The news that Daenerys had been captured by Wright and was being held under house arrest by the Pahl family had spread throughout Meereen. The male members of the Pahl family were now busy rallying their allies, running around the city day and night. At first, they returned home each evening with worried expressions, but now they seemed more optimistic.
Daenerys' husband was outside the city, and the Great Masters, fearing that Daenerys might be rescued, had invited Wright and his entourage to stay in the Great Pyramid. The pyramid offered more space and was easier to defend.
On the terrace at the top of the pyramid, Wright was lifting stone weights to train his strength. His three handmaidens stood behind him, preparing a basin of water, towels, and freshly squeezed juice. Daenerys sat nearby, her four handmaidens standing behind her.
For now, they had nothing to do but wait and see how the situation in Meereen would unfold.
"The women of House Targaryen aren't so different from us after all!"
"I heard she's already 16, but her figure is still so scrawny. My mother was a mature woman by the time she had me."
"Do you think it's polite to talk about me like this in front of me?" Daenerys, overhearing the little girls gossiping about her, finally couldn't hold back.
"We're just stating facts!" The eldest of the three girls, only seven years old, glared at Daenerys without fear.
The three girls, from the great families of Volantis, had been sent to serve Wright by their elders. Knowing they couldn't return to their families, they had sworn to support each other as sisters.
"House Targaryen is the oldest dragonlord family. We soar through the skies!" Daenerys lifted her chin proudly. Though she couldn't yet ride her dragons, her ancestors had been true dragonriders.
"Lord Wright has dragons too!"
"I have two dragons!"
Daenerys had initially felt some affinity for the three pure-blooded Valyrian girls, but they were fiercely loyal to Wright. Every conversation between them ended in an argument. Listening to the women bicker was one of Wright's few pleasures these days.
"Uncle." One of the girls called out as Berricio Stangoni entered.
Berricio, seeing Wright still lifting stones, asked his niece, "Aria, how much longer will Lord Wright be?"
"He lifts the stones 100 times a day. He'll be done soon." Little Aria stifled a laugh, covering her mouth as she spoke.
"90, 91, 100." With a thud, Wright tossed the heavy stone aside. The little handmaiden immediately handed him a wet towel and a glass of juice.
Wright took a sip and wiped his sweat. "Berricio, what brings you here?"
Berricio touched the dragon-shaped pendant on his chest but didn't speak, indicating that the matter concerned the Dragon Cult or dragons.
"It's fine. Go ahead." Wright could always cast a soundproofing spell if needed. Having Daenerys here wasn't an issue.
"Lord Wright, this is a message from Volantis." Berricio handed over a scroll.
Wright unrolled it and read:
Cousin Andrew's efforts to spread the Dragon Cult had gone surprisingly well. First, the upper echelons of Volantis were the most enthusiastic, with over a dozen families already joining. Second, the natives of Dragonstone were ecstatic. Odahviing had been resting on the island while overseeing the construction of the King's Road, and the locals had begun worshiping him as a god. They were so excited that they even offered their wives and daughters to Wright, hoping to bear his children. Andrew was discussing with Stannis the possibility of relocating these people, who knew little beyond raising sheep, to Skull Island by ship.
"Bring me some parchment!" Wright said, continuing to read the letter. One of the little handmaidens hurried into the pyramid.
The navy commander of Tyrosh, Aurane Velaryon; the Coast Defenser Officr, Hobber Redwyne; the captain of the guard, Balon Swann; the tax officer, Allard Seaworth; and the Dragon Guard, led by Dickon Tarly and his thirteen men, had all joined the Dragon Cult. Ashara Dayne had somehow heard about it and demanded a dragon pendant. Andrew, unable to endure her pestering, gave her one, but Ashara ran off before even hearing the full doctrine.
The people of Tyrosh remained steadfast in their faith in the Seven, making further progress difficult for now. Andrew planned to head to King's Landing next, starting with the magic school to recruit more followers.
Wright took the parchment from the handmaiden, his fingers crackling with electricity as he burned words into the surface, writing a reply.
He gave Andrew two suggestions: First, inform Renly and Robert about the Dragon Cult's activities. Second, delete all the nonsense about Wright having a divine bloodline, born under a golden light at Storm's End, able to grow crops with a touch of his hand, or impregnate women with dragon offspring by touching their bellies!
Wright then simplified the story of Akatosh as the origin of dragons, attributing all other dragon legends to Odahviing, making him out to be a heroic and mighty figure. As for those who knew High Valyrian and might question the inconsistencies between the stories and Odahviing's name (which meant snow, hunter, and wing), Andrew would have to come up with more stories to smooth things over. Wright couldn't do everything himself.
