The journey to Astapor was longer than Tristan had expected.
After leaving King's Landing, they continued flying for many long hours, leaving Westeros behind.
Bahamut flew at the front, followed by Ignil, Lusirion, and Goldron.
Ned Stark and Sansa rode with Tristan, while Jon flew on one of the other dragons, with Arya and Tyrion riding the third.
At first, everyone felt relieved.
They had succeeded.
Ned was free.
Sansa was safe.
And now they could return to Astapor.
But Tristan did not feel relieved.
Ever since they had left King's Landing, something had been bothering him.
That feeling had not disappeared.
It had grown stronger with every passing hour.
He kept looking toward the east.
Ned said,
"You're worried about something."
Tristan did not answer immediately.
Then he said,
"Astapor."
Ned looked at him.
"What about it?"
"I don't know."
He was silent for a moment.
"But I have a feeling something happened there."
Jon was close enough to hear him.
He said,
"Tyrion, have you heard anything from the spies?"
Tyrion shook his head.
"Nothing since we left."
Jon said,
"That is strange."
Tyrion replied,
"I was thinking the same thing."
Arya interrupted,
"Maybe there is nothing wrong."
Tyrion looked at her.
"I want to believe that."
But Tristan said nothing.
He continued flying.
The closer they came to Slaver's Bay, the heavier his heart became.
Then, after several more hours, Astapor appeared on the horizon.
But it was not the Astapor they had left behind.
Tristan stopped breathing for a moment.
The city was covered in smoke.
Black columns rose into the sky.
Some buildings had completely collapsed.
The walls surrounding the city were broken in several places.
The districts that had once been full of life were gone.
Astapor looked as though an army of monsters had passed over it.
Jon said quietly,
"No…"
No one answered.
The dragons flew closer.
The lower they descended, the clearer the scene became.
The streets were covered in ash.
Houses were burned.
Shops were destroyed.
The ships in the harbor were either burned or sunk.
Even the palace Tristan had been using was half-destroyed.
Tyrion said,
"My gods…"
Ned stared at the city in silence.
Sansa covered her mouth with her hand.
"What happened?"
No one answered her.
Bahamut landed outside the city.
Tristan jumped from him before he had even fully touched the ground.
He ran toward the gates.
Jon followed.
Tyrion, Arya, Ned, and Sansa followed them.
But there were no soldiers at the gate.
No guards.
No voices.
Only silence.
Tristan entered the city.
He stopped.
One of the squares that had been crowded with people only days earlier was covered in ash.
He took a few steps.
He found a broken sword on the ground.
Then a shield.
Then the body of one of Astapor's soldiers.
Tristan clenched his fist.
Jon said,
"Tristan…"
But Tristan did not hear him.
He was looking around.
Then he began walking faster.
They moved through the streets.
Everywhere bore the marks of a massacre.
Burned walls.
Broken doors.
Children crying.
Women searching through the ruins.
Wounded men trying to help one another.
Then Tristan saw one of his soldiers.
The man was sitting beside a collapsed wall, a deep wound covering his shoulder.
Tristan approached him.
"What happened?"
The soldier raised his head.
When he saw Tristan, his eyes widened.
He tried to stand.
But Tristan caught him.
"Don't move."
The soldier spoke in a broken voice.
"My lord…"
"Who did this?"
The man did not answer immediately.
Then he said,
"They came from the sea… and from the land."
Jon approached.
"Who?"
"A large army."
The man struggled to breathe.
"Lannister banners…"
Tyrion's expression changed.
He stopped.
"What did you say?"
The soldier looked at him.
"Lannister…"
Then he continued,
"And they had men from the North… and other men."
Tristan said,
"Who?"
The soldier nodded.
"Frey and Bolton."
Tyrion said,
"The Freys and Boltons with the Lannisters?"
The man nodded again.
"They were all with them."
Silence fell.
Tyrion said nothing.
But his expression changed.
Tristan knew he was trying to control his anger.
He asked,
"Where is our army?"
"They fought until the end."
"How many are left?"
The man could not answer.
He lowered his head.
