The Great Masters never imagined that Daenerys's army would breach the city gates so swiftly. There was nowhere left to flee. Nearly all of them were captured.
After ordering the removal of every slave collar in the city, Daenerys issued a decree that very day:
All forr slaves of ereen were to co forward and accuse the Great Masters who had abused them. From among the accused, she would select 113 of the most brutal offenders and nail them to wooden fras within the city, avenging the girls who had been crucified as road markers outside ereen.
Those whose cris were less severe would be imprisoned and held for later judgnt.
At first, the newly freed slaves of ereen dared not accuse their forr masters. But once a bold slave stepped forward and described his own tornt—and the murders of his fellow slaves—others slowly followed.
By midday, the list of Great Masters condemned to crucifixion was finalized.
They were gathered along the city's main thoroughfare, escorted by Unsullied soldiers who carried out the sentences. One by one, the Masters were nailed to wooden fras shaped like signposts, spaced twenty ters apart.
The road leading to ereen's greatest pyramid soon echoed with their screams.
Watching their suffering, Drogon felt nothing but grim satisfaction—no trace of pity. When they nailed little girls to wooden fras, they surely never imagined that such a fate would one day be their own.
On the second day after taking control of ereen, Daenerys ordered the massive statue atop the city's central pyramid—symbol of ereenese power—torn down and replaced with the banner of the three-headed dragon.
Three days later, order in ereen began to return.
Beyond those nailed to the wooden fras, more than sixty Great Masters guilty of particularly heinous cris were imprisoned in the dungeons.
In the council chamber, Daenerys and her advisers gathered to report and deliberate on the pressing matters of Slaver's Bay.
Astapor, guarded by a thousand Unsullied, was relatively secure for now. Yet their presence could only intimidate slaves and forr Masters alike; governance remained chaotic. The freed slaves lacked Cleon the Butcher's ambition, but new and unpredictable ideas would inevitably take root.
Yunkai, with Daren and a thousand Unsullied stationed there, was in better condition. The forr slaves had received resettlent funds and now owned hos of their own. Still, according to Varys's intelligence, the Yunkish Masters were secretly communicating with New Ghis and other powers, plotting to reclaim the city.
Beyond political instability, Slaver's Bay faced an even greater crisis: food.
For centuries, all three cities had relied on slavery as their economic foundation. Slaves were sold for gold; gold was used to feed and train more slaves; and the cycle continued endlessly.
Now everyone was free.
Most had no skills. After spending the resettlent funds Daenerys provided, many were left without livelihoods. Even those with useful trades found no employers willing—or able—to hire them.
What angered Daenerys most was what had happened just the day before.
Nobles and rchants from Qarth and the Sumr Isles had arrived in ereen seeking to purchase slaves. Shockingly, many ereenese citizens attempted to sell themselves.
When Daenerys forbade it, so even resented her—as if she had robbed them of a better life.
Seeing this scene, Drogon was reminded of The Shawshank Redemption—of the old Black man who had spent decades in prison and, after finally being released, found himself unable to adapt to life outside, even longing to return to his cell and live out the rest of his days there.
The slaves of ereen had been trained by the Great Masters since childhood. So were so deeply conditioned by slavery that they knew nothing except how to please their owners.
And according to Daario, slaves who possessed valuable skills often lived quite comfortably after being sold—adequate housing, decent food. Not every master abused their slaves.
Drogon had no idea how Daenerys was supposed to feed hundreds of thousands of mouths. Relying solely on the gold, silver, and jewels confiscated from the slave masters was clearly unsustainable.
For the first ti, he found himself missing the Imp—Tyrion Lannister.
These kinds of headaches really ought to be left to him.
After Jorah finished reporting on the general situation in the three cities, Daario spoke up about what he had been doing over the past two days.
"My queen, I have seized fifty-two large ships from the Great Masters."
Daenerys frowned slightly. "Why would you take their ships?"
The Great Masters were already terrified. If the Second Sons took their vessels, they would hardly dare resist.
"I know you like big ships," Daario said casually. "So I took the liberty."
Daenerys neither praised nor rebuked him. After all, she had once nearly married Xaro Xhoan Daxos just to obtain a fleet.
"Ser Jorah," she asked, "how many large ships do we have now in total?"
"Your Grace, one hundred and six."
Daenerys's eyes lit up.
"Then does that an I can cross the Narrow Sea and attack King's Landing?"
"I'm afraid not," Jorah replied. "Even if the ships could transport all the Unsullied and the Second Sons—and even if you withdrew the garrisons from Astapor and Yunkai and abandoned ereen—ten thousand n would still not be enough."
"King's Landing's soldiers are experienced, having fought both the North and Stannis. Their numbers are no smaller than yours. Your forces simply aren't sufficient."
The light in Daenerys's eyes faded instantly.
Ten thousand was still far too few.
Besides, she had no intention of abandoning Slaver's Bay. If she did, what kind of liberator would she be? What kind of Breaker of Chains? Who would ever believe her promises again?
She resolved to rule Slaver's Bay properly—to govern it well—before even considering an assault on King's Landing.
At that mont, an Unsullied announced that a ereenese noble requested an audience.
With all matters discussed, Daenerys declared the eting adjourned and ordered the man to be brought in.
"My Queen," said the young noble who entered, his hair slightly curled and a short beard framing his face. "I am Hizdahr zo Loraq, of the ancient House Loraq. I have co to ask that you release my father and allow him to return to the Temple of the Graces."
"Is your father in the dungeons?" Daenerys asked.
"He was nailed to a wooden fra," Hizdahr replied, resentnt flickering across his face. "He was old and weak. He has already died."
Daenerys's expression darkened slightly.
"I nailed him there to avenge the little girls made into road markers. He cannot be taken down."
"My father did not agree with crucifying those girls," Hizdahr argued. "He had no power to stop it."
[No innocent souls hang on those fras.]
Drogon scoffed inwardly. The cris had been exposed by the slaves themselves—written in black and white, impossible to deny. Even if Hizdahr's father opposed the crucifixions, he had committed more than enough other atrocities.
Daenerys shared the sa conviction. Not a single Great Master nailed to a fra had been wronged.
"He has already paid for his cris," Hizdahr said, dropping to his knees. "I only ask, as a son, that his body be spared the tornt of crows."
"You know what it ans to be pecked by crows," Daenerys asked coldly. "Did you ever think of the little girls?"
Hizdahr had no answer left.
He could only remain kneeling in silence.
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