The first joint exercise failed before either army reached the imagined enemy.
Three Unsullied horn calls ordered an organised withdrawal.
The Artemis infantry heard the signal correctly, but one cavalry company mistook the repeated notes for a warning of enemy riders and moved towards the southern flank instead of falling back.
The archers remained in position because their signal officer could not see the black withdrawal banner through the dust raised by a thousand horses.
Within moments, the training field west of Daetosh became a confusion of halted infantry, turning cavalry and messengers shouting in languages half the army could not understand.
No one was injured.
Mortarion considered that the exercise’s only success.
He watched from a low wooden platform overlooking the plain.
Blue Bat stood upon his right, while Corvus Harkonen occupied the left.
A translator remained between the two commanders, though Mortarion understood both of them without assistance.
Blue Bat spoke first in High Valyrian.
“The cavalry moved before the infantry cleared the route.”
The translator conveyed the criticism to Corvus.
“The cavalry moved because the horn signal was almost identical to the warning for mounted attack,” Corvus replied.
“Your signalmen left too little space between the calls.”
Blue Bat listened to the translation without changing expression.
“The distinction was clear.”
“To you.”
Mortarion looked across the field.
Three thousand Artemis infantry stood in ordered companies beyond the platform.
The Unsullied formations had already reassembled, their dark shields forming straight lines despite the disorder surrounding them.
Archers waited behind both forces, while cavalry officers struggled to return their horses to their original positions.
Each army had performed well according to its own habits.
Together, they had performed poorly.
“The signal was clear to those who already knew what it meant,” Mortarion said.
“That is not the same as a signal that cannot be misunderstood.”
Blue Bat inclined his head slightly.
Corvus folded his arms across his dark breastplate.
“The withdrawal should be three long calls,” he suggested.
“The cavalry warning should remain short and repeated.
No soldier will confuse them once he has heard both.”
Mortarion translated the proposal into High Valyrian.
Blue Bat considered it.
“Three long calls require more time.”
“Then the army will begin withdrawing several heartbeats later,” Corvus replied after hearing the translation.
“That delay is preferable to cavalry riding into its own infantry.”
Blue Bat accepted the change.
A scribe recorded it upon the signal list.
The two commanders had agreed upon their first set of battlefield commands quickly.
Making thousands of soldiers respond to those commands without hesitation proved more difficult.
The Unsullied obeyed sound and formation with near-perfect discipline.
Their officers issued orders in High Valyrian, and every soldier responded according to his position within the line.
They had been trained to function as parts of a single structure.
The Artemis Legion relied upon equal discipline but allowed greater initiative.
Company officers changed formations when the ground required it.
Cavalry commanders responded to opportunities without waiting for instructions from the centre, while archers adjusted their targets according to range and movement.
Neither method was inherently weaker.
The difficulty came when one force expected rigid order and the other expected adaptation.
During the first week, those differences appeared in every exercise.
Artemis infantry widened its files while advancing across uneven ground.
The Unsullied beside them maintained exact spacing, creating gaps between the forces.
When the Unsullied halted without warning to lock shields, Artemis soldiers sometimes continued several steps before recognising the movement.
The cavalry created the greatest danger.
The Unsullied had never fought beside large numbers of horsemen.
Their instincts had been shaped around receiving cavalry behind shields and spears, not opening their formation to allow friendly riders through.
During one exercise, Corvus ordered a cavalry company to retreat through the centre after a simulated attack.
The Unsullied closed the planned gaps too early, forcing the riders to turn aside before reaching the line.
Had the exercise been a real battle, several hundred cavalry might have been trapped beneath enemy pursuit.
Blue Bat blamed the riders for approaching too slowly.
Corvus blamed the Unsullied officers for closing the route before the final green pennant passed.
Both were correct.
Mortarion ended the exercise and ordered the manoeuvre repeated until neither side required explanation.
The first attempt took several minutes.
