"Among everyone in the pyramid, you were the first to rise up?" Daenerys asked the honest-looking Cleon.
Cleon pulled a sheepskin scroll from his belt and grinned ingratiatingly.
"I found this."
"You can read?"
"I've been a slave since birth, Your Grace. I can't read. But scholars can. Put a knife to their throat, and they'll tell you anything and do anything."
He pointed behind him at the burly slaves.
"Through the window, I saw your army outside the city and your dragon. So I rallied the kitchen hands to answer the Mother of Dragons' call. We used cleavers and butcher knives to kill the guards of Good Master Grazdan's household."
Daenerys nodded.
"I will declare every slave free. Those who made outstanding contributions during the uprising will also be rewarded. Since you're the first to ask me for a reward, you'll be the first to receive one. Tell me—what do you want? Don't be afraid. You're a free man now, free to speak your mind."
"Really?" Cleon's eyes lit up.
"Of course."
After thinking for a moment, the butcher asked,
"Your Grace intends to march north next, to liberate Yunkai and Meereen, doesn't she? And after that... you'll return to Westeros?"
"Most likely."
The pork butcher's eyes gleamed.
"Then I wish to swear my loyalty to Queen Daenerys, just as the great lords of the Seven Kingdoms serve their king. Let me govern a land in your name."
In other words...
He wanted Astapor.
At first glance, it sounded outrageously presumptuous, but in truth it fit the customs of this feudal world—especially those of Westeros.
The Targaryens directly ruled only the Crownlands, the smallest of the Seven Kingdoms. Richer regions like the Reach, the Riverlands, and the Vale enjoyed tremendous autonomy.
Even the Greyjoys of the Iron Islands possessed near-independent authority. It wasn't uncommon for great lords to rebel against the Iron Throne, and in most cases the loyalty of their bannermen lay first with their own lord rather than the king—unless the king happened to possess dragons.
If Daenerys truly left Slaver's Bay one day, she'd almost certainly leave trusted governors—or even kings—to rule the liberated cities in her stead.
That was why, despite their obvious displeasure, neither Whitebeard nor Jorah rebuked Cleon.
"Cleon," Daenerys said with a smile, "I admire your ambition."
"But you should understand that beneath a duke are marquesses, counts, landed knights, knights, and finally free citizens."
She paused, letting the meaning sink in.
"If you want to reach the top of the pyramid, you have to climb it one step at a time."
"Of course..." she added with a playful smile, "there's another way. You can fly straight to the summit."
"Like me."
"I have dragons."
"I don't need the stairs."
Cleon's expression stiffened.
"So... I can only become a knight?"
Whitebeard frowned even harder.
"A knight represents more than status in Westeros, Princess. A knight is supposed to embody honor and virtue. Please consider your decision carefully."
Cleon shot the old man a murderous sideways glance.
Both Whitebeard and Jorah noticed it immediately.
Even Daenerys, inexperienced as she was, caught the killing intent.
This butcher... is dangerous.
"Cleon, don't blame Ser Barristan for being blunt."
She continued,
"I can declare that, as the first slave to rise up in the Great Pyramid, you've demonstrated noble character worthy of knighthood."
"But being a knight also requires martial skill—the ability to fight on horseback in armor."
"So here's my decision."
"You captured the Great Pyramid and rendered distinguished service."
"I therefore grant you the rank of landed knight, half a step above an ordinary knight."
"Will you accept?"
A smile finally spread across Cleon's stiff face.
"I gladly accept!"
Ironically, Cleon's request for a title solved one of Daenerys's biggest political problems.
It marked the destruction of Astapor's old political order and the birth of an entirely new system centered on Queen Daenerys herself.
In effect, Cleon had unintentionally helped her launch a political reform.
It would resemble Westeros's feudal system...
...but with plenty of ideas borrowed from another civilization.
Daenerys led Cleon onto the wooden platform in the center of Punishment Square.
The crucified slaves still hung there.
Under the blazing sun, green flies buzzed around rotting flesh while fat white maggots writhed through the wounds. A few victims, not yet fully dead, twitched unconsciously.
The air reeked of decay.
Suppressing her nausea, Daenerys addressed the gathering slaves.
"Look at them."
"This is what slavery is."
"To have no control over your own life. No dignity. No right to improve yourself."
"This is the kind of world we are here to end."
"In this uprising, the butcher Cleon was among the very first to answer my call."
"His yearning for freedom inspired him to make the righteous choice—to abolish slavery."
"He has become an example for every slave in the world who still wears chains on body or soul."
"He liberated not only himself, but also the Great Pyramid, leading two thousand slaves to overthrow Astapor's greatest slave-owning family."
"So when he asked me for a title..."
"I agreed."
"Today, before all of you..."
"Cleon shall become the first man to rise from slave to noble in a single day."
Silence fell over the crowd of more than ten thousand slaves.
