"It's just around the corner," Meris said, pointing the way for Viserys before staying behind to keep Dany company.
Viserys approached the old captain's door, knocked, and then bowed respectfully as he entered. In his mind, the Tattered Prince was a man of sharp intuition. In the original story, when Daenerys fought against the Great Masters and Wise Masters in Slaver's Bay, the Tattered Prince had accurately sensed the fragility of the slave masters. Confident that the Mother of Dragons would ultimately prevail, he sent his Westerosi mercenaries to make contact with her—a decision that proved his foresight, as Daenerys did indeed secure her position in Slaver's Bay.
"Lord Commander," Viserys greeted.
"Lord Viserys, please, have a seat," the Tattered Prince replied.
The two men regarded each other across the desk. The Tattered Prince, a seasoned soldier, exuded the scent of leather and steel—an aura vastly different from that of an ordinary old man. Yet, as he looked at Viserys, he was momentarily perplexed. The young man before him appeared no older than sixteen, yet he carried himself with the poise and cunning of a veteran warrior. His light step and resolute gaze suggested a wealth of battlefield experience—far beyond his years.
'Could this be what some might call a natural-born "mercenary"?' The Tattered Prince didn't have a term for it, but he realized he had underestimated Viserys. Still, whether this impression was accurate remained to be seen.
"I need to ask you a few questions. Is that alright?" the captain asked.
"Of course," Viserys replied.
Viserys recalled his mercenary experiences from his past life, expecting questions to test his values and loyalty, such as, "If we go to war with your home country, will you follow orders without hesitation?" or "In the face of women and children, can you kill if necessary?" He believed he was prepared for anything the old captain might ask.
But the captain's question caught him off guard.
"What are your thoughts on revenge?"
Viserys paused, staring into the captain's brown eyes. Then it clicked—this was a deeply personal question. The Tattered Prince had fled Pentos to escape being sacrificed, a decision that had led to the destruction of his family. He had long harbored a desire to reclaim Pentos and avenge them. Viserys, too, sought revenge—to reclaim Westeros and avenge his father and brother-in-law. Their goals were strikingly similar.
It was, indeed, a matter of values.
"In my view, revenge is a necessary means of maintaining public morality," Viserys began.
The old captain leaned forward, intrigued, signaling for him to continue.
"If someone punches you and you don't retaliate, they'll move on to punch someone else. If someone kills your family and steals what's yours, and you don't take revenge, they'll kill more and take more. So, revenge and retaliation are not only legitimate but just. So-called tolerance is nothing more than a self-soothing lie for the weak."
As Viserys spoke, the Tattered Prince's eyes brightened, his interest clearly piqued. Though he had never abandoned his desire for revenge, Viserys's words seemed to reinvigorate him, as if he had been infused with new resolve.
The old captain nodded in satisfaction. After discussing Viserys's views on revenge a bit more, he said, "I'm aware of your terms, and the Windblown can accept them. But I have one question."
"Please, ask," Viserys replied.
"With your skills, the Golden Company should have offered you a better deal. Why didn't you choose them?"
Viserys paused, considering his response before speaking. "You may not have heard of the Banquet of the Crown. I earned the name 'The Beggar King' because of those men. My goal is to defeat them one day, not join them."
Though his answer seemed a bit youthful, it was without obvious flaws. Yet, the Tattered Prince, with his long years of experience, sensed there was more to the story. He knew this wasn't the full truth, but he decided not to press further. After all, for some, joining a mercenary company was merely a means to an end, and he himself understood that better than anyone.
The old captain nodded and continued, "I assume Meris mentioned the 7th Battalion on your way here?"
"Yes, she did," Viserys replied.
"Are you interested?"
"I can give it a try."
With that, Viserys and the Windblown formalized their agreement by signing a contract. The first clause stood out starkly: "The captain has the right to punish deserters and traitors in any way he sees fit."
Viserys recalled a story about the Windblown's cook, who had once deserted, claiming the food was too terrible to bear. As punishment, the Tattered Prince had his legs cut off and forced him to eat them. Remarkably, the man continued working as the cook, and the quality of the Windblown's food improved dramatically thereafter. It was clear that with this captain, there was no option to refuse, 'you take the carrot, or you'll get the stick.'
The contract also detailed other aspects, such as remuneration and the distribution of spoils. For instance, a sergeant major could personally invest in equipment, with the spoils proportionately increased according to their contribution. 'No wonder he hails from Pentos,' Viserys mused, noting the similarity to a profit-sharing arrangement. This system could foster a relatively loyal team. Considering the 7th Battalion's likely poor equipment, Viserys thought about asking Illyrio for assistance; the old man hadn't received a gold coin from him in a while.
Another reason Viserys accepted command of the 7th Battalion was that most of its members were Westerosi. Take "Spider Webber," the current sergeant major, for example—banished to the Free Cities by his own house, he longed to return to his homeland. The most crucial element for any team was its shared "values." By taking over the Seventh Battalion, Viserys saw an opportunity to recruit more loyalists for his eventual "reconquest of Westeros."
"We'll be leaving Tyrosh in three days. I'll have Meris arrange accommodations for you. Feel free to explore the city in the meantime," the old captain said.
"Thank you. I'll take my leave now," Viserys responded, standing to go.
Just as he was about to leave, the old captain added, "Oh, and we won't be responsible for your sister's safety."
"Of course. I'll take care of her myself."
"Good. That's all."
Meanwhile, despite Regis still recovering from his injuries, the Tattered Prince signed both him and Jorah to one-year contracts. He didn't sign Kyla, as he had no need for an assassin.
"It's still early—let's head to the Temple of the Three-Headed God," Viserys suggested. Given that the Three-Headed God was the dominant belief in Tyrosh, he was curious to see if there was anything unique about it. If the temple truly dated back to the Valyrian period, perhaps his panel might show some sort of reaction.