"Your Majesty, you must be careful. Three sea vessels have smuggled ten Stone Men infected with greyscale disease into their cargo holds.
They were transported from the Heartbreak Lands along the Rhoyne.
The enemy spies intended to smuggle the Stone Men into the three cities of Slaver's Bay to trigger an outbreak of Greypox, a disease a hundred times more terrifying than greyscale.
This ship, Mermaid, is just one of them. Please order an immediate lockdown of the ports at Meereen and Astapor. No more foreign ships must be allowed to dock."
The once sturdy, broad-shouldered young man with black hair had been transformed by the plague.
His eyes had lost their brightness, the black hair now streaked with silver had turned dry and ashen, and his previously stocky body had become thin and hunched. The once healthy, vibrant skin had taken on a waxy yellow hue, speckled with tiny gray spots.
Even from two meters away, Daenerys could smell the sour stench of vomit on him, mixed with the reek of soiled clothing.
Still, the Dragon Queen simply thickened the mist of flame around her, isolating herself from the air and virus alike. Her expression remained warm and kind.
Even though Daenerys showed not a hint of discrimination, Quentyn still felt deeply ashamed in front of someone so radiant and regal.
He had come to propose marriage, yet now he was in this pitiful state between life and death. And the woman before him was not the ten-foot-tall monster the slave masters had described, but rather exquisitely delicate, dazzling in spirit and appearance—the very embodiment of the mythical image of a beautiful queen or princess.
The young man's face dimmed, and he quietly took a few steps back, increasing the distance between them. He lowered the oil lamp in his hand, casting his face and his disappointed expression into shadow.
"Your Majesty, please keep your distance from us. I… the entire crew—we've all contracted Greypox. You mustn't get too close," he said hoarsely.
Daenerys, seeing this, actually felt a touch of affection toward the young man.
Not romantic affection, but rather a sense that this plain-looking Quentyn had a decent character.
As far as first impressions went, he was leagues ahead of her nephew, who could never stop dreaming of the Iron Throne thousands of miles away.
The Dragon Queen reassured him, "Don't worry. The two Grand Sorcerers of Yi Ti have developed a cure for greyscale. You're all going to be fine."
"What? There's a cure for greyscale?" Quentyn was stunned.
His two companions and several sailors also looked on in disbelief, their faces lighting up with renewed hope.
Their once-dim eyes now sparkled like starlight, filled with an intense longing for life.
Daenerys nodded with certainty. "Two ships en route to Astapor have already been seized. Through interrogating the spies, I learned of the enemy's poisonous scheme.
The spy heading to Meereen completed his mission, throwing Stone Men into a well in the commercial district, which led to a minor outbreak of greyscale.
So, over half a month ago, I began organizing efforts to develop a cure. Now the medicine is nearly complete."
"Your Majesty, are you certain?"
A tall young man with sandy blond hair staggered forward from behind Quentyn.
The queen looked at him carefully, recognizing him as a half-familiar face from a past encounter. She said, "What is there to be uncertain about? Your ship was originally headed for Keywater, wasn't it?
My royal fleet has been patrolling the waters outside Keywater. I didn't expect to find you in Astapor instead."
Thud! The blond young man fell to his knees.
"Thank the gods… We're saved," he sobbed, covering his face.
"What happened to you all? How did you become spies transporting Stone Men?" Daenerys asked curiously.
"Sigh." Quentyn let out a heavy sigh. "Do you remember that meeting in the Merchant's House in Volantis? We were waiting in the courtyard for the 'Widow on the Waterfront' to grant us an audience."
"Ah, yes. The Widow is very well-connected. You sought her help in finding passage to Slaver's Bay?" Daenerys recalled.
"Yes, we brought her a sapphire-inlaid hairpin as a gift. She accepted the gift but refused to help us," said the bald, barrel-chested man with tree-trunk legs.
He had also been at the Merchant's House that day.
"Why? Besides you and your group, Tyrion was there too. In fact, he was right ahead of me in line."
"Tyrion? Which Tyrion?" Quentyn and the others looked puzzled.
"The Imp—Tywin's dwarf son," Daenerys clarified.
"He was in Volantis too?" the blond youth exclaimed in sudden realization. "I remember now! He was the one brawling with the female dwarf in the hall… the noseless one. I didn't realize that was Tyrion. He's even uglier than the rumors."
"Damn, we didn't recognize him that day," he cursed, pounding the deck in frustration.
"Tyrion had the same goal as you, and the Widow barely hesitated before arranging a ship for them," Daenerys said.
"Well…" Quentyn hesitated before replying, "She said we were hiding our true intentions, being dishonest, and showed her disrespect."
"What happened after that? I seem to recall seeing you join a sellsword company—the Windblown, led by the Tattered Prince."
"You saw that?" Quentyn was startled, then gave a bitter smile. "Yes, we signed a contract with the Windblown. In fact, there are over a dozen of their men aboard the Mermaid right now.
We originally planned to accompany them into Slaver's Bay, then slip away when the time was right.
But half a month after you burned the Black Wall, Denzo—the Windblown's deputy commander—came to me with a few Volantene nobles.