Their expressions were complicated as they watched the excited butcher wave proudly.
"Cleon," Daenerys whispered, "do you know the ceremony?"
"A little."
She nodded.
Then raised her voice.
"Cleon!"
The butcher hurriedly knelt before her.
"I swear my loyalty to Queen Daenerys!"
With a ringing sound, she drew her sword and rested its point on his shoulder.
"Will you devote your life to the liberation of slaves?"
That wasn't the oath he'd been taught...
Before he could think further, the blade nicked his neck.
He felt a sharp sting.
Looking up to see Daenerys's impatient gaze, he shouted,
"I will!"
She shifted the sword slightly.
"Will you become the vanguard of the slave liberation movement?"
"I will!"
"Will you become the representative of the slave army?"
"I will!"
"Excellent."
"I acknowledge your resolve, Ser."
She moved the blood-tipped blade to his other shoulder.
"I hereby grant you the title Ser Chainbreaker."
"If you wish, you may even take Chainbreaker as your family name."
"Now..."
"With your butcher's knife..."
"Cut the chains beneath the Harpy's claws."
The Harpy was the symbol of Astapor.
For generations Cleon's family had been slaves and possessed no surname.
Taking his title as his family name suited Daenerys's plans perfectly.
"I, Cleon Chainbreaker..."
"...in the name of Ser Chainbreaker..."
"...swear to protect this oath with my life!"
The butcher grinned from ear to ear.
Truthfully, although he'd asked for the Duchy of Astapor, he hadn't expected to receive it.
After all, Daenerys commanded dragons and the Unsullied.
Yunkai and Meereen hadn't even been conquered yet.
What he truly wanted was status.
As the only knight among the former slaves, he considered himself second only to the queen herself.
For now...
He was more than satisfied.
"Cheer for Ser Chainbreaker!" Daenerys declared, sheathing her sword and beginning to clap.
"Long live Queen Daenerys!"
"Long live the Mother of Dragons!"
"Ser Chainbreaker! Ser Chainbreaker!"
The square erupted into cheers, applause, stomping feet, and the clatter of chains.
After the celebration quieted, Daenerys pointed toward the crucified slaves.
"Ser Chainbreaker."
"Cut away their chains for me."
"At once!"
To thunderous applause, the newly made knight drew his butcher's knife and expertly severed the ropes, nails, and bindings holding the slaves to the crosses.
His knife work was astonishingly swift.
The finest butcher in Astapor indeed.
Daenerys knelt beside each victim personally.
One by one she removed their iron collars.
Every time she took one off, she raised it high for all to see before throwing it onto the ground.
"I declare you free."
"May your identity as free people return to the gods."
By the time she had finished with more than a dozen bodies, her white hands were stained with blood, rotten flesh, and wriggling maggots.
Below the platform, the slaves burst into tears.
"Mother of Dragons!"
"Mother of Dragons!"
Gradually another cry replaced it.
"Mhysa!"
"Mhysa!"
"Mhysa!"
In Old Ghiscari, Mhysa meant Mother.
The overwhelming emotion of the crowd moved even Daenerys herself.
She sighed inwardly.
It's not enough to conquer the world or build an everlasting dynasty.
I should leave this world better than I found it.
Abolishing slavery... will be one of my goals.
At that moment, her resolve transformed into an unshakable conviction.
She patted the shoulder of her newest knight.
"Ser Chainbreaker."
"I have an honorable mission for you."
"Take your former kitchen companions and persuade the other pyramids to surrender."
"You don't need to fight personally."
"You may recruit a personal guard of one hundred men."
Looking down at the blood and grime staining his shoulder, Cleon twitched slightly.
"As you command."
Daenerys smiled knowingly.
"Remember."
"Titles are earned through merit."
The implication couldn't have been clearer.
Cleon's eyes shone.
"I guarantee I won't fail!"
With the ambitious Ser Chainbreaker handling the dirty work, Daenerys returned to her own public performance.
She delivered a heartfelt speech condemning slavery and expressing sympathy for those who had suffered under it.
Then, just as she had done with the Dothraki slaves and the Unsullied, she made one thing clear:
Freedom had to be earned.
The slaves who had fought in the uprising had already paid for it with blood.
As Daenerys walked past them, Unsullied soldiers removed their chains and slave collars.
"You have won your freedom with your own hands and your own courage," she declared.
Around five thousand of the rebel slaves had survived the fighting and were brought to the square by the Unsullied.
Meanwhile, another ten to twenty thousand slaves gathered to watch after their masters no longer dared imprison them.
As for those who had stayed on the sidelines and simply waited to enjoy the victory...
Daenerys did not punish them.
She merely required them—just as she had once required of the Unsullied—to shout:
"I want freedom!"
Nearly everyone did.
Nearly.
Which meant...
Some people still didn't want to become free.
-----------------------
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