"Very few."
Tristan asked,
"How many?"
The man said,
"I don't know."
Then he raised his eyes.
"But they killed thousands."
Tristan remained silent.
Then he asked,
"Where is the enemy now?"
"They withdrew hours ago."
"Why?"
"We don't know."
Tristan looked toward the sky.
His four dragons were flying above the city.
Then he said,
"Tyrion?"
Jon turned toward him.
"He's here."
But Tyrion had already walked a short distance away.
He was standing in front of a burned building.
He stared at the ashes.
Then he said quietly,
"Lannister."
Tristan approached him.
"Tyrion."
He did not turn around.
"My family did this."
Tristan said,
"You are not responsible for your family's sins."
Tyrion laughed bitterly.
"At this moment, I don't want to hear that."
Then he turned toward him.
His eyes were filled with anger.
"They allied themselves with our enemies."
"I know."
"They attacked the city while you were away."
"I know."
"They knew you wouldn't be here."
Tristan fell silent.
Tyrion said,
"This was planned."
Tristan answered,
"Yes."
The two looked at the city.
Then Tristan said,
"And they will pay the price."
Suddenly, they heard a voice behind them.
"My lord."
Tristan turned.
One of his soldiers was running toward them.
"We found the survivors."
Tristan said,
"How many?"
The man hesitated.
"We don't know the exact number."
Tristan said,
"Take me to them."
The soldier led them to one of the parts of the city that had suffered less destruction.
There they saw a huge gathering of people.
Or what remained of the people.
They sat on the ground.
Some were wounded.
Some were crying.
Some simply stared into nothingness.
When they saw Tristan, whispers began spreading among them.
"He's back."
"The king has returned."
"Tristan."
One of the surviving commanders approached him.
His body was covered in wounds.
He bowed before him.
"My lord."
Tristan said,
"I want the number."
The man answered,
"We counted them."
He paused.
"There are six thousand survivors."
Tristan did not move.
"Six thousand?"
"Yes."
Jon asked,
"How many are Unsullied?"
"Two thousand."
Tristan looked at the soldiers.
Only two thousand.
Of the force that had protected Astapor, only two thousand remained.
Tristan said,
"And the rest?"
"Four thousand civilians."
Tristan looked at the people.
Only four thousand.
An entire city had disappeared.
He felt anger rising inside him.
Ned said,
"How many people lived here before the attack?"
Tyrion answered,
"Far more."
Ned looked at the city.
"Then they left nothing behind but death."
Tristan said,
"They weren't satisfied with taking it."
Then he looked at the soldiers.
"They wanted to destroy it."
Jon asked,
"Do we know where they went?"
One of the soldiers answered,
"Some left by sea."
Another said,
"The rest went north."
Tristan asked,
"Did they leave anyone behind?"
"Some soldiers."
Tristan's expression changed.
"Where?"
The man pointed west.
"There."
Tristan turned.
"Jon."
"Yes."
"Take Arya."
Arya gripped her dagger.
"I'm ready."
Tristan looked at Tyrion.
"And you come with me."
Tyrion nodded.
Then Tristan looked at Ned.
"Stay here with Sansa."
Ned said,
"What are you going to do?"
Tristan looked at the city.
"Finish what they started."
The group moved quickly.
It did not take long before they found a group of enemy soldiers.
They were trying to loot one of the warehouses.
When they saw Tristan, one of them raised his sword.
"Kill—"
He never finished the word.
Jon rushed toward him and knocked him down.
Arya moved quickly behind another soldier.
Tristan advanced.
The fight lasted only a few minutes.
None of the enemy soldiers survived.
But Tristan did not stop.
"Where are the others?"
One of the surviving Astapori soldiers grabbed one of the prisoners who had been wounded but was still alive.
The man said,
"There is another group near the harbor."
Tristan pointed at Jon.
"Take them."
Jon left with several Unsullied.
A short time later, they returned.
They had dozens of prisoners with them.
Tristan looked at them.
Among them were men carrying Lannister banners, men from House Frey, and men bearing Bolton insignia.
