Chapter 206 Too Many Good Lords
"I have other conditions. If you agree to them, I will accept this deal," Ian continued.
"Name them."
"I want the eighty-six hundred Unsullied you have in stock, effective immediately. For the next two years, I will borrow Astapor's barracks to station them. Their food and supplies will be provided by Astapor. I will, of course, pay for the grain."
"This is against the rules," Kraznys hesitated.
"The rules are not important. If you were to keep the Unsullied and sell them to me two years from now, you would still be responsible for their room and board for those two years, would you not? Under my proposal, you are at least spared the cost of their upkeep."
"Ah..." Kraznys was startled. After a moment's thought, he realized it was so. "But... why the hurry to take possession of the Unsullied now? If you plan to station them in Astapor anyway, would it not be more convenient to take delivery of them all at once in two years?"
"I don't plan to wait here idly for two years," Ian said, shaking his head. "During this time, I intend to lead them into Lhazar to the north, to train them and capture slaves."
"Why capture slaves?"
"That concerns my second request. I want to build a shipyard and other factories on the east bank of the Worm River. I require the right to recruit laborers from the villages along the riverbank, and permission to log the southern mountains." Ian held up two fingers. "I will build my own fleet... which will, of course, dock in Astapor's harbor."
The day before, after his fleet had arrived, Ian had immediately used his falcon to survey the city of Astapor and its surrounding terrain and population.
Astapor was situated at the mouth of the Worm River, on its western bank. It faced the sea to the north, a small plain across the river to the east, and the primeval Ghiscari Mountains to the southwest.
The city's population was between sixty and eighty thousand, two-thirds of whom, he had been told, were slaves. East of the city, a number of villages dotted both sides of the Worm River. Ian's initial estimate put their total population between eighty and one hundred and twenty thousand, more than half of whom were serfs.
The farmland outside the city could not produce enough to feed Astapor, leaving the city heavily dependent on imported food.
To the north, the city opened to its port, unprotected by any wall. A fleet attacking from the sea would find the city essentially defenseless. Its other three sides were equally vulnerable; the walls were short and thin, entirely lacking in defensive fortifications.
Perhaps the Good Masters subscribed to the famous Spartan saying: the warriors *are* the city's strongest walls. With their Unsullied, the Astapori had never paid much mind to the city's defenses.
Of course, another reason for their complacency was likely that Astapor itself possessed little of value, making it an unattractive target for any would-be conqueror.
This was precisely why Ian had judged Astapor to be worthless.
The city lacked resources, lacked population, lacked defenses, and its food supply could be easily cut off. Though the mountains to its south were undeveloped and held immense economic potential, that potential could not be converted into value without the people and time needed for clearing the land.
Considering that turning around and using the Unsullied to conquer Astapor would greatly damage his credibility and arouse the vigilance of the other two cities in Slaver's Bay, Ian had ultimately abandoned the idea of making Astapor his primary base.
In Slaver's Bay, only Meereen qualified as the 'core of control' that Ian sought.
Therefore, his best option before attempting to take Meereen was to secure the right to garrison his troops in Astapor while acquiring development rights to the valuable land nearby. This way, he would not earn a reputation for treachery or risk the immediate hostility of Yunkai and Meereen, yet he could still exploit Astapor's mature training system for the Unsullied.
"Those are industries outside our purview. I cannot make such decisions on behalf of the other Good Masters." This time, Kraznys shook his head without hesitation. He could make the final call on stationing the delivered Unsullied in Astapor, but he could not persuade the other Good Masters to agree to Ian's request for shipyards and factories.
"I insist on my terms," Ian said firmly. "If you cannot convince the other Good Masters, then my only alternative is to purchase the Unsullied with gold and leave Astapor for good."
"This..." Kraznys faltered, his eyes flicking to Ian's dragon. Finally, he gritted his teeth. "Very well. I will try to convince them."
"I will await your news."
