In the shade by the fountain of Tyrosh's palace, the Windblown were hosting the grandest banquet since their founding. The air was filled with the aroma of food, the sound of musicians playing lively tunes, and the clinking of glasses. There was an abundance of drinks—Tyrosh's local brandy, Arbor's finest wine, and even Dothraki mare's beverages—enough to satisfy every taste.
Cool-haired maids with vibrant colors in their locks flitted through the crowd, their presence adding to the festivities. Some of the guests couldn't keep their hands to themselves, taking full advantage of the jovial atmosphere.
In both the Free Cities and Westeros, banquets typically took place in the evening. However, given Hoyt's schedule, this one was held during the day. Hoyt had spent nearly a month consolidating his control over the newly conquered Pentos before coming to Tyrosh. He often said that having spent most of his life in the Windblown, he needed to see things through to the end.
"The Tattered Prince really hit the jackpot this time, becoming a true prince!" Darsent remarked, his bright red hair glinting as he held a serving girl close.
"Who wouldn't be? I couldn't believe it when I first heard the news," Dick added, chewing on a tender lamb chop.
Glancing around to ensure Meris wasn't nearby, he lowered his guard and continued, "I heard Prince Hoyt is going to marry two wives and deflower two virgins every year. I wonder if the old captain can still handle it."
Laughter erupted from the group, especially among those with vivid imaginations who couldn't help but picture the aged Hoyt in such a scenario.
Despite the teasing, there was genuine envy among the Windblown for Hoyt and Viserys. The once 'Beggar King' and 'Tattered Prince' had each carved out their own territories, becoming rulers in their own right—a feat that left everyone in awe. Yet, when they thought of their own limitations, the envy faded into resignation.
Even Darsent, who had once been openly critical of Viserys, had nothing left to say. "If you think you're capable, why don't you go behead pirates yourself? Or mobilize mine slaves to rebel? Or take a city like Tyrosh by force?" These weren't tasks for ordinary men, and Viserys had accomplished them all. Because of him, the equipment in their camp had seen a significant upgrade.
Everyone understood the real purpose of the banquet: it was likely Viserys's inauguration celebration as their new leader.
"The captain is here!" Meris's voice rang out, drawing everyone's attention.
Hoyt entered, no longer clad in his tattered clothes but draped in a silk robe, half blue and half yellow—a mark of Lys. The new attire gave him a rejuvenated appearance. Denzo had stayed behind in Pentos, so Hoyt was accompanied by Caggo and Viserys. Kambron, too, had been invited with Viserys's blessing. As a former Archon, Kambron harbored no bitterness at the loss of his position, understanding that to stabilize Tyrosh, Viserys needed to retain some of the old nobility's rights to ensure the city's swift return to productivity. Smiling, Kambron joined the celebration, recognizing the significance of the handover from the old leader to the new.
Feles, of course, was also present. As Lys's representative and Viserys's chief adviser, he was eager to hear the next steps from his "Lord."
It was clear that the Windblown were on the brink of rapid expansion. Viserys and Hoyt had their sights set on controlling new territories, and they would need the Windblown as their foundation. It wouldn't be long before the group swelled to 10,000 members, making it the most powerful mercenary force in the Free Cities.
But as Feles observed the grand banquet, a thought struck him: 'If a mercenary group controls its own territory, can it still be called a mercenary group?' He mused with interest. 'At that point, it becomes a hegemon.'
Following tradition, Hoyt sat at the head of the gathering. He pressed his hands together, signaling for everyone to take their seats, then cleared his throat and addressed the crowd. "Everyone, I wonder if you still recognize me?"
His words elicited a ripple of laughter.
"This year marks the 29th year since the Windblown was founded," Hoyt continued. "In four months, we'll celebrate 30 years, and I will have been the leader of the Windblown for nearly three decades."
Hoyt's voice seemed to carry the audience back in time, to the early days of the Windblown. Many of those present had been mere children—some not even born—when the group was formed. A wave of nostalgia swept over the room.
"I've often wondered if I should remain leader for another four months to make it a full thirty years," Hoyt said with a hint of melancholy. "But I think it's time to pass the torch. While I may be old, the Windblown is still young and can't afford to be delayed."
Hoyt then turned his gaze to Viserys, and everyone followed suit. The attention of the room shifted to Viserys—Dany, Jorah, Regis, Spider Webber, Caggo, Gerrold, Dick, Meris—all eyes were on him.
Suddenly, Viserys was the focus of the entire gathering. He stood and walked over to Hoyt.
Hoyt smiled at him, then continued, "This is the young man who brought back hundreds of suits of armor from Volantis. When I asked him what he planned to do with them, he told me, plain as day, that he wanted to lead the Windblown!"
The crowd was taken aback by Viserys's audacity. They hadn't expected him to be so direct, and they were curious to know how Hoyt had reacted at the time.
The Red Viper grinned, remembering Viserys's straightforwardness from their time in Sunspear.
Arianne and Dany exchanged glances, then turned their attention back to the scene unfolding before them.
"Everyone knows that Viserys and Dany lost their loved ones to murderers. They've been consumed by a desire for revenge and the restoration of the Seven Kingdoms. Just like me," Hoyt said, his voice steady but full of emotion. "Viserys told me he would help me take Pentos—and he did. I have no doubt that one day, he will take back the Iron Throne!"
Hoyt paused, letting his words sink in before continuing, "Do you want your own castle? Your own territory? Do you want to become a Ser? Then follow him! He will give you the answers you seek!"
Hoyt, with the weight of thirty years of loyalty and leadership behind him, offered Viserys the most powerful endorsement imaginable. If Viserys had made these promises alone, they might not have carried the same weight. But coming from Hoyt, these words felt undeniably real.
"Viserys Targaryen!" Regis stood up and shouted, his voice cutting through the air.
"Viserys Targaryen!" Jorah, Webber, Caggo, and Dick echoed, rising to their feet with fervor.
"Viserys Targaryen!" Even Dany, overjoyed for her brother, joined in.
She and Viserys had left Braavos with a dream of commanding their own mercenary group, and now, they had not just a group—but the entire city of Tyrosh under their influence.
On this day, the Windblown turned a new page in its history. It welcomed its second captain, Viserys Targaryen.