By the tenth, the Unsullied opened three lanes through the spear line as soon as the split green pennants appeared.
Artemis cavalry passed between them at speed.
The final riders carried black streamers, signalling that the route could be closed.
Spears lowered behind them before the imagined enemy reached the formation.
Corvus watched from horseback.
“That is serviceable,” he said.
Blue Bat listened to the translation.
“Serviceable is not sufficient.”
“It will be when the enemy has no time to practise against us.”
The Unsullied commander did not disagree.
Archery presented a different problem.
The thousand Unsullied who possessed short-bow training remained disciplined but inadequate compared with the Artemis archers.
Their volleys could be timed precisely, yet their range, speed and accuracy remained poor.
Corvus assigned one Artemis archer company to train beside them.
The difference became obvious during the first morning.
The Artemis soldiers judged distance with little discussion.
Their first volley landed inside the marked field, while many Unsullied arrows struck the ground short of the target.
When the range increased, the gap in ability widened further.
The Unsullied did not react with embarrassment.
They adjusted according to instruction and repeated every movement until ordered to stop.
Their lack of pride made them easier to teach.
Their lack of long experience with the bow limited how quickly they improved.
After three days, Corvus approached Mortarion and Blue Bat with a recommendation.
“The Unsullied bowmen should not attempt to match trained archers,” he said.
“They waste arrows trying to perform a role for which they were not prepared.”
Blue Bat waited for the translation before answering.
“What role do you suggest?”
“Use them close to the infantry.
Their shorter range matters less when firing into men already approaching the spear line.
They can also protect camps, roads and walls where perfect accuracy is unnecessary.”
Mortarion conveyed the answer.
Blue Bat looked towards the Unsullied bowmen practising beyond the camp.
“They remain infantry first.”
“Then stop pretending they are anything else,” Corvus said.
“Give them bows when bows are useful.
Return their spears when the enemy closes.”
The directness might have angered another commander.
Blue Bat merely considered whether the advice would improve the army.
“It will be done.”
The arrangement changed the following morning.
The Unsullied bowmen trained in front of the spear formations rather than beside the Artemis companies.
They loosed at shorter range, then moved through prepared gaps and collected shields and spears waiting behind the line.
The exercise suited them better.
Their arrows disrupted the imagined advance without requiring exceptional range.
Their withdrawal remained disciplined, and they rejoined the infantry before the enemy reached the shields.
The Artemis archers took responsibility for longer volleys and contests against enemy missiles.
Blue Bat accepted their superiority without resentment.
Corvus respected him more for it.
The two commanders still required translators for every detailed conversation.
Neither enjoyed the delay.
Corvus began learning High Valyrian before sunrise each morning.
Mortarion assigned Qavo Merrax and two Unsullied officers to instruct him in the words used most commonly during battle.
Advance.
Hold.
Withdraw.
Left.
Right.
Cavalry.
Archers.
Open the line.
Close the line.
Corvus learned quickly, though his pronunciation drew the attention of every Unsullied within hearing.
The soldiers showed no amusement, but Mortarion suspected their silence required effort when Corvus repeatedly transformed the High Valyrian word for cavalry into something closer to the word for burning goats.
Blue Bat learned commands from the Artemis Legion’s language more slowly.
The Unsullied commander possessed no difficulty remembering the sounds.
He repeated them exactly after hearing them once or twice.
Understanding how the words changed according to sentence and context frustrated him.
He eventually abandoned grammar and focused upon orders.
Corvus approved.
“A commander does not need poetry in the middle of a charge,” he said.
Blue Bat listened to the translated remark.
“He does not possess the voice for poetry.”
Corvus looked towards Mortarion.
“Did he say that?”
“He did.”
The faintest smile appeared beneath Corvus’s beard.
Their relationship improved in small exchanges rather than declarations of friendship.
Neither man needed affection from the other.