After returning to the *Breeze's Kiss*, Celia escorted Daenerys back to her room before finding Ian. She had accompanied him to the Plaza of Pride disguised as Daenerys's handmaiden and had not uttered a single word the entire time.
"Will they accept?" Celia asked.
"No," Ian replied decisively.
"Why? With the dragons and the art of training them combined, could the Good Masters of Astapor truly resist such a temptation? I would think that even if your requests harm the interests of some of them, they would not forsake this opportunity to acquire a dragon."
"Of course they can't resist the temptation," Ian shrugged. "But the question is, who gets to be the Dragon King?"
"Isn't it...?" Celia started, then froze. Kraznys mo Nakloz was the Good Master with the most Unsullied in Astapor and the most powerful. But that did not mean the other Masters were willing to sacrifice their own interests to grant *him* the chance to become the Dragon King. It was not even certain they wouldn't actively interfere.
"So your actions today were intended to sow discord between Kraznys mo Nakloz and the other Good Masters?" Celia grasped Ian's intent at once. "When you dangle a dragon before him, only for him to lose it due to the interference of the other Masters, his feelings for his colleagues will curdle into resentment."
"Eight Good Masters are too many for Astapor," Ian said, not elaborating on his next steps. Instead, he changed the subject. "How are Daenerys's spirits?"
"Very low. Crushed," Celia said, then paused. "To be honest, I don't understand why you insisted she accompany you today. I told you clearly I could convince her to remain on the ship."
"Furthermore," Celia continued, "even if you brought her, you could have prevented the slaver from speaking of killing infants and puppies. We already possess that information; you did not need to have them repeat it."
"Then why do you think I did it?" Ian asked with a smile.
"Are you provoking her?"
"You see?" Ian said. "If you're willing to think, the answer is always there."
Chapter 207 Conditions are not mature
"An experience like that is bound to make Daenerys hate slavery," Celia said with a frown. "Even if she isn't immediately thinking of abolition, the seed has been planted. Do you intend to pursue abolition as well?" She immediately shook her head. "That's impossible. Abolishing slavery is equivalent to declaring war on Yunkai, Meereen, Volantis, New Ghis, Qarth, and the entire Jade Sea all at once. You wouldn't do something so foolish."
"Then what is my plan?" Ian asked.
Celia thought for a long time before finally shaking her head, unable to guess.
"Don't dwell on it," Ian said, waving a hand. "Get to work. You're responsible for the banquet for the Unsullied instructors tonight and for arranging the purchase of centaur slaves from across Slaver's Bay. You have a heavy burden to bear."
***
"You said you would give me a satisfactory explanation, my lord." Daenerys sat on her chair, doing her utmost to project the majesty of a queen.
"Have you been crying?" Ian did not rush to explain. Instead, he stepped forward and reached out to gently wipe the tears from the corners of her eyes.
"I have not!" Her composure shattered in an instant. She meant to slap his hand away, but though she raised her own, she could not bring herself to strike. In the end, she simply bit his hand, a small act of defiance to vent her frustration.
Ian barely felt it; whether his skin was too thick or the girl lacked the strength to truly bite, he could not say.
"I told you I would give you an explanation," he said, withdrawing his hand without any resistance. She let go the moment he moved to pull away.
"The plight of the slaves saddens me as much as it does you," Ian said, his voice heavy with sorrow. "When I first heard of the atrocities committed by the slave masters, I wanted to cut them to pieces."
"Then why did you buy those eunuch soldiers?" Daenerys asked, her confusion deepening.
"Because I want to give them their freedom," Ian declared, his tone turning firm.
Daenerys's mouth fell open.
*That's it! That's the answer! Give them freedom!* The question that had plagued her since she stood in the Plaza of Pride—was there anything she could do for the slaves?—finally had an answer.
*Give them freedom! How noble! I should never have doubted him!*
"You'll free them after you buy them?" Daenerys demanded, her eyes wide with hope.
"No. If I merely released them, Astapor would continue to castrate countless boys every year. This deep-rooted evil would simply continue to spread, unabated."
