Though she utterly despised the Ghis slave trade, Daenerys, a woman from modern society, had to admit that their architectural prowess was unparalleled.
Before entering the pyramid, she had imagined its interior stone halls would be dark, damp, foul-smelling, cramped, and filthy.
To her surprise, the top-floor reception hall spanned a vast 200 square meters. Massive stone pillars supported a ceiling adorned with vibrant paintings. The four sloping walls were punctuated by bright glass windows, and gentle breezes flowed into the hall through hidden vents, carrying the fragrance of flowers and fruit from the upper courtyard.
Cool, fresh, luminous, magnificent, and immaculate—this was a splendid palace!
At the head of the room, eight burly, obese Ghis men sat in a row of massive wooden chairs. They all shared the same amber skin, broad noses, dark eyes, and upright, black-red hair. For a moment, Daenerys thought her eyes were playing tricks on her, imagining Krazny had used some kind of Shadow Clone Jutsu.
Fortunately, their togas were distinct.
In Astapor, only free men were permitted to wear togas.
Togas were also fashionable among the Ghis in Meereen and Keya Yuan. In Quells, women wore a variant known as the "Quells toga."
The Quells toga was like a sleeveless dress with the fabric strap cut off one shoulder. The Ghis toga, however, was more of a ceremonial accessory than a garment—the most ornate fabric was draped over one shoulder, with one hand holding the hem secured at the opposite hip. It had to be held up constantly to prevent it from slipping off.
The tassels on the togas denoted social status.
In the shaded hall, the eight Good Masters were assembled. Grazdan, the most senior and the host of the gathering, wore tassels of large white pearls. Krazny and four others wore gold-threaded tassels, while the slave owners seated on the sides wore togas with silver-threaded tassels.
With Missandei whispering reminders by her side, Daenerys finally finished greeting the eight merchants one by one.
Grazdan had six servants standing behind him; the other Good Masters each had two or three attendants.
After the greetings, Grazdan's servants brought over two purplewood chairs for Daenerys—half the height of the Good Masters' chairs.
Daenerys's party was large: Whitebeard, Bevos, Jorah, three Bloodriders, Jhiqui, Irri, and Euron. Doria and Quelo had stayed on the ship to guard the three dragons.
"Your Majesty," Missandei whispered, "the Good Master says the other chair is for Ser Euron."
The young girl was terrified of Euron, whose face was covered in burn scars. She didn't even dare to look him in the eye, yet the Crow's Eye offered her a "wickedly charming" smile.
Once they were seated, Grazdan asked in somewhat awkward Common Tongue, "Westerosi, why do you wish to purchase so many Unsullied? Besides the 8,600 fully trained Unsullied, there are still 5,000 eunuchs who have not yet passed their trials!"
"Good Master, do you know the current situation in Westeros?" Daenerys asked in return.
"I have heard it is in chaos, with several kings fighting over a spiked iron chair," Grazdan sneered.
"Any one of them has at least ten thousand warriors. And the wealth of Tywin Lannister is known even to the Quells—he once lent the Iron Throne three million gold dragons."
"Wow, really? Three million gold dragons? That's almost ten million gold coins! You could buy tens of thousands of Unsullied with that."
"It must be true. I've heard that Duke Tywin even shits gold."
"Who knew those Western barbarians were so rich?"
The opulent Good Masters were also shocked, and they began to whisper among themselves.
Daenerys swept her gaze across the gathered Good Masters and said, "Do you all understand now? My enemies are too powerful. Not only 8,600 Unsullied, but even twenty thousand more would not guarantee I could reclaim my kingdom."
"In other words, it is not that I wish to buy thirteen thousand six hundred eunuch soldiers, but that you only have thirteen thousand six hundred soldiers to sell me."
Her words were so irrefutable that all eight Good Masters fell silent.
Given their own arrogance, they still dared not claim that eight thousand Unsullied could sweep across the Seven Kingdoms.
They knew it was simply impossible.
"We cannot sell boys who have not completed their training," the Grazdan with silver tassels on the right suddenly said to the others.
"We are slave traders," a fat Grazdan with golden tassels retorted. "As long as a customer pays, why should we not sell?"
A third Grazdan sneered, "They have not yet killed infants. They are not yet Unsullied. If they perform poorly on the battlefield in the future, it will surely damage our reputation.
"Moreover, she is not our only buyer. Many others are waiting for their shipments. The training cycle for the Unsullied is at least ten years. If we sell them all, Astapor will face a ten-year vacancy.
"Haha, ten years! After ten years, the world might well forget that such a thing as the Unsullied ever existed."
Seeing the Grazdan with pearl tassels hesitate, Daenerys immediately spoke up loudly, "Good Masters, I wish to ask you one thing."
"What is it?" Kraznyk asked.
"Am I the largest customer in the history of Astapor?"
"Well, no," Grazdan of the Pearl Tassel said after a moment's thought. "Roughly two thousand years ago, Valyria and the Loynar fought a war of annihilation over a trade dispute.
In the early stages of the war, the arrogant Valyrians underestimated the Loynar, sending only a handful of dragonlords to deal with them.
But the Loynar leader, Prince Gelin, had amassed a massive army of 250,000 men.
Accompanied by countless powerful water wizards, they annihilated Valyria's hundred thousand-strong army and even shot down several dragons.
Because of the water wizards, the dragons' fire could not harm the Loynar.
Worse still, the water wizards summoned a great flood on the River Rhoyne, drowning Vylaronthos—a great Valyrian Freehold fortress—and killing hundreds of thousands of its inhabitants.
