Pentos, a pearl in the bay with a population of several hundred thousand, gazed across the Narrow Sea at King's Landing.
However, because Pentos was built and developed much earlier, it lacked the stench of the Westerosi capital.
King's Landing, barely three hundred years old, was a crude, fledgling city with little history compared to the ancient Free Cities.
The violent clash outside Pentos last night had left the citizens shaken. The Andal cavalry had melted the Dothraki charge like a steel fist, and Viserys had personally slain Khal Jhiqui.
This battle terrified the defenseless Pentoshi. It reminded them of the days when Dothraki screamers swarmed their walls, or when the Braavosi fleet sank their grand armada in the bay to assert dominance.
The Dragon of Andalos, this newly risen King Viserys, was a formidable neighbor to the north.
Viserys Targaryen held no fear for the Dothraki Khals, marking him as no ordinary power.
Furthermore, Viserys might be a greater threat than the Khals. Andalos was a feudal kingdom with centralized authority, while the Dothraki were nomadic tribes.
Though the Khals were powerful, their succession was unstable.
Andalos, like a great tree, was sinking its roots deep and growing strong.
A Khal was usually the strongest or fiercest warrior in a khalasar, not necessarily a blood descendant.
The Dothraki valued strength above all else. They would never follow a child khalakka or a Khal's widow. If a Khal died, his Khaleesi was taken to Vaes Dothrak to join the Dosh Khaleen, the crones who advised all the tribes.
The Kos would fight for control, and the young heir would often be killed to prevent future rivalry.
Coupled with the fact that Dothraki wore no armor and loved to fight, the turnover rate for Khals was extremely high. Once a Khal was defeated or grew too old to ride, he was discarded.
Thus, the leadership of the Dothraki Sea was in constant flux, plagued by internal strife.
Rarely did a Khal unite the grass sea, and stable hereditary dynasties were almost nonexistent. This brutal law of the jungle actually reduced the pressure on Pentos.
Many Pentoshi Magisters harbored a dark hope: let the powerful Khals and Viserys fight again. Ideally, both would be crippled, solving two problems at once.
Viserys rode his black stallion into Pentos, followed by a hundred iron-clad knights. Tempered by slaughter, the cavalry exuded a fearless aura.
They had crushed the Dothraki; the useless Pentoshi City Watch was beneath notice.
Viserys had discarded his bloodstained dragon surcoat. The blood had dried brown and stiff.
It wasn't his blood, but the enemy's.
Pentos was a soft city; the stench of blood would offend.
Viserys wasn't here to intimidate the Magisters like a crude savage; he maintained a certain dignity.
He entered Pentos with grace. Today, he was not the same man as yesterday.
King Viserys's unparalleled beauty and magnificent silver armor had already caused a sensation, but yesterday, people thought him merely a dashing, rich young fool.
They hadn't expected the descendant of Dragonlords to possess such terrifying power, fighting like a demon of war—bloody and indomitable.
Wherever Viserys and his black-armored knights passed, even the most arrogant Pentoshi bravos and sellswords stepped aside.
These swaggering bravos weren't fools. Their fancy swordplay was no match for a Khal, let alone the Dragon King who had slain one.
This was the terror of elite shock tactics. Viserys's base stats were extremely high, and coupled with his Rhoynar god-tier equipment, he was unstoppable.
Leading his elite troops in a charge, he cut through enemies like melons. Few could withstand such an assault.
The Pentos market was still bustling, overflowing with goods, far livelier than the markets of Andalos.
Here were hairy Ibbenese, pale-skinned Qartheen, feather-cloaked Summer Islanders with skin as black as coal, and even masked shadowbinders from Asshai-by-the-Shadow.
More significantly, merchants from Oldtown and King's Landing gathered here with their counterparts from Braavos, Pentos, Myr, and Lys.
The Westerosi merchants could only watch Viserys from a distance, guarded as he was by his knights and Illyrio's Unsullied.
"That is our former prince, the blood of the dragon," an Oldtown merchant whispered.
"Shut your mouth!" A King's Landing merchant clamped a hand over his mouth. Viserys's resurgence wasn't a secret, but spreading news of it was strictly forbidden in the Seven Kingdoms.
If the Spider's little birds heard, it would be treason.
The Pentos markets offered fruits like apples, melons, peaches, white cherries, and fireplums. There were meats of all kinds—beef, pork, mutton, chicken, seafood—and vegetables galore.
The Pentoshi Magisters had purchased vast quantities of fine fruit, brocades, and velvet robes for Viserys—gifts to ensure the "demon" was not slighted.
