278 AD
Valley of the Sunfire.
As Doran had said, everything went smoothly. While I spent three weeks visiting Sunspear, sending letters with tasks and orders to my people in the Free Cities and getting to know the other Martells, rumors of the arrival of a Valyrian steel spear and a new vassal to the rulers of Dorne spread across the continent.
Almost everyone with even the slightest semblance of analytical thinking put two and two together and realized how the newly crowned Lord Felix Temper had acquired his new title. And they immediately laughed at my choice. The Red Vale, now renamed Sunfire Vale after my motto (which Doran greatly admired, as it was very Dornish and showed everyone to whom my house owed allegiance), like Dorne itself, was largely barren wasteland, except for the river and mountain regions. It was impossible to graze cattle or grow grain, unlike the West, where Tywin Lannister would gladly trade the lands of the Tarbecks for a Valyrian blade.
But I couldn't care less about their opinions. If I'd set my sights on richer, more fertile lands, I'd have chosen the North or the Valley, with their vast, untapped natural resources. But I didn't need to live in a cold, damp land where winters lasted for years... No thanks. For the same reason, the Stormlands and Riverlands weren't for me; their perpetual rains left me melancholy and apathetic.
And living under the wing of Tywin Lannister or the Queen of Thorns... I became a lord so I could build myself and my descendants a large and secure home where I could REST my soul and body in my old age. But living next to a bloodthirsty lion or a poisonous rose is something I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy.
During my days at the ancestral residence, the only person I spent more time with than Oberyn was Princess Elia. Possessing a distinctive Martell appearance—dark hair, black eyes, and olive skin—she was completely unlike her serpentine brothers in both behavior and personality. Born a month premature, the princess had never been particularly healthy, but she received an excellent education and was very quiet and calm. It was a pleasure to spend a few hours with her on the veranda, sipping mint tea and discussing the latest book.
Even her ladies-in-waiting didn't stop her, constantly giggling from the sidelines and never missing an opportunity to tease their mistress about spending too much time alone with an unmarried man. But life experience and wisdom, thank the gods, cannot be squandered—my ripostes sent most of the young noblewomen running from the veranda with flushed cheeks.
So I left Sunspear with credentials to show to the headman of that small fishing village and the Martell garrison in the valley, and a promise to write to Oberyn and Elia more often, sending letters by Volkan's eagle.
And now, looking at MY land, almost completely covered with yellow dry grass, standing on one of the many coastal rocks, under the bright and scorching Dornish sun, I understood that everything was not in vain.
Particularly pleasing to the eye was the flag rising above a nearby tent, bearing my house's coat of arms, commissioned and crafted by the masters of Sunspear. A scorching sun against a red background held within itself a beautiful purple flame, which, according to the legends of the Valyrians, Ghiscari, Itians, Andals, and many other peoples, was considered the hottest and rarest in the world. True, I screwed myself over here by choosing colors whose dyes were quite expensive, and the flag alone cost me almost ten golden dragons. But one doesn't skimp on such things.
I knew everything about my land. Even when Oberyn had first joined my team, I'd already been intrigued by the place. I'd sent men to scout it out and explain why such a strategically advantageous location was being neglected. I'd learned that the valley was shaped like a regular oval, with six small flanks and a harbor cutout to the east. I'd dispatched geologists and professional miners who'd practically licked every inch of the local soil, mapping out areas with high iron content in the rock and suitable marble quarries that had opened up in the area after the earthquake. I'd even dispatched a few farmers, who unanimously insisted that after one harvest, without water, the land wouldn't recover for another ten years.
"You fulfilled your promise," Joen said excitedly, approaching. Over the years, he had become my deputy and chief assistant in all matters. "In just four years, you became a lord and received a huge chunk of land. 630,000 acres... It's simply unbelievable."
