The morning light on the Velvet Hills carried a fresh scent of green fields, with only a faint hint of moisture.
Without these conflicts, this place would be a paradise.
Strong warriors, devout septons, beautiful maidens—not a life lived in fear and timidity.
Most of Andalos was previously controlled by Pentos, but after Pentos was repeatedly beaten by Braavos, Andalos became a chaotic, disputed land again.
Pentos now had no more than twenty warships and was forbidden from hiring mercenaries or hedge knights, except for the city watch.
Pentos lacked the power to govern such a large territory, barely managing the Flatlands, especially since these areas were frequently visited by Dothraki horselords.
"Weak Pentos, an undefended city. Powerless to organize an Andal resurgence. I will use this power," Viserys Targaryen thought.
Viserys removed his dragon-winged helm, wearing only his dusty-black scale armor.
Warriors sat on the ground, eating steaming barley porridge. The Andals had also roasted sheep to reward the soldiers.
Some of the supplies brought by the Tyroshi slavers weren't wasted either—like those garlic-flavored Tyroshi sausages.
The tart wine of Andalos and the much stronger Tyroshi pear brandy were consumed together by the warriors.
Viserys savored the pear brandy. The known world wasn't without strong spirits like brandy, but Viserys firmly believed the new rum and whiskey he would create would become even more popular.
"Warrior Viserys!"
"Revenge! Andals, revenge!"
"Viserys the Avenger!"
Enthusiastic Andals crowded around the soldiers, calling out to them.
The Andals naturally praised Viserys, who seemed like a god and the Warrior incarnate—the silver-haired, violet-eyed warrior, a second Conqueror.
More and more Andal villagers from the west side of the Upper Rhoyne gathered. News spread like a plague; there were now more people from the west bank villages than from the east bank villages Viserys had already subdued.
News of revenge, news of slaughter.
Andal soldiers crossing from the east bank had wiped out the Tyroshi slavers, avenging their kin.
This was sensational news, unheard of for centuries—that Andal soldiers could be so brave.
For the common folk, this was great news of vengeance served, as no village had escaped harassment by Tyroshi slavers.
But for the ruling village elders, the situation was more complex.
This young king struck fast and hard, leaving no survivors and no middle ground.
The west bank Andal elders gathered with the east bank elders who had already submitted to Viserys Fort to discuss.
After this, their enmity with the Tyroshi slavers was absolute and unending.
Better to strike first than last; now it was vengeance and total hostility.
Before, they could be ostriches with their heads in the sand. Now, to deal with the crisis, they had to unite.
"He is a Westerosi," a west bank elder stated with certainty.
"Whoever can avenge the Andals is the King of the Andals. Besides, the Kings of Westeros also style themselves Kings of the Andals."
"But if we pledge loyalty to King Viserys, he is the last scion of the Targaryen dynasty. We will face attacks from the Iron Throne in the future."
"Hmph, don't worry about the Iron Throne. Worry about the Tyroshi slavers and mercenaries right in front of us. Without King Viserys's protection, no village can survive alone. Tyroshi revenge is always cruel."
"We are villages abandoned by the great powers. The Sealord of Braavos, the King on the Iron Throne, the Magisters of Pentos—they are all great, but did they protect us? No, they didn't. Only King Viserys saved us. We Andals are a people who repay debts."
The elders of the east and west bank villages debated fiercely, vacillating between loyalty and polite neutrality.
Viserys held his hot porridge, listening to the praise and discussion.
Warmth spread from his fingertips. Viserys felt he was a political animal combining ambition and justice.
Viserys acted for his ambition. Anti-slavery was his political slogan, which indeed benefited others greatly.
Because of this, he needed to unite the Andal and Rhoynar remnants.
"Your Grace, I found this in the Tyroshi slaver's tent," Bishop Ebony approached quietly, handing Viserys a charred parchment map.
It was clear someone had tried to destroy the map, but it was pulled from the brazier just in time.
Viserys examined the traces on the map carefully. It depicted the terrain and waterways of the west bank of the Upper Rhoyne, dotted with a few Andal villages—likely the ones that had been attacked.
"This is a map," Viserys was surprised. The map wasn't of Tyroshi make; the strokes were crude.
Tyroshi craftsmanship was high; their drawings wouldn't be this rough.