They needed confidence that orders would be obeyed and that a mistake would be admitted before it became fatal.
Mortarion observed them closely.
Blue Bat rarely challenged the purpose of an order but examined every weakness in its execution.
Corvus thought in opportunities, flanks and changing conditions.
Blue Bat thought in formations, endurance and certainty.
Together, they noticed problems Mortarion might otherwise have been forced to identify alone.
The drills expanded during the second week.
One army defended while the other attacked.
Artemis archers attempted to break Unsullied formations with padded arrows, while cavalry searched for exposed flanks.
Unsullied infantry advanced against the legion’s blackened shield lines, testing whether Artemis companies could resist their disciplined pressure.
The Unsullied usually held longer.
The Artemis Legion manoeuvred more effectively.
When placed upon open ground, the two forces often reached a stalemate.
The Unsullied refused to break, while the Artemis officers avoided wasting men against the strongest points of the spear wall.
Mortarion changed the exercises.
He ordered trenches dug, wagons placed as obstacles and sections of the field marked as rivers or impassable slopes.
Units were forced to respond to confused ground rather than meet in perfect lines.
The results became less predictable.
During one exercise, an Artemis infantry company moved around an exposed Unsullied flank only to find Blue Bat had concealed two hundred spearmen behind a line of wagons.
The Artemis company withdrew before becoming surrounded, drawing the hidden Unsullied away from the centre.
Corvus’s cavalry then struck the position they had abandoned.
Blue Bat lost the imaginary battle.
He spent the evening studying the field.
The next day, he placed false unit markers behind the wagons and kept the reserve closer to his main line.
When the cavalry moved to exploit the same weakness, hidden short-bow soldiers loosed from behind the obstacles while the spear formation turned to meet them.
Corvus lost more than half the simulated riders.
Neither commander repeated the same mistake twice.
By the end of the second week, the exercises began involving mixed formations.
Unsullied shield walls formed the centre.
Artemis infantry held the wings, where flexibility mattered more than immovable discipline.
Archers positioned themselves behind the line and adjusted their volleys according to flags raised by observers upon small wooden towers.
Cavalry remained beyond both flanks, waiting for the silver sphinx banner to dip before beginning an attack.
The first mixed exercise collapsed when dust hid the central signal.
The second failed after a messenger delivered an order to the wrong Artemis company.
The third succeeded until the Unsullied centre advanced too far and blocked the archers’ field of fire.
On the sixth attempt, the entire force performed the manoeuvre without serious error.
The Unsullied absorbed an imagined assault.
Artemis archers fired above them.
The infantry wings moved forward, containing the enemy between the blackened shield lines.
Cavalry rode around the southern flank and struck the rear as the Unsullied centre advanced.
Mortarion watched from Anaxion’s back.
The dragon circled high above the field, irritated by the horns and movement below.
Mortarion did not include him directly in the exercise.
Anaxion’s training remained too incomplete for men to practise safely beneath him.
Instead, Mortarion tested signals intended for the dragonrider.
A green flame banner marked a target for Anaxion.
A white banner crossed with black warned that friendly soldiers remained too close.
Three silver pennants ordered the army to open space for a dragon’s descent.
The signals could not command Anaxion.
They could tell Mortarion what the men below required.
Mortarion landed beyond the field after the final formation completed its advance.
Corvus and Blue Bat approached while the units returned to their camps.
“They are improving,” Mortarion said.
Corvus removed his helmet.
“They are no longer likely to kill one another before reaching the enemy.”
Blue Bat listened to the translation.
“That is serviceable.”
Corvus glanced at him.
The Unsullied commander had used his word deliberately.
“Serviceable,” Corvus agreed.
The armies were not truly integrated.
Their soldiers did not share a language, history or method of training.
Artemis legionaries spoke among themselves around their fires, while the Unsullied ate in organised silence or discussed orders in High Valyrian.
The separation was not necessarily harmful.
