The vast sea stretched endlessly beneath a bright blue sky dotted with scattered white clouds.
The great fleet sailed smoothly across the waves.
Vaqiro, the renegade Red Priest, had summoned favorable winds for Volantis, allowing the fleet to maintain remarkable speed.
Hundreds of ships cut through the water, their sails displaying the proud symbols of Volantis—the Long Bridge, the Black Walls, the Glimmering Coin, the Elephant, and the Tiger.
The slave sailors bore sail-shaped tattoos on their faces, while the elite Tiger Cloaks displayed painted tiger stripes across their cheeks. Alongside them were citizen guards from within the Black Walls, personally brought by Magistrate Marajo of the Tiger Party. These men served as captains, officers, and veteran first mates.
The mercenary company known as the Windblown had also joined the campaign, along with several other sellsword groups. Hiring them had cost a fortune, though most of that gold had come from bribes collected from the slave cities.
Marajo considered it money well spent.
"There are plenty of fools among them," Marajo thought as he looked toward the ships following behind the Volantis fleet.
Further back sailed vessels carrying exiled nobles from Myr and Tyrosh, along with representatives from nearly every slave-holding city willing to join the war.
Their goal was simple.
Crush the Storm.
Destroy the Liberator.
Meereen, Yunkai, Astapor, New Ghis, and Toleros had all answered the call.
Only Qarth had remained neutral.
The Tolerosi brought skilled slingers who used deadly lead bullets instead of stone projectiles. These cities could not afford to lose the markets of Myr and Tyrosh, nor could they tolerate anyone threatening the foundations of slavery itself.
Meereen was ruled by the Great Masters.
Yunkai was governed by the Wise Masters.
Astapor was controlled by the Good Masters.
These noble families had elevated slave breeding into an art.
Astapor produced Unsullied.
Meereen specialized in pit fighters.
Yunkai, by contrast, was infamous for training pleasure slaves rather than warriors.
Most of Slaver's Bay proudly claimed descent from the ancient Ghiscari Empire.
As a result, many of their ships flew sails decorated with the Harpy—a creature with the body of a woman, bat-like wings, eagle talons, and a scorpion's tail. In its claws it held a whip and a chain, symbols of slavery itself.
---
Aboard Marajo's flagship, the Valyrian, a massive tiger banner fluttered in the wind.
The deck was crowded with nobles from across Slaver's Bay.
They constantly flattered Marajo and entertained him with jokes and stories.
Despite Volantis losing its dominance during the Century of Blood, it remained far superior to any individual city in Slaver's Bay.
Near the main mast stood several slaves bound to wooden pillars.
Their tongues had been cut out.
Blood-stained foam dripped from their mouths.
Their crime was simple.
They had spoken against the war.
Perhaps some had even dared mention the growing influence of the Storm.
Such words were considered treason.
Yakhaz zo Yazzak, an aging Yunkish commander, had been appointed Grand Marshal of the coalition army.
He approached Marajo.
"Shall we begin?"
Marajo nodded.
"Begin."
Several Tolerosi slingers stepped forward.
One of them launched a lead bullet.
The projectile struck a slave soldier's knee.
Bone exploded instantly.
Blood sprayed across the deck.
The lower leg remained attached only by torn tendons.
The victim's screams echoed across the sea.
Nearby prostitutes and bed slaves laughed.
The slingers cursed the man's bad luck for surviving the strike.
Marajo watched carefully.
"Slingers lack the range of archers," he thought.
"But at close distance, lead bullets are far deadlier than arrows."
Yakhaz laughed.
"With weapons like these, what city could possibly resist us?"
"I'm already looking forward to feasting in King's Landing."
Marajo nodded but sighed.
"It is unfortunate that Qarth chose not to participate."
The Qartheen constantly boasted that their city stood at the center of the world.
Marajo despised their arrogance.
Unfortunately, they were also incredibly wealthy.
Oznakh zo Pahl of Meereen stepped forward proudly.
"Even without Qarth, our coalition is unmatched."
"Exactly!" agreed another Yunkish commander.
The man was so enormously obese that Volantene soldiers had nicknamed him the Yellow Whale.
He wore an expensive yellow silk tokar trimmed with gold.
His weight prevented him from standing without assistance.
He constantly smelled of urine despite drowning himself in perfume.
Marajo glanced at him and suppressed a grimace.
Yunkai had always specialized in training pleasure slaves rather than soldiers.
He had little confidence in many of their commanders.
There was Yellow Whale.
The female general.
The dwarf known as Little Pigeon.
Lord Jingle's three brothers.
General Wigglebutt.
The Drunken Conqueror.
The Menagerie Master.
Puddingface.
Rabbit.
The Charioteer.
The Perfume Hero.
It was an army led by eccentrics.
Some commanded only twenty men.
Others led thousands.
Most supplied and trained their own slave soldiers.
---
The forces Marajo respected most came from Astapor, Meereen, New Ghis, and Toleros.