For now, no other Khal was likely to arrive; Drogo was playing mount-and-blade on the Great Grass Sea. The money was all for Viserys.
Viserys's own mission was to find treasures pulsating with water or fire essence.
"Many of these fruits come from the Reach. Of course, there are also our Pentoshi flatlands, where many farmers and laborers are bound to the soil," Illyrio explained. "I own many orchards, farms, and mines there, though I rarely visit. Compared to the richness of Pentos, what joy is there in the fields?"
Listening to Illyrio boast, Viserys acknowledged the man's success.
From a nameless sellsword to a senior Magister of Pentos in a few decades—responsible for diplomacy, no less—was no small feat.
"Pentos is indeed rich and prosperous, protected by high walls."
"We have no choice. Without walls, Pentos is a beauty laid bare. Like the flatlands—the towns there have long been ruins. Any tribe wishing to see the sea must pass through the flatlands. Even Westerosi knights know the Khals have no love for cities; they believe the earth is their mother and all things should return to their primal state."
The Dothraki followed a primitive ecological fundamentalism. They believed cutting the earth with axes, spades, or plows was a sin.
Thus, wherever they conquered, they burned fields, farms, and cities, returning the land to wild pasture.
"Concentrate your forces and annihilate one tribe, and you'll find the Dothraki become hesitant to cross the Rhoyne," Viserys suggested.
But he felt he was speaking to a wall. The Pentoshi were addicted to the path of least resistance.
Braavos had neutered Pentos, and Pentos had castrated itself.
No Magister dared lead an army, and the soldiers were rabble motivated only by coin.
"Is it not cheaper to buy the enemy off with food and gifts?" Illyrio explained.
"Perhaps I should do it for you. I've killed one Khal; it seems there's another."
"Please, do not jest. Jhiqui had only a few thousand warriors. The other Khals command tens of thousands," Illyrio said, horrified. The plan was too arrogant.
If Viserys defeated the horselords, Pentos would just end up paying him instead.
Trading one master for two.
"What has Khal Drogo been doing lately?" Viserys asked Illyrio.
Andalos merchants didn't travel to Vaes Dothrak, but Pentoshi traders risked it for profit and brought back news.
Besides, the Dothraki loved begging in Pentos; relations were good.
"Since his father died, Khal Drogo has been hunting down his father's Kos and annexing other tribes. He is undefeated; the screamers obey him," Illyrio detailed, popping a white cherry into his mouth. His network was well-informed.
The invincible Khal Drogo was a prodigy—tall, agile, swift.
Rising to the top of tens of thousands of warriors proved his mettle.
But strength was useless without armor; he couldn't escape his plot armor death.
Illyrio was curious why Viserys cared so much about Drogo. But Drogo was a rising star, young and aggressive, prone to starting wars.
The establishment of the White City in Andalos would be seen as an insult by the Khals. Viserys had killed many Dothraki stragglers and now a Khal.
Even if Drogo looked down on Jhiqui, he might march for the sake of Dothraki pride. Young men were hot-blooded.
It seemed inevitable that Viserys and Drogo, the two rising stars of Essos, would clash in a bloody war.
Viserys had previously rejected the idea of marrying his niece or sister to Drogo, much to Illyrio's regret. Now, war seemed the only outcome.
"How many Kos did Khal Bharbo have?" Viserys asked curiously.
"Three. Old Khal Bharbo commanded ten thousand screamers and a great tribe. His three Kos each led five thousand warriors and smaller tribes."
"Twenty-five thousand screamers. That's a lot."
"Indeed. Bharbo was the strongest Khal in recent years. But the relationship between Kos and a Khal's son is rarely good. If a Khal dies, the Kos are usually the first to kill his underage heir. Drogo is a fierce warrior, and his father lived long enough for him to inherit."
"How long will this pursuit last?" Viserys asked.
"Hard to say, but Khal Drogo has stirred up a storm of blood in the Dothraki Sea, leaving Pentos relatively quiet. The day Bharbo died, Drogo killed one Ko and absorbed his tribe. The remaining two Kos fled, declaring themselves Khals and uniting against Drogo. But they are no match for him. If Drogo kills them and expands further, his strength will swell to thirty thousand..."
"Opportunity. An opportunity for sea exploration," Viserys thought.
If he went exploring now, the timing was excellent.
With the Pyromancer talent, Viserys was considering a voyage to the ruins of Valyria in the Smoking Sea.
He considered the favorable conditions.
First, it was high summer; storms at sea were rare.
Autumn was the dangerous season—frequent rains, swollen rivers, floods.
Autumn storms were frequent and violent, making sailing treacherous.
Second, his potential enemies were all busy.
The Ironborn had suffered heavy losses in Balon's Rebellion; pirates were scarce, licking their wounds.
Khal Drogo was playing cat and mouse on the Great Grass Sea, consolidating his power. He needed to kill those two Kos at least.
And the Iron Throne would take months to mobilize a crusade.
So, the choice was: wait for the fossilized dragon eggs to align with a magical contract, or explore the Smoking Sea?
Viserys decided to stock up on dragonbone and rare ingredients first. With his Fire and Water affinities, he could filter them.
"This one, this one, and that one. I'll take them all," Viserys pointed to the black dragonbones at a stall.
The peddler had dyed bird bones black to pass off as dragonbone, requiring a keen eye.
Over time, even the peddler forgot which were real.
"At once, merciful King!" The bone peddler was overjoyed as Illyrio's Unsullied paid.
Viserys took all the real dragonbone and half the fakes to mask his ability; otherwise, his success rate would be suspicious.
He toyed with a piece of real dragonbone. It emitted a faint fluctuation of fire essence.
Due to its high iron content, dragonbone was black. It was as strong as steel but lighter and more flexible.
This was why dragons were relatively light for their size; their bones were light, and their bodies, spread out like great birds, weren't as dense as they appeared.
"Dragon eggs? Do you want dragon eggs?" the peddler asked gleefully. "Real eggs from the ruins of Valyria!"
Bullshit eggs. They were painted stones, though they looked convincing.
"Do you take us for fools? The King buys your bones out of kindness," Illyrio scolded. The peddler shut up.
"Your Grace, I have the finest fish bones here! I brought my whole stock!" A fish bone seller called out. Viserys had bought heavily yesterday, and the man had been waiting for him.
Viserys waved his hand and bought in bulk again.
These deep-sea and river fish bones were useless to others, but for Viserys, the trace water essence boosted his Hydromancy.
"Your Grace, this is a golden-lipped fish from the bay! Its taste is exquisite!" A fishmonger caught his attention.
Viserys looked at the large golden fish. It was fresh. He nodded and took it.
Illyrio found Viserys easy to please. He only wanted bones, expensive ingredients, and some art, ignoring silks and brocades.
Finally, Viserys found the most precious prize in the market.
At a stall selling ancient statues—the Seven, the Trios, the Pale Child—Viserys found an ancient Tyroshi statue of the Trios.
The craftsmanship was perfect, but the real value lay in the heart-shaped ruby in the center of the statue.
The first head of the Trios devours the dying, the third head breathes out new life. Viserys didn't know what the middle head represented—perhaps the present.
Viserys felt it—a faint pulse of fire essence from the ruby.
Gems were vital in magic, unparalleled carriers capable of absorbing and storing elemental power.
Viserys knew Melisandre wore a ruby choker that glowed when she worked her magic.
"I want this statue!" Viserys pointed to the Trios.
The peddler happily held it up. "Great King Viserys, may your fortune be long!"
Viserys bought much and paid fairly, making him the most popular patron in the Pentos market.
However, an interruption occurred. An obese red priest pushed through the crowd.
"Noble sir, would you part with the blood-ruby? I wish to use it to pray to the Lord of Light," the red priest pleaded.
"Not the time, priest," Viserys looked at him. "I've already bought it. I like this little toy."
Blood-ruby? A classification of rubies?
The red priest came closer and saw Viserys's face.
Silver-white hair, pale violet eyes, inhumanly beautiful.
The red priest stared blankly at Viserys with reddish-brown eyes. "I see you, Dragon King. King of Blood and Fire, King of Water and Fire, King of Sky and Sea, King of Steel and Law, King of the Old City and the New. Earth, mountains, plains, hills, rivers, and seas all kneel at your feet. Great Lord of Light, and Lord of Slaughter. I thought the scent of death came from the Unsullied..."
The red priest began to weep, his fat body trembling. "Too cruel, too cruel. Such light, yet such cruelty."
The red priest turned and left, abandoning the ruby, leaving Viserys and Illyrio bewildered.
"Was he prophesying?" Viserys asked.
"Yes, Your Grace," Illyrio glanced at Viserys. Could he be the true Prince That Was Promised? "He called you King of Blood and Fire, King of Water and Fire, King of Sky and Sea, King of Steel and Law, King of the Old City and the New."
"Is he promising me the crown of the world?" Viserys raised the Trios statue and laughed aloud.
"Better to believe than not," Illyrio said, bowing his head.