Mortarion did not need every soldier to become indistinguishable from the others.
He needed each army to understand where the other would stand when battle began.
By the third week, that understanding existed.
New problems emerged outside the training field.
The people of Daetosh had watched the Artemis Legion with suspicion since its arrival.
Their discipline caused less concern than their appearance.
Many of the soldiers possessed pale skin, sharp features and eyes in shades uncommon throughout most of Essos.
Silver-blond hair appeared among several companies.
Others had hair so pale beneath the sun that it seemed almost white.
Violet, grey and deep blue eyes were common enough to be noticed.
Not every legionary resembled the Valyrians of the old blood.
Enough did.
Rumours spread through the markets.
Some claimed the soldiers were dragonseeds gathered from across Essos.
Others believed Mortarion had found an army sleeping beneath the ruins of Valyria.
A merchant from Myr insisted the men had no families because they were ghosts taken from the Doom.
The story gained strength after several people noticed that none of the legionaries could clearly name the place from which he came.
Their altered memories provided impressions of campaigns, homes and distant regions, but no map in Daetosh contained those lands.
Most Artemis soldiers had learned not to answer questions from civilians rather than invent explanations.
Silence made them more suspicious.
Belarro brought the matter before Mortarion after a fight broke out near the western market.
Three legionaries had entered Daetosh under permission from their company officer.
A wine seller asked whether their pale-haired companion came from Lys.
When the soldier failed to understand the question, a customer accused them of being sorcerers created by Mortarion.
The legionaries attempted to leave.
The customer followed and pulled at one soldier’s green cloak.
The man broke his wrist.
No blade was drawn, and the legionaries surrendered to the local guard rather than resist arrest.
Mortarion considered their discipline acceptable.
The injured customer disagreed.
“He claims the soldier attacked him without cause,” Belarro said.
“Were there witnesses?”
“Seven.
All agree he seized the cloak first.”
“Then the soldier defended himself.”
“The broken wrist will still encourage the rumours.”
Mortarion sat at the head of the magistrates’ table.
Corvus stood near the window, waiting while Mortarion translated the account.
“He should not have allowed the man close enough to touch him,” Corvus said.
“But he showed restraint.
A legionary could have broken more than the wrist.”
Belarro did not understand the words, but Corvus’s tone made him uneasy.
“The people want to know who these soldiers are,” the magistrate said.
“They arrived without warning, many resemble Valyrians, and none will speak about their homes.
Even those loyal to you are beginning to ask questions.”
Mortarion had expected the issue.
He had hoped victory against Tyrosh would delay it.
Fear and curiosity rarely remained separate for long.
“What explanations are people already suggesting?” he asked.
Belarro counted them carefully.
“That they are survivors from Valyria.
That they were hidden by House Belaerys.
That they are slaves from Lys.
That they came from beyond Asshai.
Some believe they are dead men returned to life.”
Corvus looked towards Mortarion after receiving the translation.
“The final explanation is closer than the others.”
“It is also the one they must not believe.”
Mortarion had protected the truth of his arrival from Astapor.
He would not reveal that Death could provide armies to the people of a town whose allegiance had changed every fortnight before his occupation.
The Artemis Legion required an origin the surrounding cities could understand.
It did not need to be perfect.
It needed to be possible.
“Officially, the legion was gathered from Lys, Volantis, Pentos, and a few from Qohor and Myr.
” Mortarion said.
Belarro studied him.
“From five cities?”
“Yes.
The old branch of House Baraeris survived by spreading its households and retainers across Essos.
Some settled among Valyrian families in Lys.
Others entered military service in Volantis or lived as merchants and guards near Pentos.”
The magistrate listened closely.
“The legion was assembled from their descendants?”
“From descendants, hired veterans and men bound to my house through old agreements.”
Corvus understood enough from Mortarion’s tone to know that a deception was being formed.
Mortarion repeated the explanation for him.
The legion commander frowned.
