The territory of the "Lord of the Wolf Pack" includes two islands in the Stepstones, a peninsula in the Disputed Lands, and numerous estates beyond it.
Most of western Essos is fertile and prosperous, rich and well-watered. The Wolf Pack's domain is no exception. Militarily, however, it lacks strong natural defenses or real strategic depth. If war comes, they can only win by fighting each battle head-on.
"Freedom!"
"Liberate the slaves!"
The banner of the Shackle-Breakers spread through the Disputed Lands like a contagion, even reaching the towns of the Three Daughters and as far as Volantis. Escaped slaves poured in from the Disputed Lands and even from the deep banks of the Rhoyne, flocking to the "Breakers." The Free Company's momentum grew by the day.
The upper echelons of Myr, Tyrosh, Lys, and even Volantis were deeply alarmed. But their multi-people democratic systems made decision-making slow and cumbersome. Compared to the Wolf Pack's unified command and strict discipline, they moved with frustrating delay.
Inside Gendry's tent, voices clashed as the next stage of the war was debated.
Myr's first defeat had not crippled them. A second war was already taking shape. This time it was no single Magister's private vengeance, but a coordinated effort backed by more of them. Slaveholders who had brutalized their slaves for years had no taste for seeing the roles reversed.
Crates of blood oranges filled the tent, their rich fragrance sweetening the air. Their crimson flesh, red as spilled blood, seemed an omen of the coming war. The senior leaders of the Wolf Pack and the Free Company ate in silence. The oranges had come from Dorne. Since securing a coastline and open ports, bold merchants and smugglers had begun trading with territories under Wolf Pack control.
"Beware gifts from Myr!" Gendry said, studying the letter sent by the Red Viper.
It had arrived hidden inside a hollowed-out orange, delivered by Dornish fishermen who traded the fruit. A gift from Myr meant only one thing: they were preparing to launch another assault on his kingdom.
In truth, Qyburn's spies had learned of it already. Still, the Red Viper's letter carried a gesture of goodwill. He was willing to offer assistance. It seemed Myr had reached out to many Free Cities—and had even tried to seek help from Dorne.
"Myr is aggressively courting mercenary companies capable of marching against us," the Handsome Man reported. "From the Golden Company to the Company of the Cat, the Windblown Company, the Long Lances, the Stormcrows—every reputable force has been approached. They've even contacted struggling outfits like the Second Sons!"
The Disputed Lands teemed with mercenary companies, but only a few were truly formidable. The Golden Company ranked first, ten thousand strong and well trained. The Company of the Cat fielded three thousand infantry. The Windblown Company had two thousand mounted and foot soldiers. The Long Lances counted more than eight hundred cavalry. The once-proud but now diminished Second Sons had only five or six hundred men left, and the Stormcrows were of similar size.
"They've even gone to the Company of the Cat and the Second Sons? That's desperation," Fletcher said with a laugh. The Company of the Cat, under Bloodbeard, was infamous for brutality, and the Second Sons had an equally foul reputation.
"Reputation aside, both the Company of the Cat and the Second Sons are still capable," said Longspear, the cavalry commander. "The Golden Company stands alone at the top, no doubt. But the Company of the Cat still fields over three thousand men."
"What about the Golden Company?" That was the name everyone cared about most. The strongest Sellsword company in the Disputed Lands—large, disciplined, and battle-hardened.
"The Golden Company is watching and waiting," Qyburn replied. "Their asking price is astronomical, beyond what even the Magisters of Myr can easily afford. And they won't take the field against the wolf packs directly. At most, they would accept a contract to protect a Free City from our attacks for a fixed term."
Qyburn, serving as both Maester and strategist, also oversaw the Wolf Pack's intelligence network.
"They're hesitating," Gendry said. "They could side with either camp. Support the wolf packs, and they might gain backing for a future invasion of Westeros. Support Myr, and they walk away with enormous wealth."
"Lord Commander, should we send envoys to win the Golden Company over?" the Handsome Man asked.
"No need. I doubt the Golden Company's officers are fools."
Gendry's expression hardened.
"What I'm about to say won't be pleasant, but it concerns whether our cause succeeds or fails."
The tent fell quiet.
"We must be careful with our policies and methods. Our foothold in the Disputed Lands rests on liberating slaves—not on indiscriminate killing or creating enemies faster than we can handle. Defeating the slaveholders is inevitable. But we cannot slaughter recklessly, especially not skilled craftsmen and artisans. If we do, every slave-owning Free City will unite against us. I want as much of the existing order preserved as possible."
Every war reshapes power, replacing one ruling structure with another.
Gendry's base was made up of escaped slaves. Their conflict with the slaveholders was irreconcilable. Even so, excess must be avoided. Slaveholders willing to accept peace could be bought or placated. Die-hard opponents would be met with force.
War was simply the continuation of politics. And politics, at its heart, was always a balance of compromise and suppression.
"Yes, Lord Commander!"
"At your command, Lord Commander!"
"We also need to address the Free Company's fighting strength. We have numbers now, but they must be trained systematically and at scale. Training is the foundation of any army. Our instructors are seasoned warriors. The Wolf Pack is fierce by nature, and the new recruits joining the Free Company must be tempered into real steel. Discipline comes next. Both the Wolf Pack and the Free Company must enforce strict military discipline, and recruitment must be rigorous. As for those bandit slaves or rogue Sellswords who try to restore slavery or slaughter innocents indiscriminately, we will show no mercy."
Gendry made himself perfectly clear. The Wolf Pack and the Free Company would soon put his orders into action.
The Free Company was already undergoing specialized training suited to different roles. The Wolf Pack trained in the Northern style, focusing on direct assaults, with knights and longbowmen among their ranks. The Unsullied method centered on light infantry phalanxes, drilled to move and fight as one.
"One more matter, Lord Commander," the Handsome Man said. "Many Freedmen have petitioned for you to be crowned King of the Narrow Sea, the Stepstones, and the Disputed Lands."
The moment the words left his mouth, several faces in the tent grew tense. A string of victories had stirred new ambitions among the soldiers and the Freedmen alike. They wanted to place a crown upon their Lord Commander's head.
"That can wait," Gendry said firmly. "Now is not the time. If I claim a crown now, we become the common enemy of all."
He understood what the Freedmen and the Wolf Pack soldiers were thinking. He even shared the desire.
He wanted the crown himself.
But not yet.
Build walls. Store grain. Delay the coronation. That was the prudent path. The moment he put on a crown, he would be placing himself over an open flame.
"We stand by the Lord Commander's decision," the Handsome Man said, letting out a quiet breath. He had feared Gendry might be swept up in the moment. That would have shaken everything.
"A wise choice," Maester Qyburn added. "We do not yet control all of the Stepstones, nor have we taken any true city, such as those of the Three Daughters. The Lord Commander is right. Our strength is still limited."