The eight-hundred-foot-tall pyramid rose from its vast square base, piercing the clouds. The Queen’s courtyard sat atop it, surrounded by lush greenery, fragrant flowers, and glittering pools. From here, the entire city could be seen: narrow winding alleys and broad brick streets, temples and granaries, hovels and palaces, brothels and bathhouses, gardens and fountains, and the rings of red brick stands at the Great Pit. Beyond the city walls stretched the ash-colored sea, the winding Skahazadhan River, dry brown hills, charred orchards, and scorched fields.

The Queen’s lofty residence resembled the peak of a sacred mountain. Yet the Queen was absent, leaving behind only a worried, anxious Hand of the Queen.

Even Petyr Baelish had to admit that his wit had its limits.

He had appeared before Daenerys and sworn his loyalty on the day she took Meereen. At that time, the starving mobs from Yunkai and Astapor who had followed the Queen flooded into Slaver’s Bay’s largest city, plundering and killing as chaos reigned. The nobles’ magnificent stepped pyramids were spared, but the districts of the common folk suffered terrible damage. Though the Unsullied eventually brought order, Petyr had to use both hard and soft methods, exhausting himself to restore stability and barely succeed in carrying out his plan of driving tigers and taming wolves to establish Daenerys’s rule.

This was not easy. In Westeros, he had always been in his element. Beyond his clever mind, meticulous schemes, and lack of scruples in achieving his ends, he also understood the noble lords. The scorn others held for him as “Littlefinger” had served as his shield.

But in the viper’s nest of Meereen, he had lost that shield. He stood exposed under countless watchful eyes, while enemies lurking in the shadows could act with even less restraint than he. He had to keep his nerves taut at all times, managing politics by day and sleeping with one eye open by night. For the first time since his “awakening,” Petyr found no energy for private plotting, pouring all his experience and intellect into protecting his Queen’s interests.

What sustained him was the fire of hatred in his heart, the desire to help Daenerys Targaryen return to Westeros and exact vengeance on the Tullys, the Arryns, the Lannisters, on all who had once scorned, mocked, judged, or betrayed him. One day, he would sit upon the Iron Throne and rule the Seven Kingdoms in the Queen’s name. He would uncover the truth of the “Note Incident” that had ruined him and forced his exile, and he would take the heads of every conspirator, mounting them on spikes atop the Red Keep’s walls.

That was a dream for the distant future. For now, he had to serve faithfully as Hand of the Queen.

—

The new nobles of Meereen quickly bent under his combination of pressure and persuasion. The city began to run under the rule of the True Dragon banner, producing and stockpiling supplies and arms for its defense and for Daenerys’s future return to Westeros. Yet this was perhaps the only good news Petyr had found since boarding the “last Targaryen’s” ship.

On her journey, the willful young Queen had taken Astapor and Yunkai before reaching Meereen, but through poor handling she left behind chaos she was later forced to clean up.

Astapor: When Daenerys departed, she left a council of three—doctor, scholar, and priest—to rule. She did not consider whether they had the experience to govern, nor did she leave them troops for defense. As expected, the council was soon toppled by a butcher named Cleon. This former slave, known for his speed in slaughtering pigs, claimed to abolish slavery but in truth became the new master. The Butcher King seized the children of former nobles to train as new Unsullied. Every pyramid was turned into a barracks. Death and lies filled the streets. Shops had little food, but were crowded with new slaves. Compared to before Daenerys’s passing, the city was more hellish than ever.

Yunkai: By clever tricks and betrayal, Daenerys captured the city with ease. But perhaps because victory had come too easily, she did not value it. She neither drained its resources, nor set new rule, nor punished the slavers in power. Instead, she simply marched away with multitudes of freed slaves who now had to be fed. Worse still, as soon as she left, Yunkai’s masters restored their old order, viewing her as their greatest threat. They sent envoys to Volantis, Qarth, and other Free Cities, spreading rumors of Daenerys. With allies gathered, they launched war against her.

Cruel when she should have been merciful, merciful when she should have been cruel. Such political immaturity was expected of a novice Queen, and Petyr had little ground to complain.

—

Through careful planning and arrangement, the fledgling Targaryen regime in Meereen barely survived the perilous early days with his support.

