28

A long row of horse-drawn wagons was lined up all the way down the White Bridge. Their endpoint was the newly created Iron Bank of the Swords. Of course, the bank couldn't operate without cold, hard cash. As such, the Iron Bank had been transporting ungodly amounts of gold, silver, and copper coins from Braavos to Harry's city. Being such an important entity in his Kingdom, Harry gave them access to his private peer to load and unload their valuables. On both sea and land, their cargo was guarded better than any King had ever been.

Upper-class women who happened to be doing a bit of shopping in King's Garden were horrified by the sight of several men firing arrows at a wagon driver. As the man slumped over, the bandits quickly jumped onto the wagon, cracked the reins, and yelled "HEEYA!" The horse neighed loudly and started to gallop.

"SHIT! Watch it, lad!" one of the men yelled out when he almost fell off of the back of the wagon. The first part of their plan was done. They had taken control of one of the wagons.

"Sorry, Ern!" the driver yelled. The two men in the back pulled out some hammers and chisels and began cracking open the large lockbox that was sitting alone in the back of the wagon. "The lock is too strong! Try the hinges!" Ern cried out as the wind whipped his dirty hair around. Even though they had managed to steal fancy clothes, their unwashed appearances still drew the eyes of several in that part of the city.

" 'Urry up!" the driver yelled out. They didn't have much time left.

"GOT IT!" one of them yelled in the back. As the lid flew open, both men stared in wonder at the number of gold coins they now had access to. Both reached in and they began filling their pockets and small bags. They weren't dumb. They knew that they could never get away with stealing the entire box. Their plan was to steal enough for them to easily carry, ditch the wagon, and slip through the sewer system that they had already mapped out. Doing that, they could slip back into the Housing District and lay low for a short while before leaving the city in the dead of night. It was the perfect plan. Unfortunately, the driver was beginning to question the validity of their plan.

Behind them, horses were following and were beginning to catch up. He was starting to sweat. A slap on the shoulder made him look back.

"Done! Now it's your turn!" Ern yelled over the noise. The driver nodded and handed him the reins. They quickly changed places, and he began filling his pockets.

Ern never saw the Unsullied warrior hiding against the wall of an alley until it was too late. The Unsullied turned the corner and jammed his thick spear right into the wagon wheel spokes. The sound was as loud as a gunshot as both the spear and the spokes snapped violently. The men screamed as the wagon flipped, sending them flying through the air. The horse neighed in fright as it too was pulled over from the flipping of the wagon. The lockbox full of gold also went flying. Gold coins spilled out, hitting the perfectly smooth stone streets with a thousand metallic clanks. Some bounced around while others rolled. The three men hit the street at full force. The young driver landed on his head and broke his neck. He was dead before his body stopped rolling. The nameless cohort landed wrong on his leg and snapped. He screamed in agony as he reached down and felt the bone protruding from his skin. Ern was the luckiest. He hit the ground perfectly, only gaining a few scrapes and bruises. Panicking, he got up and began running.

Ern had only taken a few steps before an arrow pierced his right buttock. As pain flashed across his ass, he fell to the ground screaming. Reaching behind himself, he felt the arrow sticking out from his ass. Full of adrenaline, he began crawling. He didn't get far before an Unsullied placed a foot on his back and pinned him down. A shadow fell upon them as something large circled high above.

Only two men were dumb enough to run into the chaos and start scooping up the gold coins. Both were quickly dropped by arrows from armed Iron Bank guards. The rest of the crowd took several large steps back, not wanting the same treatment. They were forced to take many more steps back when Daemon landed nearby. From his back, Harry slipped off. Reaching up, he grabbed Daenerys by the waist and lifted her down like a proper gentleman. The two of them had been enjoying a leisurely flight around the city while talking about a few things when Harry received a ping from his drones. Some idiot was causing trouble in the city below. Harry walked up to the destroyed wagon and dead bodies. "What happened?" he asked quickly. It was one of his City Watch who answered.

"Your Grace!" the man said, bowing in respect. "These three stole the bank's treasury wagon. They killed the driver," he explained, pointing them out.

"And the other two?" Harry asked, seeing two men with arrows sticking out of their bodies.

"Thieves who were attempting to steal the fallen gold from the streets," he told him. Harry nodded in understanding. He walked over to one of the wagon thieves. Harry nudged him with his boot. The man was dead. He walked to the other who was still screaming and holding his leg. Harry then walked to the third who was still under the Unsullied's boot. He seemed to be in the best shape, although, Harry would exactly call having an arrow sticking from his ass, being in good shape. The Unsullied stepped back as Harry stepped forward. The man fought against his restraint as Harry picked him up to look him dead in the eyes. Harry plunged into his mind, learning everything about his plan. After he was done, he let the man drop.

It was a good plan, Harry had to admit. Of course, it was always doomed to fail. He had too much security for them to get away. It did, however, tell him of a potential danger to his city … the sewer system. He needed to add magically reinforced gateways throughout the tunnels. Thankfully, he learned about it before it actually became a problem.