“My men will be asked questions about cities they have never seen.”
“That creates suspicion.”
“Detailed lies create contradictions.
Simple lies create uncertainty.”
Mortarion looked towards Belarro.
“The men were recruited in separate groups.
Some came by ship to hidden landing places.
Others travelled with merchant caravans or gathered beyond Daetosh before entering together.
Their officers were ordered to conceal the movement until I publicly called them into service.”
Belarro remained unconvinced.
“No one saw thousands of soldiers landing along the coast.”
“Corsair’s Bay remained abandoned for years.
Smugglers used smaller inlets throughout the region.
Tyrosh cannot account for every vessel sailing from Lys, Volantis, Myr or Pentos.”
“That explains how some arrived.
Not all.”
“It does not need to explain every movement.
Anyone demanding complete records may be told that House Baraeris does not reveal the routes used by its army.”
Belarro slowly nodded.
The lie contained enough truth to survive casual examination.
Lys, Volantis and Pentos all held populations with Valyrian ancestry.
Men from those cities could possess pale hair, unusual eyes and features similar to Mortarion’s.
Those cities also produced soldiers, sailors and mercenaries.
An army recruited among them was unusual but not impossible.
Qavo Merrax was summoned before sunset.
The scholar listened to the story and suggested several changes.
Claiming that all five thousand five hundred men descended from retainers of House Baraeris would strain belief.
Presenting the officers and oldest military families as hereditary followers while describing the rest as recruits made the account more credible.
Mortarion accepted the distinction.
The Artemis Legion became, in the official version, the result of decades of quiet preparation by the surviving branch of House Baraeris.
Its core came from Valyrian-descended households in Lys and Volantis.
Pentoshi, Myrish and Qohorik veterans, guards and landless fighters had joined through contracts.
Their unusual language was explained as a private military tongue preserved among the officers and taught to recruits to conceal battlefield commands.
Corvus objected to that part.
“Our language is not a military cypher.”
“In this world, it is.”
The commander considered the explanation.
“Will the men be required to call any of these cities their home?”
“No.
They will say their families came from those cities.
Nothing more.”
“That answer can be repeated.”
Mortarion ordered every company commander briefed.
Soldiers would not discuss the portal, Death or the world they could no longer remember.
Those questioned about their origins would use one of five answers.
Lys.
Volantis.
Pentos.
Qohor.
Myr.
They were free to say their families had moved between the cities or that they had been raised within military households.
They were not to invent streets, noble patrons or childhood details.
A narrow lie could be defended.
A complicated one would eventually collapse beneath its own weight.
Belarro announced the explanation to Daetosh’s magistrates and leading merchants.
Copies were sent towards Freerider Gate and Corsair’s Bay before rumours reached them through less reliable sources.
The people did not entirely believe it.
They accepted that disbelief openly brought no advantage.
Merchants quickly discovered that Artemis soldiers possessed wages and spent them.
Armourers found work repairing buckles, leather and equipment.
Horse traders entered negotiations with cavalry quartermasters, though most available animals lacked the size or training required by the legion.
Suspicion remained.
It became quieter once profit joined it.
The three weeks of training also altered how Daetosh viewed the armies.
The Unsullied had once seemed strange enough to unsettle the population.
Beside the blackened steel and green cloaks of the Artemis Legion, they became almost familiar.
Children began gathering near the edge of the training grounds to watch cavalry exercises.
Merchants sold food outside the camps.
Local labourers learned enough High Valyrian words to follow simple orders when delivering supplies.
The armies remained foreign.
They were becoming part of the landscape.
Reports from the west continued arriving.
Varos repaired its walls, deepened the ditch before its eastern gate and collected grain from surrounding villages.
Refugees and survivors from Narra crowded the town, straining its stores and spreading fear among the garrison.
Tyrosh had sent reinforcements, though fewer than Mortarion expected.
Several hundred men reinforced Varos.