"This is only the beginning, my friend," I said, smiling as I clapped the shoulder of the man who had already become not just a comrade but also a pillar of strength I would one day rely on. "We still have much to do—build castles, villages, plant gardens, invite artisans, train an army. There's still much work to do, and it will take decades. But it all begins now. How long will it take for the builders from Volantis and Myr to arrive?"
"Four or five days," Joen replied as we descended the path toward a nearby tent, where a table lay completely covered in papers. "We've already dispatched hired workers to the quarries, so there won't be any problems with materials."
"Remind me how much they asked for their work. We need to align it all with our budget," I said, bending over the scrolls of current projects I'd personally completed. First in importance were the aqueducts, which would solve the local lands' water shortage. This was a monumentally difficult project, requiring the personal oversight of an architect of Archmaester Valefar's caliber, and a gigantic outlay that not every lord could afford. This was precisely why the Ironwoods and Fowlers didn't even attempt to develop these lands (although I'm more inclined to believe they simply knew nothing of the aqueducts' existence). The second most important project was the shipyards—only one winding and dangerous road led from the valley through the mountains, making it impossible to transport goods. Then came the designs for the future castle, manufactories, fortresses, and villages.
"If you factor in all direct and associated costs, it's around twenty thousand dragons, if not more." Joen's answer was slightly muffled by the fact that he was once again immersed in the ledger, carefully reading each figure. "Of that, about fifteen hundred will go toward the piers, and the rest will go toward aqueducts and quarrying. By the way, why build piers out of stone? It would have been much faster and cheaper to use wood, without the hassle of design and labor."
"Joen, I'm building to last," I replied didactically, making a few adjustments to the dock plans that had arisen due to the harbor's peculiarities. "Wooden piers will quickly rot and have to be replaced. And that means more expense. Plus, these piers often have 'extensions' where trash and crap accumulate. Remind you of the stench of King's Landing or the New Town of Volantis." Seeing my friend's sour expression, I merely nodded. "Exactly. I don't know about you, but I don't want to live in a dump. Besides, we're short on trees, and the only way we'll run out of stone is if we dig up every mountain."
"Okay, okay. I understand, Felix. But we still need to hurry. If we follow your plans, we'll need to start digging the sewers as soon as the docks are built. Hoar will be back from the Menovo Coast in a month and a half, and we'll need a place to house all the new arrivals." Joen muttered, quickly jotting something down in his miniature notebook. "By the way, why did you decide to buy slaves on the Basilisk Islands and not somewhere else? And I always thought you disliked slavery."
"What makes you think I've decided to buy slaves?" At the redhead's puzzled look, I could only sigh. "Did you miss me again while you were eyeing another woman?"
Judging by the reddened ears, I hit the mark.
"Oh, your interactions with Oberyn have had a bad effect on you. There are two reasons why I sent Hoare there with three ships. First, new slaves don't stay long on the Basilisk Isles. They're immediately sold either to Slaver's Bay or the Free Cities. This means there are very few slaves there, people who've never seen anything but the brutal life of servants. They're much easier to work with. Second, there were the recent Dothraki raids on Lhazosh and slavers on Elyria. Those cities have always been renowned for their artisans, and now half of them are rotting in cages on the beaches of the Men's Coast. Now imagine what they'd do for a man who not only bought them from slavery but offered them well-paid work and shelter?"
"They will follow you. And they will be happy to work your lands," Joen said, slightly shocked, realizing the beauty of my idea. Although, in fact, the idea came from a remark my granddaughter made, saying that Daenerys only became popular because she freed the slaves. She did nothing else for them. I don't know where or when she freed them, but I remembered the remark and wrote it down in this world so I wouldn't forget. It came in handy. "Brilliant, Felix. We'll no longer need workers if we can establish..."
"Stop, stop." I interrupted the redhead, who had lost his train of thought. "I told you, that stunt only worked because of fortunate circumstances. We can't do it all the time—it's too expensive and creates unnecessary suspicion. Besides, Piper, Reek, and Jack will be arriving from Oldtown and Lannisport in six months. They've promised to bring about a thousand men. And don't forget about the Martells' help and Victarion's voyage to Y-Ti. We'll have plenty of men."
