but as a fellow member of the Old Blood.
On the surface Norys could understand it, it would give Volantis the same advantages Pentos now had. Namely the defensive guarantor of a dragon and the gratitude of a dragonlord. Even potential marriages given Volantis had no qualms about polygamy.
However, considering what had happened to Pentos, It was safe to say that he had made the right choice when he vetoed an official invitation being sent to Maegor Targaryen. He doubted the treacherous dragon would have had the same success in taking over Volantis the way he did Pentos but the mere chance disgusted Norys, almost as much as the continued support of him behind the Black Walls.
The discourse had changed now of course. Where it was about Maegor Targaryen before, now it was of his sons, whom many had begun referring to as the "Pentoshi Princes". Reports indicated that his whore wife had finally produced a daughter for the eldest "Pentoshi Prince" but his second son remained a mystery.
There were more than a few families that were heavily considering reaching out to Maegor Targaryen in the hopes of a betrothal. 'Anything to get their kin on a dragon I suppose,' Norys thought with disgust.
Truthfully, many in Volantis longed for a dragon. For who could blame them? Many behind the Black Walls gave even Aegon and Visenya Targaryen a run for their money when it came to the purity of blood. Their ancestors ruled the world from magnificent Valyria, and they could do so again, all they needed was a dragon to ride or an egg to hatch and surely they could claim one. The search for eggs had so far turned up empty. None could be found outside of the Valyrian peninsula and all expeditions into the Smoking Sea had never returned.
Perhaps the families who considered offering betrothals foolishly thought that Maegor Targaryen would willingly give up eggs? Or perhaps his grandchildren would? It was a foolish plan born of desperation and stupidity. In their hundred years on Dragonstone, the Targaryens had never lost an egg. What were the odds they would willingly part with one?
So as it seemed, his Elephant peer Mareo and his longtime friend Syrano were both part of different camps. One side hoped for peace and ties with the new Dragonlord based in Pentos and the other correctly realized that peace with a conquering Dragonlord beset on the conquest of all of Old Valyria was impossible.
"I am afraid I agree with Triarch Syrano on this matter, Triarch Mareo," Norys said through gritted teeth. The prospect of facing Maegor Targaryen and his dragon was not exactly appealing, especially given they would likely have to face his mother on her large dragon as well, but it was something they seriously needed to consider.
"Did you all not hear what happened to Braavos? They were even wealthier than we are and now all of that wealth belongs to Prince Maegor," Mareo said and Norys noted his usage of the term "prince."
"Volantis is not Braavos," Syrano said simply and Mareo gave him an incredulous look.
"We have a different situation than Braavos did. Braavos was suddenly attacked, after a supposed assassination attempt by the Faceless Men. Meanwhile, we know that Maegor Targaryen will attack us at some point, so we can better prepare," Norys said and Mareo quickly replied.
"Prepare for what? How can we possibly prepare to fight a dragon? One dragon brought Khal Temmo's army of eighty thousand to its knees and Braavos, a city greater than all but Volantis was humbled in just over a year," Mareo continued and Norys shared a look with his friend. Mareo was clearly still infected with Elephant stupidity.
"Dragons are not invincible and their riders even less so. The people of Tyrosh and Lys both killed many dragonlords that were in their cities after the Doom. The Dornish managed to kill House Targaryen's Meraxes, and we can afford many more scorpions than them. Most promising of all, however, just look at the Spice Wars. The Rhoynar managed to kill several dragons with their water magic, and the descendants of those same Rhoynar still live within Volantis's empire," Norys said and this time it was Mareo's turn to give an incredulous look.
"Are you telling some jape? Your plan to fight the dragons is Rhoynish water magic? How is that not sacrilege? A betrayal of our heritage?" he asked, stupefied and Norys simply shook his head in disappointment.
"The Targaryens betrayed their heritage long before we did," Norys spat. There was a large amount of bitterness and hatred toward House Targaryen, not just for political, but social reasons as well.
First of course was the jealousy, House Targaryen was the least worthy of the surviving forty families, and yet they alone rode dragons. It was unfair, that the family that fled Old Valyria in disgrace to a backwater island in the middle of nowhere, that abandoned their faith, their traditions, and even their illustrious language kept the most powerful weapons in the world.
