me.
Find them, so that I might teach the Harpy’s Sons what it means to wake the
dragon.”
Grey Worm saluted her. His Unsullied closed the shroud once
more, lifted the dead man onto their shoulders, and bore him from the hall. Ser
Barristan Selmy remained behind. His hair was white, and there were crow’s-feet
at the corners of his pale blue eyes. Yet his back was still unbent, and the
years had not yet robbed him of his skill at arms. “Your Grace,” he said, “I
fear your eunuchs are ill suited for the tasks you set them.”
Dany settled on her bench and wrapped her pelt about her
shoulders once again. “The Unsullied are my finest warriors.”
“Soldiers, not warriors, if it please Your Grace. They were
made for the battlefield, to stand shoulder to shoulder behind their shields
with their spears thrust out before them. Their training teaches them to obey,
fearlessly, perfectly, without thought or hesitation … not to unravel
secrets or ask questions.”
“Would knights serve me any better?” Selmy was training
knights for her, teaching the sons of slaves to fight with lance and longsword
in the Westerosi fashion … but what good would lances do against
cowards who killed from the shadows?
“Not in this,” the old man admitted. “And Your Grace has no
knights, save me. It will be years before the boys are ready.”
“Then who, if not Unsullied? Dothraki would be even worse.”
Dothraki fought from horseback. Mounted men were of more use in open fields and
hills than in the narrow streets and alleys of the city. Beyond Meereen’s walls
of many-colored brick, Dany’s rule was tenuous at best. Thousands of slaves
still toiled on vast estates in the hills, growing wheat and olives, herding
sheep and goats, and mining salt and copper. Meereen’s storehouses held ample
supplies of grain, oil, olives, dried fruit, and salted meat, but the stores
were dwindling. So Dany had dispatched her tiny
khalasar
to
subdue the hinterlands, under the command of her three bloodriders, whilst
Brown Ben Plumm took his Second Sons south to guard against Yunkish incursions.
The most crucial task of all she had entrusted to Daario
Naharis, glib-tongued Daario with his gold tooth and trident beard, smiling his
wicked smile through purple whiskers. Beyond the eastern hills was a range of
rounded sandstone mountains, the Khyzai Pass, and Lhazar. If Daario could
convince the Lhazarene to reopen the overland trade routes, grains could be
brought down the river or over the hills at need … but the Lamb Men
had no reason to love Meereen. “When the Stormcrows return from Lhazar, perhaps
I can use them in the streets,” she told Ser Barristan, “but until then I have
only the Unsullied.” Dany rose. “You must excuse me, ser. The petitioners will
soon be at my gates. I must don my floppy ears and become their queen again.
Summon Reznak and the Shavepate, I’ll see them when I’m dressed.”
“As Your Grace commands.” Selmy bowed.
The Great Pyramid shouldered eight hundred feet into the
sky, from its huge square base to the lofty apex where the queen kept her
private chambers, surrounded by greenery and fragrant pools. As a cool blue
dawn broke over the city, Dany walked out onto the terrace. To the west
sunlight blazed off the golden domes of the Temple of the Graces, and etched
deep shadows behind the stepped pyramids of the mighty.
In some of those
pyramids, the Sons of the Harpy are plotting new murders even now, and I am
powerless to stop them
.
Viserion sensed her disquiet. The white dragon lay coiled
around a pear tree, his head resting on his tail. When Dany passed his eyes
came open, two pools of molten gold. His horns were gold as well, and the
scales that ran down his back from head to tail. “You’re lazy,” she told him,
scratching under his jaw. His scales were hot to the touch, like armor left too
long in the sun.
Dragons are fire made flesh
. She had read that
in one of the books Ser Jorah had
Find them, so that I might teach the Harpy’s Sons what it means to wake the
dragon.”
Grey Worm saluted her. His Unsullied closed the shroud once
more, lifted the dead man onto their shoulders, and bore him from the hall. Ser
Barristan Selmy remained behind. His hair was white, and there were crow’s-feet
at the corners of his pale blue eyes. Yet his back was still unbent, and the
years had not yet robbed him of his skill at arms. “Your Grace,” he said, “I
fear your eunuchs are ill suited for the tasks you set them.”
Dany settled on her bench and wrapped her pelt about her
shoulders once again. “The Unsullied are my finest warriors.”
“Soldiers, not warriors, if it please Your Grace. They were
made for the battlefield, to stand shoulder to shoulder behind their shields
with their spears thrust out before them. Their training teaches them to obey,
fearlessly, perfectly, without thought or hesitation … not to unravel
secrets or ask questions.”
“Would knights serve me any better?” Selmy was training
knights for her, teaching the sons of slaves to fight with lance and longsword
in the Westerosi fashion … but what good would lances do against
cowards who killed from the shadows?
“Not in this,” the old man admitted. “And Your Grace has no
knights, save me. It will be years before the boys are ready.”
“Then who, if not Unsullied? Dothraki would be even worse.”
Dothraki fought from horseback. Mounted men were of more use in open fields and
hills than in the narrow streets and alleys of the city. Beyond Meereen’s walls
of many-colored brick, Dany’s rule was tenuous at best. Thousands of slaves
still toiled on vast estates in the hills, growing wheat and olives, herding
sheep and goats, and mining salt and copper. Meereen’s storehouses held ample
supplies of grain, oil, olives, dried fruit, and salted meat, but the stores
were dwindling. So Dany had dispatched her tiny
khalasar
to
subdue the hinterlands, under the command of her three bloodriders, whilst
Brown Ben Plumm took his Second Sons south to guard against Yunkish incursions.
The most crucial task of all she had entrusted to Daario
Naharis, glib-tongued Daario with his gold tooth and trident beard, smiling his
wicked smile through purple whiskers. Beyond the eastern hills was a range of
rounded sandstone mountains, the Khyzai Pass, and Lhazar. If Daario could
convince the Lhazarene to reopen the overland trade routes, grains could be
brought down the river or over the hills at need … but the Lamb Men
had no reason to love Meereen. “When the Stormcrows return from Lhazar, perhaps
I can use them in the streets,” she told Ser Barristan, “but until then I have
only the Unsullied.” Dany rose. “You must excuse me, ser. The petitioners will
soon be at my gates. I must don my floppy ears and become their queen again.
Summon Reznak and the Shavepate, I’ll see them when I’m dressed.”
“As Your Grace commands.” Selmy bowed.
The Great Pyramid shouldered eight hundred feet into the
sky, from its huge square base to the lofty apex where the queen kept her
private chambers, surrounded by greenery and fragrant pools. As a cool blue
dawn broke over the city, Dany walked out onto the terrace. To the west
sunlight blazed off the golden domes of the Temple of the Graces, and etched
deep shadows behind the stepped pyramids of the mighty.
In some of those
pyramids, the Sons of the Harpy are plotting new murders even now, and I am
powerless to stop them
.
Viserion sensed her disquiet. The white dragon lay coiled
around a pear tree, his head resting on his tail. When Dany passed his eyes
came open, two pools of molten gold. His horns were gold as well, and the
scales that ran down his back from head to tail. “You’re lazy,” she told him,
scratching under his jaw. His scales were hot to the touch, like armor left too
long in the sun.
Dragons are fire made flesh
. She had read that
in one of the books Ser Jorah had
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