Astapor had brought the Unsullied under Commander Krazz.
The Unsullied were famous throughout the world.
Unfortunately for Astapor, many former Unsullied now fought for the Liberator.
Meereen contributed pit fighters commanded by Oznakh zo Pahl and Hizdahr zo Loraq.
New Ghis sent its renowned Iron Legion.
Unlike the Unsullied, these soldiers were free citizens who served fixed military terms.
"If we arrive in time, victory is certain," Oznakh declared confidently.
"I command the finest pit fighters in existence."
Marajo smiled.
"Then I hope all of you heroes will share victory with me."
"Of course!"
Oznakh laughed loudly.
"We Meereenese warriors have crossed the world to kill the Storm King and capture the Dragon Princess!"
Marajo silently wished the man's military ability matched his confidence.
---
When the coalition reached Lys, the flamboyant Lysene fleet joined them.
Magister Ren Hein, First Magister of Lys, personally came aboard the Valyrian.
"You move quickly, Magistrate Marajo."
"Opportunity waits for no one," Marajo replied.
Ren looked uneasy.
"Are we not moving too quickly?"
Marajo shook his head.
"Join my cause."
"I have already offered sacrifices to the Storm God. Favorable winds are guaranteed."
Ren frowned.
"We're crossing the Stepstones to attack King's Landing itself."
"Why not target Myr or Tyrosh first?"
Marajo answered calmly.
"Tyrosh has strong walls."
"Myr has stronger ones."
"King's Landing is vulnerable."
"I have no desire for a decade-long war."
"I'm old."
"I want victory now."
He pointed westward.
"The Storm divided his fleet."
"A large portion sailed around Dorne."
"That arrogance will destroy him."
"Youth always mistakes boldness for wisdom."
"What about Braavos?" Ren asked.
"The Sealord is old and dying."
"He will not interfere."
"Besides, we aren't building an empire."
"We are eliminating a threat."
"If anyone seeks to reshape the world, it is Gendry of the Storm."
Marajo's eyes narrowed.
"Kill him, and the slave cities survive."
"Kill him, and everything returns to normal."
---
Meanwhile, on the southern bank of the Blackwater Rush, thousands of tents stretched across the landscape.
Gendry stood overlooking the river and the distant walls of King's Landing.
"The Bolton forces are accelerating their march south."
"The younger Direwolf Army will attack the northern side of the city."
Everyone sensed the coming storm.
A battle that would decide kings and kingdoms.
Gendry turned toward his commanders.
"Strengthen our scout network."
"Have the mountain wildlings patrol our flanks and rear."
"Watch Tywin and the Reach army carefully."
Barristan Selmy nodded.
"It will be done."
Gendry valued scouts more than most commanders.
Having served as a vanguard fighter himself, he understood their importance.
The surviving wildlings were too valuable to waste.
"What news of Lord Selwyn Tarth?"
Barristan answered.
"He has made contact with the Reach army."
"Lord Mace commands personally."
"Garlan and Loras lead the vanguard."
"Their numbers exceed fifty thousand."
Gendry spread a map across the table.
"So they've arrived earlier than expected."
He traced the Rose Road with one finger.
"Lord Mace claims he will obey my command."
"Yet he has sent no hostages."
His eyes hardened.
"Once the giant trebuchets are assembled, some will target the Mud Gate."
"The others will face the direction of the Reach army."
Barristan understood.
Bombarding the Tyrells was only a last resort.
But the possibility itself would force caution.
---
At that moment, Tyene Sand arrived.
Dressed in pale blue silk adorned with delicate Myrish lace, she looked more like a noble maiden than one of Oberyn Martell's daughters.
Her golden hair shimmered in the sunlight.
Her deep blue eyes concealed dangerous intelligence.
"The Reach army has arrived," she said.
"Yet you still refuse to retreat?"
Gendry smiled.
"My lady, wars are not won by numbers alone."
Tyene returned the smile.
"Your confidence is impressive."
"It always has been."
"What news from Dorne?" Gendry asked.
"How are Prince Doran, Prince Oberyn, and Ser Davos?"
Tyene's smile softened.
"My uncle Doran remains as frail as ever."
"My father remains impossible to exhaust."
"As for Ser Davos, Doran provided him with an important sea chart."
"It may prove crucial."
Gendry nodded.
Tyene studied him carefully.
"My father often speaks of you."
"He calls you a rare genius."
"A warrior and commander in equal measure."
Gendry laughed.
"I'm no genius."
"Just a hardworking man."
Tyene looked unconvinced.
"You should return to Dragonstone," Gendry advised.
"This battlefield will soon become dangerous."
Tyene's eyes sparkled.
"Dragonstone sounds terribly boring."
She gazed toward King's Landing.
"I prefer watching history unfold."
"The clash of armies."
"The rise and fall of kings."
"The greatest war in the known world."
And as the armies gathered around King's Landing, it seemed that history was indeed preparing to reveal its answer.
Who would rise?
And who would fall?