More remained farther west, guarding the roads and coastal positions rather than risking another immediate battle.
The Archon was rebuilding his strength.
Mortarion intended to move before that process was complete.
During the fourth week, the joint training shifted from exercises to preparation.
Wagons were inspected and assigned to specific companies.
Grain, dried meat, medical supplies and spare weapons were divided between the Artemis Legion and Unsullied formations so the loss of one supply column would not cripple either force.
Farriers replaced worn shoes among the cavalry horses.
Archers received new bundles of arrows produced by craftsmen in Daetosh and Freerider Gate.
The quality varied, forcing Corvus to assign officers to inspect every shaft before it entered a company store.
The Unsullied repaired shields damaged at Narra.
Those unable to campaign remained in Daetosh, where Blue Bat began organising them into temporary training, administrative and guard duties.
Mortarion refused to treat the permanently injured as useless.
Soldiers who could no longer stand in the spear line could still supervise stores, keep records or train local watchmen.
The army selected for the Varos campaign began gathering west of Daetosh.
The entire Artemis Legion would march.
Its six infantry companies formed the central striking force.
Two archer companies remained with the main army, while the third, already stationed at Narra, prepared the forward camp.
Both cavalry companies would travel ahead and upon the flanks.
Four thousand Unsullied were selected from the soldiers fit for immediate service.
Another thousand waited at Narra.
The remaining Unsullied guarded Daetosh, Freerider Gate, Corsair’s Bay and the roads connecting them.
Wounded soldiers continued recovering beneath the care of the healers.
Once joined at Narra, Mortarion’s field army would number more than ten thousand men.
Blue Bat and Corvus reviewed the march order upon the final evening.
They required fewer translations than they had weeks earlier.
Corvus could now recognise most High Valyrian battlefield commands.
Blue Bat understood the fixed Artemis words used for movement, distance and danger.
Their conversations remained slow.
They no longer remained impossible without Mortarion speaking every sentence twice.
“The cavalry rides before sunrise,” Corvus said.
Blue Bat understood enough to answer in High Valyrian.
“Scouts first.
Cavalry after.”
Corvus looked towards Mortarion.
“He wants the Unsullied scouts ahead of my riders?”
“Yes.”
Corvus considered the order before nodding.
“Smaller groups will draw less attention.
My cavalry can respond if they find trouble.”
Blue Bat understood the answer after Mortarion translated only the final part.
The commanders had reached serviceable coordination.
Mortarion expected war to test whether it would become something stronger.
At dawn, the banners rose outside Daetosh.
The silver sphinx of House Baraeris stood at the centre.
Green standards marked the Artemis companies, while dark unit banners identified the Unsullied formations.
Infantry filled the western road.
Blackened steel and green cloaks stood beside dark shields and long spears.
Archers waited near the supply wagons, and cavalry gathered across the northern fields beneath split pennants.
The people of Daetosh watched from the walls.
They still whispered about the origins of the Artemis Legion.
Some accepted the Free Cities.
Others believed Mortarion had hidden a greater truth beneath a convenient story.
Their belief no longer determined the army’s purpose.
Mortarion mounted Anaxion beyond the encampment.
The dragon had watched the preparations with growing interest.
Through their bond came the familiar impressions of distant movement, open sky and approaching violence.
Varos waited more than a week to the west.
Its walls held Tyroshi soldiers, survivors of Narra and the first defensive position blocking Mortarion’s advance towards the western coast.
Mortarion looked down upon the two armies.
They did not yet move as one.
They moved well enough.
Blue Bat raised one dark shield.
Corvus drew his sword.
The horns sounded together.
Unsullied formations began marching towards Narra.
The Artemis infantry followed beneath green standards, their drums taking the pace as cavalry moved ahead of the column.
For weeks, Mortarion had prepared them to fight beneath the same banner.
Now House Baraeris was ready to march upon Varos.