Night had fallen black as ink, the bleeding comet still hanging high overhead.
On the hill where Viserys camped, everything was quiet. Soldiers stood like a silent forest guarding the high ground. Below in Crown Town, only a few scattered lights remained. The freedmen had finished their drinking and brawling for the night and were turning in.
"Please." Agos and Rosor escorted the two guests straight up the hill.
The dragon rested at the entrance to Viserys's tent, coiled like a golden serpent that had not yet stirred, or like a watchful sentinel. Besides the dragon, black-cloaked elite soldiers were hidden across the hillside. Their sharp presence made the guests pause, but nothing compared to the sight of the dragon itself.
The scent of strangers woke Sunblaze's vigilance. The dragon's molten eyes locked onto the two visitors. They trembled, as if they could already see the angry flames building in his throat.
Viserys the King and his golden dragon were without question the most talked-about legends on the eastern continent. The two guests had heard the stories of the golden dragon said to be a survivor from the ruins of Valyria, a young beast. But this one had grown far faster than anyone expected.
"Let the guests in, Sunblaze," Viserys said, his voice like steel.
The golden dragon lowered its head, and the two men entered the tent.
Inside, a warm brazier burned. Viserys didn't need it, but his visitors who had traveled far did. He wore the black velvet clothes he favored, the three-headed red dragon embroidered on the edges, cuffs, and collar.
The two guests looked far more ragged. To avoid notice, they had dressed in plain clothes.
Casparro, the cunning second-in-command of the Second Sons, and Brown Ben Plumm.
After Viserys took Tyrosh, the Second Sons had reached out through their recruitment point in the city, hinting they wanted to bend the knee.
"I didn't expect that after so long, Your Grace's name as the True Dragon already echoes across both continents," Casparro said respectfully. "Back then you didn't consider the Second Sons. Now it seems the company couldn't hold a man like you."
"I remember when you tried to recruit me," Viserys replied with a smile. It felt good to see familiar faces.
"My name is Casparro, if Your Grace still remembers—the Cunning One. This is our new captain, Brown Ben Plumm." Casparro made the introduction. The Second Sons had crossed paths with Viserys in Braavos.
Brown Ben had a broad face, skin like cracked leather, and deep crow's feet around his eyes. His skin was the color of old teak, his nose broken, his thick hair gray. He had large, almond-shaped black eyes inherited from his Dothraki mother—a true half-breed.
Plumm claimed blood from Braavos, the Summer Islands, Ibben, Qohor, the Dothraki, and Dorne. He even said he carried a drop of Targaryen blood.
Brown Ben looked like the friendly grandfather next door, but he was cunning as they came.
This was the butterfly effect Viserys had caused. After he killed the Titan's Bastard Mero in Braavos, the captain's seat had fallen to Brown Ben Plumm earlier than it otherwise would have.
Originally the Titan's Bastard had been younger and stronger than Brown Ben, but he died in Braavos, and the Second Sons had little connection to Mero anymore.
"Why didn't I know about him before?" Viserys asked.
Casparro explained at once. "Before he joined the Second Sons, Brown Ben Plumm served as bodyguard to the uncle of Oznak zo Pahl, a Great Master of Meereen. Later he fled Meereen through the sewers after his friend was killed and had his liver cut out while still alive. Ben took distant, dangerous contracts after that. He's been through hundreds of fights, big and small. The brothers trust him."
The Great Masters of Slaver's Bay were barely human. Oznak zo Pahl had murdered a man named Skahaz, beheaded him, and dug out his liver on the charge of raping a lady with his eyes. Brown Ben had escaped to avoid the same fate.
"Then I congratulate you on getting a good captain," Viserys said, gesturing for them to sit.
"Supreme King Viserys, I also carry a drop of true dragon blood, Your Grace," Brown Ben Plumm said with a smile. "Though my drop is worthless before the True Dragon."
Plumm looked kind-faced, and when he smiled he seemed even more benevolent. He was like the reliable uncle everyone loved—gentle, full of wonderful stories and elder wisdom. Unfortunately, it was all a mask.
The smile never reached his eyes. Those eyes carefully hid his greedy nature. This man was hungry and alert.
"Your drop of dragon blood comes from the Unworthy King, doesn't it?" Viserys remarked. "Everyone in the Sunset Kingdoms knows his story."
The Unworthy King's dragon blood was scattered everywhere. He had the most mistresses and the most children. Most of the dragon blood loose in the world today came from him—the Black Pearl, the Blackfyres, the Plumm family, even the dragon blood in Dorne from his youngest daughter.
"It should be him, Your Grace," Brown Ben said. "That's what my grandmother told me."
"You two coming here together—a captain and his second—is quite a risk," Viserys said. These men were bold.
"Your Grace, the men in our company love us, and most of them are asleep. As for the night watch, it's common enough for the commander to go for a stroll. Thanks to Your Grace, after the big companies were wiped out, the Second Sons stand out. The smaller sellswords don't dare touch us."
"This is karma of a sort," Viserys nodded. "Then let's get to the point."