The detailed village locations suggested only a local Andal would understand these twists and turns.
"You mean there's a traitor?" Viserys looked at the map.
It seemed there were bad apples among the Andals too, betraying their own kind.
Bishop Ebony nodded gravely. "Your Grace, I think so too. This map details the locations of west bank villages; only a local Andal would know this."
"Do you have a suspect?" Viserys asked in a low voice.
It was normal to have fence-sitters in Andal villages. After centuries of being ravaged by various powers, capitulationists had a market.
Ebony pointed to a missing corner on both sides of the map. "If I'm not mistaken, there should have been a grape leaf symbol here, but someone cut it off."
"Grape leaf? What does it signify?" Viserys asked sharply.
"It represents a major power among our native Andals, the Greenvine family. They made their fortune selling Andalos sour wine. Greenvine sour wine sells the best and commands the highest price."
Viserys listened. This sounded like a budget version of the Redwyne family in Andalos, making money through wine and trade.
"Isn't Andalos wine very sour and astringent?" Ser Roland asked.
"The quality isn't great, but we're used to the taste, and cheap wine sells," Bishop Ebony explained. "So the Greenvine family is a prosperous branch among the Andals. Their villages and vineyards are in the hills downstream along the Upper Rhoyne, not too far from Ghoyan Drohe."
That was true. Viserys knew Andalos wine was sold in the markets of Vaes Dothrak. Cheap wine had a market even if the quality was low.
"If it really is the Greenvine family, their sin is great. The Greenvine family has connections with merchants in Pentos and Tyrosh," Bishop Ebony said.
This likely meant they were Andal traitors. For the Greenvine family to thrive in such a dangerous place, their methods and schemes couldn't be simple.
Viserys pocketed the map and instructed Bishop Ebony, "Investigate carefully. See if there are any clues linking this to the Greenvine family. Also, keep this matter secret for now."
"As you command, Your Grace!" Bishop Ebony nodded.
Viserys thought for a moment. Bishop Ebony's lead was crucial.
If true, the Greenvine family would be an Andal rival he'd have to deal with in the future.
Consider a local power like the Greenvine family, colluding with external forces; they naturally wouldn't welcome a king over their heads.
Besides, Viserys needed a still for distilling spirits. Raiding the Greenvine family for gold might be an option.
Not far away lay the bloody battlefield of the previous night.
The Tyroshi tents were flattened. Good armor, tents, weapons, warhorses, and other supplies weren't wasted; Viserys took them all.
The heads of the dead Tyroshi were cut off and mounted on pikes.
This was a silent warning: Andals would fight for freedom.
"The Warrior demands our courage."
"The Father demands our justice."
"The Mother demands we protect the weak and innocent."
"The Maiden demands we protect all women."
"The Smith demands our labor."
"The Crone demands our wisdom."
"And the Stranger demands our reverence."
Ebony led the Andal septons in chanting hymns to the Seven.
"Under the witness of the Seven, do you swear allegiance to King Viserys?"
"We do." All the Andal elders maintained reverent expressions, looking at the high-spirited Viserys.
Viserys looked at his new subjects, wondering if any were in contact with the Greenvine family, but power always fluxed.
The elder of the leading west bank village knelt on one knee, followed by all the other elders.
"Noble King Viserys, for thousands of years, our people lived in peace but suffered repeated plunder. Now the Warrior has descended, the True King is born. Representing all our people, we swear allegiance to you."
"I hear your oaths and will protect my subjects."
"We dedicate our loyalty to the Lord of Viserys Fort, Viserys of House Targaryen," all the Andal elders declared loudly. "We dedicate our hearts, loyalty, and courage to you. We dedicate our barley, wheat, and grapes to you. We dedicate our swords, spears, and bows to you. May you pity our suffering, protect our women and children, and treat every subject justly. We will follow you forever."
"In the name of the hills and the great river."
"In the name of steel and knights."
"In the name of the Holy Seven." They concluded in unison.
"I will repay you with fairness, mercy, and courage. May summer last forever," Viserys said. "Rise, in the name of Viserys Targaryen."
Viserys looked at these oath-takers and the severed heads of the Tyroshi.
Some oaths are written in ink, while others are sealed in blood.