Wright: "Send this letter to Andrew Estermont as soon as possible."
"Understood." Berricio took the parchment and tucked it into his pocket.
"Aren't you a pure-blooded Valyrian? Shouldn't you be loyal to the Targaryens, who share the same bloodline? Why would you bow and scrape before a black-haired Westerosi?" Daenerys sneered from the side. She had assumed that, sharing the same blood, the Golden Company would have succeeded in allying with the Volantene multiple times, yet they had always failed.
Berricio straightened his back. "The Volantene have sworn loyalty to the Dragonlord for thousands of years, and Lord Wright is the mightiest Dragonlord."
"Aren't we Targaryens also Dragonlord?" Daenerys lifted her chin.
"You're quite bold, trying to turn a loyal man against me right in front of me?" Wright looked at Daenerys, pointing to a vertical scar just below her navel.
The clothes everyone wore were thin. Beneath Daenerys's sheer garments, a hand-length scar ran from her navel down to her lower abdomen. Wright had healed her internal injuries but deliberately left a scar as a reminder.
Daenerys ran her fingers over the scar, noticing how Wright's own body was covered in wounds as well. She held her tongue, fearing that he might give her a few more unsightly scars.
"The Targaryens are merely a cadet branch. The highest and purest Valyrian blood belongs only to the Fourteen Dragonlord Families," said seven-year-old Cynnie Pennymion. Her father, Dofas, had personally witnessed Wright's battle with the Valyrian ancestor and loved boasting about it.
Daenerys smirked. "It's the Forty Dragonlord families, not Fourteen! You can't even remember the numbers correctly, little sister."
Wright walked to the side and sat down. "Berricio, it seems Daenerys has some gaps in her education. Explain it to her properly."
Berricio nodded. "Yes, Lord Wright. Daenerys, we have discovered the ancient tombs of a ancient Dragon King. The stone carvings inside are now stored in the Black Walls of Volantis. You and I share the same Valyrian blood, all descended from these fourteen ancestors. The Targaryens are the descendants of House Ahzidal, while my surname, Stangoni, is a branch of House Morokei."
Daenerys had never heard of any of this before. She pointed at Wright. "This is Valyrian business. What does it have to do with him?"
Three handmaidens took out razors, lathered Wright's chin with foam, and began shaving his beard. The Baratheons were notoriously hairy, and as he aged, going three days without shaving left his chin covered in coarse black stubble—something Wright detested.
Enjoying the service, Wright closed his eyes and asked, "Do you know the name of my dragon?"
Daenerys replied, "Any merchant who's been to Tyrosh knows it—Odahviing."
Wright smirked. "The Fourteen Dragon Kings' father—his dragon was also named Odahviing! A white-scaled dragon with red markings!"
Daenerys scoffed. "So what? My nephew is named Aegon. Our family has had six Aegons, five of whom sat the Iron Throne."
Wright leaned back. "I only need you to understand one thing: every dragon in this world is a descendant of Odahviing. A powerful sorcerer tore through time and space to bring dragons into this world, injecting magic into what was once a land lacking in it. And I, along with your ancestors, share that same heritage."
"You're saying all this just to make me serve you? Keep dreaming." Daenerys found it all too far-fetched to believe.
Wright tilted his head at her. "The world is vast—there's room for thousands, maybe tens of thousands of dragons to thrive. Robert spared your lives back then. You should have fled far away. There are countless unclaimed lands, yet you set your sights on Westeros? That path only leads to your death."
"Wright Baratheon, what exactly are you after?" Daenerys demanded.
Wright: "I propose a deal. Give me your two dragons. As long as you stay out of the Nine Free Cities, I won't interfere with whatever else you do. The same goes for your nephew Aegon."
"You're delusional! Next year, when our dragons are ready to be ridden, yours will no longer be a threat. Our three dragons will tear you to pieces!" Daenerys snapped.
With his beard neatly trimmed, Wright stood and walked up to her.
"What a pitiful girl. Later, why don't you ask them how large Odahviing is? The Golden Company has been feeding you lies, filling your head with false knowledge. They're only using you! A princess? You're nothing more than a tool, a bargaining chip."
Wright traced his fingers along the scar below her navel, thinking to himself that her internal organs were fully healed. Without her dragons, Daenerys was indeed a valuable bargaining chip. Perhaps he could give her to Theon, securing the Ironborn's loyalty. Or he could present her to Robert and let her bear a few bastards.
"You want me to bear your children?" Daenerys stood still, eyes locked onto Wright, tension clear in her gaze.
"Fuck! Your thinking is too erratic—we're not even on the same wavelength." Wright was furious. "They say the people of your family are either brilliant or mad. I've met a few Targaryens, and after comparing, I'm convinced you're destined to be the mad one!"
