Game of Thrones: Symbiotic with Dragons
Game of Thrones: I'm Dothrak King!!
Game of Thrones: Crimson Shadow
Game of Thrones: The Dragon Who Remembers
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"Nesos and his people."
This time Palachiro gave a straight answer.
He still didn't know the exact numbers or every single name involved. All he could confirm was that the Elephant Party archon Nesos and one of the leading candidates for the next archon, Arios, were part of it.
"That's it?"
Daeron's brow furrowed.
Palachiro's mind raced, then he added quickly, "There's also another candidate—Berisio. He's from House Stangoni. The family supposedly carries a trace of dragonlord blood. He hasn't been seen in public for a long time. He might be one of the chosen ones."
The "chosen ones" were the hand-picked candidates being groomed as future dragonriders. The moment an egg hatched, they would begin bonding with the hatchling.
Daeron studied him. "And what about you?"
Palachiro blinked, confused. "What do you mean?"
Daeron's gaze sharpened. "Of the three candidates replacing Dofas, Arios and Berisio are both involved in this scheme. So what's your role in all of it?"
Palachiro's face went white.
Daeron had no patience left. "Talk. Full truth, or you die here."
Did this man really think he was stupid? Anyone positioned to become an archon had real ability and family power behind them. Palachiro wasn't some disposable pawn who knew nothing.
"You're hiding something important."
"N-no, I'm not—"
Palachiro backed up until his back hit the wagon. There was nowhere left to go. Caraxes's presence pressed down on him like a living furnace.
Bennero tried to intervene. "Your Grace, I swear on my life—he has told you everything."
"Your life isn't worth much. It already belongs to R'hllor."
Daeron's tone stayed flat.
Caraxes let out a low, warning growl and took a slow step forward, hot breath washing over the two men.
"Don't—please!"
Palachiro's heart hammered against his ribs. The words burst out in a rush. "Meereen! Meereen has Volantis partners. They're gathering the strength of all Slaver's Bay to raise their own dragonriders!"
Daeron patted Caraxes's neck. "Easy, boy."
Then he turned back to Palachiro. "Meereen has a dragon egg too?"
Without an egg, there was no point training dragonriders.
"Probably," Palachiro admitted.
Caraxes's jaws parted slightly. Firelight flickered in his throat.
"Yes! They do!" Palachiro yelped. "Meereen took part in the Smoking Sea raid. They're believed to have at least one egg, though we don't know exactly who holds it now."
"Another one?"
Daeron's mind turned over the numbers again.
Volantis had been willing to trade an egg to Qohor for something valuable, so they must have at least two. Rhaegar definitely had two. That left Qohor and Euron's side with one between them.
"Qohor agreed to the trade," Daeron said. "Maybe they're the side that doesn't have an egg."
It was just a guess. Either way, it didn't change much.
He looked at Palachiro again. "I'm getting those eggs back. Any bright ideas?"
"Impossible," Palachiro said with sudden certainty. "No matter which city holds them, the eggs will never leave Volantis or Slaver's Bay territory."
"After what happened to the Triarchy cities, every major power on this side of the Narrow Sea has dug escape tunnels under their cities. The moment a dragon appears, the nobles and anyone who matters will vanish underground."
"Even if you burned the cities to the ground, you'd only kill slaves and smallfolk. You'd never find the eggs."
It was hard-earned wisdom bought with blood and fire.
Daeron resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
Classic "can't beat them, so hide from them" strategy. They knew he wasn't the merciful type and had already prepared ways to survive dragonfire.
"These local nobles really are rude," he muttered.
Still, the conversation had been useful. Volantis held two eggs. Qohor and Meereen each had one. There might be variables, but the picture was clearer now.
Every major city on this continent was screening people with dragonlord blood, preparing to bond with any hatchlings that appeared. Their fake dragon kings weren't just empty titles anymore.
"If the eggs don't hatch, they stay hidden. If they do hatch, new dragonriders appear."
Daeron hated being forced into reactive positions.
For now, the Iron Throne could only wait for new riders to reveal themselves and the young dragons with them.
"Your Grace, I've told you everything," Palachiro said, arms spread wide in surrender.
Daeron pulled his thoughts back to the present. "Tell me about the factions inside Volantis."
"No problem. That I know."
Palachiro looked relieved to be on familiar ground.
Even after its glory days, Volantis remained one of the strongest of the Nine Free Cities.
The clearest divide was between the Tiger Party and the Elephant Party.
The Tiger Party were the military nobles—the war hawks.
The Elephant Party were the traditional nobles who enjoyed the best positions and preferred a comfortable life.
Malacho, the Tiger archon, had lost influence after the failed campaign against the Triarchy cities and was being pushed aside.
