"Slaver's Bay does indeed feed livestock with fish heads, but if prepared properly, fish heads can be quite delicious. Back when the Dragon Queen hosted me, she served…" Danzo paused to think, then said uncertainly, "Was it chopped chili fish head or garlic fish head?"
"If the Dragon Queen can eat it, so can we. It's just that eating fish every day gets a bit tiring."
"Bang bang bang~~" The cook serving food struck the side of the copper barrel loudly with a ladle and shouted, "So are you eating or not?"
It was their turn.
"Of course. A large portion," Danzo said calmly, glancing at the silver-haired, blue-eyed middle-aged woman.
He recognized her. She was Kelly from Volantis, who used to sell mutton pies. After she tried to fleece him like a fat sheep, he had reported her to the military tribunal, and she was turned into a slave.
Who would have thought that after the Battle of Meereen, the slaves would suddenly rise and become free citizens with land and homes, while officers like them would become prisoners, guarded by those who were once slaves?
Aunt Kelly picked up a tin lunchbox and ladled half a small fish head for Danzo. The rest was mostly broth, with barely any strands of seaweed.
The warrior-poet felt both grief and indignation. Back then, even as a prisoner, he had been personally entertained by the Dragon Queen. Now, not only could he not see her, even a mere cook dared to toy with and humiliate him.
After the indignation came deep helplessness. The choices he made in the past had led to the results he now had to accept.
He could neither blame nor resent the commander who had died miserably in Westeros. Who could have imagined that an allied army of hundreds of thousands would be defeated so cleanly?
The alliance had gathered the strength of the entire world to fight against the small Slaver's Bay, which was not even as large as one of the Seven Kingdoms, the Reach. And yet, the world lost. Was that reasonable?
Judging only by the outcome, it seemed absurd. But upon closer examination of the process, their defeat was not unjustified. Even the gods had taken the field.
"Sigh… it's all fate."
With a sigh, Danzo accepted the lunchbox helplessly.
A box of fish head, kelp, and oat soup, along with a loaf of mixed-grain bread.
A thick layer of red oil floated on the soup, and the aroma of beef fat and fire dragon peppers filled the entire tunnel.
Grazdan, Zidane, and Danzo sat along the tunnel, squatting on the ground. They tore off large chunks of bread, dipped them into the soup, and stuffed them into their mouths, letting out satisfied sighs.
"Even prisoners like us get beef fat and fire dragon peppers. Just how much food has Slaver's Bay stockpiled? Maybe being captured by the Dragon Queen is actually a blessing," Grazdan remarked.
"Has your brain frozen over? We start logging at nine in the morning and finish at five in the evening. After dinner, we still have to farm in the tunnels until nine at night.
We only get one day off every seven days.
Even livestock shouldn't be worked like this, and you call it a blessing?" Zidane widened his eyes in disbelief.
"Livestock are more valuable than people. A warhorse that sprints at full speed for two hours needs to rest for several days. Draft oxen never plow continuously for four hours," Danzo said, baring his teeth from the spiciness after taking a sip of soup.
"But I'm telling you, it really is a blessing," Grazdan said with a bitter smile. "We prisoners can all eat our fill. What does that tell you?
It means the Dragon Queen has long prepared for the Long Night. It means Slaver's Bay has abundant food.
We farm every day now, which means food can be continuously produced. Even if the farmland in the tunnels is limited, at least we have vegetables and fresh fruits to improve our meals."
"We're not commoners. Even if we leave Slaver's Bay, we won't lack food," Zidane said dismissively.
"Heh, you think the commoners will watch you eat meat while they slowly die from hunger and cold?
The victory of the slaves in Slaver's Bay is an example. No matter how weak the commoners are, they have more drive and strength than slaves.
If the legends are true, this Long Night will last a generation. Aside from Slaver's Bay, the entire world will become a frozen hell," Grazdan sneered.
"Grazdan! Where is Grazdan?"
As the group chatted and ate noisily, a warhorse suddenly galloped into the tunnel. The rider, speaking in oddly accented Valyrian, called out Grazdan's name.
Grazdan hesitated.
"Where is Grazdan? The Queen wants to see you!" the rider shouted.
"I am Grazdan!"
Hearing that the Queen had summoned him, the Grazdans no longer hesitated. Seventeen or eighteen people stood up at once along the long tunnel.
All of them were Ghiscari with black and red hair.
"Neigh~~" The rider pulled his horse to a sharp halt and looked around in confusion.
"Why are there so many Grazdans? You must not deceive the Queen, or you'll lose your heads!" he shouted.
"I'm not lying. My name is Grazdan."
"I really am Grazdan!"
At the mention of execution, all the Grazdans became agitated.
"Buzz~~" The small sun hovering in front of the rider transformed into a black-haired little girl.
"The Queen wants to see Grazdan, the War God of Yunkai. Who is the War God of Yunkai?" the little sprite called out.
"It's me. I am…" Grazdan said awkwardly. "I am Grazdan of Yunkai."
In his current state, he could hardly bring himself to say the title "War God."
"Then are you the War God or not?" The little sprite flew in front of him, hands on her hips.
