Daetosh had survived because it had never confused endurance with pride.
The town’s walls carried the evidence of every army that had passed through the Disputed Lands.
Some sections had been built from pale stone, while others consisted of red brick, timber and rubble taken from buildings destroyed during earlier sieges.
Three towers leaned slightly away from the road, their foundations weakened by fire and neglect.
The western gate still bore grooves where a battering ram had struck it years earlier, though no one in the town could remember which army had been responsible.
Inside the walls, life continued with the weary obedience of a population accustomed to changing masters.
The markets reopened the morning after Mortarion’s arrival.
Merchants raised their awnings, craftsmen returned to their workshops, and farmers entered through the gates with carts of grain and vegetables.
The people watched every Unsullied patrol with caution, waiting for the looting, beatings or forced collections that usually followed an occupation.
None came.
Mortarion had forbidden soldiers from taking anything without payment.
Storehouses belonging to the magistrates were inspected, but their contents remained untouched except for grain purchased to support the garrison.
Local guards were permitted to retain their weapons after swearing obedience, though Unsullied officers took control of every gate and tower.
The absence of immediate violence did not create trust.
It created confusion.
Mortarion considered that a useful beginning.
He stood within the magistrates’ hall three days after the occupation, examining a large map of the surrounding lands.
The parchment had been pieced together from several smaller charts, each drawn in a different hand and using different symbols for roads, villages and boundaries.
No two maps agreed on where one territory ended, and another began.
That was the nature of the Disputed Lands.
Borders existed only until an army crossed them.
Magistrate Belarro Vezhar stood on the opposite side of the table, accompanied by two other officials and Blue Bat.
The magistrates had changed their clothing since the Tyroshi banner came down.
The red and black embroidery associated with Tyrosh had disappeared, replaced by plain robes that could serve beneath any ruler.
Mortarion noticed the decision but made no comment.
Belarro pointed towards the western edge of the map.
“Tyroshi forces occupy most of the territory around the western and north-western coast, occupying towns such as Mantar, Maedros and Varos.
Their nearest permanent garrison at Varos is believed to contain nearly two thousand men, though the Archon’s captains frequently move sellsword companies through the area.”
Mortarion followed the road with one finger.
“And farther west lies Tyrosh itself.”
“The island city lies beyond the coast.
Its fleets control much of the surrounding water, and its merchants supply the mainland garrisons from several ports.”
Tyrosh was the most immediate threat.
Its occupied territories began west of Daetosh and extended towards the coast.
The exact strength of its forces remained uncertain, but the striped banners flying from nearby towns demonstrated the Archon’s influence.
Mortarion had no intention of attacking the island city.
Tyrosh possessed walls, towers, warships and generations of experience defending itself from rivals.
His merchant galleys could carry an army, but they were not built to break a fortified harbour.
The mainland was different.
Tyroshi authority there depended upon garrisons, roads and the willingness of local settlements to continue raising its banners.
Mortarion could weaken that authority without sailing anywhere near the island.
He shifted his attention towards the south-east.
Lyseni territory stretched across another portion of the Disputed Lands, though its control was less direct.
Lys preferred to use hired companies, wealthy landholders and local clients rather than maintain large numbers of its own citizens inland.
The island city of Lys lay farther south across the water.
Unlike Tyrosh, it possessed no reason to oppose Mortarion immediately.
Its rulers might even welcome a force capable of weakening their western rival, provided they did not begin fearing that Mortarion intended to dominate the entire region.
Mortarion looked north.
Myr and its occupied territories controlled several important roads, fertile valleys and fortified towns.
The Myrish had lost ground to Tyrosh during recent campaigns along the northern coast, though they retained enough strength to contest the region.
Daetosh stood between them all.
To the west waited Tyroshi banners and the road towards the coast.
To the south-east lay territory influenced by Lys.
To the north were Myrish lands and towns paying taxes to Myr.
The town occupied the centre of a struggle that had continued for generations.
Its magistrates had survived by changing loyalty every time one neighbour became stronger than the others.
Mortarion intended to end that habit.
Belarro watched him study the map.
“You now understand why Daetosh cannot openly oppose any of the Free Cities for long.