"You want to use them to conquer Astapor and destroy the Unsullied system completely?"
"No. Even if I took Astapor, the slaves in Yunkai, in Meereen, in New Ghis, Volantis, Qarth, and all along the Jade Sea would still suffer under the lash."
"You want to abolish slavery?!" *Yes! That's what I want to do! We share the same ideal!* Daenerys cheered silently in her heart.
"Complete abolition," Ian confirmed with a nod. "But the time is not yet right. Our strength is insufficient. To free the slaves is to make an enemy of half the world. Before we have amassed enough power to shake the foundations of that world, we cannot let anyone discover our true intentions. We cannot even free a small number of them, or we will become the public enemy here, and all the slave cities will unite to besiege us."
"You mean… we can't do anything now?" Daenerys began to grasp his meaning. "We can't even liberate some of them first?"
"We are gathering our strength now," Ian said, arguing speciously. "To that end, we must make concessions. We must even appear to cater to the slavers on the surface, lulling them into a false sense of security. Only then will we have a chance to win."
"But for every second we wait, more slaves are suffering!" Daenerys felt there was something wrong with his logic, but she couldn't quite place it.
"Slaves have suffered for thousands of years," Ian said grimly. "After we succeed, there will be no more slavery, no more oppression. They, their children, and their children's children will live as free people for all time. But…"
"But?"
"But if we fail, no one will ever come to break their chains again. Not for another thousand years, perhaps not ever. If we fail because we were impatient, because we rushed for a quick and easy victory, then they will remain slaves forever."
"I…" Daenerys was stunned. She had never considered such long-term consequences.
"So… are you willing to work with me? To bury slavery in the ground and let it become the dust of history? To see a world where everyone is free and no one is oppressed?" Ian held out a hand to her.
"Yes! I believe you, Ian," Daenerys said, nodding emphatically as she placed her hand in his.
"Until that day comes," Ian said softly, "we must endure."
"Yes!" she nodded again.
*Hook, line, and sinker,* Ian thought to himself.
Giving Daenerys a powerful, shocking stimulus and then taking the lead in proposing the abolition of slavery—that was his plan to keep her stable and loyal. The timing was everything. The same words would have completely different effects depending on who said them first.
If Daenerys, after witnessing more suffering, had eventually reached her breaking point and proposed abolition herself, his response would have been very different. If he had then told her that the conditions weren't right and that they needed to be patient, no matter how he phrased it, she would have felt he was making excuses. It would have planted a thorn of doubt in their relationship.
Although Daenerys's strategic value had diminished since he had become a dragon spirit himself, and she possessed almost no real power to cause him trouble, why not solve the problem with a simple deception? He would still have to rely on her to hatch the next clutch of dragons. He was not certain he could shapeshift into a second dragon… and as his current dragon form grew, the mental strain of the transformation would only become greater.
By taking the initiative and proposing abolition before the thought had fully formed in her mind, he had made her believe it was his ideal as well. Now, when he told her the conditions were not yet mature, she would not suspect him of stalling. If Ian said the time wasn't right, she would believe the time truly wasn't right.
As for when the conditions for abolition would finally be mature… who knew? Perhaps never.
If it wasn't absolutely necessary, the abolition of slavery was not a part of his plans. He had no idea if there were other players out there, secretly waiting for him to make such a move so they could warn the slave cities and turn them against him. Therefore, not only was he not going to abolish slavery, he intended to strengthen it. He would become so enmeshed in the system that the first reaction of any slave master hearing a rumor that "Ian wants to abolish slavery" would be to crack open the messenger's skull to see if his brain had turned to water.
Of course, even if he were alone in this world, without the influence of other players, he would never make the decision to abolish slavery. Slaves of this era, if granted so-called freedom, would have no idea how to live. A truly kind-hearted ruler would find it far more practical to simply reduce their working hours and ensure they were well-fed.