Tyrion stood before them.
He stared at them.
Then he said,
"You did this?"
No one answered.
One of the Lannister men said,
"Killing us will anger the lord."
Tyrion stepped closer.
"Who?"
"Lord Tywin Lannister, Hand of the King."
Tyrion laughed sarcastically.
"The king's dog?"
The man said nothing.
Tyrion raised his eyes toward Tristan.
"Let me speak to them."
But Tristan needed nothing more.
He knew what had happened.
"I don't want prisoners."
Everyone looked at him.
"I want them to know why they died."
One of the Unsullied stepped forward.
Tristan gave him an order.
A short time later, it was over.
None of the attackers who remained in Astapor were still alive.
But Tristan's anger had not ended.
It had only grown.
He climbed onto one of the rooftops.
He looked over the city.
Then he raised his hand.
The four dragons began descending.
Ignil landed first.
Then Lusirion.
Then Goldron.
And finally Bahamut.
Four enormous dragons stood before the city.
Tristan raised his hand again.
"Burn everything the enemy left behind."
The dragons roared, shaking Astapor.
Then flames erupted.
The enemy camps were set ablaze.
The banners burned.
The weapons they had left behind burned.
The wagons and supplies they had seized burned.
But Tristan ordered them not to approach the civilian areas.
He wanted revenge.
But he did not want to kill more innocents.
Ned watched the scene.
He said to Jon,
"I have never seen anything like this in my life."
Jon answered,
"Neither have I."
Sansa said,
"Can four dragons really do all this?"
Jon looked at her.
"Much more."
Tyrion stood some distance away.
He stared into the flames.
Then he said,
"I should have expected this."
Tristan approached him.
"What?"
Tyrion said,
"That they would take advantage of your absence."
He fell silent.
Then added,
"But I never expected them to dare attack Astapor on this scale."
Tristan said,
"They thought I wouldn't return in time."
Tyrion said,
"And they were right."
Tristan looked at him.
"What do you mean?"
Tyrion pointed toward the city.
"We arrived too late."
Tristan fell silent.
The words hurt because they were true.
He had saved Ned.
He had saved Sansa.
But in return, thousands of people had lost their lives.
One of the soldiers approached.
"My lord."
Tristan turned.
"What?"
"We found the gold treasury."
Tristan raised an eyebrow.
"Which treasury?"
"The treasury you ordered us to hide."
Tyrion looked at him.
Then at Tristan.
Tristan said,
"How much remains?"
"The fifteen million golden dragons are still there."
Tyrion breathed a sigh of relief.
"Good."
Tristan looked at him.
"I told you to hide it for a reason."
Tyrion replied,
"And I am very glad I did."
Tristan said,
"If it weren't for that, we wouldn't be able to rebuild the city."
Tyrion looked at Astapor.
"But can it be rebuilt?"
Tristan said,
"Yes."
Then he looked at the survivors.
"We will do it."
Jon said,
"Only six thousand people."
Tristan answered,
"Then we will build for those six thousand."
Ned said,
"And that will take time."
"We have time."
Tristan said,
"But before rebuilding, we need to know who betrayed us."
Tyrion said,
"Lannister, Frey, and Bolton."
"And I want to know who pushed them to do it."
Tyrion said,
"I can find out."
Tristan looked at him.
"Start now."
Tyrion nodded.
Silence fell.
The sun had begun to rise on the horizon.
But Astapor did not welcome the morning as it once had.
There were no merchants' voices.
No children's cries.
No sounds of workers.
Only smoke.
And ash.
And survivors.
Arya approached Tristan.
"What do we do now?"
He looked at her.
"We rebuild the city."
"And what about those who did this?"
Tristan did not answer immediately.
Then he said,
"They won't hide from me forever."
Arya asked,
"Will you kill them all?"
Tristan looked toward the east.
"They will learn what it means to attack Astapor."
Jon said,
"Where do we begin?"
Tristan answered,
"We need allies."
Tyrion said,
"I'm thinking of one person."
Tristan turned toward him.
"Daenerys Targaryen."
Tyrion nodded.