"Not for long," Joen cut me off sharply. "Your projects require a lot of 'dumb' labor. And all the new arrivals, according to you, will be artisans. You can't send them out to dig pits. We need at least two thousand simple peasants, and we have no place to find them or a way to transport them here."
His words made me think for a long time. Actually, Joen wasn't entirely right—there was a way, but I didn't like it one bit. I'd turned to that fat man for help too often, and he'd probably soon demand repayment.
And the worst part is, you can't buy him off with money. But there's no other way.
"I'll need to sail to Volantis," I said, throwing a light cloak over my body and leaving the tent, outside of which a drizzle, very rare for these parts, had already begun. "Can you manage without me?"
"Of course," the redhead replied with a slight smile, brushing a strand of hair that had fallen over his forehead. "Just don't be late and come back quickly. It'll be boring here without you."
"Of course, of course. As if you couldn't find adventure without me." With these words, I headed for the makeshift dock, where, in addition to the Beast King, there was a small, fast brig capable of whisking me to Volantis in just five days.
*
278 AD
House of Atrakes Belroy. Black walls. Volantis.
" Repeat, one more time ..." My teeth barely touched each other, and my hands were shaking like the most hopeless drunkard's. The words spoken just a few seconds ago had caused me too much shock.
" This is my eighth daughter, Eilis, " said the fat pig, mistakenly called Atrakes Belroy by humans, gesturing toward the girl who had often shared my bed and the bundle lying in her arms. " And your son, born a couple of months ago."
"Hee-e-e." The last words cut the short thread connecting me to reality, causing my vision to go blurry and me to lean against the nearest chair.
"We've arrived," I thought, trying to look anywhere but at the people present. "And it all started so well..."
*
4 hours ago. Volantis Harbor
I arrived in Volantis after just a week of comfortable travel on a light brig purchased in Sunspear. All thanks to Volkan, who had long been more knowledgeable about handling a ship, judging wind directions, and where a pirate ambush awaited us than some captains.
The Heiress of Valyria greeted me with the familiar hum and smell of a port, where goods from all over the world were being loaded and unloaded every second. Slaves scurried about, their status revealed by the tattoos on their cheeks and foreheads; free citizens strolled sedately, their expressions suggestive of "I'm D'Artonian, you're faggots"; and visitors, distinguishable from native Volantenes by the intensity of their tans, scurried about their business.
In this bustle of the port city, which had long since become habitual, I went to the house of the newly-minted triarch Belroy.
Almost six months ago, nearly the entire Levak clan, one of the most noble and respected aristocrats in Volantis (and also the "overlords" of Clan Belroi), burned to death in their residence. Almost all the blame was placed on R'hllor's fanatics, who decided that the Levaks were displeasing to the god of light and should be sent to heaven. A terrible religious scandal erupted, nearly escalating into a knife fight between R'hllor's followers and the rest of the aristocracy.
But considering how quickly Atraxes seized and took over all of his patron's assets, suspicions arise that he provoked those fanatics while remaining in the shadows. A local power broker.
So it's no surprise that the following year he was elected Triarch by the Elephant Party, and is now one of the most influential people in the city (if not the most influential). And he was forced to move from his brothel to a proper house within the Black Walls. Being a Triarch is a pleasant thing, but it also comes with its own set of conditions.
Half an hour's journey through tangled and crooked streets, accompanied by a boy guide, quickly brought me to these very walls.
The Black Wall itself was built by the Valyrians back when Volantis was their colony and fortress guarding the empire's borders. Over time, as the city grew and expanded beyond the wall, the area enclosed by it became a residence for the old nobility, where foreigners and freedmen could enter only by invitation from the locals. So it was that I had to wait for almost two hours in a specially designated reception area before being escorted, under the supervision of the Blackguard—the Volantis equivalent of the Unsullied, composed entirely of eunuchs with Valyrian blood—to one of the many mansions, the main residence of Clan Belroi.
