Chapter 219: The Sealord's Threat
Since the numerous Free Cities, the Tall Men's last stronghold of Saath, and Prince Rhaegar Targaryen of Westeros signed the Rhoyne River Treaty on the hills near Ghadosa, a new sphere of influence and a new alliance was born.
The Rhoyne River Alliance, a coalition of the seven major Free Cities of Essos, the Tall Men's remaining stronghold of Saath, and the Iron Throne of Westeros, unanimously resolved to counter the expansion of the Dothraki. But those well-informed and discerning individuals would not forget that the Sealord of Braavos and Lorath were not invited. Was this a signal? Many city-states within the alliance were dissatisfied with Braavos, such as Pentos and Volantis. Crucially, did the will of the dominant Dragonrider also harbor malice toward Braavos?
"If you cross the sea, I cross the sea. The two cities compete not only on the ocean, but this Rhoyne River Alliance is the true way to pull the rug out from under them. Open up land trade routes and stimulate commerce!" Rhaegar was quite satisfied with the Rhoyne River Alliance for now. First, deal with the external Dothraki Khals and intimidate the potential Sealord of Braavos. As for the nations within the alliance, they would be easier to tame under the pressure of military force and intertwined interests. The battle line should not be stretched too thin; concentrating our efforts is the best way to eliminate the enemy. Since Braavos has always been willing to practice glorious isolation and lacks the ability to help the Free Cities escape the threats of the Khals, then let another power belong to those who are willing to protect it!
"Prince, you've become a great wealthy man overnight!" Prince Oberyn Martell said exaggeratedly. The treasury in Ghadosa was currently overflowing, filled with gifts.
Rhaegar, Oberyn, and Ser Barristan inspected the treasury. To celebrate the successful conclusion of the alliance meeting, many nations had presented him with numerous gifts. The previously empty city of Ghadosa was now filled with various treasures.
"These treasures aren't free; I need to provide firepower and military support!" Rhaegar said, looking at the dazzling array of jewels. Three cities particularly caught his attention: Saath of the Tall Men, Myr the City of Craftsmen, and Qohor the Forest City. The Sarnori people presented blood-red steeds, scythed chariots, and armor made of steel and spider silk. Qohor sent brocades, high-quality timber, and popular wood carvings, along with furs, silver, tin, and amber. The Myrish people sent handicrafts, the finest products of their city. These included finished goods such as carpets and lace, the best lenses and telescopes, as well as screens, mirrors, lace, and glass window panes that could be sold for the same price as Eastern spices. Also included were the flattering paintings from Myr; Myrish paintings and miniatures were highly regarded and featured a vivid style. Myr also provided specialized crossbows capable of firing three bolts consecutively.
"Compile a good count of these assets. This precious gold is the military fund needed to awaken the Dragon!" Rhaegar said to Oberyn and Barristan. The group then walked out of the treasury and headed toward the square.
"The elite soldiers from most of the Known World!" In the square of Ghadosa, Rhaegar saw several different guards: Volantene guards with tiger-head helmets, slave soldiers with tattooed faces, the Bearded Priests and Holy Guards of Norvos, the Unsullied Guards of Qohor, the iron-clad knights of Westeros, and the Dothraki Screamers. These different types of people gathered together were quite interesting. Other Free Cities, such as Pentos and the Three Daughters, mainly relied on mercenaries and had few standing armies; only their navies were somewhat respectable. Saath only had twenty thousand people, and their royal guards were the weakest.
"Please!" Oberyn raised his spear and was engaging in a bout with an Unsullied Guard. Rhaegar watched the duel with keen interest, delighted by the sight of a good fight.
"Watch out for my spear!" Oberyn leaped up, his Dornish spear flashing cold light as he lunged at the Unsullied Guard. The Unsullied were similar to light infantry. Their equipment included short swords, shields, spears, and spiked helmets. Because the Qohorik were wealthy, they had equipped the Unsullied with some simple armor, as slave masters generally did not provide armor.
Both men's spears flashed, but Oberyn was ultimately superior in skill. The black-haired, black-eyed Oberyn was indeed like a venomous snake, his spear serving as its tongue. However, the formation of the Unsullied Guard excelled in reliability and stability, the result of relentless, daily training. It was straightforward, but such training ensured the warrior maintained at least a second-rate standard. Oberyn achieved the final victory, and this specific Unsullied Guard proved to be worth his price.
"The main factors must be the Wine of Courage and the training!" Rhaegar thought. Eunuchs, in the traditional sense, certainly lack the stamina of ordinary people. The Unsullied are primarily an army forged by brutal training and the Wine of Courage—an army of discipline and ruthlessness. The Unsullied know no fear and obey orders absolutely. They regularly drink the Wine of Courage to reduce their sensitivity to pain. They drink this wine with every meal, and their sensitivity to pain decreases year by year. Elite and high-intensity training makes them the most effective fighting unit. The Unsullied have no cavalry.
"Does Prince Rhaegar also wish to enter the arena? We have long heard that the Prince is a warrior renowned across the Narrow Sea!" the Qohor envoy asked. The Norvos envoy was also very interested.