But soon the real trial arrived. Yunkai raised new slave armies and mercenaries, and together with the legions of New Ghis, seized Astapor. Then they advanced on Meereen, backed by the fleet of Volantis. Petyr mustered every resource, forging an alliance with the Lhazareen, whom the Dothraki called “lamb men,” beyond the sandstone mountains. He reorganized the Unsullied, mercenaries, and starving followers into a new Meereenese army. He even sent troops south to block the influx of more starving refugees, to prevent famine and plague.

Yet even with every trick employed, the imbalance of strength was stark. In the end, Daenerys took his counsel, and through compromise and concessions, made peace with enemies she might have destroyed.

Thus, Astapor and Yunkai, which had restored slavery, “respected” Daenerys’s liberation of Meereen. In return, Meereen respected their systems. Those in Meereen who wished to be slaves were allowed to leave. The port was opened, allowing ships from the Free Cities and Slaver’s Bay to come and go freely. Compensation was granted to the former great masters of Meereen.

So a fragile peace was born. Yunkai, using the Queen’s Hand to eliminate two rivals, gained monopoly over the slave trade in Slaver’s Bay. They were the true victors in this farce of liberation.

But wary of Daenerys breaking her word, Yunkai left their armies encamped south of Meereen and their warships anchored in its harbor. To mock and humiliate, the masters even built slave pens and auction blocks outside Meereen’s walls, under the gaze of her guards, and reopened the slave market.

One wall apart, two worlds.

“They mock me to my face, showing all the world that I cannot stop them.”

Outside the walls stretched a sea of yellow tents, the New Ghis legions, Ghiscari phalanxes, and Free Companies, defended by trenches dug by slaves. The sight roused the fury of the sleeping dragon. From her high perch, Daenerys swore she would one day crush the slavers and slavery itself.

By reason, this should not have been difficult. The Queen commanded the most feared weapons in the world, her three dragons. And they were growing. But Daenerys did not know how to ride them.

From kittens they had grown to over ten feet long, their appetites swelling as swiftly as their size. No longer could Daenerys feed them by hand. They hunted themselves, devouring sheep, cattle, even, it was said, men.

To prevent worse calamities, Daenerys chose to chain them. Viserion was the first. She led him into a deep pit, where bulls waited. Once he had eaten and grown drowsy, soldiers rushed in with chains. Rhaegal needed more men. While he basked on her terrace, a heavy iron net was thrown over him, and it took three days of struggle to drag him down the stairs. Six men were burned.

But Drogon, the black shadow, largest, fiercest, and wildest, with scales like night and eyes of fire, could not be taken. Three times the soldiers tried. Three times they failed. On the last attempt, he spread his wings at dusk and flew north across the Skahazadhan, toward the Dothraki Sea.

Three dragons. Two in chains. One vanished.

This troubled Petyr deeply. If dragons, unseen for a hundred years, became a burden rather than a weapon, must Daenerys truly rely on the Unsullied to win back Westeros? In the Queen’s name, he issued orders: gather every scrap of lore on dragonriding from any source, to help her master her greatest weapons.

It was no scheme of his own, but wholly for the greater cause. He led the effort himself. But the art of riding dragons had perished with Valyria. Though rewards were promised and countless inquiries made, the ancient secrets remained hidden. At last, only three places seemed to hold such knowledge.

First, the ruins of Valyria. The Doom had slain its people but not destroyed every stone. Perhaps in some forgotten ruin, complete lore still lingered, waiting for discovery.

Second, Dragonstone and the library of King’s Landing. The Targaryens, last of the dragonlords, had lived there for centuries. There might be hints, unless Robert Baratheon had ordered them destroyed.

Finally, rumor spoke of Asshai, far in the southeast beyond the Shadow Lands, where, it was said, not only knowledge of dragonriding remained, but dragons themselves.

The ruins of Valyria were said to be haunted by demons and death. Dragonstone and King’s Landing lay in enemy hands. One day, when Drogon returned, the willful young Queen, ignoring the pleas of her companions, leapt upon his back before all and flew east, seeking the true art of dragonriding.

(To be continued.)

***

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep