Game of Thrones: Second Son of House Targaryen

Chapter 313: The Liberation of the Unsullied IV

Both the slave owners of Astapor and Viserys were eager to close the deal as quickly as possible. No matter what price they offered, Viserys was prepared to accept, knowing the situation demanded it. But for the slave owners, the stakes were higher, and they had much more to consider.

"He might not think we’re planning anything yet, but if this happens too smoothly, he’ll grow suspicious," Tall Grazdan murmured during their discussion. "If we set the price too low, it’ll definitely raise red flags. Let’s just quote the fool the original price."

As they discussed how to price the Unsullied, it became clear that they weren’t really negotiating. Their goal was to find a figure that wouldn’t make Viserys suspicious. A high price might provoke his anger; too low, and it would make him wonder what they were hiding—especially after Missandei’s unexpected warning.

Though no one spoke it aloud, they all knew Viserys was already growing wary.

In the end, the slave owners settled on a calculated compromise. They took into account Missandei’s actions and the fact that Viserys was the biggest buyer of Unsullied in history. Fully trained Unsullied would be sold at 30% of their original price, while the trainees would go for 50%.

If this had been a genuine deal, most of the slave owners would have felt their hearts bleed. But even though the sale was a farce, when Viserys suggested paying in installments, a ripple of unease still passed through the group.

"Your Grace," Kraznys began hesitantly, "perhaps the Iron Bank could provide a loan? I’m sure they’d be eager to serve a royal family. It’s not that we object to your plan, but..." He paused, thinking better of his words. He had nearly mentioned the recent dip in the slave market—a downturn largely caused by Viserys’s reforms. Instead, he quickly corrected himself: "Rather, there have been some minor financial difficulties in Slaver’s Bay..."

Before he could finish, Viserys waved his hand, signaling his men. They brought out several large boxes, which were opened to reveal a dazzling collection of dragon scales in a spectrum of colors.

The slave owners’ eyes widened as they beheld the treasure before them. Red, blue, silver, yellow, green—each scale shimmered like a precious gemstone, radiating a mesmerizing glow. These scales were even larger and more vibrant than the ones Viserys had gifted Pree earlier.

Sometimes, Viserys felt as though he had discovered seven gold mines rather than raising seven dragons. The dragons grew rapidly, shedding scales as they did, and so he had people follow them, gathering the valuable remnants. In fact, the dragon scale business had nearly become its own industry in Tyrosh.

"You know the value of dragon scales," Viserys said smoothly. "I’ll use these to offset some of the costs, and the rest will be delivered to you in due course."

While the slave owners marveled at the dragon scales, their true desire lay elsewhere: the dragons themselves. This entire negotiation, the bargaining and haggling, was nothing but a charade. They knew it, and so did Viserys.

After a brief exchange of private words among the slave owners, Kraznys raised his hand and said, "Deal."

Following his lead, The 'Fat,' 'Pointy Beard,' and 'Tall' Grazdan all raised their hands in unison, echoing, "Deal."

An older Good Master, draped in a pearl-embellished toga, added his voice, "Deal."

One by one, the eight most powerful Good Masters of Astapor—relieved and nearly jubilant—sealed their agreement with Viserys.

"Your Grace Viserys," Kraznys said with a sly smile, "the 19,000 Unsullied in Plaza of Pride await your inspection. Would you like to review your new army?"

"Of course," Viserys replied, managing to suppress his own excitement. If I don’t inspect them, how can I execute the plan to wipe out the slave owners? he thought, masking his true intentions behind a calm exterior.

The slave owners breathed a collective sigh of relief. All that remained was to lure Viserys fully into the city, and their plot would unfold without a hitch.

However, as Viserys prepared to bring nearly a thousand men from his entourage into Astapor, the slave owners grew visibly uneasy.

"That young slave," Regis remarked with conviction, "is the second person in Slaver’s Bay to warn Your Grace. You are responsible for the Nine Free Cities and the Seven Kingdoms. A little caution never hurts."

Reluctantly, the slave owners agreed, convinced that there was no real danger. Surely, they thought, Viserys wouldn't be reckless enough to kill them all within Astapor’s walls. No one would be so foolish as to defy all of Slaver’s Bay inside the city.

With that, on the eighth day after his arrival at the port, Viserys finally entered Astapor.

As he crossed into the city, a long, mournful horn echoed through the streets, a signal that reverberated throughout the city.

In the center of the Plaza of Punishment, Missandei lay weakly inside a large cage. For seven or eight days, the slave owners had only tossed her scraps of rotten food. Yet even with that meager sustenance, she had barely touched it. Her spirit was crushed, and she had lost the will to eat.

The greatest sorrow, it seemed, was not physical suffering but losing hope entirely.

However, when the low, mournful horn echoed through the city, she twitched involuntarily and then shot upright, startling the guard who had been lazily watching her.

Dyman, a slave loyal to Viserys, was stationed near the cage. Both Viserys and the slave owners had agreed to post guards around Missandei, each trying to prove they were acting in good faith—and to ensure no one interfered with her fate. Dyman had been placed in charge after Young Connington was reassigned to protect Dany.

Recognizing Dyman as one of Viserys’s men, Missandei suddenly called out to him, her voice strained but urgent. "Has the silver-haired king entered the city?" she cried, once in Valyrian and again in the Common Tongue.

Dyman, startled by her frantic tone, nodded silently.

"Quick! Get him out of the city! The Good Masters plan to kill him—hurry!" she screamed, her voice piercing the still air.

Dyman had been present when Viserys met with the slave owners. He had also witnessed Missandei's desperate warnings before, but he didn’t fully understand her motives. His only instruction had been to watch over her, so he remained impassive, taking no action.

"Please—save your king! They will kill him!" Missandei’s voice cracked with desperation, but Dyman remained unmoved.

"Shut it, or I’ll shut it for you!" the Astapor guard barked, brandishing a whip to silence her.

Missandei’s chest heaved as she realized no one was going to help. No matter how much she pleaded, Dyman wasn’t going to intervene. Her heart sank as the weight of hopelessness pressed down on her once more.

The hero who could have saved the slaves is going to die here, in this cruel place, she thought, despairing as she slumped back against the bars of the cage.

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