Astapor.
The faint light of dawn emerged from the eastern horizon, dispelling the heavy darkness of the night. The blazing inferno consuming the city's grain warehouse no longer seemed as striking in the morning glow.
Ser Katu, known as "Tigerfang," stood grimly before the burning warehouse, his expression dark.
"Have you found who started the fire?" he asked.
"No," replied a Unsullied officer, shaking his head.
Katu pressed his lips tightly together, though he was not surprised by the answer.
While the Unsullied were disciplined, fearless, and unparalleled as light infantry, they had glaring weaknesses. They were woefully inept at tasks beyond combat—searching, interrogating, or tracking down suspects. Entrusting them with such tasks was often less effective than using a pack of dogs, which might at least sniff out the culprit.
Still, Katu had a good idea who was behind the fire: the remnants of Astapor's old nobility.
These former masters had grown increasingly restless since Samwell and Daenerys both left the city.
At first, they merely spread rumors that banning the slave trade had left Astapor without gold to buy food. They claimed the fields along the Worm River would not yield crops for months, if not years.
The rumors sparked panic, and grain prices soared.
Fortunately, Samwell had confiscated large quantities of grain from the noble households he had toppled. Recognizing the brewing crisis, Katu had promptly opened the storehouses to feed the people.
This quelled the panic, and prices fell back to normal.
But now, those same nobles had gone so far as to burn one of the city's main granaries.
Katu knew what would follow: more rumors, more fear, and growing unrest.
"Double the guard on the eastern granary," Katu ordered. "We can't allow a repeat of what happened in the west."
The Unsullied officer hesitated. "Ser, we're already stretched thin inside the city. Should we recall the units stationed outside the walls?"
"No!" Katu snapped. "The search for King Caesar cannot be abandoned."
To him, finding Caesar was more important than maintaining order in Astapor—even if it meant the city descended into chaos or was reduced to ashes.
"Pull two hundred Unsullied from the wall guard to protect the granaries," Katu instructed.
"Yes, Ser."
As the flames gradually subsided, the fire in Katu's heart only grew. He longed to issue an order to wipe out the old nobles entirely but knew such a move would risk plunging the city into even greater turmoil.
If only His Majesty Caesar were here…
---
In a modest tavern near the Great Pyramid, a group of former masters clad in elegant tokar robes gathered.
At the head of the group was a striking blue-haired woman, reclining languidly on a chaise. Beside her sat a broad-shouldered man whose discomfort in the heavy, ostentatious garb was evident.
The man was Cleon, a former slave who had butchered pigs for the late Master Grazdan. It was said that Cleon's speed in slaughtering swine was unmatched in Astapor.
When Grazdan perished in dragonfire, Cleon gained his freedom.
But he felt no gratitude.
He despised the dragonriders who had upended his life.
As a slave, his work had been relatively easy, and he had been well-fed with scraps from the pigs he butchered. His life, though servile, had been comfortable.
Now free, he was forced to toil under the scorching sun along the Worm River, planting beans and barely scraping by.
So when Lady Urho, Grazdan's widow, approached him to burn the foreign rulers' granaries, Cleon seized the opportunity.
His success had made him a hero in the eyes of the old masters.
Today, Cleon not only wore a tokar robe but also shared Lady Urho's bed.
I will become a master myself, Cleon thought, the idea taking root and refusing to let go.
---
"The Unsullied have been reassigned to guard the eastern granary," one of the nobles observed. "It will be difficult to strike again."
"We can set fires elsewhere!" Cleon declared eagerly. After his first successful arson, he had become infatuated with the tactic. "The Unsullied can't guard the entire city!"
"What's the point of burning anything else?" one noble scoffed. "This is our city. Burning it down does us no good."
Cleon fell silent, at a loss for words.
Lady Urho patted his arm reassuringly before addressing the group:
"There's no need to burn any more granaries. Our objective has already been achieved. The seeds of fear have been planted in the hearts of the people. All we need now is the right moment to ignite that fear."
"And what moment is that?"
"I've already contacted the Long Lances and the Company of the Cat," Urho said with a sly smile. "But their asking price is steep. The Urho family cannot cover it alone."
The nobles began murmuring among themselves. One finally spoke:
"The cost is not an issue. We've all hidden away plenty of gold. But are you certain these two mercenary companies can defeat the Unsullied?"
"There are far fewer Unsullied in the city than you think," Lady Urho replied confidently. "The dragon queen took half of them with her when she left. And Ser Katu sent over two thousand more to search for Caesar. That leaves no more than two thousand Unsullied in Astapor."
"But even so, they still outnumber the mercenaries. And mercenaries are no match for Unsullied in combat."
"Don't forget the tens of thousands of fearful, hungry Astapori citizens," Lady Urho said with a knowing smile. "You may not be aware, but after the dragon queen took Yunkai, she marched immediately north to attack Meereen. As soon as she left, Yunkai revolted, overthrew the council she installed, and reinstated slavery."
Cleon jumped at the opportunity: "Then why don't we seek help from the Yunkai masters?"
"The Yunkai lords are already assembling their armies to join Meereen in crushing the dragon queen's forces. Here in Astapor, the mercenaries and the people will be enough to deal with the Unsullied. As long as Caesar and his white dragon are gone, those mindless soldiers are no match for us."
"Where did Caesar go, anyway?" another noble asked. "And what exactly happened that night at the Great Temple?"
Lady Urho chuckled softly. "That's what I wanted to tell you all: the Ghiscari gods have sent their emissary to punish that arrogant outsider. Rest assured, Caesar will never return."
The nobles exchanged delighted looks.
"When do we make our move?"
"That depends on when you're ready to pay the mercenaries," Lady Urho said.
"We can have the gold ready by tomorrow."
Lady Urho laughed.
"Then justice will descend upon Astapor tomorrow!"
(End of Chapter)