Then there were the Targaryen's new foreign beliefs. Maegor Targaryen's abhorrence of slavery was well known, the institution that enriched his family, the correct way of the world. That damnable Targaryen hated it, and was able to shake it because of his damned dragon. Not to mention the Andal ideas of Kings and Knights. All of it was disgusting, and a complete betrayal of House Targaryen's illustrious heritage.
Their language was another stickler, House Targaryen still reportedly spoke High Valyrian but the language of their court in Westeros was Andal, the same language as those they conquered. 'How pathetic,' Norys thought, the great Valyrian conquerors of old did not take Ghiscari as their new language, why would Aegon the Dragon choose Andal?
Thus the split within the Old Blood could largely be choked up to the conservatives and the moderates. Conservatives like himself and Syrano rightfully considered the Targaryens to be backwater hicks, barely better than the unwashed Andals they ruled. Meanwhile, the moderates wished to court them because of their damned dragons.
"Besides, that is not the only plan, Maegor Targaryen's dragon is nothing but flying wildfire without an army on the ground beneath it. Should we kill him, then one of us could claim his dragon," Norys continued, earning a displeased look from his Elephant peer.
"Have we not learned from the lesson that the Braavosi oh so helpfully put on full display? Killing Maegor Targaryen is no easy feat, the greatest assassins in the world could not do it," Mareo continued and Norys was growing more impatient.
"Yet he suffered injuries in his battle with the Dothraki, and his mother too suffered injuries in her battle with the Kings of the Rock and Reach. They are not immortal," Norys said with a glare, his Elephant peer showed so much promise, he just needed to open his eyes to the truth.
"And do remember that it took three hundred of Valyria's oldest and most powerful dragons to bring down the Rhoynar, and we are far more capable and skilled than them. All we need is a single advantage," Syrano said this time, ending Norys's thoughts before Mareo responded in turn.
"And where might we find this advantage?"
"We will have to scour the libraries within our nation. Search the banks of the river and the slave pits too. Find any Rhoynish books we can about their magic and any pureblooded Rhoynar. I have also ordered the construction of many more scorpions," Norys said, displeased to have been interrupted. He had tried waving away Mareo's concerns but it seemed to have only riled him up even more.
"Many more scorpions? Triarch Norys surely you know that shot was one in a million," Mareo said with a look of disbelief on his face while Norys continued to shake his head.
"Then I suppose we ought to build more than a million of them, yes?" Norys said and Mareo looked even more shocked, to the point he was turning pale.
"Another expedition into Old Valyria once we conquer Mantarys would not be remiss either," Norys mused as he considered the possibilities. "If we can acquire dragons of our own then Maegor Targaryen will be little more than an annoyance."
"Wait wait wait, Old Valyria?! You want to find dragons there?!" Mareo exclaimed. Norys continued to be disappointed in his junior triarch.
"Indeed, just because our expeditions by sea failed does not mean we can not make it there by taking the demon road to Mantarys and then taking the Hell Road across the Lands of the Long Summer. Many of our kin had estates there prior to the Doom, and we know that Aurion made it far enough into Valyria to never be seen again. Not to mention that sailors have said they can see people on the shores of Old Valyria and some have even seen dragons in the seas to the south of Valyria. All we need is for one expedition to bring back viable eggs and then we will hatch them here," Norys said before Mareo spoke once more.
"Aurion had a dragon to lead his forces through the Doom. Do you expect to meet even a fraction of his success?" Mareo continued to show his lack of faith, revealing himself to be the foreigner he truly was.
"I do," Norys said simply, being backed up by the nods of his blood brother.
"You are chasing the drunken tales of sailors when we ought to be figuring out how to coexist with Prince Maegor. If we choose war with him, we will lose. Besides, even if our forces somehow get to Valyria and find eggs, do you even know how to hatch them?" he asked with a raised eyebrow before Norys became enraged.
"That is not for you to know!" he said with venom in his tone for the first time that day. Of course, this upstart would want to know his family's secrets. He was a fool for thinking this upstart Elephant could be anything less than a conniving cheat.
"Triarch Norys," Syrano quickly said, calming him before he disgraced himself.
"Well, there are two of you and one of myself. So I will just ask, do we have a chance?" Mareo asked with a sigh on his breath.
"We do not just have a chance, Triarch Mareo. We will win.