Each possesses armies, ships and wealth far beyond what this town could resist.”
“That was true before my arrival,” Mortarion replied.
“It is no longer entirely true.”
Belarro glanced towards Blue Bat.
Eight thousand Unsullied remained in and around Daetosh.
Their tents had been raised beyond the walls because the town could not house them all, while patrols controlled every road approaching the settlement.
Anaxion rested beyond the river.
The dragon’s presence had emptied several nearby farms until Mortarion personally assured their owners that the beast would not be allowed to hunt livestock.
Even then, few people willingly approached the fields while Anaxion was awake.
Belarro lowered his voice.
“Your army is formidable, Master Mortarion, but Tyrosh can hire tens of thousands if the Archon believes the expense worthwhile.”
“Then we will ensure that every thousand he hires costs him more than it accomplishes.”
“You expect war.”
“I entered the Disputed Lands intending to fight Tyroshi forces.
Taking Daetosh merely gave them a reason to find me sooner.”
The magistrate looked uncomfortable.
Mortarion did not require him to be brave.
He required honesty, records and enough administrative competence to keep the town functioning.
He turned towards Blue Bat.
“What do we know of the coast south of here?”
The Unsullied commander pointed towards a curved inlet marked eight days from Daetosh.
“The nearest usable anchorage is known as Corsair’s Bay.
A settlement once stood along its shore, though it was destroyed during a war between Tyrosh and pirates.
The docks were burned, and most of the population fled.”
“Can the fleet enter safely?”
“The magistrates possess no recent charts of the water.
Local traders claim the bay is deep enough for merchant galleys, but the old harbour may contain wreckage.”
Belarro nodded.
“Corsair’s Bay was once used by smugglers and independent captains.
The coastline shelters ships from eastern winds, and fresh water can be found a short distance inland.
Tyroshi forces burned the settlement nearly twelve years ago because its merchants traded with Lys without paying Tyroshi duties.”
“Why was it not rebuilt?”
“No city wished to spend coin rebuilding a harbour that another army could destroy within a season.”
Mortarion studied the bay.
A destroyed settlement did not concern him.
Buildings could be repaired more easily than a poor location could be improved.
The sheltered water, access to fresh water and proximity to Daetosh made Corsair’s Bay valuable.
His fleet remained at the landing site where the army first reached the Disputed Lands.
The ships were guarded by two thousand Unsullied, but the location lacked proper docks, warehouses and roads.
Keeping the fleet there would separate Mortarion’s land forces from their only means of leaving the region.
Corsair’s Bay offered a solution.
A road connected it to Daetosh, though sections had fallen into neglect.
Between the two stood a smaller walled settlement named Freerider Gate.
It was a four-day march from either location.
Mortarion placed one finger upon it.
“What can you tell me about this town?”
Belarro leaned closer.
“Freerider Gate has a population of perhaps ten thousand if the nearby farms are included.
It was built around an old toll road used by mounted sellswords travelling between the coast and Daetosh.”
“Who controls it?”
“At this moment, no one with meaningful strength.
Its magistrates claim loyalty to Tyrosh, but the striped banner was raised only after a patrol passed through two weeks ago.
Fewer than one hundred town guards defend the walls.”
“Freerider Gate offers little beyond its location.
It has no wealthy markets or strong walls, and every army travelling through demands food.
Most rulers consider it useful only while moving between Daetosh and the coast.”
That location made it essential to Mortarion.
Freerider Gate sat directly between Daetosh and Corsair’s Bay.
A force marching from the small town could reach either place in four days.
Whoever controlled it could protect the road, move supplies and prevent an enemy from separating the inland settlement from the fleet.
Mortarion looked at Blue Bat and spoke High Valyrian.
“How many soldiers are required to occupy it?”
“One thousand should be sufficient if the town does not resist.
The local guards cannot challenge that number, though the walls would need repair before the settlement could withstand a determined assault.”
“Select one of the senior officers and prepare a thousand men.
They will leave before dawn tomorrow.”
Belarro’s eyes widened slightly as the translator relayed what was said.
“You mean to take Freerider Gate immediately?”
“I mean to secure the road before Tyrosh understands what has happened here.”
“The magistrates may open the gates, but they will send ravens west as soon as they see your soldiers.”
“They would send ravens even if we remained in Daetosh.
The difference is whether those messages describe a growing position or an army waiting to be surrounded.”
Blue Bat studied the road.
“The thousand soldiers will be separated from Daetosh for several days.
If Tyroshi cavalry intercepts them, they may be forced to fight without support.”
“They will march with sufficient food and scouts.
Anaxion and I will observe the road from above before they leave.” Mortarion turned towards the magistrates.
“I require every record you possess concerning Freerider Gate.
Grain stores, wells, walls, officials and local families with influence.
My officer will know who must be watched before entering the town.”
Belarro bowed his head.
“The records will be gathered.”
Mortarion returned his attention to Corsair’s Bay.
“A raven will be sent to the fleet today.
The ships are to sail west and gather outside the bay until the water is inspected.
Horon will examine the remains of the docks and determine what can be repaired.”
Blue Bat nodded.
“How many soldiers should remain aboard the ships?”
“All two thousand for the moment.
They will secure the shore after the fleet arrives.
Once Freerider Gate is occupied, we can begin moving supplies along the road.”
Belarro looked between the three marked positions.
Daetosh formed the inland centre.
Freerider Gate controlled the road and acted as a bridge for the two locations.
Corsair’s Bay provided access to the sea from the southern coast.
For the first time, Mortarion’s territory possessed shape.
It was small and vulnerable, but it was no longer a single isolated town waiting for the next army to arrive.
He now had the beginnings of a realm.
Mortarion rolled a small piece of parchment across the table and began dictating the message for the fleet.
Blue Bat listened through a translator while a local scribe wrote.
“To the captains and officers holding the landing site.
The fleet will advance west along the coast towards Corsair’s Bay.
No ship is to enter the bay until Maelyra, Belicho Var and the navigators have confirmed the channel is safe.
Two hundred Unsullied will secure the ruins before any supplies are unloaded.
Horon will inspect the old docks and report what is required to restore them.”
The scribe paused.
Mortarion continued.
“Ships unable to enter will anchor beyond the bay beneath guard.
No sailor is to leave without permission, and no local vessel is to approach the fleet without being searched.
Send confirmation by raven before departure.”
The scribe finished and turned the parchment for inspection.
Mortarion read the message before pressing the sphinx seal into black wax.
The magistrates continued studying the sphinx, though Mortarion had chosen not to stop them.
The uncertainty surrounding the symbol was becoming useful.
Some believed it belonged to a forgotten Valyrian house, while others claimed it represented sorcery older than the Freehold.
Mortarion had not yet chosen a new family name.
Until then, the seal served as his banner.
Belarro summoned one of Daetosh’s raven keepers.
The man arrived carrying a wooden cage and wearing a robe stained with feathers and droppings.
He examined the destination written upon the message.
“The birds were trained to return to Daetosh, Master Mortarion.
They cannot be commanded to find ships upon an unfamiliar shore.”
Mortarion expected the difficulty.
“How were messages exchanged with the fleet while Tyrosh controlled this town?”
“Riders carried them to coastal posts.
Ravens can reach an old watchtower east of Corsair’s Bay, provided the keeper there still feeds them.” Belarro looked embarrassed.
“The watchtower belongs to no town at present.
Its keeper serves whoever provides grain.”
“Then send the bird there and order the keeper to deliver the message to the fleet when it passes.
A rider will follow with a second copy.”
The raven keeper bowed.
“It will take perhaps six days for the rider to reach the tower.”
“The fleet will require longer than that to sail around the coast.
The message should arrive first.”
The raven was released from the wall before midday.
It circled above Daetosh once before turning south-east.
Mortarion watched until the black shape disappeared into the distance.
Other ravens had already left the town.
The magistrates claimed ignorance when questioned, but Blue Bat’s soldiers discovered that at least three birds had been released during the first night of the occupation.
One travelled west towards Tyroshi territory, another north towards Myr and the third south-east.
Every major power in the region would soon know that Daetosh had changed hands again.
Tyrosh would take the news personally.
Its banner had been lowered, its riders dismissed, and an unknown dragonrider had announced his intention to fight its forces.
The Archon might have tolerated another temporary Myrish occupation.
Mortarion doubted he would tolerate this one.
Preparations for the march to Freerider Gate began immediately.
Blue Bat selected an officer named Green Slug to command the thousand soldiers.
His name sounded unusual, but the Unsullied appeared satisfied with it.
Mortarion met him inside the gatehouse that evening.
Green Slug stood beside the map while Blue Bat explained the assignment.
“You will march south-west along the coastal road until you reach Freerider Gate,” Blue Bat said.
“Scouts will travel half a day ahead of the main formation, and no village is to be entered without permission from its elders.”
Green Slug lowered his head.
“The soldiers will pay for all supplies taken during the march.”
“They will carry enough food to avoid taking anything unless necessary,” Mortarion added.
“The discipline of this army is part of the message we are sending.
Freerider Gate must understand that occupation by us will not resemble the passage of a sellsword company.”
“What action should be taken if the town closes its gates?” Green Slug asked.
“You will surround the settlement and offer terms.
The magistrates may remain in office, the local guards may keep their positions under your authority, and no property will be seized without compensation.”
“And if those terms are rejected?”
“You will wait.”
Green Slug looked towards Mortarion.
“You do not wish the walls attacked?”
“I do not wish ten thousand civilians frightened into a desperate defence when time favours us.
Their walls are weak, and they know they cannot defeat one thousand Unsullied.
Blue Bat pointed towards the road west of the town.
“If Tyroshi reinforcements approach, you will form outside the walls rather than allow yourself to be trapped between the town and an enemy force.”
“Freerider Gate may open its gates to the Tyroshi,” Green Slug observed.
“That is why you will occupy every gate once admitted,” Mortarion said.
“You may preserve the magistrates, but you will control the walls.”
The Unsullied commander accepted the order.
Mortarion gave him a sealed letter addressed to the magistrates of Freerider Gate.
It explained that Daetosh now rested beneath Mortarion’s protection and that the road to Corsair’s Bay would be secured.
The letter offered continued local government, protected trade and payment for all supplies used by the garrison.
It also made the consequences of refusal clear.
Freerider Gate could open peacefully to one thousand disciplined soldiers, or it could wait until Anaxion appeared above its walls.
Mortarion expected the magistrates to choose survival.
The column departed before dawn.
One thousand Unsullied marched through Daetosh’s western gate, their spears rising above the road in orderly lines.
Supply carts followed behind them, carrying food, tools and enough timber to establish temporary defences if the town remained closed.
The people of Daetosh gathered along the walls to watch.
They had seen armies leave before.
Most expected Mortarion’s soldiers to disappear into the Disputed Lands and return defeated, if they returned at all.
Mortarion stood beside Blue Bat until the final unit passed beyond sight.
He then approached Anaxion.
The dragon rested beyond the river, surrounded by the remains of a large wild ox.
Mortarion climbed along his foreleg and secured himself between the dark green scales.
“We will follow the road towards the coast.
You will remain high enough not to frighten the soldiers below.”
Anaxion responded with an impression of prey moving through distant grass.
Mortarion reinforced the direction towards Freerider Gate.
The dragon unfolded his wings and launched.
From above, the road appeared as a pale line cutting across ruined fields and scattered farms.
Green Slug’s formation moved south-west in a compact column, maintaining enough distance between units to avoid blocking the route.
Mortarion flew ahead.
He examined bridges, hills and abandoned settlements that could conceal enemy scouts.
Several riders fled when Anaxion crossed above them.
One wore Tyroshi colours, though Mortarion made no attempt to pursue him.
The message would reach the Archon regardless.
Freerider Gate appeared before midday.
The town was larger than Mortarion expected but less defensible than Daetosh.
A low stone wall surrounded crowded homes, workshops and markets built around the old road.
Two gates controlled passage between the coast and inland territory.
The town had likely earned its name from the mounted companies that once used it as a gathering point.
Several stables stood beyond the walls, though many had fallen into disrepair.
The striped banner of Tyrosh flew above the northern gate.
Mortarion circled once at a great height.
People gathered in the streets, pointing towards Anaxion.
Guards rushed towards the walls while the magistrates emerged from a large building near the centre of town.
Mortarion did not descend.
His appearance alone would prepare the town for Green Slug’s arrival.
He guided Anaxion towards Corsair’s Bay.
The ruined coastline came into view four days’ march south-west of Freerider Gate, though the dragon crossed the distance quickly.
A broad inlet cut into the shore, sheltered by two rocky headlands.
Blackened posts rose from the water where docks had once stood.
The ruins of warehouses and homes spread across the northern shore.
Roofs had collapsed, streets had become overgrown, and several burned ships rested half-submerged near the beach.
Despite the destruction, the bay remained valuable.
The water was calm.
A river entered from the south, providing fresh water and access to inland farmland.
The surrounding hills could hold watchtowers, while the old settlement provided stone and timber for rebuilding.
Mortarion directed Anaxion lower.
The dragon skimmed above the bay, startling birds from the ruins.
Mortarion examined the channels between the wrecks and the deeper water beyond the shoreline.
Sixty ships could gather there.
Docks could be rebuilt.
Warehouses could rise upon the old foundations.
Corsair’s Bay would become the port of his realm.
For now, the realm consisted of Daetosh, an army marching upon Freerider Gate and a ruined harbour waiting for the fleet.
It was small enough that the great powers of Essos might dismiss it.
A small realm could be strengthened before neighbours recognised its value.
Roads could be repaired, garrisons established and local populations brought beneath one law.
He did not need to conquer vast stretches of the Disputed Lands immediately.
He needed to ensure that whatever he claimed remained claimed.
Mortarion returned to Daetosh before sunset.
A messenger from Green Slug arrived five days later.
Freerider Gate had opened its gates without bloodshed.
The magistrates surrendered after observing the Unsullied formations and learning that Anaxion had passed over the town.
The Tyroshi banner was lowered, and the sphinx rose in its place.
Green Slug occupied the gates, central square and grain stores.
No looting occurred.
The local guard agreed to serve beneath his authority, while the magistrates retained responsibility for taxes, markets and civil disputes.
Freerider Gate’s population had reacted with the same cautious confusion seen in Daetosh.
The report satisfied Mortarion.
A second message arrived several days later from the coast.
The fleet had received his orders and was sailing west.
Corsair’s Bay would be inspected before entry, while scouts secured the surrounding ruins.
With those two movements, the shape of Mortarion’s territory became complete.
Daetosh formed the centre of administration and inland defence.
Freerider Gate protected the road.
Corsair’s Bay connected both settlements to the sea.
A traveller could march from Daetosh to Freerider Gate in four days, then reach Corsair’s Bay after another four.
Supplies could move between all three locations without crossing territory controlled by another power.
Mortarion now possessed his small realm.
It remained surrounded by stronger neighbours.
Tyrosh waited to the west.
Lys watched from the south-east.
Myr observed from the north.
None would allow an unknown dragonrider to establish himself in the centre of their contested lands without reaction.
In Tyrosh, the first raven arrived at the Archon’s palace shortly after sunset.
The message described the fall of Daetosh, the removal of the striped banner and the presence of thousands of foreign Unsullied.
It also spoke of a dragon larger than any living beast known beyond House Targaryen.
A second raven followed with news that an army marched towards Freerider Gate.
The third reported sails moving west along the distant coast.
The Archon read each message while his captains and magisters waited around him.
Mortarion did not hear the words spoken within that chamber, but he understood what they would mean.
Tyrosh had lost two settlements without a battle.
A foreign army now occupied the road towards Corsair’s Bay.
A dragonrider with no recognised house had established a foothold in territory the Archon considered his own.
The loss itself was small.
The insult was not.
Orders travelled from the island before dawn.
Ravens flew towards Tyroshi garrisons across the mainland.
Sellsword captains were summoned, patrols redirected, and officers commanded to learn everything they could about Mortarion and his army.
The Archon of Tyrosh had been angered.
Mortarion welcomed the response.
His banner now flew above two towns, and his fleet approached the first harbour of his new realm.
The Disputed Lands had spent centuries obeying whichever power appeared strongest.
Soon, Tyrosh would send soldiers to test whether Mortarion deserved that position.