The liberated slaves in the original timeline had lost their livelihoods. They followed Daenerys's army like a swarm of locusts, utterly lost. Reasonable working hours, sufficient food, and lighter punishments—that was the pragmatic solution for a "kind" man from another world.
The emancipation of slaves without a proper societal foundation was nothing more than pure, naive self-indulgence.
Chapter 208 Krazny's Conspiracy
After the brief meeting of the Good Masters concluded, Unsullied Instructor Fermor stepped into the top garden of the great pyramid belonging to the Good Master Krazny mo Nakloz.
"What did the other Good Masters say?" he asked.
"They are a pack of fools!" Krazny did not answer directly, but his anxious expression and irritable tone had already provided the answer.
"A bunch of short-sighted imbeciles!" Krazny roared again. Though two slave girls fanned him from behind, he was still sweating profusely.
"They object to the deal?"
"Yes. Three of the seven outright opposed it, and two of the others said they needed more time to consider. The only ones who supported the transaction were my old friend Grazdan Kelviz and that… that other one who fancies himself the Dragon King! Half the Unsullied trade in this city belongs to me, and *he* wants to be the Dragon King? Ridiculous!" Krazny's face was contorted with rage. "Can't they see how important the dragons are to Astapor? We will restore the Ghiscari Empire! Why would they not rally to my cause at a time like this?"
Reviving the Ghiscari Empire was a fine ambition, Fermor thought, but if a man wasn't going to be the emperor himself, then maintaining the status quo was far more appealing. He could easily guess the thoughts of the other Good Masters.
Krazny was stupid, arrogant, and ill-tempered. The other Good Masters disliked him and would never allow him to climb above them. If it weren't for the fact that Krazny was the head of the Nacroz family, Fermor wouldn't want to speak with him either.
"Sir," Fermor said, ignoring Krazny's outburst and turning the topic back to the purpose of his visit, "Ian has rented an entire floor of a pyramid from the Temple of the Graces. He is hosting a banquet tonight for twenty-two senior Unsullied instructors, including myself. It is said to be of a very high standard."
"Why did he invite you?"
"Have you forgotten, sir? If our agreement with Ian was finalized yesterday, we would be training soldiers exclusively for him for the next two years. Is it so strange that he would seek to curry favor with us in advance?" Fermor explained patiently.
"The deal is done? You heard their attitudes. Does it look as though the deal can be concluded?" Krazny grew more irritated by the second.
"We know this, but Ian does not. He likely has confidence in you—after all, you gave him your word."
"But the others are firm. I don't think I can convince them."
"Perhaps we don't need to convince them," Instructor Fermor said, lowering his voice. "We just need to ensure they don't object."
"What nonsense are you talking?" If the man before him weren't also a noble—and his own nephew—Krazny would have had him whipped. How could one make them cease their objections without convincing them?
"Lord Krazny, consider this: once this transaction is complete, you will have the dragons. With the dragons and our Unsullied, within ten years we will conquer Yunkai, Meereen, and New Ghis. We will rebuild the great cities of Ghis, and you will be the emperor. What right will those Good Masters have then to dictate your decisions? The emperor's power is absolute."
"I admit your words have merit," Krazny nodded, "but the reality is that I am not yet the Emperor of Ghis. If the other Good Masters do not consent, I will never be!"
Though Krazny was widely considered a fool, he wasn't so foolish as to try and command the other Good Masters with a title he did not yet possess.
"If they will not consent, then we must make them yield!" Fermor's tone turned fierce. "No one will stop the House of Nacroz from becoming royalty!"
"Are you mad?" Krazny was startled. "You want to kill them?"
"If they do not wish to live."
"That's impossible! Although half the Unsullied in the city are mine, if I were to start a civil war, the others would surely unite against me. We would end up destroying our own Unsullied forces first. What would we have left to trade for Ian's dragons?" Though he claimed it was impossible, his eyes were filled with anticipation.
He hoped his ever-capable nephew would produce a 'doable' plan.
"Then we must find a way to prevent the Unsullied from participating in the war. More precisely, we prevent the Unsullied belonging to the other Good Masters from participating."