"Another Targaryen. And she has dragons."
Jon said,
"Where is she?"
Tyrion answered,
"According to the latest information, she is in Qarth with Jorah Mormont."
Tristan remained silent.
He had heard of Daenerys.
A young Targaryen queen.
A woman who had survived almost everything.
And now she possessed dragons.
Tristan said,
"I want to meet her."
Tyrion said,
"Then we send a messenger."
Tristan shook his head.
"No."
Everyone looked at him.
"I'll go myself."
Jon said,
"After everything that happened here?"
Tristan answered,
"Exactly because of what happened here."
He looked at Astapor.
"We can no longer rely on ourselves alone."
Tyrion said,
"So you want an alliance with her."
"Yes."
Tristan said,
"But I don't know if she'll agree."
Tyrion smiled.
"If she's smart, she will."
Ned said,
"And if she doesn't?"
Tristan looked at him.
"We'll find another way."
Far away from Astapor, Qarth was welcoming a different morning.
A massive city surrounded by walls.
Busy markets.
Merchants from every corner of the world.
And inside one of the palaces, Daenerys Targaryen stood before a wide window.
Her silver hair fell over her shoulders.
Behind her stood Jorah Mormont.
Jorah said,
"Khaleesi."
She turned toward him.
"What?"
"A report has arrived from one of the merchants."
"About what?"
Jorah hesitated.
Then said,
"Astapor."
Daenerys's expression changed.
"What happened?"
Jorah said,
"It was attacked."
She approached the window.
"By whom?"
"A large army."
"Does the city still stand?"
Jorah looked at her.
"Barely."
Daenerys fell silent.
Then she asked,
"And the Unsullied?"
"Most of them were killed."
Her expression changed.
She knew what that meant.
Astapor was the home of the Unsullied.
She said,
"Who attacked it?"
"Qartheen merchants don't know the details, but they say several banners were present."
"Lannister?"
"It appears so."
Daenerys fell silent.
Then she looked toward her dragons resting nearby.
"Astapor was an important city."
Jorah answered,
"And now it is a ruined city."
Daenerys did not yet know that another man with four dragons was standing among those same ashes.
Nor did she know that Tristan had already begun considering an alliance with her.
But another piece of news was already on its way to her.
News that would change everything.
Meanwhile, in Astapor, Tristan stood before thousands of survivors.
Two thousand Unsullied.
And four thousand civilians.
Only six thousand people remained from an entire city.
Tristan raised his voice.
"Listen to me."
Everyone raised their heads.
"We have lost much."
Silence.
"But Astapor has not fallen."
He looked at the ruins.
"They burned our homes."
Then he looked at the four dragons.
"But we will build them again."
No one spoke.
Tristan continued,
"They killed your families."
"But they did not kill your will."
Then he pointed toward the city.
"From these ashes, a new Astapor will rise."
Some of the Unsullied began raising their heads.
"And I swear before all of you…"
Tristan paused.
Then said with greater force,
"Everyone who took part in destroying this city will pay the price."
Silence fell.
Then one of the Unsullied struck his spear against the ground.
Another followed.
Then a third.
Within moments, thousands of strikes shook the earth.
Tristan looked at his army.
Then at Tyrion.
He said,
"Begin reorganizing them."
"I will."
"And send our best spies."
"To where?"
Tristan looked west.
"Westeros."
Then he looked east.
"And Qarth."
Tyrion understood.
"Daenerys."
Tristan nodded.
"I want to know everything about her."
Then he turned.
The fire was still burning among the remains of the enemy camps.
Above Astapor, the four dragons flew.
Tristan had lost a city.
He had lost thousands of lives.
But something else had been born that night.
Anger.
An anger that would not fade easily.
And a possible alliance between two powers, each possessing dragons.
As the ashes of Astapor drifted away with the wind, the threads of a greater war were being woven far from the city.
A war that would bring together Westeros and Essos.
The Targaryens.
The Lannisters.
The Freys.
The Boltons.
But this time…
Tristan would not be the man waiting for his enemies to attack.
He would be the one who went to them.