"We're willing to submit to you, Your Grace," Brown Ben Plumm said. "Lys and Myr are brewing war, but I don't see much chance of them winning."
"Why do you say that?" Viserys asked.
"They're too arrogant—like thirty horses trying to pull one cart, every one of them wanting to lead. The exiled Tyroshi are throwing gold around and downplaying the True Dragon's strength. The hot-blooded nobles of the Two Cities think war is a game," Casparro explained.
"Besides, most of the magisters and commanders in Lys and Myr want the glory of being Tyrosh's savior, so their army's command is a mess. Andalos has a clear master. Your dragon is bigger and more dangerous than the Lyseni and Myrmen realize. They don't lack coin, but they lack a real land army right now."
"It seems besides being brave, you're also quite cunning," Viserys said, studying Brown Ben Plumm.
"I've always been careful choosing my enemies and opponents. That's how I've lived this long. There are old sellswords and bold sellswords, but none who are both old and bold. By my reckoning, the ragtag land forces of Lys and Myr are no match for the dragon, the Andalos army, and the Roaring Warriors—if that bunch of fools charge straight at us."
"Good. You missed the battles of Viserysfort and Tyrosh, but at least you won't miss the war with Myr and Lys."
"Now how many sellswords have joined them?" Viserys asked.
"The Second Sons, the Company of the Cat, the Iron Shields, the Long Lances, the Gallants. We quoted prices several times higher than usual, but the Lyseni and Myrmen had no choice but to accept. For many sellswords, the thinking is simple—make the money, enjoy it later. If things go bad, run."
Brown Ben was talking about the smaller companies. These bands of a few hundred men were now in high demand.
"But what about reinforcements from Lys and Myr?" Viserys asked. "Haven't they sought help from Volantis?"
"As far as I know, they threw gold at it but got no reply. Volantis's next election year hasn't come yet, and the Elephant Party still holds two seats, so asking the Volantenes isn't very effective," Brown Ben said. "And with the Tyroshi bribes and downplaying, many Lyseni and Myrmen magisters think they can win on their own. As long as your forces leave, the Tyroshi will rise up in revolt."
"What a beautiful plan," Viserys said calmly. "But these forces aren't enough."
"Not nearly enough. According to secret information, for this war the magisters are prepared to spend heavily on the Unsullied—the bane of the horselords. They believe war is inevitable and that rescuing Tyrosh and the Disputed Lands will bring even greater rewards."
"Excellent," Viserys thought. This information was crucial.
Since the Two Cities alliance still wanted to pull men from across the sea, this was a perfect opportunity.
Viserys had already planned to lead his army north. He was leaving openly to draw out a bigger move from the alliance.
He would make this a real fight. This time he intended to end it.
Viserys stood and took two beautiful cedar-wood boxes from his desk. He handed them casually to Brown Ben Plumm and Casparro.
"Take them."
When the two sellswords opened the boxes, they found them filled with glittering gems and gold, heavy in their hands.
They glanced at each other, certain they couldn't simply pick them up and walk away. But Viserys's gesture had been so casual that they understood this True Dragon's power was extraordinary—already at a level few men reached.
"This… this is too valuable, Your Grace," Brown Ben Plumm tried to refuse. The treasures dazzled, but one didn't accept rewards without merit.
"This isn't right…" Casparro didn't dare accept such a gift either.
"I require your loyalty to me, sellswords. You, and the entire company. If you can bring in more men, even better. These gems and gold—half is your reward, half is for you to give as gifts to others. But keep it secret. Many people will leak information," Viserys said.
Money was only useful if spent well. Having the Second Sons planted inside the enemy camp would help him far more than having them fight at his side.
"Loyal to me, fight for my cause, and you will receive gold and honor. If not, the gift will be blood and fire. Friend or enemy—I leave the choice to you."
"Understood, Your Grace," Brown Ben Plumm nodded happily. "Then when can we bring the company over…"
Brown Ben had never met a client like this. It felt like meeting a kindred spirit.
"No. You don't need to bring the Second Sons over. Staying inside the Lyseni and Myrmen camp is better. Your six or seven hundred men will help me more from inside the enemy lines than here with me."
"I understand," Brown Ben's eyes lit up. That was true.
"I don't need you to leak information on command. I just need you to play your part at the critical moment." Viserys's pale violet eyes flashed with cunning.
"Some key information I do need—such as how the ships carrying the Unsullied will arrive, and which port they left the men at."
Brown Ben nodded.
If the war didn't take any unexpected turns, the magisters of the Lys and Myr alliance seemed about to be cooked in one pot by Viserys.
Viserys was braver, more fearless, more powerful, and even more cunning than these magisters.
It seemed that stepping on the True Dragon's tail and offending him had only one outcome: a dead end.
Viserys rubbed his hands together and poured two cups of fine wine for the sellswords.
"Gentlemen, I wish you smooth sailing inside the Two Cities alliance," Viserys's voice was like steel, and like the language of a demon.
Brown Ben Plumm and Casparro raised their cups. "For the True Dragon's cause."
The wine cups clinked together like flowing red blood.