(p. a reminder: italics – any dialect of Valyrian, bold – Dothraki)
" My dear friend! " Atraxes hadn't changed a bit over the years—the same blubbery figure with an incongruously handsome Valyrian face, always putting his interlocutors into a mild stupor. Only a few wrinkles at the corners of his perpetually smiling, yet cold, eyes, and a change in his attire to a more reserved style, indicated that this man was well into his forties. And his venerable age, by both accounts, didn't stop him from drinking himself into a pig's squeal every day, while simultaneously keeping his sixteen sons and the nest of vipers that is any Free City in check. He waited until I approached him and shook his soft, oily hand, then led me deeper into his estate. " I welcome you to my beautiful city."
" I'm honored, Lord Atraxes, that the triarch himself has come out to greet me ." I switched to the standard local style of communication—"flatter and brainwash your neighbor to the maximum."
" It's not difficult for me. " Sometimes it seemed to me that Belroy had lived with this mask of a smiling and kind aristocrat for so long that it had become a second persona, inseparable from his first and true personality—a vile, selfish, and unprincipled businessman, ready to do anything to achieve his goals. " My friend, you've come just in time. I was just planning dinner and looking for someone to keep me company. And the Gods of Valyria have taken pity on me. Come, my friend. You must try that Pentosshire cheese. In Pentos, they dry it in pepper right in the sun. In other cities, it's precious, but there they practically put it in wine."
So, talking about a variety of topics, starting with the weather and ending with a discussion on why melons should be eaten with a slice of ham and not horse meat, we reached the main dining room of this house, already prepared for dinner for two.
"Although what a lunch," I thought then. "There's food here for at least five people."
I was proven wrong then—Atraxes ate for four and drank just as much, yet remained just as sober. And the spicy cheese he'd been praising so much turned out to be truly spicy—I felt just a little short of breathing fire. A fiery piece.
We were only able to get down to business when they brought us a digestif, in the form of Balerion's, which I had long liked, and we sat down on two opposite sofas.
" And why do you, a newly minted lord from Dorne, need me, a mere lowly triarch? " Atraxes asked in a sleek voice, lounging and enjoying the cool breeze created by two fan-wielding slaves whose clothing left little to the imagination.
"I need a little help, Mister Atraxes, " I said, settling myself more comfortably, knowing this was going to be a long conversation.
- And what kind?
"The land I received when I became a lord hasn't been properly developed yet. It still needs a lot of investment."
" And you want me to help you? " Belcroy looked at me in surprise, even stopping his hand holding the grape right in front of his mouth. " You, the 'Bastard of Fortune,' the second Sea Serpent, one of the most successful and wealthy young merchants in Essos, with 480,000 gold dragons in various bank accounts?"
"You weren't supposed to know that," I thought, tensing up. "But apparently he doesn't know about the secret stashes. That's good."
" No, of course not. " I waved my hands dismissively. " The problem isn't the money, it's the people ."
— People?
" Yes. I have enough funds, specialists, and materials for the planned construction. But I lack workers for the simplest tasks ." I told the truth, knowing full well that I shouldn't hold back. He'd find out the truth in the future anyway, and it wouldn't reflect well on me.
- And how many people will you need?
" At least two thousand, by all accounts. Three thousand, preferably. On a permanent basis, with the resettlement of all their families and their becoming my subjects. " After clearing my throat, which had become a bit sore, I continued. " Lord Atraxes, in the environs of Volantis, Volon Theris, Valisar, and Selris, there are thousands of freedmen willing to escape poverty and try their luck elsewhere. But there's one problem. Transporting that many people would require at least two hundred ships."
" And who's the only one you know who owns that many ships? " Judging by Atraxes's satisfied expression, he'll squeeze as much money out of me as possible.