"What do you mean?"
"We can pretend to abandon the current plan. We let Ian purchase eight thousand Unsullied with coin first, leaving only a contingent of six hundred behind. This is in keeping with our usual trading customs; no one will be suspicious."
"After Ian buys the Unsullied, he will lead them away from Astapor temporarily. The six hundred who remain will be loyal to me. At that point, we can begin to eliminate those who are disobedient. You will call the other Good Masters to a meeting, and then we will seize them all. Astapor's city guard is nothing before the Unsullied. I need only half a day to control the situation."
"Once it is done, we will invite Ian back and return his money. Then, we can proceed with the trade on the terms you and he originally agreed upon. And by then, you will be the sole master of Astapor."
"This plan requires Ian's cooperation. Will he agree?" Krazny looked pleased but still felt the need to ask.
"He has nothing to lose. He gets the army he desires, you get the dragons you desire, and in the future, he need only deal with you in Astapor. This will save him a great deal of trouble. I am confident I can persuade him," Fermor promised.
"Tonight? He is entertaining you tonight, is he not? Go and persuade him! Persuade him tonight!"
***
"Krazny agreed."
After leaving the Great Pyramid of the Nacroz family, Instructor Fermor met Celia in a dusty inn.
"Very good. Then everything will proceed according to plan," Celia nodded. Krazny's agreement was entirely expected. "Where is the list?"
"Do not forget the conditions you promised me," Fermor said, handing a list to Celia.
"Don't worry, Instructor Fermor," Celia replied, taking the parchment.
Having received her reassurance, Fermor departed the inn hastily and disappeared around the corner.
Celia picked up the cup of sour persimmon wine from the table and drank it down, then took out a small notebook from her tunic. She drew a check mark next to the entry: *Lure Krazny into the trap*.
It was her personal ledger of tasks.
She still had countless duties ahead of her: wooing the Unsullied instructors on Fermor's list, building the 'miracle' Ian would use to subdue the centaur slaves, scouting the surrounding area for potential resources, and assessing which crops were suitable for large-scale planting in the nearby terrain.
As a veteran of such endeavors, she knew it was impossible to build a foundation from scratch when time was short. Knowledge from another world, however, could be converted into tangible value, even in a brief period. The key was to choose where to focus one's efforts, concentrating everything on realizing that value. Attempting to do everything at once would only result in achieving nothing at all.
The task of choosing that focus fell to Celia, who was far more suited to it than Ian.
Closing her small notebook, Celia set out on her next task.
She did not object to the work. She knew that the more she had on her plate, the more secure her position. No lord dismisses his most effective agent, and Ian was no different.
He had too many tasks that required the unique perspective of someone like her—a 'player'—and Ian could not find a substitute. The day Ian stopped giving her work, she knew, would be the day she truly needed to worry.
Chapter 209 Finger of the Harpy
The nine boxes were opened one after another. It took more than a dozen slaves a full hour to complete the tally of gold coins.
Ninety-six thousand gold dragons for eight thousand Unsullied—a cash transaction.
Even for Astapor, such a scene was a rarity, seen perhaps once in a century.
"Once this payment is made, the deal is concluded, is it not?" Ian asked.
Opposite him sat eight of the Good Masters of Astapor, all clad in tasseled tokars.
According to Ghiscari tradition, the tassels on a tokar signified status. Among the slave traders gathered in the shaded resting hall atop the great pyramid, two wore tokars with silver tassels and five with gold. The tassels of the eldest, Grazdan, were made of large white pearls.
Krazny mo Nakloz was merely one of the five with golden tassels. If not for the fact that his primary business was the Unsullied, and that he owned more than half of their instructors in the city, the 'honor' of dealing with this would-be emperor would never have fallen to him.
"Of course, Lord Ian," the pearl-tasseled old Grazdan responded in heavily accented Valyrian. "I regret that we could not agree on a further deal. But if you are willing to pay the cost in gold, we can still provide you with Ghiscari Legionnaires who are not Unsullied."
