The people of Daetosh heard the Artemis Legion before they saw it.
Drums rolled across the plains west of the town, slow and deliberate, each beat carrying through the morning air.
Trumpets followed in measured intervals, their notes rising above the walls and drawing merchants, labourers and local guards from their work.
At first, many believed another enemy army had arrived.
The markets emptied with familiar speed.
Shopkeepers pulled shutters across their windows, while farmers abandoned their carts near the gates.
Local guards climbed the patched towers and stared towards the western road, trying to identify the banners approaching through the pale morning haze.
The Unsullied did not share their panic, forming along the eastern gate in disciplined ranks, dark shields resting beside them and long spears held upright.
Blue Bat stood above the gatehouse.
He watched the distant column without movement while a local interpreter waited several steps behind him.
The first banners emerged over the eastern rise, and they were not the striped standards of Tyrosh.
Dark-green cloth moved above the road, bearing symbols unfamiliar to the people of Daetosh.
Beneath them marched soldiers clad in blackened steel and green, their armour catching little of the sunlight and giving the approaching formations the appearance of a shadow advancing across the plain.
Six companies of infantry led the march, shields close to their bodies while spears and swords moved in ordered lines above them.
Green cloaks hung from their shoulders, shifting with every step.
Behind them came three companies of archers, bows protected against the morning damp.
The cavalry followed upon both sides.
A thousand mounted soldiers rode in formations more disciplined than any sellsword company Daetosh had seen.
Their horses remained calm beneath blackened armour and heavy cloaks, neither surging forward nor falling behind.
At the head of the column rode Mortarion Baraeris, Aurion’s dark armour covering him from throat to heel.
Dreaded Deliverance rested across his back, while the silver sphinx of House Baraeris flew beside the green standards of the legion.
Commander Corvus Harkonen rode to his right.
The song began as they approached the town.
“Steel in the dawn and death in the rain,
We march for the banner through glory and pain.
First to the breach and last from the field,
Artemis guide us, we never shall yield.”
Five thousand five hundred voices carried the verse towards Daetosh.
The townspeople gathered upon the walls listened in uncertain silence.
They had become accustomed to the word Unsullied, even if they still understood little about the men serving beneath Mortarion.
This new force was different.
The soldiers marched like veterans, but they did not resemble the armies of Tyrosh, Myr or Lys.
They carried no collection of mismatched colours belonging to sellsword captains.
Their armour was too uniform, their movement too controlled and their banners too unfamiliar.
Belarro Vezhar reached the eastern gate while the legion was still half a mile away, climbing to the battlements and breathing heavily from the effort.
“Who are they?” he asked.
The interpreter repeated his question in High Valyrian.
Blue Bat did not look away from the approaching army.
“Soldiers summoned by Master Mortarion.”
Belarro waited for the translation.
“Another army?”
“Yes.”
“How many?”
“Five thousand five hundred.”
The magistrate gripped the stone wall.
Mortarion’s force had entered the Disputed Lands with ten thousand Unsullied.
Seven hundred had fallen at Narra, and hundreds more remained wounded.
Even after those losses, the sudden appearance of another force increased the army beneath House Baraeris to almost fifteen thousand fighting men.
Belarro looked towards the blackened armour and green cloaks.
“Where did they come from?”
Blue Bat answered without hesitation.
“Master Mortarion called them.”
“That does not explain where they came from.”
“It explains enough.”
The eastern gate opened.
Mortarion entered first, followed by Corvus and a small group of Artemis Legion officers.
The main body halted outside the walls, where the infantry began forming camps under the direction of their company commanders.
Daetosh could not contain another five thousand soldiers.
Its nearby fields would have to support a second military encampment, while the magistrates found additional wells, grain stores and grazing land for the cavalry horses.
Mortarion dismounted inside the gate.
Blue Bat descended from the battlements and approached him, striking one fist against his chest.
“Master Mortarion.”
Mortarion answered in High Valyrian.
“My soldiers have arrived in full strength.
Their camp will be raised west of the town, beyond the existing defensive line.
No company is to enter Daetosh without permission from its officers.”
Blue Bat looked towards Corvus.
The legion commander had dismounted beside his horse, studying the Unsullied formations around the gate with the same deliberate attention Blue Bat gave the newly arrived soldiers.
Both men recognised discipline when they saw it, though neither understood the other’s language.
Mortarion stepped between them.
“Commander Corvus Harkonen, this is Blue Bat, commander of the Unsullied.”
Corvus placed one fist against his black breastplate.
Mortarion translated the introduction into High Valyrian, and Blue Bat repeated the gesture.
“Blue Bat says he welcomes a commander whose soldiers know how to march without blocking a road,” Mortarion translated.
