"Fat Grape" Amman Greenvine was dragged from his folding chair by Viserys.
Viserys drove his sharp, black dragonbone-hilted dagger through Amman's hand. The Valyrian steel, incredibly sharp, pierced skin, metacarpals, and flesh without pause.
"Nobody move. Lord Amman, today it's your hand; next time it will be your head," Viserys said, pinning the fat man's hand to the carpet, the force driving into the earth below.
"So ruthless." Amman Greenvine's face contorted in pain, beads of sweat rolling down his fleshy cheeks.
Amman's eldest son, Jack Greenvine, cowered beside his father, terrified by the shocking scene.
"Coward! Coward!" Amman cursed his son. "Run, you fool!"
"Father..." Jack murmured, panicking in the moment.
"Lord Amman, tell your men to stand down." Viserys watched Amman, who lacked the courage to pull out the dagger and could only wail.
A life of pampered luxury had made the Fat Grape fear blood.
"You have no chance of winning, Viserys. My son Yohn is bringing cavalry and mercenaries," Amman hissed.
"That's not up to you right now." Viserys drew his longsword and pressed the blade to Amman's throat, opening a small cut. Warm blood trickled down, signifying life slowly slipping away.
"Stop! Everyone stop!" Amman ordered immediately.
It was supposed to be a perfect plan. During the meeting, the Greenvine family's Unsullied and pit fighter were to take Viserys hostage by surprise and order his guards to lay down their arms.
Then, the mercenaries hired by the Greenvine family would encircle them, and Viserys Fort would surrender without a fight. The cartloads of supplies were actually ransom for the Andal elders.
Viserys's power would vanish like smoke, and the Greenvine family would be the true Kings of the Andals.
The plan was perfect, but they hadn't expected the young and vigorous Viserys to be so cunning. Not only did he wear concealed armor, but he was also ruthless and agile, seizing control of the situation first.
"Stupid. I am truly stupid." Amman was green with regret. Greed. Like all merchants, his life was ruined by greed.
The elderly Unsullied eunuchs stood still like a silent forest. The pit fighter seemed to have a delayed reaction, still fighting Argos.
Pit fighters were proud and bloodthirsty, unlike the Unsullied.
"Argos, don't drag it out," Viserys ordered.
"As you command, Your Grace," Argos responded.
The pit fighter's speed was astonishing, his sword creating a storm of steel light in the air. However, this storm was merely an itch to Argos.
Meereenese fighters had one flaw: they disliked wearing armor. In the fighting pits of Meereen, the nobles preferred to see blood flow freely.
"Coward! A coward in iron!" the pit fighter cursed Argos. Seeing the situation had changed drastically and Viserys controlled the fat Amman, the fighter grew nervous.
Argos only blocked fatal attacks to his head; the rest of the sword strikes he deflected or let hit his chainmail after absorbing the force.
The pit fighter struggled but couldn't make progress. Correspondingly, his strength and speed slowed. He even glanced back at the wailing Amman.
Argos roared, seizing the opening. His greatsword whistled as it chopped straight at the pit fighter's abdomen.
The pit fighter was agile and bloodthirsty, but his strength was on a different level. His intestines spilled out like eels and snakes, falling directly onto the ground.
"Die." With a second strike, Argos swung his sword wildly, decapitating the fighter. Blood soaked his armor.
"The Greenvine family violates guest right and plots against King Viserys! Traitors to the Seven!" Argos raised his bloody greatsword furiously. The Greenvine guards were almost entirely cowed by his killing aura.
Argos strode forward. The wooden Unsullied only watched as he approached Amman's son and heir. This was a drawback of the Unsullied: they were like machines, and machines without instructions encountered bugs.
Viserys's cavalry surrounded them. Soldiers on both sides felt the tension of imminent combat. Viserys's soldiers were more fueled by anger; violating guest right was an act spat upon by the Seven, yet the Greenvine family had stooped so low.
However, the Greenvine soldiers were hesitant. First, they had indeed violated guest right. Second, their lord was captured.
Viserys and Argos controlled the crucial Greenvine father and son.
"Lord Amman, since you are so hospitable, why not join us as a guest at Viserys Fort?" Viserys said.
"Kidnapping! This is kidnapping!" Amman's voice was shrill and distorted by pain and rage.
"Bring a wagon. Follow us to Viserys Fort."
"No!" Amman shook his head immediately. "Let me go. You cannot succeed. My second son is bringing elite Tyroshi mercenaries. They are unstoppable."
"Is that so?" Viserys looked at Amman. "Then I insist on showing you how I deal with them."
"Argos!" Viserys said.
Argos gripped his bloody greatsword, the blade hovering over Jack Greenvine's head. One strike, and a head would roll.
"Go. I'll go..." Amman answered in despair. He looked at his son's face. Though incompetent, Jack was still his eldest.
Viserys waved his hand and pulled out the Valyrian steel dagger. Amman let out another shrill scream. Regardless, his hand was ruined.
Several of Viserys's soldiers stuffed Amman into a wagon to express their "warm hospitality" to the Greenvine family.
"Come, Jack Greenvine. You keep us company too."
"Me?" Jack looked bewildered at the turn of events. Not only his father, but he too was now a prisoner.
"You go too, young master." Argos grabbed Jack and threw him onto his horse like a chicken.
The Greenvine family looked like defeated roosters—not just the Unsullied guards, but the knights and servants too. They hadn't expected Amman's clumsy farce to backfire so spectacularly, turning him into the breakthrough point instead of controlling the situation.
"Andals! Those who believe in the gods will spit on the Greenvine family's actions! Traitors! Blasphemers! The Greenvine family will face divine retribution! True Andals should take up arms and fight for the destiny of the Andals, not serve the treacherous Greenvines who violate guest right and curry favor with Tyroshi slavers!" Viserys's voice rang out like steel. Shame coloured the faces of many Greenvine knights.
"Those willing to follow me, come! Those unwilling, tell Amman's bastards: if they want their father, come to Viserys Fort to get him!"
This performance was not just killing the body, but striking the heart.
"Move out!" Viserys rode away. Indeed, some bewildered knights, faces flushed, automatically followed behind.
Amman, enduring the intense pain, realized Viserys's troops stopped after marching a short distance, and he felt a surge of terror.
"This isn't the direction to the castle. Why are you stopping, you villain?" Amman cursed.
Viserys rode to Amman's window, wearing a flashy, dangerous smile.
"I told you I would destroy the Tyroshi. Didn't you distrust Andal martial power? Today, I'll open your eyes," Viserys replied.
Amman's trap had failed, but Viserys's trap was different.
Amidst the hills and woods, silent longbowmen waited.
Amman's vision went black. Viserys had prepared a proper ambush long ago, waiting for the death and decline of the Greenvine family.
In terms of scheming and methods, he finally understood Viserys's terrifying nature. Viserys never intended to let the ambushing army live.