"There is no need," Ian refused directly. "These eight thousand Unsullied will be sufficient."
"Then it is a deal," Old Grazdan declared.
"A deal," the other Good Masters echoed.
"A deal, a deal… the deal is made eight times over," the slave girl translated.
Krazny mo Nakloz was the last to speak. After he affirmed the sale, several of the other masters shot him meaningful looks, as if taking pleasure in his misfortune.
Krazny wanted to laugh in their faces, but his nephew Feimol had warned him against it. For now, he could only maintain a cold expression and allow their mocking eyes to sweep over him.
*Your arrogance will not last much longer,* Krazny thought venomously. *You will all pay the price!*
After cursing them in his mind, Krazny stood and walked toward Ian. It was customary for him to complete the final part of the transaction.
"It is called the Finger of the Harpy," Krazny said, presenting a whip to Ian. "It is a scourge of the highest order. With it, you command the eight thousand Unsullied you have purchased, and you will have their absolute loyalty."
The handle of the whip was fashioned from finely carved black dragonbone, inlaid with gold. Nine slender leather lashes extended from it, each tipped with a gold-plated claw. The weighted pommel was a woman's head sculpted from pure gold, with sharp ivory teeth bared in its mouth.
"I just take it? Is that all?"
"No," Krazny shook his head. "We must move to the Plaza of Punishment. The Plaza of Pride is too small to accommodate eight thousand Unsullied at once. You must go to the Plaza of Punishment for the final transfer of power with our instructors. They will confirm to the Unsullied in person that the deal has been concluded, and their obedience will be transferred to this whip."
*It makes sense,* Ian thought. Astapor sold Unsullied constantly. Without a complete mechanism for transferring command, the proliferation of such whips would lead to chaos. Although this detail was not mentioned in the books, this was likely what Daenerys had done when she raised the whip in the Plaza of Punishment, confirming to the Unsullied that the sale was complete.
"However, the Unsullied understand only Valyrian. You will require a translator to command them," Krazny mo Nakloz said, grabbing Missandei by the shoulders and pushing her forward. "Accept this one as our gift, a symbol of a smooth transaction."
Perhaps Krazny was venting his frustrations with the other masters on the small translator, for his hands were rough. The girl stumbled forward and fell to the ground.
Daenerys, who stood behind Ian, quickly stepped forward to help her up.
"Thank you, Your Majesty," the little translator said hurriedly. "Please forgive my clumsiness."
"The one who needs to apologize is not you," Daenerys said, looking up at Krazny, "but the one who pushed you."
"No, no, no," the translator said in fear. "This one is but a slave. How can a master apologize for harming his property?"
"Do not call yourself 'this one' in my presence. What is your name?"
"This one's name is Missandei."
"Missandei is not—" Daenerys began, intending to grant her freedom on the spot, but Ian's words from the day before echoed in her mind.
*If we fail, there will never be another to break their shackles, not in the past thousand years, nor in the next thousand years.*
*No, I cannot,* Daenerys thought, struggling with herself. She swallowed the words she had meant to say.
"Come with me," Daenerys said instead, pulling Missandei into Ian's retinue. "You will stay with me from now on."
"Your queen is so…" Krazny began, finding it ridiculous when another slave translated Daenerys's sentiment that he should apologize.
"Excessively kind," Ian interrupted, preventing Krazny from saying anything that might escalate the conflict. "She is still young and at times cannot distinguish between high and low. Give her time. She will come to understand that a master is a master, and a slave is a slave."
"You are not so old yourself, yet you are ever sensible." Krazny took the opening Ian provided. It would be most unwise to create friction over a mere slave when their cooperation had otherwise been so profitable. "Then, please, follow me to the Plaza of Punishment."
"After you," Ian said with a gesture. Once Krazny began to lead the way, he walked to Daenerys's side. "If you feel unwell, you may return to the ship."
