The wheel spins as men live and die, leaving behind ashes that become history. Kings, armies, civilizations and empires, all left in the dust of the distant past that shall soon become legend. The wheel spins tales, and the wheel spins lives, glory and misery alike lost in the stories of untold millions.

For some, the wheel is alive, an adventure to be told, a quest to be completed. For some others, it is dead. A tale told a thousand times. For most, it is the headsman that comes in the night. The cold that comes in winter. It is the burning of fires as armies march to war. A thousand faces, a thousand names, and yet the story is ever the same. One lord, one king, who declares wars that the innocent must fight.

Amidst these endless wars, one stands above all others. Unchanging, eternal as the night sky. Its call for arms goes unheard as the lord crushes justice and calls it revolt. It’s dead rot unburied as corpses pile in the winter. And it’s instigators reign free, unopposed, an iron boot ever stamped on the human face, forever.

Ethan Ming saw it now, in the dark corners of Meereen no queen will ever see. Children were dying.

In times of peace, men hailed king Robert and queen Cersei. Emperor Caesar and Tzar Alexander. But these were times of trouble, and the poor only recognized king gold and queen bread. Ethan didn’t suppose he could blame them. The Breaker of Chains was an inspiration, a rallying cry, a living saint to be venerated and worshiped in a palace of gold far from them. And as with all holy and worthwhile things, she was above the petty concerns of real men.

Hungry eyes blinked as he walked by. Feet tensed in the thin layer of sludge that the slums were so famous for. Faces stared sightlessly at him. Starving faces. The slaves had been fed, before. But that was when slavery was legal, and lives were worth a sum of gold. Now it was not, and lives were worth no more than the sludge they stood in.

Was it possible to be freed into slavery? It seemed moronic, a trick of words. But as Ethan saw the slums, he was no longer so sure. They were free from cruel masters, maybe. But just as much a slave to food as any other.

He felt his hands ball into fists as he thought of it. To think that people still lived like this, after being freed. Countless images leaped to mind. Rich men, noble men, all dancing in the pyramids with their fine wines and whores, laying their purses with gold while these children pinched coppers.

The children flinched away. Reacting to anger, no doubt. Some began slinking away, eyes on the sludged grounds. Ethan did not take long to calm down. He held up a silver coin. “Do any of you speak the common tongue?” He asked, lowering his voice. Softer, clearer. The same voice he would’ve taken with toddlers, if he ever had to speak with any.

A few paused. Mystified stares looked back at him. Some eyed the silver greedily. But between the glowing silver and the glowering unsullied, none dared step forwards. Ethan sighed. His coin returned to his pockets. Charity did more harm than good, he knew. In good times, silver was something gangs would be jealous for. In bad times, it was something they’d kill you for.

“Quite a life they have here, would you believe it? Behold freedom in all its glory.” Laughing took some effort.

The unsullied nodded. “No whip. No work. They do… well.” His pleasure seemed genuine.

“No jobs either, as I’m sure you can tell. Now, what is it that they shall eat? Freedom tastes good, I’m sure, but it doesn’t keep hunger away.”

“They not die.”

“Not yet.” Ethan frowned. “But if this goes on they probably will.”

The unsullied shrugged. “Many mouth. Little food. Too many. Not enough.”

He smiled a pained smile. “I know.” And he meant it. He had come here with a basket of bread. The bread was now gone, and the basket too. With it, a good part of his conscience. He wanted to give out the silver. Then he saw three men killed for a copper, and decided against it. Probably for the better.

“Give them the offer, just like the others.”

“They children.”

“They children are hard to notice. Perfect for the job.” He saw the unsullied frown, but he nodded.

Ethan watched as their eyes lit up. One of them went forwards, asking something.

“They ask how much.”

“Copper for information that helps save a man, silver for information that does. Extra, depending on who they got and what they contributed. I’ll be the judge of it, and I’ll be generous. For information related to the harpies, triple those. If they ever catch a harpy, I’ll make sure they’ll never have to worry about food again for the rest of their life. And of course, if they do work for me, safety is guaranteed.” The unsullied said as much.

Eager nods from the children. Ethan smiled. “That’s all. Give them my best wishes.”

They were not idle for long. As they left, he caught the glint of something shining in their eyes. Something that looked suspiciously like hope.

“Will not be cheap.” The unsullied said.

“Pocket change for the mother of dragons. I’m sure she’ll be more than willing to pay. But ideally, it’ll be the harpies paying for us.”

The unsullied tilted his head at him. Ethan found his smile met with a frown.

“Harpy pay for own head?” The stare was flat.

“Why, yes, of course.”

“You mad.” The unsullied decided.

Ethan smiled. “About that…”

***

“Yeifan Ming, of the distant far east beyond Yi Ti.”

“Zolors Dhazak, of Meereen.” The man spoke with an accented common.

Ethan waved a hand, and he saw the unsullied bow stiffly, silver tray in hand. It was still hard to get used to his look. With a black spike and clear, marked armor, unsullied stuck out in a crowd like a sore thumb. Here, in the robes of a Yi Ti eunuch, Stone looked like a completely different person. Had his skin color been a shade lighter, he may have passed for a proper eunuch himself.

He lifted the soft silks, and took out a small, blue goblet. “Might I offer you some tea, good master?”

The man smiled. “You are kind.” He took up a goblet himself, studying it. “Fine wares you bring.”