They asked if I'd be willing to become a spy for the alliance, disguised as a Dornish wine merchant heading to Keywater. That's what I was telling people—that I was the son of a Dornish wine merchant.
They said they'd arrange a ship to take me to Slaver's Bay before the war broke out. Of course, I jumped at the chance.
That's how I became captain of the Mermaid, leading a crew of sailors arranged by the alliance."
A cold glint flashed in Daenerys's eyes as she asked in a low voice, "Did the Windblown know about the Stone Men?"
The blond youth, still sitting on the ground, gave a bitter smile. "That depends on whom you ask. We're part of the Windblown too, but we had no idea there were Stone Men aboard.
If we'd known, we would've thrown them into the sea long ago. We never would've let it come to this.
All Denzo said was that we needed to gather intelligence on Keywater's defenses, and when the grain in the fields outside ripened, we were to secretly set fire to them."
"Mm, the Allied forces know you're attempting a Great Leap Forward. They want to sabotage your large-scale food production."
"They wish," Dany sneered. "Aside from the fact that there are farmers guarding the wheat fields, under the strict household registration system, it's impossible for outside merchants to leave the city unnoticed."
In the Queen's realm, rural areas were governed by village elders and chiefs, with Dothraki patrols doubling as couriers.
As mentioned before, in the early days after taking Astapor, to prevent conflicts between the nomadic Dothraki and the agrarian villagers, even Dothraki cavalry patrols couldn't enter a village without the village chief's permission.
This system has been maintained to this day. All three cities in Slaver's Bay follow it: each estate elects a village elder, several estates form a village, and the elders take turns serving as village chief. Each village has its own militia, while Dothraki light cavalry patrol the surrounding areas. Villages and cities are connected by a relay station system.
Forget foreign spies—even a Meereenese farmer visiting relatives in Khyzai Pass needs an ID issued by their village elder.
Quentyn shook his head. "We didn't know about any household registration system. The Volantenes told me I was Dornish, and I might receive special treatment.
To match my identity, the Windblown even prepared over a dozen Westerosi mercenaries to serve under me."
At this point, Quentyn glanced back at the sailors on deck, his tone complicated. "Luckily, they were with me."
"How did you contract the disease?" Dany asked.
"When we rounded the Valyrian peninsula, we encountered a fast-moving storm wall. Ships in the storm were like rattles in a child's hand. Half the cargo in the hold toppled, and a sailor found a stone man hidden under an oiled blanket."
"The stone man was alive—he was still moving!" Quentyn stressed, his face pale.
Of course the stone man was alive. Only living stone men spread the infection.
Once dead, they slowly become true stone, and the greyscale virus cannot survive on stone.
"And then? You threw the stone man overboard?"
"We wanted to, but Captain Jack wouldn't allow it. He was a Volantene officer, and most of the crew were loyal to him.
There were two ships that set out together from Volantis: the Mermaid and the Sparrow.
The Sparrow lost its mast in the storm, and the surviving sailors were transferred to the Mermaid.
With too many people, overcrowding, and damp conditions from the waterlogged hold, it didn't take long for sailors to start catching greyscale.
At the time, I demanded Captain Jack immediately throw the stone men overboard. He refused firmly and only tossed over those who showed symptoms after killing them."
"At its peak, the Mermaid had 550 crew members," Quentyn pointed to the sparse sailors on deck, then gestured at the ship's size, smiling bitterly. "Your Grace, look at this ship. So many people. How could an infection be contained?
As more and more got infected and were thrown overboard, sailors once loyal to Captain Jack started siding with me.
The Westerosi mercenaries had already pledged loyalty to me.
When we reached the Gulf of Grief, I finally had enough men to stage a mutiny.
It was a bloody fight that lasted three days. Over two hundred died before Captain Jack finally compromised and agreed to get rid of the stone men.
Perhaps the Seven cursed us, or perhaps too many corpses had gone uncleared. Eventually, the greyscale mutated into the terrifying Grey Plague.
There was no escape—everyone got infected.
Then, Captain Jack turned many of my men against me.
He persuaded everyone: 'We're all going to die anyway, so we might as well sail to Khyzai Pass and overachieve on the Allies' mission.'"
Worried Dany might not understand, Quentyn explained, "The spies were determined and fiercely loyal to the Allies. In fact, apart from us obvious mercenaries, the rest of the sailors were all handpicked diehard loyalists."
Dany nodded and sighed. "I know. Back at the docks in Astapor, to protect their comrades on another ship and not expose the 'Stone Man Plan,' a spy sacrificed his own life without hesitation."
A look of relief crossed Quentyn's face. "Captain Jack had great prestige and influence, and he regained control of the ship.
But he didn't know who I was, nor that I didn't want the Allies' schemes to succeed.
He simply thought we mercenaries mutinied out of fear, so to calm the others, he didn't execute the rebel mercenaries.
Even luckier, he was over sixty—old and frail. Not long after entering Slaver's Bay, he succumbed to the plague.
Then, my companions and I retook control of the Mermaid.
We killed a group of diehard Allied loyalists and revealed our identities to the rest, promising that you would save me—save all of us.
That gave them hope—faint as it was to any rational person. Still, they turned the ship around and sailed it here."
(End of Chapter)
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