"No!" Daenerys replied decisively. "I want to see all of it with my own eyes."
Ian blinked. He sensed a new confidence in her today, more than he had seen before. Was it because the promise of abolition he had made her gave her a sense of purpose?
"As you wish," Ian said, not pressing the matter.
It would be good for Daenerys to witness the miserable conditions in the Plaza of Punishment. In the future, when she commanded her own people, she would involuntarily compare their state to the slaves here. By that comparison, even the bleakest of circumstances would seem a beacon of liberty.
"But you must remember," Ian reminded her, "do not show any dissatisfaction."
Soon, Ian and his party arrived at the Plaza of Punishment, which was situated opposite the main city gate of Astapor. Once the transaction was complete, Ian could lead his new army directly out of the city and await Krazny's signal to return.
There were no bronze statues here, only a wooden platform where rebellious slaves were tortured, flayed, and hanged.
"The Good Masters placed it here so that it is the first thing new slaves see when they come to the city," Missandei whispered to Daenerys.
Daenerys looked toward the platform. Slaves were tied to it, their skin peeled away in long strips, like the rind of an apple. A wave of nausea washed over her, but she did not look away.
*I am of the blood of the dragon,* she told herself silently.
Past the execution platform, Daenerys finally laid eyes on the expensive army in the center of the plaza.
They stood in row after perfect row, men turned to stone.
Ian, mounted on a tall white horse, rode between the disciplined ranks of soldiers. He raised the Finger of the Harpy high, working with the Unsullied instructors to complete the transfer of command.
When Ian finished his pass of the final phalanx, Daenerys knew that these eunuch soldiers were now theirs.
Chapter 210 Lord of Astapor (Part 1)
It was not until the early morning of the next day that Ian's army had left Astapor, when an envoy from Kraznys finally caught up with his column on the Ghiscari coastal road.
After being informed that Astapor had changed its mind—deciding to accept the terms he had previously proposed and lend him the three great pyramids in the city—Ian feigned confusion but nevertheless agreed to the offer. He ordered his army to turn back.
So it was that on the afternoon of the third day after his departure, Ian, mounted on his white horse, once again passed through the main gate of Astapor and entered the Plaza of Punishment.
The air here was still thick with the familiar, cloying smell of blood. But unlike when he had left, it was not only the crucified slaves who were missing from the plaza.
The Good Masters were no more.
Just after Ian had departed, Kraznys mo Nakloz had sent troops to surround the other masters who were preparing their funds for the transaction and arrested them on the spot. Subsequently, Femor's Unsullied purged the influence of the other great families in the city, and Kraznys began to style himself the sole Lord of Astapor.
Of the eight great families that were once prominent in Astapor, only the Keldiz family, which was close to the Nakloz family, was completely preserved. Three of the other families of the Good Masters were subjected to the Great Purge, including that of Old Grazdan, a man once so wealthy he could decorate his tokar with pearl tassels. His family held the largest share of trade in Astapor, and they controlled vast tracts of farmland and tens of thousands of serfs and labor slaves on the east bank of the Worm River.
For refusing to submit and for insulting Kraznys mo Nakloz, these three Good Masters were crucified in the Plaza of Punishment, and their families were bloodily massacred. Their pyramids were cleared out by Instructor Femor and prepared for Ian's use.
The last three families of the Good Masters underwent a power reshuffle after their patriarchs were arrested by Femor. The Unsullied instructors within their households—men who had been bribed by Celia at Ian's banquet—became the new heads of their families. After these men swore allegiance to Lord Kraznys, the three families were permitted to endure.
***
Sunlight streamed in through the diamond-shaped panes of green glass embedded in the sloping walls, casting a refreshing emerald light across the hall. From time to time, a breeze drifted in from the outer terrace, carrying the fragrance of flowers and fruit from the gardens below.
Kraznys mo Nakloz sat high upon his throne. This time, there were no seven other Good Masters of equal status beside him. The surviving nobles of Astapor stood to the right of the hall like ministers before a king.
