"All... all of them?"
Kraznys's eyes bulged wide, resembling a dead fish.
Samwell nodded.
"Yes, we want to buy all the Unsullied in Astapor. How many do you have?"
"Eight thousand trained, plus six hundred still in training..."
"Then that's eight thousand six hundred. We'll take them all."
Kraznys stared at Samwell for a long moment, trying to discern if this was some kind of joke. Finally, he said,
"As long as you have enough money, of course you can take them all. But—do you?"
"Of course." Samwell gestured toward Daenerys beside him. "This is the Mother of Dragons."
Kraznys misunderstood his meaning, muttering,
"I've heard of the Mother of Dragons. I know Westeros is a wealthy land, but I also know this girl isn't a queen yet—she might never be. Even with the Unsullied, they might not stand a chance against the steel-clad knights of the Seven Kingdoms. We won't exchange our slaves for empty promises. You must pay with enough gold or goods."
"So, now you admit the Unsullied might not defeat the knights of Westeros?" Samwell teased before continuing, "But don't worry. We have a way to pay."
He pointed to the three dragons playing behind Daenerys.
"We'll pay with a dragon."
Kraznys's eyes widened even further, glinting with undisguised greed and longing.
"A dragon for slaves? How many?"
"One," Daenerys said firmly. "One dragon for eight thousand six hundred Unsullied."
"Three!" Kraznys countered.
"One," Daenerys repeated, her tone resolute.
"Fine! Then we want the largest one!" Kraznys said, pointing to Drogon, the black dragon.
"Agreed," Daenerys replied.
"Excellent! Wait here. I'll gather the other Good Masters." Kraznys could barely contain his excitement.
Astapor's slaves weren't solely owned by Kraznys, and the Unsullied were distributed among several masters. However, Samwell was confident they would all agree.
The people of Astapor craved dragons desperately.
How could they not? The Ghiscari Empire had fought five wars against Valyria, losing each time—all because the Valyrians had dragons, and the Ghiscari did not.
Unsullied could be replenished, but dragons were priceless.
As Kraznys left to confer with the other Good Masters, he instructed his servants to entertain their esteemed guests.
Silk tents were erected on the platform, tables and chairs set out, and fine wine and delicacies offered for their enjoyment.
Samwell guided Daenerys to a seat and poured two glasses of red wine. He noticed her hands trembling slightly.
"What's wrong?"
"This place disgusts me," Daenerys said, her expression grim.
"Slave trade is inherently vile," Samwell said, sipping his wine as his gaze swept over the ranks of Unsullied.
Even in the absence of their masters, the Unsullied stood rigid, like spears driven into the ground. The soldier whose groin had been mutilated earlier stood among them, his chest wound now attracting flies. He paid no attention, completely detached from his own suffering.
The brutal training had stripped away their humanity.
"I was once very lonely," Daenerys murmured. "I had no one but my brother Viserys. As a child, I was always frightened, and the person who should have protected me instead hurt me—sold me, even—just to gain an army."
Her voice tightened with emotion.
"He shouldn't have done that. He was not only my brother but my king. A king should protect their people, defend the weak, as they vow before the gods during their coronation."
She turned to Samwell, her violet eyes blazing.
"Samwell Caesar, you're right. Slaver's Bay is a blight on Essos. It must be eradicated! That is the just thing to do. That is what a true monarch would do!"
Samwell smiled faintly and placed his hand over hers.
She didn't pull away, gripping his hand tightly until her trembling subsided.
Before long, Kraznys returned, accompanied by seven other Good Masters. More Unsullied soldiers marched into the plaza, confirming that the deal had been approved.
"They're all here," Kraznys announced, holding an ornate whip. "Eight thousand six hundred Unsullied. They're yours, as long as you hand over the dragon!"
"Good," Daenerys said as she stood. She still held Samwell's hand, as if drawing strength from him.
"Dragon girl and her lover," Kraznys chuckled, clearly in a good mood. "These Unsullied are fresh. If you're heading west to Westeros, there are plenty of small towns along the way. Perfect for raiding. The spoils will all be yours, as the Unsullied have no interest in wealth.