Daenerys looked up at Wright. "By 'brilliant,' are you talking about my brother, Rhaegar?"
"Brynden Rivers and Aemon Targaryen!" Wright didn't want to continue the conversation and walked straight into the pyramid.
Daenerys couldn't immediately recall who those two were. Wright had said too many strange things today, so she first turned to Berricio and asked about Odahviing's size. Berricio looked at the grand pyramid, which stood roughly 250 meters tall, and began gesturing with his hands.
---
The Golden Company was active on the vast grasslands of the Dothraki Sea, while Aegon Targaryen, operating under the alias Young Griff, had already secretly arrived at New Ghis on the island of Yeen in the southern Summer Sea, along with his trusted men and several officials from Meereen.
On behalf of his uncle-in-law, Hizdahr, Aegon had signed a series of treaties with New Ghis. The agreements stated that once Meereen became a sovereign nation, it would support New Ghis in reclaiming territory on the mainland. The lands were divided accordingly: Yunkai, Astapor, and two nearby islands would belong to the Meereenese Empire, while all lands east of the Ghiscar region would belong to the newly established Ghiscari Empire. Meereen would also provide military support to attack Qarth.
In a lavish guest chamber, Haldon the Halfmaester rushed in. "Something big has happened!"
"What is it?" Aegon and his companions, who had been resting, immediately gathered.
Haldon handed him a letter. "Wright Baratheon infiltrated a vineyard outside Meereen, kidnapped Daenerys, and killed Prince Quentyn of Dorne along with Khal Drogo! He also slaughtered hundreds of Drogo's men. Meereen is now under lockdown, and Wright is hiding inside the grand pyramid!"
"We need to mobilize our forces and rescue Daenerys!" Ser Rolly Duckfield shouted.
"Wait," Aegon said, reading the letter. "The report says Wright came alone—no dragon, no army? I suspect the information is inaccurate."
Haldon shook his head. "The intelligence is very precise. Wright didn't even try to conceal himself after being identified. He walked openly along Valyrian Road, fought the Dothraki in broad daylight, and then entered Meereen with Daenerys. Anyone with eyes saw it."
Bang!
Aegon slammed his fist on the table. Daenerys being captured completely disrupted their plans. "That damn Wright!"
"We anticipated that Wright might arrive with his dragon or bring an army, and we had countermeasures prepared. But we never considered that a high-ranking lord would dare to charge into Meereen alone! Do we have a chance to kill him?" Rolly asked, still hopeful.
Aegon shook his head. "Even without his dragon, we in the Golden Company know better than anyone what kind of strength Wright possesses. The only way to kill him is through sheer numbers!"
Rolly's eyes lit up. "Euron Crow's Eye can fight Wright to a standstill, can't he? We gave him so much gold—it's time for him to repay us."
Aegon considered this. "One of our agreements with Euron was that once Daenerys' husband became king of Meereen, we would kill him and then marry Daenerys to Euron. Now that Daenerys has been captured—Haldon, send a raven to Asshai. Tell Euron to bring his fleet to Meereen immediately!"
"I'll handle it at once," Haldon said.
"Wait," Aegon added. "We also need to rally the Dothraki, stoking their anger to avenge Khal Drogo. And notify our allies in the Nine Free Cities to prepare for war!"
Haldon hesitated. "Volantis and Lys are now allied with Wright, and Braavos won't send troops either."
Rolly frowned. "Why not? Doesn't Braavos have a deep blood feud with Wright?"
Haldon sighed bitterly. "Wright killed two consecutive Sealords. The current Sealord was also threatened by him and has decided to step down."
"Coward!" Aegon slammed the table again. "What about Prince Oberyn of Dorne? Quentyn is dead—Dorne must join the war!"
Hearing Oberyn's name, Septa Lemore, who had been packing clothes, paused her work. She hadn't received any word from Oberyn in a long time. Though she had little interest in war, she deeply missed her daughter, Tyene.
Haldon replied, "There are rumors that Oberyn is hiding in Lys under an alias, drowning himself in pleasure houses. But the information is unconfirmed."
Aegon's expression darkened. "Exaggerate the report of Quentyn's death and send it to Prince Doran. Contact Euron, Daenerys' husband, our operatives inside Meereen—mobilize everyone we can to lay siege to the city!"
Rolly's voice was eager. "Shall we raise your banner?"
Aegon thought for a moment. "No. For now, we fight under the banner of the Anti-Baratheon Alliance—the Crowned stag's skull. Many of the previous reports we spread were falsehoods, but after this war, once they have real blood feuds with Wright, that will be the perfect time for House Targaryen's three-headed dragon banner to rise again."