"The two of you come together!" Rhaegar instructed the Norvos Holy Guard and the Qohor Unsullied Guard Captain to advance together. Both were high-level leaders, and upon receiving the order, they stepped forward to spar. The great axe and short sword struck simultaneously. Rhaegar raised a spear. The spear emitted a clanging sound of steel, the cry of iron. Both guard captains were top-tier experts; the Unsullied struck viciously, and the Norvosi axeman possessed immense power. Unfortunately, neither was much of a match. Rhaegar simply swept them aside. Incredulous looks appeared on their faces—that was tremendous power, surpassing ordinary men. This power did not come from a mortal, but originated from bloodline and runes.
Oberyn's expression was complex. Perhaps this was a peak he could never surpass; in this first aspect of strength, he was no match. Rhaegar swept aside the two experts as if lifting something light, yet judging by the expressions of the Norvosi and the Qohorik Unsullied, he hadn't held back.
The envoys from Norvos and Qohor had anticipated a loss, but the defeat being so clean and swift truly exceeded their expectations, leaving their expressions complicated. Norvos and Qohor were inland territories. They had heard the stories of Rhaegar, but seeing was believing. They had been quite confident in their Holy Guards and Unsullied Guards. Yet, judging by the current display, the gap might be as vast as heaven and earth. However, this was also a good thing: a strong, fearless Dragonrider was exactly what they needed to lead them in driving out the Khals. Ideally, they could consume each other's strength while the envoys reaped the benefits.
"Prince Rhaegar, although the alliance you forged is full of hope, we will incur the hatred of two powers!" Oberyn said privately to Rhaegar. Oberyn was a very reliable assistant, possessing a decent political mind and not being a mere brute.
"Are you referring to the Sealord of Braavos and Qarth, the Greatest City That Ever Was or Will Be?" Rhaegar knew what Oberyn meant. Both Braavos and Qarth relied on sea transport. The ravages of the Dothraki people, which destroyed all the cities on the Dothraki Sea, might not have been a bad thing for them. Qarth was the last city of the Qartheen people, making vast fortunes through the Jade Gates. If a new, reliable land route emerged without the Dothraki blocking the way, it would be a blow to both major cities.
"Every benefit comes with a drawback. Since we have resolved to do this, we must face the world's storm head-on. The Pureborn of Qarth once attempted to assassinate me, and I have yet to repay them!" Rhaegar's resolve was iron-hard. The Game of Thrones was fundamentally a distribution of interests, a game of cutting flesh. He hadn't provoked Qarth, but Qarth had already caused him considerable trouble. Those high walls might hide them from the Khals, but they might not hide them from the Dragon.
Seeing that Rhaegar had a plan, Oberyn said no more. The iron curtain had been drawn; now they would wait for the fish to bite the hook.
Unfortunately, the Khals had not yet arrived, but the Sealord's envoy, Ferrego Antaryon, had. Ferrego brought a small but refined guard detail.
Beside Ferrego was an elite Water Dancer from Braavos, while Rhaegar was flanked by Barristan and Oberyn. The atmosphere was tense and confrontational.
"You have crossed the line, Prince Rhaegar!" Ferrego said, his face grim. The Rhoyne River Alliance was a signal: today it was used against the Dothraki people, tomorrow it could be used against Braavos. In the town of Ghadosa, Ferrego saw Dothraki Screamers, now like tamed dogs. He saw the iron-clad knights of Westeros, and even merchants from Pentos who had traveled far to be here. From Braavos's perspective, all of this was extremely dangerous. This was a pincer attack on two fronts; confrontation at sea was outdated, and now the threat was an attack from the land.
"I don't understand what you mean, Young Master Ferrego. The continent of Essos is not the private territory of the Sealord of Braavos. I am merely discussing peace and development. Does the Sealord consider this his private menagerie?" Rhaegar feigned ignorance.
"Prince Rhaegar, you are an intelligent man, and I don't think you need to play dumb. You have organized an alliance, and you are destroying the peace of Essos!" Ferrego said exasperatedly.
"I have not burned, killed, or looted; I have brought peace to Essos! I wonder, when the Dothraki Khals were raging and pillaging back then, did the Sealord ever step forward? Since you cannot bring peace, why do you monopolize this authority?" Rhaegar looked at the black-clothed Ferrego, the noble young master of Braavos, and the future Sealord.
"We are opposing the rude and violent civilization of the Dothraki, an evil domain," Ser Barristan interjected, refusing to yield an inch.
"The Dragons are certainly terrifying, but don't forget that we in Braavos also have our trump card. Even if our fleet and our mercenaries cannot withstand the Dragons, we still have a hidden hand." Ferrego looked at Rhaegar, his gaze cold as iron. "There is what we might call a guild in Braavos... whose members possess astonishing professional skills. They cannot destroy King's Landing or fill the streets with corpses, but they certainly can kill people... killing targets they have carefully selected."
"Mind your words, Young Master Ferrego!" Prince Oberyn's eyes were icy, ready to draw his sword at any moment.
"I know what you are talking about. You are threatening me with the Faceless Men! Perhaps I should regard this as a provocation!" Rhaegar stared at Ferrego. The temperature in the air seemed to plummet rapidly. The guards beside Ferrego felt a sudden panic, sensing the menacing killing intent. He was a young dragon, but also a notorious hungry dragon.
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