The black banner with the red dragon fluttered in the gentle breeze. The air around Viserys Fort smelled of green grass, sour wine, river water, and sweat.
To avoid Viserys Fort becoming a cesspit like King's Landing, Viserys had prioritized sewage systems during construction. Public latrines were established, and there was even a "night soil tax" to fund their maintenance.
Many of the peasant residents found this adjustment difficult at first. It took Viserys and Septon Ebony personally declaring that "using the latrines is the will of the Gods, and those who soil the roadsides shall be struck by plague" to make the practice stick. Now, Viserys Fort was remarkably clean and orderly.
With a population much smaller than King's Landing, management was far more streamlined.
The Andals and Rhoynar were historically civilized peoples; even in their current reduced circumstances, they could be re-educated.
As the most populous and currently the only true city in Andalos, the "White City" on the eastern bank of the Upper Rhoyne was bursting with vitality.
The flow of people made the city bustling. Residents from Andal and Rhoynar villages, visitors from across the region, and even adventurers and merchants from the Free Cities thronged the streets.
The people of Andalos and the Rhoyne basin—especially those on the eastern bank—were eager to seek shelter behind the sturdy white walls. Compared to the security of the great walls, the undefended villages were dangerously exposed.
With savage bandits and Dothraki horselords roaming the lands, the White City appeared as a beacon of sanctity and hope.
It was as if Andalos had finally grown a heart, and it was beating with a steady, deep rhythm.
In the town below the castle hill, the docks, fish markets, and meat markets were arranged in neat, thriving rows. Merchants displayed a colorful array of goods.
Cattle and sheep from the Andal hills, fresh trout from the Rhoyne, Andal apples, sour wine, and carved statues of the Seven.
Whether they were vintners, silk merchants, knights, smiths, sailors, or fishermen, everyone found their place in this city.
This was the new capital of the Andal and Rhoynar region, destined to radiate its influence across the vast lands surrounding it.
Inside the royal castle of Viserys Fort, Viserys was receiving a new group of guests: runaway slaves who had fled from the upper reaches of the Rhoyne.
Viserys sat upon his throne on the dais. Below him, at a long table, the Red Viper sat as the King's advisor.
Oberyn had long served as Doran's right hand and was a shrewd and capable administrator.
"Merciful Lord of the White City, Descendant of the Dragonlords of Old Valyria, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, King of Andalos, the Rhoyne, and Westeros, Viserys the Restorer. We beg you to open the gates of your White City to us. We wish to become your loyal servants, offering our taxes and our allegiance."
The speaker was Jalaka, a Summer Islander and the leader of the runaway slaves.
Jalaka wore a cloak of interwoven red and green feathers. His skin was as black as night, and his face bore the tattooed wheel that marked a cart-slave of Volantis.
Due to his long flight, the feather cloak was filthy, making him look less like an elegant Summer Island prince and more like a ragged fugitive.
"I will hear your plea," Viserys said.
"I have seen many ruins along the Upper Rhoyne, stone skeletons claimed by vines, moss, and wildflowers. But aside from that, I have seen little sign of human life," Viserys noted.
"You do not know the river, Your Grace. Every creek here might hide river pirates. Ruins are often the best refuge for runaways; few slavers dare venture this far north to hunt us."
Most runaway slaves fled to the riverbanks above Ny Sar. Only slaves were desperate enough for freedom to brave these lands.
The journey north was a road of death. Nine out of ten did not survive.
Volantis and Lys executed slaves who tried to escape or harmed their masters, displaying their heads on spikes along their bridges and walls.
Even if they luckily escaped north to the Upper Rhoyne, they faced the curse of the Sorrows, the pirates of Dagger Lake, the occasional Dothraki Khal crossing the river, and local bandits. The risks were immense.
Every slave who completed this death march possessed extraordinary willpower.
"Where did you flee from?" Viserys asked.
