"When those slave owners gather, that's when we strike," Viserys declared, his eyes fixed on the horizon.
Before setting his sights on Slaver's Bay, Viserys had carefully reviewed the Dragon Queen's successes and failures in the original timeline. The most crucial factor in her victory was swift action: she had dealt with the Wise Masters of Astapor decisively, beheading the leadership before they could rally their forces.
In essence, she executed a perfect "decapitation strike," neutralizing the heads of Astapor's power while simultaneously securing the Unsullied army. Legally, she had obtained the Unsullied Sceptre, and in reality, she had eliminated those who once held control over the slave soldiers. Under the firm belief that the Unsullied were bound to follow the holder of the sceptre, she claimed them without resistance.
For Viserys, the plan was clear: Seize the Unsullied Sceptre and eliminate all the Good Masters.
Now, the slave masters were plotting to kill him, and he intended to kill them in return. The irony was that neither side wanted the other to know. The slave owners had no idea Viserys intended to execute them, and they didn't want Viserys to discover their own plot against him. What would unfold next was a great drama of mutual deception.
As the first rays of dawn broke over the horizon, the Dragon fleet—its black sails billowing—arrived at Astapor. At the main port stood the eight Good Masters, just as Regis had described in Viserys's dream. Among them was Pree, the Warlock of Qarth.
Viserys knew that if he wanted to conquer Astapor and eventually all of Slaver's Bay without alerting Qarth, he needed to deal with Pree first. He had already devised a plan with Dany: once they docked, Dany and Pree would be sent off to Qarth, under the guise of diplomatic necessity.
Viserys would strike as soon as they were halfway there. Once Slaver's Bay was in his hands, he would immediately turn his attention to Qarth. The distance between the two was vast—by horse, it would take over 40 days. On foot, nearly a month. By ship, more than half that time.
That meant Viserys had plenty of time to attack, capture Slaver's Bay, and solidify his control before anyone could interfere.
"Ser Connington, take all the soldiers in Valyrian steel armor and ensure the Princess is protected. Don't let the Warlocks get anywhere near him," Viserys commanded.
"Your Grace, I'll see to it," Connington replied with a solemn nod.
Dany, still concerned, added, "No, brother, you should keep half the soldiers for yourself."
Viserys smiled confidently. "Don't worry. These fools can't touch me."
Unable to argue further, Dany gave in.
As the fleet docked, the Good Masters of Astapor were waiting, looking as though none of them had slept.
They varied in height and weight, their appearances as distinct as the styles of their toka robes. Though all the slave owners in Slaver's Bay wore these robes, the designs differed depending on their city. The Good Masters of Astapor favored robes with colorful tassels, some adorned with pearls, others with gems.
In the original timeline, because Daenerys was perceived as weak, these slave owners remained seated in their chairs when meeting her. But now, facing Viserys, even the oldest among them, supported by slaves, stood tall and proper.
Viserys had proven himself fluent in Valyrian during his time in Slaver's Bay, so none of the slave owners dared speak their crude local dialect in front of him. However, the Valyrian spoken in Astapor had a strong accent, and they brought an interpreter along just in case—so they wouldn't miss a word if Viserys switched to the common tongue.
From his position on the ship, Viserys immediately recognized the young translator standing behind Kraznys: Missandei. Her dark skin, flat round face, and golden eyes made her stand out. She wasn't particularly beautiful, but she had a certain presence. In the original timeline, she was known not only for her ability to memorize everything she saw but also for speaking a dozen languages fluently. Missandei had deftly navigated the negotiations during Daenerys's trade for the Unsullied, pleasing both sides with her intellect and emotional intelligence.
Now, however, she was only nine years old—a year younger than when she appeared in the original timeline. As the only person in Astapor for whom Viserys held any regard, he found himself curious about how she would handle the events to come.
Viserys had already sent word ahead of his arrival, claiming that Robert Baratheon had "invaded" and that he needed to swiftly acquire the Unsullied.
Some of the slave owners couldn't help but feel regret.
"What a shame," said Tall Grazdan, shaking his head. "Under normal circumstances, we could've sold each Unsullied for three or even five times their original price."
"There's no point in thinking about profit now," Kraznys grumbled, his voice filled with frustration. "We can only hope the Warlocks of Qarth kill him. That's the only way Slaver's Bay will have a future."
Kraznys's heart ached at the lost opportunity. The chance to make a fortune slipped through his fingers, and it stung. But then his eyes shifted to the dragon circling above, and he remembered the dream that had haunted him. Suddenly, the thought of gold felt insignificant in the face of such power.
Behind him, the young translator Missandei clenched her fists, her anger flickering beneath the surface. She had known for some time that the slave owners were plotting Viserys's murder, but as a mere nine-year-old slave, there was little she could do.
Missandei's role as translator and clerk gave her access to information, and she'd heard rumors—whispers that Viserys was kind to slaves and might even be planning to abolish slavery entirely. Such talk had made him a hated figure among the slave owners of Slaver's Bay.
Go. Go away! she silently urged Viserys.
And then a thought struck her, bold and dangerous: Maybe I have a chance...
Her heart raced as she considered her brothers, taken by pirates along with her and now being trained as Unsullied. If she could warn Viserys, perhaps she could save them—and herself.
I have to do something, Missandei thought, determination surging within her. If I can warn him, maybe my brothers and I can survive.
A plan began to form in her mind, a daring and risky one. I will warn the king! Only he can save us!
She knew the risk. If she was caught, it could cost her life. But the thought of trading her life for the lives of her three brothers gave her strength.
Her heart pounded as she watched the silver-haired figure of Viserys step off the ship. Missandei's gaze drifted to the woman beside him.
That must be his sister. She's beautiful, Missandei thought, her admiration mixing with her anxiety.
"Hey! What are you staring at, you fool?" Kraznys snapped, his tone dripping with irritation. If it weren't for the crowd, he would've punished her on the spot.
Missandei, deep in thought, hadn't even realized Kraznys had moved ahead. Her mind was too preoccupied with her plan, her focus entirely on Viserys.
I need to warn him. But how? How can I make him believe me?
Her legs felt heavy, as if shackled, each step burdened by the weight of fear and uncertainty.