Corvus glanced briefly towards the waiting Unsullied.
“Tell him I welcome a commander who closes his gates before asking questions.”
Mortarion translated.
The slightest movement passed through Blue Bat’s expression, and Mortarion suspected it was approval.
The two commanders examined one another in silence.
Corvus was taller and broader, his dark hair touched with grey and his face marked by years of campaigning.
Blue Bat possessed no visible scars beyond the ordinary marks left by training and war, yet his stillness carried its own authority.
Corvus represented soldiers shaped by identity, memory and shared campaigns.
Blue Bat represented soldiers shaped by absolute discipline.
Mortarion needed both.
“The two of you will meet in the magistrates’ hall once the legion’s camp is established,” Mortarion said.
“Until suitable translators are trained, I will convey the discussion between you.”
Corvus frowned slightly.
“The entire army speaks only that language?”
“The Unsullied speak High Valyrian.”
“And the people of the town?”
“Mostly local dialects derived from Valyrian.
They require translators to understand the Unsullied, just as you do.”
Corvus considered the inconvenience.
“That will complicate battlefield command.”
“It will, which is why the two forces will retain separate command structures.
Orders between formations will pass through me or designated signal systems until the officers learn enough words to coordinate directly.”
Blue Bat listened as Mortarion translated.
The Unsullied commander answered in High Valyrian.
“He suggests that both armies establish shared horn and banner signals before marching together,” Mortarion conveyed.
Corvus nodded immediately.
“Signals should be simpler than spoken commands.
Advance, withdraw, hold, turn, enemy cavalry and request support.
More complicated orders can pass through riders.”
Blue Bat agreed.
Their first decision required no argument, and Mortarion regarded that as promising.
The Artemis Legion raised its camp throughout the morning.
Its infantry formed straight avenues of tents beyond Daetosh’s western wall, company standards marking each section while trenches and latrine pits were established before many soldiers removed their armour.
The archers built covered racks for bows and arrows, fletchers inspecting strings damaged by the rain that accompanied their arrival while officers recorded the number of shafts carried by each company.
Temporary paddocks rose north of the camp, surrounded by rope and sharpened posts.
Farriers examined hooves, and quartermasters began measuring the grain required to support one thousand horses.
That expense became the first immediate concern.
Mortarion’s Unsullied possessed no cavalry and therefore required little fodder beyond the animals pulling wagons.
The Artemis Legion brought a force capable of rapid movement, scouting and pursuit, but its horses would consume food at a rate Daetosh’s existing supply officers had not planned to support.
Belarro presented the matter before the afternoon council.
“Daetosh can provide grain for the legion for several weeks,” he said, “but doing so without proper contracts will empty the market stores before the next harvest.”
Corvus stood on the opposite side of the map table.
He could not understand the magistrate, so Mortarion translated the concern.
“The legion carried supplies through the portal,” Corvus replied.
“Not enough for a long campaign, but enough to avoid dependence upon the town immediately.
Our quartermasters estimate ninety days at full ration.”
Mortarion translated the answer for Belarro.
The magistrate looked relieved.
“Then we have time to purchase more from surrounding settlements.”
“Do not rely upon villages west of Narra,” Mortarion said.
“Tyroshi survivors will pass through them, and Varos may begin taking grain for another host.”
Belarro’s relief disappeared.
“You believe the Archon will send another army so quickly?”
“He cannot ignore what happened at Narra.”
Mortarion placed a casualty report upon the table.
The victory had already begun travelling faster than any organised messenger.
Merchants had carried the first accounts north and south.
Tyroshi survivors spread their own stories while fleeing towards Varos, describing dark shield walls that would not break and green dragonfire falling upon Hestar’s rear.
Each retelling enlarged Anaxion.
Some claimed the dragon had burned half the host with a single breath.
Others said Mortarion had emerged from the flames unharmed and personally cut down Hestar before feeding his body to the beast.
The truth was severe enough.
Seven thousand Tyroshi veterans and sellswords had marched against House Baraeris.
Five thousand had died within two hours.
Hestar was dead, the four scorpions destroyed, and the survivors scattered.
Mortarion was no longer an unknown dragonrider occupying two minor towns.
He was now the commander who had destroyed a Tyroshi host.
Blue Bat arrived at the magistrates’ hall after inspecting the legion camp.
Qavo Merrax accompanied him, prepared to translate between High Valyrian and the local officials.
Mortarion still had to translate between Blue Bat and Corvus, but Qavo’s presence allowed the broader council to proceed without every statement passing through Mortarion twice.
The commanders took their places on opposite sides of the map, Mortarion standing at the head of the table.
“Before we discuss the next campaign, both armies must understand their current condition.”