Inside the Elephant Party—the majority of the Black Wall nobles—real power currently sat with Nesos.
Nesos wanted to raise new dragonriders. Use magic to fight magic.
But not every Black Wall family agreed on the risks.
Some supported the idea. Some opposed it.
The opposition split into two groups: those who had always hated the idea of new dragonlord bloodlines, and those whose blood was too thin to benefit from any new dragonriders that might appear.
Over time, the discontent had grown.
"Your Grace, I've been treated unfairly," Palachiro said, placing a hand over his heart and bowing deeply. "I don't trust Nesos's unilateral decisions. Please help me."
Daeron considered it for a moment, then nodded.
His only real contact in Volantis so far was Malacho, and the man was a greedy war hawk—not someone he could fully trust.
Having an ally inside the Elephant Party would be useful.
"I like making friends," Daeron said with an easy smile. "So tell me, friend—what can you bring me?"
"I have a batch of new scorpion crossbows and Valyrian steel bolts. I can give them to you."
Daeron shook his head. "I don't need those."
Palachiro's merchant instincts kicked in. He took a deep breath. "I purchased three hundred Unsullied. They are the most loyal slave soldiers in the world. I will gift them to you."
"Unsullied?"
Daeron was mildly interested.
Palachiro rushed to explain before the interest faded. "They're the elite of the elite from Astapor. They've been trained with special crops to master life force, then reinforced with yellow crystals for defense. They make the perfect meat shields."
"Enhanced troops?"
Daeron's interest sharpened.
"Exactly." Palachiro felt both relief and the sharp pain of losing a fortune. "After the fighting on the Stepstones, every city started training soldiers who had absorbed special gems. Astapor did it best."
"How much does one of these cost in honors?"
Daeron already knew it would be expensive.
"An ordinary Unsullied costs 1,600 honors. One who has mastered life force runs between 4,800 and 9,600. One who has absorbed special gems starts at 10,000 honors."
Palachiro's back teeth ground together.
Honors were Volantis's gold coins—small round pieces worth roughly three times a Westerosi gold dragon.
That put an ordinary Unsullied at about 800 gold dragons, a life-force master at 1,600–4,800, and a gem-enhanced one at roughly 3,333 gold dragons.
Three hundred gem-enhanced Unsullied came out to well over a million gold dragons.
Daeron's expression turned serious. "Palachiro, from this day forward, you are my closest friend."
"It is my honor, Your Grace."
Palachiro looked like he wanted to cry.
Daeron grinned. "When can I expect those three hundred Unsullied?"
He didn't like slavery in principle, but the Unsullied were different. They had already been turned into living weapons. Freeing them wouldn't give them normal lives. Better to keep them close as the most reliable guards possible.
The Kingsguard only had seven men. They couldn't cover the entire royal family.
Three hundred Unsullied could be split among his relatives.
"As soon as I write a letter, my steward will load them onto a ship and send them to King's Landing."
Palachiro's soul had already left his body.
Daeron clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't look so heartbroken. You'll be rewarded for this."
Palachiro's pain eased slightly. At least he had the Dragon King's trust now.
Daeron gave him his next orders. "I want you back in Volantis. Watch Nesos and the others. Report everything they do. Understood?"
The eggs and any hatchlings that appeared.
Palachiro understood. "You can count on me."
Daeron paused, then added, "What's Volantis planning regarding the Triarchy pirates?"
"Nothing complicated. We send them coin and grain to keep the Iron Throne's armies tied down."
Daeron nodded. "When you get the chance, give the Tiger Party some quiet support."
Palachiro's eyes widened in alarm. He opened his mouth to protest.
Daeron didn't say another word. He just looked at him.
Caraxes let out a sharp, warning screech. His huge shadow fell over both men.
Palachiro swallowed hard. "O-of course. Whatever you need."
"Excellent."
Daeron smiled.
A smart man knew when to pick the winning side.
Bennero had watched the entire exchange in silence. Looking at the young king and the red dragon standing behind him, he felt certain R'hllor's vision had been correct.
"This man," the red priest thought, "is Azor Ahai reborn."
---
King's Landing.
With the young king away, the Hand of the King ran the realm.
"You wanted to see me?"
Jaime stood in full white armor and cloak before his father in the Tower of the Hand.
Tywin looked up from his desk, ignoring the stiff formality in Jaime's tone. He slid a sealed arrest warrant across the table.
"House Velaryon is suspected of colluding with foreign powers and leaking secrets. Lord Lucerys has been secretly obtaining and using the formula for the secret wind-rider sails. The evidence is solid."
He met Jaime's eyes.
"I'm ordering you to take a detachment of Lannister men and arrest Monford Velaryon, son of Lord Lucerys Velaryon."