A song of Fire and Blood

Chapter 58 – Fire and Chains

---

POV: Daenerys Targaryen – Astapor

The sun burned high over Astapor.

Daenerys stood in the plaza of punishment, the crimson pyramid looming behind her, as the Unsullied stood in perfect ranks, their spears upright, their eyes blank.

Kraznys mo Nakloz stood before her, smirking, his fat hands gripping the whip of command.

"It is done, yes?" he sneered in High Valyrian, though he assumed she could not understand. "The dragon bitch has her little army, and I have the beast."

Behind him, his slaves snickered, as he held out the whip.

"Take it. The Unsullied are yours."

Daenerys reached out—

And took the whip.

At that moment, her tiny dragon, Valerra, perched upon her shoulder, hissed, her white-tan scales glimmering in the sun.

Kraznys turned toward the beast, grinning.

"Now, let us see if this lizard is worth the tra—"

"Dracarys."

Valerra opened her mouth—and a small jet of flame burst forth.

It was not much, just a tiny flicker of dragonfire, but it was enough.

The fire licked across Kraznys' arm, his rich robes igniting.

He screamed, staggering back, clutching his burning flesh, the smell of charred meat filling the air.

Daenerys stepped forward, unsheathing her sword.

With one swift motion, she sliced through his throat.

His head rolled to the sand, and his body collapsed, the fire still smoldering.

A silence fell over the plaza.

The masters stood frozen, their faces white with horror.

Daenerys turned toward the Unsullied, her grip tightening on the whip.

"Kill the masters."

A moment of stillness—

And then, chaos.

---

The Sack of Astapor

The Unsullied moved as one, their spears thrusting, their swords flashing.

The Good Masters screamed, but there was no escape.

Slaves broke their chains, rising up against their oppressors.

The red city ran with blood.

Jorah fought beside her, his blade cutting down any master who resisted.

Missandei, the freed translator, stood at her side, watching as the people of Astapor reclaimed their freedom.

By nightfall, the city was hers.

The Good Masters were dead.

The slaves were free.

And Daenerys Stormborn stood upon the steps of the crimson pyramid, looking down at her new army.

---

The Free Legion

The Unsullied knelt before her.

They had no chains, no masters, only choice.

"You are free men," she told them. "You do not have to fight for me."

"But if you wish to serve," she continued, "then follow me as free warriors."

The Unsullied, silent as ever, rose to their feet—and stamped their spears upon the ground.

Their message was clear.

They followed her.

Other freed slaves joined them. Men and women, some trained warriors, others seeking purpose.

Daenerys now had an army, a fleet, and a city.

Her path was clear.

She would take Yunkai next.

Or so she thought.

---

A Change in Plans

The wind carried whispers.

As Daenerys stood upon the deck of her swan ship, looking out over the bay, a slave messenger approached Missandei.

"The Golden Company…" he whispered, bowing low.

Missandei turned to Daenerys, her face grave.

"Khaleesi, he says that the Golden Company was seen near Yunkai. They march toward Astapor."

Daenerys' eyes narrowed.

Jorah had spoken of the Golden Company. The greatest sellsword army in the world.

An army of exiles. An army of dragon supporters—if the rumors were true.

She could not afford to fight them blindly.

Nor could she risk losing her forces.

Her dream had been to liberate Slaver's Bay—but now, she had another enemy to consider.

She turned to Jorah.

"What do you know of them?"

Jorah sighed, crossing his arms. "They are no common sellswords, Khaleesi. If they are in Slaver's Bay, then there is something larger at play."

She thought of Viserys. Of Aegon Blackfyre, the last pretender of the Company, who had died decades ago.

And of Aerion Targaryen.

The rumors of the red-eyed dragon who led the Company of the Dragon.

Jorah had told her little of him, save for whispers of prophecy and fire,

 She could not ignore this.

Her course was set.

"We abandon the Slaver's Bay campaign," she announced. "We sail for the Rhoyne."

 Jorah raised a brow. "You intend to confront them?"

 "I intend to learn the truth," she said.

The ships unfurled their sails.

And Daenerys sailed toward her destiny