On the left side of the hall stood Ian's people: Rohr, Case, Dorian the Black Falcon, Bronn, and his other veterans, as well as the newly appointed Unsullied officers, such as Grey Worm.
Though it was the apex of the pyramid, the hall could still accommodate hundreds of people without issue. It was clean, tidy, and decorated with extreme luxury. Ian had to admit that the Ghiscari pyramids were masterpieces of architectural art.
"I believe I am owed an explanation," Ian said, standing in the middle of the hall after offering a perfunctory salute to the new master of Astapor and his nobles. "What has happened in this city during my absence? The news I received was that the Good Masters of Astapor had changed their minds and decided to trade with me under the previous terms. But when I return, you tell me there are no Good Masters left in this city."
The young translator, Missandei, loudly rendered Ian's words into Valyrian. She stood behind Ian, utterly unafraid as she faced her former master.
"What is this? You said you had convinced him," Kraznys mo Nakloz hissed, his brow furrowing as he turned to his nephew, Femor, who stood beside him.
"Informing an outsider of our plan beforehand would have been risky. It is not too late to convince him now," Femor defended in a low voice. He knew Ian wished to completely distance himself from Astapor's internal struggle.
"As you can see, Astapor has only one master now, and that is me," Kraznys declared directly, his voice booming with confidence. "Therefore, you can rest assured about our transaction. There is no need to worry about anyone interfering."
"This is so dishonorable," Ian said, shaking his head, his tone one of stern questioning. "You slaughtered your own kind for personal gain? You have tarnished the pride of the Ghiscari and shattered Astapor's credibility."
After the young Missandei finished translating Ian's sharp rebuke, Ian noticed the Astapori nobles on the left side of the hall begin to whisper amongst themselves. They were careful, however, not to show any open fear of Kraznys, the man who had just orchestrated a city-wide massacre.
"Perhaps I should reconsider our agreement," Ian said with an air of disappointment.
"What did you say?" Kraznys was incredulous. "Who but Astapor can provide you with an iron army in two years?"
"Military might means little without credibility. If it becomes known that I made a deal with a traitor, how will the world perceive me?" Ian pretended to hesitate before shaking his head as if in final refusal. "If there is nothing else, we are leaving."
He then waved to his men, gesturing for them to leave with him.
*How did it come to this?* Kraznys was bewildered, but he knew he could not let Ian leave. If Ian abandoned the deal and took the eight thousand Unsullied with him, his own position was untenable. With his atrocities and ambitions now exposed, the exiled forces of the purged families would inevitably launch a counterattack. The nobles within the city who had only temporarily surrendered would be poised to act, and the masters of Yunkai and Meereen would not hesitate to move against an ambitious man who dared to attack his own.
At that point, he would die without a grave.
"Convince him! Quickly, you idiot!" In a panic, Kraznys glared at his nephew. "You said you could guarantee his cooperation!"
"Perhaps you misremember. I said I could guarantee he would cooperate with *me*," Instructor Femor replied in a low voice.
Since Kraznys had become the sole Lord of Astapor, the seating had been rearranged, leaving no one else near the two of them. Femor had no fear of his words being overheard.
"What do you mean by that?"
"Uncle Kraznys!" Instructor Femor suddenly raised his voice, loud enough for everyone in the hall to hear. "Out of loyalty to our family, I have always followed your lead."
Perhaps drawn by the sudden shift in the hall's atmosphere, Ian and his men paused at the door, turning as if to see what was happening.
"You asked me to capture Astapor for you, and I did it without hesitation!" Femor proclaimed, his voice filled with sorrow. "You ordered me to kill those nobles. The act tormented me, but I did it nonetheless, because you are my uncle and the head of the Nakloz family! But this time, your order is too much! Please forgive me, for I cannot accept it!"
As he spoke, Femor walked down the steps from the throne and crossed the floor to stand with the other Astapori nobles.
*What excessive order?* Kraznys was utterly confused. He did not understand a single word his nephew was saying.
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