" It's you ," I finished, staring unblinkingly at my interlocutor, trying to detect any emotion or thought on his face that might help me in the negotiations. But as luck would have it, a friendly, impenetrable smile was frozen on Belroy's face like a porcelain mask.
" You've got me puzzled, Felax ," the Volantean finally said thoughtfully, as usual not noticing that he'd mangled my name in his own way. " Come to think of it, it's entirely possible. The costs will be high, yes, but not too high. I agree ."
" Thank you ." I was about to get excited, but quickly remembered that now came the most unpleasant part: the price.
- But on one condition.
"It's begun." The thoughts quickly flashed through my head.
- Which one ?
" You're marrying my daughter ." The words completely ruined my mood, leaving me in a slight stupor.
- What, excuse me?
" You will marry my daughter, " Atraxes repeated, sounding like he was mentally retarded, his piercing purple eyes never leaving my gaze.
" Master Atraxes, you're not serious, are you ?" But, not seeing a hint of humor on his face, I realized he was completely serious. " Why me? The Belroi are a pure-blooded Volantean family, very concerned about preserving the purity of Valyrian blood. Why didn't you marry her to one of the many aristocrats living within the walls? You're a triarch now, after all. Many families now want to breed with you..."
My monologue was interrupted by a raised hand and the triarch, who had become serious, no longer playing the role of a fat cretin and became himself - one of the rulers of the Free City of Volantis.
" Shut up and listen ," he said, sitting down comfortably on the sofa and folding his hands. " There are several reasons why I'm giving my daughter to you. First, she's only the eighth daughter born to a concubine, albeit a purebred one. This immediately rules out the possibility of marrying her off within the Black Walls. Second, there's you. A star of the trading world, who in four years, almost without my intervention, managed to amass a fortune only six times smaller than mine. And that's worth a lot. By marrying her to you, I ensure the preservation of my bloodline should it be destroyed."
" Destruction ?" I asked, puzzled. His clan was now at the pinnacle of Volantis' political life, its position stronger than ever.
" You can be forgiven for not knowing this, after all, this is all the inner workings of the city ." Atraxes sighed wearily, making it clear how tired he was of it all, and with a wave of his hand, shooing the two slaves out of the hall. " In recent years, the position of the Tiger Party and the clergy of R'hllor has grown steadily stronger. The former are increasing their influence thanks to our failures in the trade war with Braavos. The northern slaves are increasingly putting pressure on our merchants in northern Essos, preventing normal trade with Ibben and Sarnor. And negotiations with the new Sea Lord are not helping. The latter are exploiting the discontent of small landowners and slaves to increase their influence and drive other religions out of the city. Including the native Valyrian faith. This will continue for a very long time—perhaps ten, perhaps twenty, perhaps thirty years. But when this entire bubble of problems bursts, times worse than the worst crises of the Bloody Age will come, and I am not sure my family will be able to survive it." Your marriage to my daughter is one of the insurance policies.
Having finished his monologue, Belroy merely took a sip from the cup, lost so deeply in his thoughts that he seemed to have forgotten about me.
" And the third? " Finally, after a couple of minutes, I broke the silence.
"What? " My question finally brought the triarch back to earth and brought him back to the conversation. " Exactly. The third reason is simple—she liked you. And you liked her, too."
" Excuse me ?" I was a little taken aback by what he said. " But I've never met any of your children. How could I have seen her?"
" Oh, so you haven't figured it out yet ." Atraxes's nasty grin made me quickly start looking for a catch and recalling all the Valyrian-looking characters I'd met. Could it be... " Eilis, my dear, you may come in."
Literally a couple of seconds later, she entered through one of the many entrances, making my eyes almost the size of saucers.
— A-a-a repeat, one more time... — The surrealism of the picture made me even forget about politeness and addressed Atrakes informally.
" This is my eighth daughter, Eilis ," said the fat pig, mistakenly called Atrakes Belroy by the humans, gesturing toward the girl who had often shared my bed and the bundle lying in her arms. " And your son, born a couple of months ago."
"F*ck"!