"Any captives you take can be sent back to Astapor under guard. We'll buy them from you. In ten years, many of those boys could become new Unsullied. It's a virtuous cycle, beneficial to us all."
Daenerys pressed her lips together, silent.
Samwell replied,
"The Mother of Dragons is heartbroken to part with her child."
"Understandable," Kraznys said with a theatrical shrug. "I feel the same selling my Unsullied. But life goes on, right? With this army, you're bound to take that iron chair of yours."
He handed over an iron chain.
"Now, chain your dragon."
Daenerys took the chain without a word and approached Drogon, who was basking in the sun with his siblings.
The black dragon lifted its head, hissing at her approach.
Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, but she managed to clasp the chain around Drogon's neck.
Drogon thrashed his wings, trying to take flight, but Daenerys held him firm.
His shadow loomed over the Good Masters, who wore expressions of unbridled greed.
Daenerys handed the chain to Kraznys, who in turn passed her a lavish whip.
The handle, carved from black dragonbone and inlaid with gold, was adorned with thin leather thongs tipped with gilded claws. The pommel was a golden woman's head, its mouth bearing ivory fangs.
"This is the Harpy's Finger," Kraznys declared, gripping Drogon's chain. "With this, you can command the Unsullied."
Samwell asked,
"So, our deal is complete?"
"Yes, it's done!" Kraznys exclaimed, yanking the chain to pull Drogon closer.
Hand in hand, Samwell and Daenerys stepped onto the platform's edge.
"Unsullied!" Samwell called out. "You are now subjects of the true dragons!"
Daenerys's heart raced. The decisive moment had arrived.
Feeling Samwell's reassuring grip, she took a deep breath, raised the Harpy's Finger high, and shouted,
"Unsullied, take up your spears!"
The plaza echoed with the synchronized sound of eight thousand six hundred soldiers grabbing their spears without hesitation.
"Hey! Dragon girl!" Kraznys yelled from behind them. "Your dragon won't obey me!"
"Of course not," Daenerys said, turning to face him. "A dragon is no slave."
She swung the whip with all her strength, striking Kraznys across the face.
The Good Master stumbled back, screaming as blood streamed from his cheek.
"Dracarys!" Daenerys shouted.
Drogon roared, unfurling his wings.
A jet of black fire spiraled toward Kraznys, engulfing his head in flames. His eyes melted, his hair and beard ignited, and in moments, he wore a burning crown of agony.
The platform descended into chaos as the Good Masters screamed and called for their guards to seize the betrayers.
But then a massive shadow swept over the Plaza of Pride, darkening the sun and casting the entire area into shadow.
The Good Masters froze, looking upward. A gigantic white dragon descended from the sky.
Cleopatra unleashed a torrent of orange-red flames, consuming the platform and its occupants in an instant.
The guards either fled or became charred husks.
"Unsullied!" Daenerys commanded, her voice ringing across the plaza. "Kill the Good Masters! Kill the guards! Kill every slaver holding a whip!"
The Unsullied moved as one, spears thrusting into the hearts of their former masters.
Samwell drew his greatsword and severed the chain binding Drogon.
Cleopatra landed on the platform, stirring up clouds of dust. Flames poured from her jaws, spreading the inferno.
Samwell wrapped his arm around Daenerys's waist and leapt onto Cleopatra's back with her.
The white dragon beat her wings, ascending into the sky.
Drogon, Viserion, and Rhaegal followed closely behind.
"Freedom!" Daenerys cried from above. "Unsullied, in the name of the true dragons, I grant you freedom! Go forth and shatter every chain in this city!"
She threw the Finger of the Harpy down hard, and it smashed into pieces on the red brick floor.
"Freedom! Freedom! Freedom!"
The slave owners fled, cried, begged, and then died under the shadow of the dragon.
The dusty air of Astapor was filled with spears and fire.
Daenerys was sitting on the back of the white dragon, witnessing all this, and suddenly she couldn't help but turned back and kissed the man behind her fiercely.
The hot wind blew past her ears, and at this moment, everything around her seemed to go quiet .
(End of Chapter)
TL: Author pretty rushed their relationship, or am i the only one who thinks so?