"What shall we do with them, Your Grace?" the City Watchman asked.

"Strip the dead of their belongings and toss them in the incinerator. I'll deal with the others," he told them. The Watchmen nodded and began moving the dead bodies to a separate wagon to haul off. Already men from the bank were out picking up the hundreds of gold coins that were scattered all over the place. Harry indicated for Daenerys to join him.

Dany came over to him, trying not to look at the dead bodies being piled onto the back of the wagon. Only moments ago, she was enjoying an incredible flight around the city and sea with the man that she hoped to get better acquainted with … physically that is. When he told her of his desire to begin multiple Noble lines here in Essos, she obviously wanted one of her own. As far as she knew, she was the last Targaryen alive. While she wasn't as fanatical about family lineage as her deceased brother, she did want her family line to carry on. Being granted a Title along with some land to rule would certainly be a good first step.

"How would you deal with them, Dany?" Harry suddenly asked her. Dany flushed red. "They stole money from the bank and in the process, killed an innocent man."

"W-Well … I …" she started stuttering before remembering some of the things that Cersei had taught her. She took a deep breath and thought about what she wanted to say before actually saying anything. "Both are capital crimes. Both are punishable by death," she told him. "Hang them, perhaps?" she asked, not exactly sure why he was asking her opinion.

"Take them both to the gallows and hang them immediately," Harry stated with authority.

"At once, Your Grace!" The Watchman bowed before the two screaming men were dragged off.

Daenerys didn't know why, but her stomach was churning and her heart was hammering in her chest. Harry placed his hand on her lower back and led her back to Daemon. "You were correct, Dany. Both men should have been executed. For one, stealing from the Iron Bank is no better than stealing directly from my Kingdom's coffers. In fact, it is stealing directly from me, since I have multiple deals going with the bank. Murder, of course, cannot go unpunished. Under certain circumstances, prison time with forced labor might be a better option, but this killing happened while committing another crime. It is unforgivable. I'm proud of you for making the difficult, but correct decision," he praised her. Dany blushed heavily from his praise.

"If you are to one day become the first of your own Great House, you must be able to make these kinds of decisions. They won't always be easy, but they are necessary," he told her. What he said almost flew right over her head. Thankfully, she had been hanging on his every word. Her eyes nearly bugged out when she finally understood what he said. She turned to him with a look of surprise and wonder on her pretty face. Harry chuckled.

"Yes, you heard me right. You are not ready right now, but I hope you will be soon," he said to her.

Dany's face suddenly felt very hot. She was incredibly embarrassed but pleased nonetheless. Deciding to just act like the young woman that she was, she squealed with happiness and jumped into his arms. She closed her eyes and relished in the sensation of his strong arms wrapped around her small body. All she wanted was to tilt her head upward and kiss him deeply. Sadly, she didn't have that kind of confidence. Not yet anyways … but she was working on it. Both she and Myrcella were practicing to become more confident women when in private. It was slow going, but she hoped to be better soon. She had better if she was planning on becoming Lady Daenerys of House Targaryen, she thought to herself while holding back a girlish squeak of excitement. She put that out of her mind for the time being. She was too busy subtly feeling up his hard muscles and rubbing her cheek against his chest.

The Dread Lord of Essos

"Their heads … Off with them!" Joffrey shouted in front of the massive crowd. His hair was buzzed short, his front teeth were missing, and his face was slightly warped and misshapen. Scars and divots could be seen on his face where his cousin had brutally beaten him. No one knew, but often he had been having nightmares about that day. His beastly cousin, kicking in his door, and beating him half to death … It wasn't conducive to a good night's sleep. Some would say that his temperament had gotten worse since that day, but those people didn't know the real Joffrey Baratheon.

Since Harold had left, Joffrey had been trying to become as beloved to the peasants as his bastard cousin had been. He had heard the tales from his men … How Harold rode down the dirtiest streets of Flea Bottom on his shining white steed, giving food and money to those foul vermin. Joffrey sneered at the thought. In return, they practically threw themselves at him, touching any part of him that they could reach, thanking him for his generosity and kindness, and begging him to stay and be their King. That part made Joffrey's skin crawl. Was he not good enough for the wretched filth of this crumbling city?

Joffrey could barely admit to himself that he was jealous. The bastard wasn't even a true born, and yet, the idiots of this city wanted him to rule? They didn't know the true man behind his shiny armor. They had never seen the rage that burned in his bright, green eyes. They never knew the power behind his fists as they tore flesh and broke teeth. They never knew what kind of monster he truly was, and yet, they loved him.

So despite his better judgment, he too went down to the slums of King's Landing, hoping that the peasants would see fit to shower him with the same amount of verbal pleasantries that they had with his assailant. After all, he was Joffrey "The Provider" … the name that he bestowed upon himself. 'I am feeding these sewer rats, and they would do well to remember that,' Joffrey thought as he covered his face with a rag sprinkled with scented perfumes. The scent in that part of the city was horrendous.

