"We have sworn a sacred oath to dedicate ourselves to King Viserys's divine cause," the elders from west of the Rhoyne declared solemnly.
"I, too, swear a sacred oath to judge good and evil with a just heart, and to protect the land and people of Andalos with a brave heart," Viserys Targaryen proclaimed loudly.
Ser Roland Lake and Bishop Ebony stood nearby, their expressions grave.
The black-armored knight Viserys was young, but in the hearts of many in Andalos, he was already their sole conqueror and savior.
This was effectively Viserys declaring himself King of Andalos, though he had a long way to go to become the undisputed monarch.
Local powerhouses like the Greenvine family wouldn't accept a king appearing out of thin air.
But Viserys didn't care about these hedge families; giving them a chance was useless.
These entrenched factions would lick the boots of Tyrosh, Pentos, and the Dothraki just to survive, refusing to believe that the Andals could fight again.
If they didn't believe in the strength nurtured by the land of Andalos itself, they were unfit to be leaders of the Andal people.
"Look at the suffering the Andals have endured." Viserys pointed to the devastation nearby.
Atop the pikes were the heads of Tyroshi slavers and mercenaries, the dried blood already beginning to stink.
The bright purple and red hair of the Tyroshi, once oiled and vibrant, was now matted with dirt.
Viserys's voice rose again. "Look at those evil Tyroshi slavers, look at the weeping Andal people. These brutes ravage the land of your ancestors."
"The enemy brought blood and fire; the enemy brought humiliation and slavery."
"Now, what should we do?"
As the final question hung in the air, the atmosphere boiled over like scalding water.
"Revenge!"
"Revenge!"
"Andals shall never be slaves!"
The Andals shouted slogans, the seven-pointed stars on their faces and chests starkly visible.
Viserys's boots trod on the cold mud, the grey-brown speckles like the sins of the world splattered across the ground.
"I offer you two paths," Viserys continued. "The first is in the name of the Warrior: be brave, fight like men. But most of you may die, and you may face retaliation. It is a hard road, and aside from promising to lead the charge myself, I have little to give you. The second path is for the Andals to lay down their hatred, choose to kneel and smile at the enemy, just as you have for centuries. This might bring temporary peace. If the Tyroshi come for revenge, you need only hand me over. I leave the choice to my people."
Viserys didn't mention the suspicion that the Greenvine family might be traitors. If you don't kill the snake, it will bite you later.
If the Greenvine family was truly a viper, better to lure it out of its hole and then eliminate it in one stroke.
Besides, stirring up internal strife just as he gathered Andal strength would be too hasty.
"We choose only this!" The Andals let out beast-like howls, grabbing their weapons.
Having lived half a life in humiliation, better to fight and die.
Andals brandished spears, swords, pitchforks, axes, and even flails.
"Tyrosh, Pentos, Braavos—I've had enough of them all. And those damned Dothraki animals too. Why should they bully the Andals like this? Outsiders don't appreciate the Velvet Hills and the Upper Rhoyne. Their gods are false, lacking faith in the Seven and knighthood. Why can't we govern ourselves like before? If I must kneel, I will kneel only to this King, the first King to fight for the Andals." A bearded Andal warrior drew his sword, his voice thundering.
The warrior knelt and placed his sword beside Viserys. "Long live King Viserys! Long live the King of the Andals!"
The first Andal knelt and shouted.
Then the second, the third, the fourth.
Though they had never been ruled by the silver-haired king before, they stood one by one, drew their swords, and knelt, shouting ancient titles unheard for generations.
"Long live the King!"
"Long live the King of Andalos! Long live the King of the Andals!"
All the Andals—elders, warriors, women, and children—cheered together.
They chose to follow the tall, silver-haired warrior.
The roar of the crowd was like a tidal wave, intoxicating.
Not the tide of the sea, but the tide of human fury.
Viserys's violet eyes swept over the Andals before him. Since it has come to this, let me, Viserys, lead you to a different destiny.
All the Andal elders understood the reality: the history of the Andals would be written by a newcomer.
"Your Grace, the slavers committed too many crimes in our villages. They killed, kidnapped, sold women and children, and burned our homes."
"Many villages suffered such catastrophe."
"The atrocities of the slavers must be paid for in blood," Viserys promised.
"In that case, we ask to entrust the lands and people of the west bank of the Rhoyne to you. Please protect us, Your Grace," the elders implored.
"Granted," Viserys nodded.
"Elders, warriors, I also need to rely on your wisdom." Viserys calmly proposed his plan, inviting the Andal elders to join him. "The elders of the Andal villages are invited to join my Privy Council. The septons of the villages will be managed by the Septon of Viserys Fort. As for the young men of the villages, they will follow my troops for squire training."
"And the village soldiers," Viserys added. "I will conduct new training for them."
"Stubborn Stone Village awaits your command, Your Grace!"
"Greenfield Village awaits your command, Your Grace!"
...One by one, the gathered Andal villages from the west bank of the Rhoyne chose to accept Viserys's command to face the coming crisis.
Excitement shone on the faces of the Andal elders. This was the Andal-centric system they had dreamed of.
Viserys observed the respectful expressions of the elders. With this, his power base had crossed the Upper Rhoyne, spanning both east and west banks, entering a new phase.
"Give the order, Your Grace Viserys. We are willing to obey your commands and become your sword and shield," the Andal warriors clamored.
"I will conduct a census, then reorganize the forces." Viserys looked at the gathered Andal warriors. These men would swell his ranks significantly.
But beyond individual prowess, they needed improvement: learning military discipline, learning formation drills.
This was a process of re-civilization, raising the organizational level of the Andals from a rabble into a regular army.
Viserys had already decided on the structure: ten centuries to a thousand-man regiment, and above the regiment, the legion.
And the gathered Andals would be inducted into his First Legion.