"The outer city of Volantis, Your Grace," Jalaka answered, head bowed. "I was captured in the Summer Isles and enslaved. I served as a cart-slave in Volantis for two and a half years before I killed my master and fled north."
"And your companions? What manner of slaves were they?"
"Some were elephant-keepers, others shipwrights, and so on," Jalaka replied.
"You have endured a hard journey," Viserys looked at Jalaka. "Coming to Viserys Fort marks the beginning of a new life. Andalos offers sanctuary to runaway slaves, under the light of the New Gods, the Old Gods, and Mother Rhoyne."
"Thank you, Your Grace!" Jalaka fell to his knees in gratitude. Thank the Gods, they no longer had to live in ruins, sharing their beds with mosquitoes and bugs.
"Are you willing to obey my commands, pay my taxes, and take up arms for the White City and Viserys Fort?" Viserys asked.
"We are willing. We pray for it. We dedicate our lives to Your Grace, from this day until our last," Jalaka pledged in a high, resonant voice.
Jalaka departed with a thousand thanks, his steps light and joyful as a deer released from a cage.
"Do you really intend to accept these runaways, Your Grace?" the Red Viper asked with a frown.
Oberyn pitied the slaves, but he was also pragmatic about the risks.
Viserys nodded. "Why not?"
"Morally, offering sanctuary is right. But opening the gates like this... soon a trickle will become a flood. The slave cities will hate us to the bone. Braavos is far to the north, but Andalos sits right in the middle of everything."
"That is exactly why it is an opportunity. We can absorb the population that Braavos cannot," Viserys said.
"An opportunity, yes, but also a danger," Oberyn warned. It was a double-edged sword.
"Beyond the population boost, there is another crucial factor: we need skilled labor," Viserys explained. "We cannot cultivate these skills among the Andals and Rhoynar in the short term. But many runaway slaves are skilled artisans. The Three Daughters and Volantis were built on the backs of slaves."
This was the economic basis for Viserys's decision. Cities like Volantis ran entirely on slavery.
Slaves grew the food, cleaned the streets, educated the children, guarded the walls, rowed the warships, and fought the battles for the freeborn citizens.
Among these runaways were the craftsmen Viserys desperately needed. Poaching talent from Westeros was hard; poaching from the Rhoyne was easy.
"A bold move. And a risky one," Oberyn nodded.
"Do you know the ratio of freeborn to slaves in the Free Cities?" Viserys asked Oberyn.
Oberyn rattled off the numbers as if listing family treasures. "In Tyrosh, it's one freeborn to three slaves. Lys and Myr are similar. But in Volantis, it's a staggering one to five."
"Since harboring runaways will already anger the slavers... what if someone planned to liberate all slaves entirely?" Viserys asked, a cold light glinting in his eyes.
"That is madness. Impossible," Oberyn emphasized, his eyes widening. Viserys was truly insane.
"Even wealthy, powerful Braavos can only enforce its will on its vassal Lorath and occasionally check Pentos," Oberyn rubbed his palms together nervously. "They simply forbid slavery within their own sphere and refuse to trade with Slaver's Bay. But you... you are talking about making enemies of the entire world."
The slave trade was a pillar of the global economy. The slaving nations were numerous and powerful. This was no exaggeration.
Upstream were the Dothraki raiders, Ironborn reavers, and corsairs from the Basilisk Isles, all capturing human chattel. The Tyroshi slavers were notoriously aggressive, sailing as far as Beyond the Wall to capture wildlings.
Slaver's Bay handled the training with terrifying efficiency—Yunkai for bed slaves, Meereen for pit fighters, Astapor for the Unsullied.
And the downstream cities consumed them in vast quantities.
"It is an unprecedented undertaking," Viserys said.
"It is unprecedented madness," Oberyn countered.
"You really are a Targaryen. Greatness and madness are two sides of the same coin," Oberyn said, studying Viserys intently.