Unfortunately, things didn't go as planned. Instead of worshiping him, people looked upon him with derision. He seemed to forget that he had his men wandering the city, collecting a "Food Tax" from the city dwellers. When a family received two loaves of bread, Joffrey's men would take one to help feed his army. If they received a kilo of salted, dried meat, his men would take half … sometimes more if they were hungry. Soldiers wouldn't fight with empty stomachs after all, and these peasants were hiding behind the thick walls of the city, enjoying his gracious protection. They should happily give their food to the cause. Of course, he kept everything quiet. There was no need to inform his cousin about this. Joffrey wanted that bastard as far away from him and his Kingdom as humanly possible. His face ached just from thinking about the consequences should he find out.

So as his horse trotted through the filth and grime of the slums, surrounded by his armed guards of course, Joffrey did nothing but sneer and wrinkle his nose at them. Harold, of course, was surrounded by no one. He proudly traveled through their parts of the city, confident and with a smile on his beautiful face. He acted as though he were one of them. He didn't gag at the horrible smells. He didn't rear back when someone wanted to touch him. He let them know that they were valued and loved. So when a small child walked up to Joffrey's horse to touch it, and the King kicked the child in the chest, sending him falling into the road unmoving, they had had enough. They wanted THEIR king back.

Joffrey's horse reared back with a loud neigh as the mob closed in, screaming and throwing rotten fruits and vegetables at him and his guards. Unable to hold on, Joffrey flipped off of the back of his steed, landing in multiple piles of human shit. Joffrey immediately gagged before vomiting. The stench at road level was indescribable. As he looked up, he saw the crowd closing in.

"Their heads … Off with them!" Joffrey shouted in front of the massive crowd. He saw his Kingsguards pull their swords to defend him. People were screaming as they were put to the sword. Joffrey smiled evilly at the sight but lost his smile when two of his guards were dropped, beating over the head with a thick wooden club. As their bodies fell, the crowd engulfed them, tearing and ripping at their armor. Joffrey and his men were forced back.

"Hurry, My King!" one of his Kingsguard yelled. Joffrey grabbed his outstretched hand and was pulled onto the back of his horse. Joffrey held on tightly as his guard spun the horse around, and they began galloping as fast as possible back to the Red Keep. Several people were trampled as they rode. Both Joffrey and his guard were hit with rocks, sticks, and even piles of shit as they broke free of Flea Bottom. Joffrey looked back as more and more people began spilling out of their houses and shops and onto the streets. Things weren't looking good for him as the rioters shouted, "KING HAROLD!" repeatedly and at the top of their lungs.

What Joffrey didn't know was that Harold was fully aware of his so-called "Food Tax". He let it continue because he wanted to see how long it would take until Joffrey had gone too far, and more importantly, what the consequences would be. There was another benefit to it. The more the Seven Kingdoms spiraled into chaos, the better it was for his business. People wanted to do business with someone that was dependable and consistent. As many turned from Westeros, they inevitably came to him. Perhaps if Westeros got bad enough, Harold might decide to dip his toes in and gain even more influence within the region. He would have to wait and see.

The Dread Lord of Essos

The bald eunuch, Varys, looked out of a castle window and saw several large plumes of black smoke coming from several different parts of the city. He closed his eyes and sighed. He was afraid that this might happen.

He had been receiving reports from his little birds about tensions rising within the slums of King's Landing. It seemed that Joffrey's Food Tax wasn't going over well with the poor of the city. Who would have thought? But it wasn't only the taxes that rankled them.

While Harold was here, they could actively see their lives getting better. When he had gone, they were forced to hear tales about his city, where even the poorest lived in luxury and went to bed at night, clean and with full bellies. It was a tale that they could easily believe, for they had seen his kindness and generosity. After he had left, their lives had gotten progressively worse until they were nearing pre-Harold levels of wretchedness, and their anger was being directed at the man responsible for the fall … King Joffrey.

Varys was tired as he leaned against the window sill. His plans had not been going well these last few months, and he could place the blame squarely on Harold's broad shoulders. Even so, there was little to be done about it. Viserys was dead … done in by his own greed and madness. Daenerys was now firmly in the clutches of the Essosi King. Even before that, their plans to use Dothraki savages to invade Westeros had to be scrapped when Harold suddenly took control of the Disputed Lands and shifted the balance of power. The whole thing gave him a headache. How they would continue with their grand plan, he did not know. The only thing that he was sure of was that the Seven Kingdoms was volatile … King's Landing especially. He was very glad to have foreseen such an outcome. It didn't take a Grandmaester level of intelligence to do so. He knew that Joffrey was rotten to the core, and it was only a matter of time before he met his ultimate fate. As he looked out on the city below, he could see that perhaps Joffrey's fate was well on its way.