The Orange Coast.
The land still belonged to Volantis.
Defeated in the Century of Blood, yes, but Volantis remained powerful.
It still held vast territory in an iron grip.
Silverblood Manor sat on that coast, the largest of the Valezeth estates.
Cleorius had generously funded six thousand Silverblood Legion soldiers from its yields.
Not from this estate alone, of course.
But Silverblood Manor carried the heaviest share.
The soldiers’ families lived here too.
House Valezeth built their homes and paid wages and stipends on schedule.
That was a large part of why the Silverblood Legion fought so well.
In the manor’s central courtyard, a eunuch warrior with a piercing voice drilled several boys through brutal training.
Beyond the Silverblood Legion, House Valezeth also commanded a sizable force of Unsullied.
Those eunuch soldiers, bred in the Ghiscari cities of Slaver’s Bay, were absolutely loyal, absolutely disciplined, and reputed to be the finest heavy infantry in the known world.
Under Cleorius’s reforms, the Valezeth Unsullied had their slave collars struck off, along with the degrading names their former masters had given them.
The best among them became spear instructors for the Silverblood Legion and even for Lancel’s household retainers.
Like the young eunuch warrior at the center of the courtyard.
Silver Scorpion came from Astapor, the Ghiscari city famous across the known world for producing and training Unsullied.
Slavers selected strong, promising boys and subjected them to brutal conditioning.
The boys were fully castrated and dosed with the toxic wine of courage.
Years of training stripped away every trace of individual personhood until they became, in the truest sense, steel.
Warriors forged this way, if a buyer paid for a formed Unsullied company and equipped them with heavy armor and long spears, could meet heavy cavalry head-on and fight to the last man.
The outcome was another question.
Silver Scorpion wore a silver-white breastplate and a silver spiked helm.
He leaned on a six-foot iron spear and watched the boys in the courtyard swing wooden lances, sweat streaming down their bodies.
The boy in front was about Lancel’s age and looked almost identical to him.
The differences were small: this one kept his silver hair cropped short, and his eyes were violet with a hint of blue.
Valar Valezeth stood taller than his twin brother Lancel and carried a sturdier frame.
Young as he was, his bare torso already showed solid muscle.
A cast-iron spear tore through a straw training dummy like lightning.
Valar withdrew the spear and took the silk cloth the dark-haired boy beside him offered, wiping the sweat from his body.
“Hoffer.
Any word from home?”
The dark-haired boy, Hoffer, had distinctive golden eyes.
He and his younger brother Adams came from distant Westeros.
Lysene pirates had captured the brothers during a raid.
Lancel’s warships had rescued them.
In fact, during that period, Lancel had seized thousands of boys and girls from Lysene pirate ships alone.
Some were sent home.
Some stayed with House Valezeth.
Hoffer, Adams, Sebastian Flamebane, and Amos Fazer were among those who stayed.
“The lord has returned to the family seat.” Hoffer wiped the grime and sweat from his own body.
“Amos, Sebastian, and Argo are already at the manor.
They’re organizing the Silverblood Legion’s reassembly with the commanders.”
“Reassembly?” Valar remembered his brother’s instructions before sending him to Silverblood Manor.
“So my brother has finally decided to explore Valyria.” The boy sounded almost excited.
“Adams has already gone ahead with Lord Aslan Londer, leading twelve hundred Silverblood soldiers to the family’s port and shipyards.
The next wave is Sebastian and Lord Gunther Flamebane.
They’re the main force.
Three thousand Silverblood and fifteen hundred Unsullied, following Lord Aslan’s contingent.”
“And us?”
“We’re the third wave.”
“What?”
Valar looked displeased.
“I thought we’d be in the first wave.”
Hoffer shook his head.
“We’re handling the final elite detachment.
And confusing the people in Volantis with bad intentions.”
Valar frowned, not quite following.
“Young master, you are the lord’s twin brother.
As long as you’re here, neither the Tigers nor the Elephants will realize what the lord is truly planning.”
“Got it.” Valar didn’t care whether he understood the politics behind it.
He only needed to stay put and not mess up his brother’s plan.
“Hoffer.
Train mounted lance with me.”
Hoffer looked at Silver Scorpion, who had remained silent.
The eunuch warrior nodded and signaled a groom to bring the horses.
The courtyard was large enough for cavalry charges.
Young squires helped Valar and Hoffer into their armor and handed them lances.
“You have to admit, the Andal heavy knights are a formidable force.” Silver Scorpion watched the two boys finish arming, take up their lances, and advance toward each other at a walk.
“Against a thousand Andal knights charging with lances, it would take several times that number in heavy Unsullied just to hold the line.”
The horses began to accelerate.
Crack.
A lance snapped.
Valar spurred his horse and snatched a fresh lance in one motion.
Hoffer swayed but stayed in the saddle and took the lance his squire handed him.
Second pass.
Hoffer’s lance caught Valar square in the chest.
The lance broke.
Valar barely rocked in the saddle, as if nothing had happened.
Third pass.
This time Hoffer took the hit to the chest and stomach.
The dark-haired boy nearly got knocked clean off.
Nearly.
But Hoffer held firm on his horse.
“Well done.” Valar was immensely strong.
A twelve-foot lance felt like a toy in his hands.
Fourth pass.
Valar and Hoffer struck each other’s chests almost simultaneously.
Lances shattered.
Only one boy stayed mounted.
Valar rode his horse in two slow circles around Hoffer, who lay sprawled on the ground without a shred of dignity.
Then he climbed down grinning, reached out, and hauled Hoffer to his feet. Enjoying the story? Read on at g.com.
“I hear the nobles back in your homeland love this game?”
Hoffer spat dirt from his mouth.
“Yeah.” His expression darkened, as if recalling something unpleasant.
“Back in my village, the knight would squeeze money out of everyone just to enter some great lord’s tourney.
Our village knight was exactly like that.
Always gambling on duels, always losing his horse and armor, then coming back and demanding more coin.
Oh, and when the Lysene raiders came, he demanded men too.
My father died fighting them.”
“Adams told me about it.” Valar clapped his friend on the back through gritted teeth.
“But every time I hear it, I think that guy back in your homeland was absolute scum.”
“That’s why we’re all grateful to the lord and the old master.” Hoffer’s voice steadied.
“They made sure no one went hungry.
No one had to worry about Lysene or ironborn raiders snatching them.
No one had to worry about buying salt or medicine.”
Valar suddenly thought of something.
“Hoffer.
If you went back home now, would you still be afraid of that guy in your village?”
Hoffer laughed.
“Not a chance.
I could take ten of that waste of air now.
Put me on a warhorse, and I’d charge a Stag knight head-on.”
“Stag?”
“The lord of the lord of the lord of the lord of that guy I mentioned.
A duke’s knight in Westeros.
I heard they live in a huge castle with a round tower taller than a mountain.” Hoffer tried to sketch the memory with his hands.
“Their knights ride out under a banner with a crowned stag.”
Valar searched his memory.
Then gave up.
“Hah.
Hoffer, I believe you.
One day you’ll take on ten Stag knights.
Maybe even fight that duke you mentioned.”
Hoffer scratched his head, a little embarrassed.
At that moment, a man in Silverblood Legion uniform ran into the courtyard.
He scanned the area, spotted them, and hurried over.
He snapped a crisp military salute before Valar.
“My lord.
A letter for you.”
Valar stared at the man, confused.
“A letter for me?
From the Valezeth manse inside the Black Walls?”
Silver Scorpion had been watching the man for several seconds.
Suddenly he shouted.
“Who are you?
Stay away from the young master.”