Grazdan became even more embarrassed. "I… I'm not worthy of being called a War God."
"If you're not the War God, why did you step forward? The Queen is looking for the War God of Yunkai," the sprite said angrily.
Grazdan flushed with shame.
Feeling the strange looks and hearing the mocking whispers around him, he clenched his teeth and summoned all his strength. His square, resolute face became somewhat ferocious. "I am Grazdan, the War God of Yunkai. You have found the right person."
The little sprite Hongti was startled. "What are you doing?
One moment you say you're not a War God, the next you say you are. Which is it? If you dare fool me, I'll poke your eyes out!"
As she spoke, Hongti turned into a small sun again, radiating dazzling light that forced tears from Grazdan's eyes.
"I am a War God who has lost every battle. I bear the name of a War God but have none of the achievements," he lamented.
Hongti looked confused and turned back into a sprite, sucking on her finger as she thought.
"Lady Hongti, he is the Grazdan the Queen is looking for," the rider helpfully said, sparing the War God further embarrassment.
That very night, the War God of Yunkai returned.
When he left, he wore a dirty, worn sheepskin coat. When he came back, he was completely renewed. He wore a silver-gray leopard fur undergarment beneath bright red leather armor, with a dark golden lion-skin cloak draped behind him. Mounted on a strong yellow horse, he looked imposing and dignified.
"Grazdan, have you been recruited by the Dragon Queen?" Zidane asked, his eyes red with envy.
Ignoring the sour remark, Grazdan faced the prisoners and said loudly, "I need a group of literate attendants, preferably from Volantis, with families and livelihoods."
After half an hour of organizing, he recruited about two hundred people.
In another wide tunnel, he gathered them and said in a deep voice, "I am now the commander-in-chief of the Volantis theater, appointed by the Dragon Queen."
"What? The Dragon Queen is going to attack Volantis? The Long Night has arrived. It's cold and dark. Marching three thousand kilometers west would be madness," Danzo said in confusion.
Raising a hand to silence the commotion, Grazdan frowned. "It is not an invasion of Volantis, but leading the people of Volantis back to their homeland."
"The Dragon Queen is willing to let us go?" a middle-aged Volantene knight with a flat nose asked excitedly.
Grazdan explained, "The Queen said we should have been subjected to five or eight years of labor reform. But the Long Night has arrived, and it will only grow colder. This process may last more than ten years.
Most of the soldiers who came to Slaver's Bay are the pillars of their families, with wives, children, and parents to care for.
Therefore, she is willing to show mercy and forgive our crimes, allowing us to return home and reunite with our families."
"My home is in Braavos. Can I leave too?" Zidane quickly asked.
"It's voluntary. Anyone willing to leave Slaver's Bay and return home may do so. However, Slaver's Bay will only provide rations up to Volantis. Beyond that, we must arrange our own expenses," Grazdan said.
"What? They even provide rations? The Dragon Queen is too kind!"
"All the way to Volantis, that's three thousand kilometers. If tens of thousands of us leave, how much food would that consume?"
Everyone was shocked.
"The Dragon Queen's fleet will take us to Tolos. From Tolos to Volantis is about eighteen hundred kilometers.
At Tolos, each person choosing to return home will receive fifty jin of salted fish heads, thirty jin of wheat, and twenty jin of turnips or sweet potatoes," Grazdan continued.
"One hundred jin. If we're careful, that's enough for two months. We should be able to reach Volantis, but carrying supplies will slow us down…" Danzo frowned.
"I am the commander of the Westward Return Legion. I will arrange unified food transport. The Dragon Queen is also willing to provide us with enough handcarts and some oxen and horses," Grazdan said.
"This… the treatment is too good, isn't it?" Even Danzo, the warrior-poet, was doubtful.
"You've read books and can write, yet you still think you've gained something," Grazdan said with a bitter smile, shaking his head. "Do the math. If we don't leave, how much food would she have to spend on us?"
Seeing their confused expressions, he sighed. "One hundred jin of food might last two or three months, but if we stay in Slaver's Bay, spending ten years here would not be surprising. How many three-month periods is that?
In other words, by sending one person away, the Dragon Queen saves at least ninety-five percent of the food."
"So we gain freedom and free food, yet we're the ones losing out?" Everyone looked conflicted.
"But we are working, and it's very hard work," Zidane argued.
"Sigh… we are taking jobs from millions of people in Slaver's Bay," Grazdan explained.
"With the Long Night here, large-scale industrial and agricultural production is no longer possible.
Many people are now idle at home, unable to find work.
As soon as we leave, the logging jobs will be taken over by countless free citizens.
They won't need to work as hard, only enough to gather firewood for their families.
So the fact that we can work these long hours really is a blessing."
After an awkward silence, Zidane gritted his teeth and said, "At least we've gained our freedom."
"Long live freedom!" someone immediately echoed.
"To breathe the sweet air of freedom, I would give everything," another declared passionately.
"You don't need to give everything. We don't have to pay any price, and we even receive aid from the Queen," Grazdan said, shaking his head.
Hearing this, many people felt an odd discomfort. Freedom obtained without paying any price seemed to have lost some of its sweetness.
(End of Chapter)
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