He spoke first in the language Corvus understood, then repeated the statement in High Valyrian.
Blue Bat delivered his report.
Of the original ten thousand Unsullied, seven hundred had died at Narra.
Twenty-three more had succumbed to their wounds since the funeral, reducing the surviving Unsullied army to slightly above nine thousand.
Nearly eight hundred remained unable to fight.
Some would recover within weeks, while others had suffered injuries severe enough to remove them permanently from the spear line.
Over seven thousand Unsullied remained immediately capable of campaigning, though pulling all of them together would leave Daetosh, Freerider Gate and Corsair’s Bay exposed.
Corvus listened while Mortarion translated.
“The First Legion has five thousand five hundred men capable of marching,” he said when Blue Bat finished.
“The infantry and archers arrived with full equipment.
The cavalry horses are fit, though we lack replacement mounts.
Any losses among them will be difficult to recover quickly.”
Blue Bat asked a question in High Valyrian.
Mortarion translated.
“He wants to know the effective range of your archers.”
“Two hundred paces for organised volleys, farther when firing by elevation.
Their accuracy becomes poor beyond the first range, but their arrows will still disrupt formations.”
Mortarion conveyed the answer.
Blue Bat considered it before replying.
“Our bowmen performed poorly at Narra.
The Artemis archers should take priority in any contest against Tyroshi missiles.”
Corvus glanced towards Mortarion as the translation ended.
“Your commander admits weakness without attempting to conceal it.”
“That is one reason he commands.”
Corvus nodded.
“Then tell him the First’s archers will support his infantry whenever the ground permits.
A shield wall that holds as well as you described gives them time to work.”
Mortarion translated the statement.
Blue Bat’s answer came without hesitation.
“The Unsullied will hold.”
Corvus studied him for a moment, then looked down at the map.
“I believe him.”
The discussion turned towards Tyrosh.
Varos remained the nearest significant Tyroshi position.
Its garrison had originally numbered nearly two thousand, though Hestar had drawn veterans and supplies from the town before marching towards Narra.
The survivors from the battle would now be returning through its gates.
Mortarion estimated that Varos held between one thousand and fifteen hundred effective soldiers, depending upon how many fugitives had reached it and whether reinforcements had arrived from the coast.
North of the town lay Mantar and Maedros, both towns providing supplies and securities in Tyrosh’s occupied territories.
If the Archon intended to send a second host, troops and provisions would likely move through those positions before concentrating at Varos.
Corvus traced the road between Narra and Varos.
“How long would it take the infantry to march from Daetosh?”
“More than a week,” Mortarion answered.
“Narra lies three days west.
Varos is several days beyond it, depending upon the weather and wagons.”
“Then Narra should remain our forward position.”
Blue Bat listened to the translation and agreed.
“The ruins are already prepared.
The wells are usable, and the surviving walls protect supplies.”
Corvus looked towards him.
“We should reinforce them before the Tyroshi return.”
Mortarion translated.
Blue Bat pointed towards the northern route.
“Tyrosh may avoid Narra after what happened there.
A second army could march north, then turn south-east towards Daetosh.”
Corvus studied the ground.
“Can large wagons use that road?”
“Not easily,” Mortarion said.
“The route crosses broken ground and several streams.
Cavalry and light infantry could travel it, but a full host would lose time.”
“They might accept the delay to avoid another prepared field.”
“Which is why the Artemis cavalry will begin scouting beyond Narra.”
Corvus looked towards Mortarion.
“How far?”
“Half the distance to Varos at first.
They will travel in groups large enough to discourage small patrols but not so large that Tyroshi scouts cannot be captured.”
“You want prisoners.”
“I want information.
Prisoners are one source.”
“Unsullied scouts can accompany them.”
Corvus considered the suggestion.
“They will require a rider from the First to issue immediate commands.”
“The Unsullied scouts understand High Valyrian only,” Mortarion reminded him.
“Until signals are established, mixed patrols may create more danger than value.”
Corvus accepted the limitation.
“Then separate patrols should cover neighbouring routes and meet at fixed times.”
Blue Bat agreed once the proposal was translated.
Again, the commanders reached the same conclusion through different reasoning.
Mortarion looked between them.
“Tyrosh will expect us to remain near Daetosh while recovering from Narra.
The arrival of the Artemis Legion gives us strength the Archon does not yet understand.”
Belarro shifted uneasily.
“How long before word of these new soldiers reaches him?”
“Within a week,” Mortarion said.
“Perhaps sooner.”
The legion had marched openly across the plain and entered Daetosh beneath its banners.
Merchants, farmers and foreign agents would carry news in every direction.
Concealment was impossible, but confusion remained useful.