With Prince Gelin's army at their gates, the people of Valantis were terrified. They immediately ordered all the Unsullied we had—a full thirty thousand."
Daenerys was so captivated by the story that she forgot her original purpose. "And the thirty thousand Unsullied failed to defend Valantis?" she asked curiously.
*If they had succeeded,* she thought, *these slave traders wouldn't be constantly bragging about the 'three thousand Unsullied who defended Qohor.'*
After all, 250,000 Loynar soldiers and water wizards casting forbidden water magic were far more formidable than twenty thousand savage and backward horsemen.
The Ghis slave owner rolled her eyes at Daenerys and said coolly, "If we fail, would Valantis even exist today? Valyria struck, sending three hundred dragons to blot out the sun. I heard even the River Rhoyne was boiled dry by their dragonfire. How could water wizards have possibly stood a chance?"
*So, in that great war of gods and demons, the Unsullied were just cannon fodder.*
*And in the White Walker war from 'Game of Thrones,' they were cannon fodder again.*
"Cough, I must be the biggest customer of Unsullied in the last thousand years, right?" Daenerys asked.
"So what?"
"The whole world will be watching the outcome of my campaign. If I fail to reclaim my throne because I lacked enough soldiers and the Unsullied were swept away by the knights of Westeros, how do you think everyone else will see this?"
"This..." The Good Masters' expressions shifted again as an ominous thought struck them: if Daenerys failed, the resulting blow to their reputation would be far worse than the story of "3,000 Unsullied Defending Qohor" could ever repair.
"Think about it again, gentlemen," Daenerys urged. "If I succeed in reclaiming my throne, won't the world sing the tale of how 'fewer than ten thousand Unsullied achieved unparalleled glory for all eternity'?"
"This—" The Good Masters' expressions shifted again as a wonderful idea took root in their minds: Once Daenerys succeeded, the tale of "3,000 Unsullied Defending Qohor" could be retired. From then on, they would tell everyone the epic story of "13,000 Unsullied Conquering the Seven Kingdoms."
"I have dragons, so my chances of success are high," Daenerys said with a smile. "But if the Unsullied are too few or too inconspicuous, people will think the dragons were the only key to my victory."
"Very well!" Grazdan exchanged glances with his seven colleagues before finally declaring, "As long as you can pay the price, you shall have all the eunuchs of Astapor."
"Ser Euron," Daenerys said, leaning back in her chair and gesturing casually, "it's your turn."
Euron launched into a detailed account, recounting how he navigated the Sea of Smoke, encountered curses, located the Governor's Castle, found the dragon eggs and armor, lost his way in an accident, and ultimately broke through the Stormwall.
Throughout his tale, the Good Masters interrupted frequently to ask about the sailing routes, the city of Tirry, and other details. Euron answered each question in turn.
He had truly visited the ruins of Valyria; this was no bluff. No matter how the Good Masters pressed him, he provided answers that left them both satisfied and awestruck.
"I swear by the Drowned God and House Greyjoy that the map I have drawn is absolutely true," Euron declared solemnly to the Good Masters.
"You're a pirate. Does an oath even mean anything to you?" someone scoffed.
Daenerys explained, "You may not understand the tenets of the Drowned God. Legend says he created the Ironborn specifically to reave and pillage. To earn wealth through legitimate means instead of raiding would be to defy the Old Way and the will of their god."
"You've certainly done your homework," Euron remarked, a strange glint flashing in his blue right eye.
Daenerys was right about everything, but she had overlooked one crucial detail.
Euron was a Reaver!
Though he was Ironborn, he did not worship the Drowned God. Instead, he had repeatedly offered blood sacrifices to the Drowned God's enemy—the Storm God!
Euron's ability to navigate the Sea of Smoke, his immunity to curses, and his passage through the Stormwall were all thanks to the massive blood sacrifices he had made to the Storm God.
In this fantasy world, blood sacrifice was no mere superstition.
If Daenerys had been an expert in heraldry and Ironborn culture, she might have spotted the clues in Euron's personal sigil.
His personal crest featured a black iron crown held aloft by two ravens, with a black-pupiled, red-eyed eye beneath it.
The Storm God's most prominent feature was his two raven servants. Not only did Euron bear the raven sigil, but his nickname was "Crow's Eye."
The Good Masters deliberated for another half hour before Grazdan finally spoke. "A sea map to the Valyrian ruins is indeed worth 1,000 Unsullied and 5,000 Eunuch Apprentices. But I must have a guarantee—that this information remains exclusively between us. If you were to sell this map in every city-state you visited, we would be ruined!"
If the map were genuine, not just 1,000 Unsullied and 5,000 Eunuch Apprentices, but 20,000 Unsullied would be a fair price. A single Valyrian steel sword would recoup the entire investment.
"Good Master, your concerns are well-founded. I swear by the honor of the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and House Targaryen that I will never sell this map again."
Grazdan glanced at the smiling Euron, then nodded solemnly. "Deal!"
The others repeated the words after Pearl Tassel Grazdan: "Deal!"
"Deal!"
Eight "deals" in all.
Before they departed, Kraznys mo Nakloz pointed to Missandei. "This clever little slave is yours. She will teach the Unsullied your language."
Missandei translated for Daenerys: "Your Majesty, the Good Master has given me to you."
"Very well. You are mine now. Come with me," Daenerys said, nodding as she prepared to leave.
"Wait."
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