Bab 324: Chapter 325: The Green Priestess
At dusk, the chaos in Astapor gradually subsided.
Jorah Mormont and Barristan Selmy ascended the red-brick steps of the pyramid.
Astapor's pyramid was modeled after the Great Pyramid of Old Ghis, which had been reduced to ruins by the dragons of Valyria.
The pyramid stood thirty-three stories tall—a number said to hold divine significance to the Ghiscari gods, much like the number seven in Westeros.
The ruler's hall was at the pyramid's center, between the sixteenth and seventeenth levels.
When the two knights arrived, the bronze doors of the hall were wide open, guarded by dozens of Unsullied soldiers.
A slave girl approached them, speaking in the Common Tongue of Westeros:
"Are you Ser Barristan and Ser Jorah?"
"Yes, we are," Jorah replied.
"Please follow me."
Jorah and Barristan exchanged a glance before following her into the hall.
By now, they had pieced together how the chaos in the city had come to be but still struggled to believe it. Their queen and Caesar had used a simple ruse to take over Astapor.
Of course, Barristan had noticed the city's vulnerabilities upon arrival. The walls were old and crumbling, and aside from the Unsullied, the guards had been corrupted by years of luxury and complacency.
Astapor's reliance on the Unsullied's fearsome reputation had made it a decaying shell of its former self.
Even so, conquering a city with just two people, four dragons, and some clever trickery seemed fantastical, almost dreamlike.
The hall they entered was grand and luxurious. Rows of fire bowls lined the walls, illuminating the high ceiling supported by black oak beams. The floor was covered with silk carpets from Qarth, and the walls displayed priceless, faded oil paintings depicting the glory of the Ghiscari Empire.
At the center of the hall stood a raised platform with eight seats. Six of them were empty, while the central two were occupied by Samwell and Daenerys.
Before them knelt an Unsullied officer.
The number of spikes on an Unsullied's helmet indicated their rank. The man kneeling before them had three spikes, marking him as a high-ranking officer.
As Jorah and Barristan entered, they saw Samwell issuing commands:
"Any family members of the Good Masters who surrender can live, as can their guards if they lay down their weapons. However, they will lose their noble status and become commoners."
"And all their slaves will be granted freedom," Daenerys added firmly. "From this day forward, Astapor is to abolish the slave trade."
"Yes, Your Grace," the Unsullied officer, Grey Worm, replied.
The Unsullied had no personal names. Each day, they drew lots to determine their temporary names—a practice that had now been abolished.
For most of them, their original names were long forgotten, as they had been taken from them as enslaved children. Now, their final drawn names would become their permanent ones.
"Your Grace," Jorah stepped forward and bowed, addressing Daenerys. "If the slave trade is abolished, how will the people of Astapor make a living?"
Daenerys froze, the weight of the question evident. Instinctively, she turned to Samwell for guidance.
Samwell asked, "The Worm River should be able to irrigate a significant amount of farmland, correct? What crops do the people of Astapor usually grow?"
The Unsullied officers remained silent—they were trained for war, not agriculture.
Finally, the slave girl Missandei answered:
"Your Graces, Astapor can grow sweet potatoes, beans, and olives. However, the Good Masters usually import large quantities of grain from New Ghis and Qarth."
Astapor's inability to sustain its own food supply didn't surprise Samwell.
The city's wealth from the slave trade had made farming unnecessary for its ruling class.
"Then let them dig irrigation canals along the Worm River and cultivate farmland to grow these crops," Samwell said. "Ser Katu, organize the people to begin this work."
"Yes, Your Grace," Katu replied, though his expression showed reluctance.
Samwell understood Katu's hesitation; the knight was a warrior, not an administrator. However, with no other candidates, Samwell had little choice.
He didn't plan to linger in Astapor. Being so far from Westeros, the city was not part of his immediate ambitions. His primary objectives here were Daenerys, her dragons, and the Unsullied army.
With those secured, he was ready to leave.
Appointing Katu to oversee Astapor's agriculture was merely a temporary measure. Samwell harbored no illusions—without the slave trade, the city's decline was almost inevitable.
If and when he conquered Westeros and extended his influence to Essos, he might address the problems in Slaver's Bay. But for now, Astapor's fate was beyond his reach.
"Does Astapor have any significant mineral resources?" Daenerys asked, eager to contribute to the city's future.
Missandei nodded. "The Ghiscari Hills are rich in copper deposits."
Daenerys's face lit up.
"Then we can organize mining operations for copper!"
Samwell squeezed her hand gently and smiled.
"Dany, this isn't the Bronze Age. Copper isn't worth much anymore."
"Oh," Daenerys said, her excitement fading. She quickly asked, "What about gold or silver mines?"
Missandei shook her head.
Samwell sighed inwardly. If Astapor had gold or silver mines, it wouldn't have relied so heavily on the slave trade.
Daenerys seemed to realize her limited knowledge of governance but was determined to try. Driven by a sense of responsibility, she resolved to help the city.
"I think we should consult Astapor's elders and scholars," she suggested. "And I'd also like to speak with the priestesses of the Temple of Graces."
In response to her request, the Unsullied brought in several elders and scholars.
However, the priestesses of the Temple of Graces refused to attend, claiming that Samwell and Daenerys were blasphemers.
"Shall we force them to come?" an Unsullied officer asked.
The Unsullied held no reverence for the Ghiscari gods. Their devotion lay with their own mysterious deity, known to outsiders as the Spear Maiden or the Bride of War.
"No," Daenerys replied. "We must respect the faith of Astapor's people."
She turned her attention to the elders and began discussing the city's future.
Samwell quickly grew bored. Most of the suggestions were predictable and uninspired—some even proposed reinstating the slave trade.
"Dany, you handle this. I'm going to visit the Temple of Graces," Samwell said, rising to leave.
"All right," Daenerys replied. "Be careful."
Outside the pyramid, Samwell mounted his white dragon and flew toward the Temple of Graces.
The temple, with its golden domed roof, stood out prominently in the red-brick city.
Arriving at the temple, Samwell found it untouched by the recent chaos, with Unsullied guards stationed outside.
Accompanied by a small escort, he entered the grand hall.
The temple's interior was lit by candlelight, with over a hundred women in colorful robes seated on the floor, praying silently.
Among them, the women in green robes held the highest rank, serving as the temple's high priestesses, known as the Green Graces.
The Green Grace of Astapor sat at the center of the hall. Her hair was snow-white, her skin as delicate as parchment, and her age indeterminate—she seemed both middle-aged and elderly. Her emerald-green eyes exuded a hypnotic intensity.
Samwell recognized her from the previous evening, when she had addressed the crowd in the Plaza of Pride.
"King Caesar, welcome to the Temple of Graces," the Green Grace said in a calm, gentle voice.
Samwell approached her with a polite smile.
"How should I address you?"
"Graznys."
"Lady Graznys, it seems you disapprove of our rule over Astapor."
"Yes," Graznys replied candidly.
"Why? Is it because we don't worship the Ghiscari gods? Or because we abolished slavery?"
"Neither," Graznys said, her green eyes fixed on him. "It's because you are destined to bring ruin to Astapor."
(End of Chapter)
TL;Busy.
Status Power Mingguan
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