Tyrosh would not know where the legion came from, how long Mortarion had possessed it or whether more such soldiers waited elsewhere.
The Archon would hear of black-armoured infantry, disciplined archers and a thousand cavalry arriving without ships or visible supply trains.
Every attempt to explain them would make Mortarion appear more dangerous.
Corvus studied the western coast marked upon the map.
“What is your objective?”
“Tyrosh itself is not the objective,” Mortarion replied.
“The island city remains beyond the strength of our fleet.
We will take its mainland territories until the Archon either recognises House Baraeris or exhausts himself attempting to remove us.”
“Then Varos is the next logical target.”
“It may be, but logic is not the same as urgency.
Taking Varos would extend our border west and give us a stronger position.
It would also require a garrison and expose us to attacks from Mantar and Maedros.”
Blue Bat listened, then spoke through Mortarion.
“If Varos remains Tyroshi, it will become the gathering point for every future attack.”
Corvus tapped the town with one gloved finger.
“Then we do not need to hold it immediately.
We could isolate it.”
Mortarion looked towards him.
“Explain.”
“The cavalry cuts the western and northern roads.
Archers and infantry occupy the approaches without assaulting the walls.
Refugees and defeated soldiers remain trapped inside, consuming food.
If the garrison attacks, we meet it on chosen ground.
If it stays behind the walls, hunger does the work.”
Blue Bat considered the translated plan.
“The Unsullied can build fortified camps beyond bow range.”
“Exactly,” Corvus said.
“But only if Tyrosh cannot send supplies by another road.”
Mortarion looked towards the southern tracks.
“Varos receives most of its support from the coast.
We would need to control the road towards Tyrosh.”
“That requires cavalry.”
“We now have cavalry.”
The plan possessed merit, but Mortarion refused to commit before learning what Tyrosh intended.
A siege could trap his army near Varos while a larger host gathered farther west or in the north.
The Artemis Legion had only just arrived.
Its men needed to understand the Disputed Lands, local roads and the capabilities of the Unsullied before entering another campaign.
“We prepare for Varos without marching yet,” Mortarion decided.
“Two Artemis cavalry companies will begin reconnaissance tomorrow.
One will operate west of Narra, while the other examines the northern tracks.
No patrol approaches within sight of Varos unless ordered.”
Corvus inclined his head.
“The archers?”
“One company will move to Narra with a thousand Unsullied.
The other two remain near Daetosh until the road stores are expanded.”
Blue Bat accepted the allocation.
Mortarion continued.
“The six infantry companies will camp here for seven days.
During that time, both armies will establish shared signals and conduct formation exercises outside the walls.”
Corvus glanced towards Blue Bat.
“You intend to test how the formations work together.”
“I intend to discover their weaknesses before Tyrosh does.”
Qavo translated the statement for Belarro and the local officials.
The magistrate looked towards the window, beyond which the blackened armour of the Artemis Legion could be seen between the buildings.
“Daetosh has never held so many soldiers beneath one ruler.”
“That is why its supply records must remain exact,” Mortarion said.
“The army will pay for everything it consumes.
Any merchant raising prices beyond reason will have his goods assessed by the magistrates.”
Belarro lowered his head.
“It will be done.”
The council continued until evening.
Corvus and Blue Bat created the first shared battlefield signals.
One long horn blast would order attention.
Two would signal advance.
Three would command withdrawal.
A repeating short blast warned of cavalry, while a rising trumpet note requested missile support.
Banners would repeat those commands whenever battle drowned out the horns.
Language remained the greatest obstacle.
Corvus began memorising High Valyrian orders that evening, while Blue Bat learned the simplest commands used by the Artemis Legion.
Neither commander enjoyed relying upon translators, and their shared irritation encouraged rapid progress.
Beyond Daetosh, the two armies drilled together for the first time.
Blackened infantry advanced beside the dark shield walls of the Unsullied, while green-clad archers practised firing above their formations.
Cavalry circled the field, responding to the newly established horn calls.
News of Narra continued spreading.
Myr began considering whether House Baraeris might serve as an ally against Tyrosh.
Lyseni merchants saw opportunity in Corsair’s Bay, though their rulers feared what Mortarion might become.
In Tyrosh, there was only fury.
The Archon ordered Varos reinforced, hired more sellswords and sent ships to watch the southern coast.
Mortarion studied those reports beside his commanders.
The battle at Narra had transformed him from an inconvenience into a threat.
The arrival of the Artemis Legion ensured that threat could no longer be ignored.
Mortarion placed a marker upon Varos.
“Prepare Narra,” he ordered.
“The next time we march west, we will not be waiting for Tyrosh.”
Outside, Unsullied horns sounded alongside the drums of the First Legion.
The war was accelerating.