“Did any of them try to burn their way free?” That was the thing that frightened Dany the most.
“No, Khaleesi. Drogon breathed his fire, but in the empty air. The slaver men feared to come near him.”
She kissed Irri’s hand where Drogon had bitten it. “I’m sorry he hurt you. Dragons are not meant to be locked up in a small ship’s cabin.”
“Dragons are like horses in this,” Irri said. “And riders, too. The horses scream below, Khaleesi, and kick at the wooden wal s. I hear them. And Jhiqui says the old women and the little ones scream too, when you are not here. They do not like this water cart. They do not like the black salt sea.”
“I know,” Dany said. “I do, I know.”
“My khaleesi is sad?”
“Yes,” Dany admitted. Sad and lost.
“Should I pleasure the khaleesi?”
Dany stepped away from her. “No. Irri, you do not need to do that. What happened that night, when you woke... you’re no bed slave, I freed you, remember? You.. ”
“I am handmaid to the Mother of Dragons,” the girl said. “It is great honor to please my khaleesi.”
“I don’t want that,” she insisted. “I don’t.” She turned away sharply. “Leave me now. I want to be alone. To think.”
Dusk had begun to settle over the waters of Slaver’s Bay before Dany returned to the deck. She stood by the rail and looked out over Astapor. From here it looks almost beautiful, she thought.
The stars were coming out above, and the silk lanterns below, just as Kraznys’s translator had promised. The brick pyramids were al glimmery with light. But it is dark below, in the streets and plazas and fighting pits. And it is darkest of al in the barracks, where some little boy is feeding scraps to the puppy they gave him when they took away his manhood.
There was a soft step behind her. “Khaleesi.” His voice. “Might I speak frankly?” Dany did not turn. She could not bear to look at him just now. If she did, she might wel slap him again. Or cry. Or kiss him. And never know which was right and which was wrong and which was madness. “Say what you will, ser.”
“When Aegon the Dragon stepped ashore in Westeros, the kings of Vale and Rock and Reach did not rush to hand him their crowns. If you mean to sit his Iron Throne, you must win it as he did, with steel and dragonfire. And that will mean blood on your hands before the thing is done.” Blood and fire, thought Dany. The words of House Targaryen. She had known them all her life.
“The blood of my enemies I will shed gladly. The blood of innocents is another matter. Eight thousand Unsul ied they would offer me. Eight thousand dead babes. Eight thousand strangled dogs.”
“Your Grace,” said Jorah Mormont, “I saw King’s Landing after the Sack. Babes were butchered that day as well, and old men, and children at play. More women were raped than you can count. There is a savage beast in every man, and when you hand that man a sword or spear and send him forth to war, the beast stirs. The scent of blood is all it takes to wake him. Yet I have never heard of these Unsullied raping, nor putting a city to the sword, nor even plundering, save at the express command of those who lead them. Brick they may be, as you say, but if you buy them henceforth the only dogs they’ll kill are those you want dead. And you do have some dogs you want dead, as I recal .”
The Usurper’s dogs. “Yes.” Dany gazed off at the soft colored lights and let the cool salt breeze caress her. “You speak of sacking cities. Answer me this, ser - why have the Dothraki never sacked this city?” She pointed. “Look at the wal s. You can see where they’ve begun to crumble.
There, and there. Do you see any guards on those towers? I don’t. Are they hiding, ser? I saw these sons of the harpy today, al their proud highborn warriors. They dressed in linen skirts, and the fiercest thing about them was their hair. Even a modest khalasar could crack this Astapor like a nut and spill out the rotted meat inside. So tell me, why is that ugly harpy not sitting beside the godsway in Vaes Dothrak among the other stolen gods?”
“You have a dragon’s eye, Khaleesi, that’s plain to see.”
“I wanted an answer, not a compliment.”
“There are two reasons. Astapor’s brave defenders are so much chaff, it’s true. Old names and fat purses who dress up as Ghiscari scourges to pretend they still rule a vast empire. Every one is a high officer. On feastdays they fight mock wars in the pits to demonstrate what brilliant commanders they are, but it’s the eunuchs who do the dying. Al the same, any enemy wanting to sack Astapor would have to know that they’d be facing Unsullied. The slavers would turn out the whole garrison in the city’s defense. The Dothraki have not ridden against Unsullied since they left their braids at the gates of Qohor.”
“And the second reason?” Dany asked.
“Who would attack Astapor?” Ser Jorah asked. “Meereen and Yunkai are rivals but not enemies, the Doom destroyed Valyria, the folk of the eastern hinterlands are al Ghiscari, and beyond the hills lies Lhazar. The Lamb Men, as your Dothraki call them, a notably unwarlike people.”
“Yes,” she agreed, “but north of the slave cities is the Dothraki sea, and two dozen mighty khals who like nothing more than sacking cities and carrying off their people into slavery.”
“Carrying them off where? What good are slaves once you’ve killed the slavers? Valyria is no more, Qarth lies beyond the red waste, and the Nine Free Cities are thousands of leagues to the west. And you may be sure the sons of the harpy give lavishly to every passing khal, just as the magisters do in Pentos and Norvos and Myr. They know that if they feast the horselords and give them gifts, they will soon ride on. It’s cheaper than fighting, and a deal more certain.” Cheaper than fighting, Dany thought. Yes, it might be. If only it could be that easy for her. How pleasant it would be to sail to King’s Landing with her dragons, and pay the boy Joffrey a chest of gold to make him go away.
“Khaleesi?” Ser Jorah prompted, when she had been silent for a long time. He touched her elbow lightly.
Dany shrugged him off . “Viserys would have bought as many Unsul ied as he had the coin for.
But you once said I was like Rhaegar...
“I remember, Daenerys.”
“Your Grace,” she corrected. “Prince Rhaegar led free men into battle, not slaves. Whitebeard said he dubbed his squires himself, and made many other knights as wel .”
“There was no higher honor than to receive your knighthood from the Prince of Dragonstone.”
“Tel me, then - when he touched a man on the shoulder with his sword, what did he say? ‘Go forth and kill the weak’? Or ‘Go forth and defend them’? At the Trident, those brave men Viserys spoke of who died beneath our dragon banners - did they give their lives because they believed in Rhaegar’s cause, or because they had been bought and paid for?” Dany turned to Mormont, crossed her arms, and waited for an answer.
“My queen,” the big man said slowly, “all you say is true. But Rhaegar lost on the Trident. He lost the battle, he lost the war, he lost the kingdom, and he lost his life. His blood swirled downriver with the rubies from his breastplate, and Robert the Usurper rode over his corpse to steal the iron Throne. Rhaegar fought valiantly, Rhaegar fought nobly, Rhaegar fought honorably. And Rhaegar died.”