“The best in Yi Ti.” Ethan said, waving his hands. “The best that can be brought, anyways. Fine china, by the artisans of the emperor. For him, they give only the very best. The rest are open to any man with some luck and some more gold.” Ethan smiled. “Consider this a gift.”

“A fine present.”

A fine trick, actually. Ethan had snatched it off a hawker selling obviously counterfeit goods, and haggled until the man was near tears. But by the looks of things Lord Dhazak had no experience with such trickery, and Ethan had managed to win himself a smile with it. So he didn’t suppose he had any cause for complaining.

“So.” He said, taking a sip. “What brings a man of the far east to humble Meereen?”

“Wares and trade, of course. Though I must confess I lost the former and have little for the latter. Shipwrecks happen constantly, I’m sure you know.”

“Of course.” He said, eyes shifting now. “I am sorry.” His tone became just a shade more unpleasant.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

“But business must go on, of course. The stock traders of Yi Ti understand that. I am wrecked, and penniless, it may appear. But I am still something of a wealthy man.”

“Oh?” The master’s eyes lit up slightly.

“In my home we have developed a system of sorts. It is known as a stock market. Men modest and rich pool their gold into voyages, and each claim a share if it returns and a loss if it sinks. Then there is the insurance. A price we pay to not lose it all. For a modest cut of the profits, they make a deal. We shall be given recompense, should the ship sink. My fleet has sunk, but my wealth shall remain. I need only a pen to write a letter.”

The master’s tone changed again. Ethan saw his eyes light up with greed. “The wisdom of your countrymen humble us. We of Meereen do not think of such things.”

Ethan gave a pleasant nod. “You are too generous. Much is said in Yi Ti about the wisdom of the masters in Meereen. Good, honorable men with excellent wares.” He had some practice, but the honorable part was challenging. “Why, your olives are a delicacy nobles smile for.”

His smile widened as he saw the master lean back. His expression became guarded. A sly man, sensing an opportunity. He knew that look. The look of a fish taking the bait.

“I know many traders, and with proof of my identity I can arrange a ship back to Yi Ti, where I may reclaim my losses. Yi Ti is a rich land, even the nearest port will have your ships return with several times the wealth you invested. Should I have shares purchased of this second fleet, why, the profits would be even greater for the both of us. I need only two things.”

“Oh?” The master asked, casually. Too casually. “Please do tell?”

“First, gold. It would be quite the embarrassment, of course, if I were to return to my home empty handed. But what if I were to return and say, my ship may be wrecked, but behold, I have gold and cargo still. Men will have greater confidence in me, and such reputation is as precious as any silk. I am sure you understand.”

“Yes.” The master said, licking his lips. “Of course. Her radiance taxes us hard, but some change may be found. Several thousand golds, certainly.”

“Second, a supply of certain… goods. You must understand the pride of my countrymen. There are certain goods that one cannot buy. Goods only a master can provide. Do you grasp my meaning?”

He saw the master’s eyes shift. “I hope.” He said slowly. “That this a trade that has not been outlawed? Dealing in it would bring attention better left away.”

Ethan laughed. “Oh, no. I am only speaking of a certain good, do you follow? Nothing specific. A good, that is all.”

The master smiled. “I do.”

“There are many men in Yi Ti. Strong, powerful. One may say… beyond the attentions of most law enforcers. They very much desire exotic goods.”

The master tapped at his cheek. “Young and pretty, perhaps? I would use some connections I have in Yunkai. Although I fear…”

He waved it off. “Oh, please. Times change. Plans must be made. I am only speaking in possibilities, do you understand me?”

“Yes, of course. Possibilities.” The slaver agreed.

“So, regarding gold, and regarding the goods.”

“I am sure I can find many willing to fund your voyage.” He said. “And goods shall be found, if our radiance may be convinced.”

Ethan frowned now. “How long do you suppose it would take for her to be convinced?”

“Not very long.” The master said. He waved a hand, and a servant came, flinching. He showed him an envelope of sorts. “Come, we may make it faster together. Meereenese too, deal in possibilities.”

Ethan smiled. All this time fishing, and the poor fish didn’t even realize he was caught. “I will look into it.”

***

“So, Stone. What have you learned?”

“You are liar. Very good liar.”

Ethan laughed. “Have you ever heard of the word, efficiency, Stone?”

He stared at him with a stony gaze. Ethan shifted slightly, but didn’t flinch. “It means to do something well with less time, effort, and resources. Less work. Do you understand me?”

“Laziness.”

“Close.” He conceded. “But it often leaves the job half done. Efficiency, you see, is more responsible. An unsullied, for example, would not stab a man in the hand three hundred times when one hit to the neck shall do. If you wish to kill a man, you will find the quickest way. That is efficiency. It means not wasting time, and not wasting energy. Do you understand?”

He saw Stone frown.

“Now, let’s go over what we got from this. First off, I know how much funds the nobles and masters should have access to. The man here promised several thousand golds without much eye batting. He’s rich, and obviously so. A fat plum that can stand a good amount of squeezing.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why need this.”

“Why? Fines, of course. If we know how much they have we know how much the Breaker of Chains can take to break more chains. And by the sound of it we can take a whole lot more. We’d also know other things. How much goods they can buy, how much swords, how much power. All important things a queen should be aware of, and I’m getting it over a casual conversation.”

He could almost hear Stone’s brain turning.

“Then, of course, we have the more important part. The information on the slaves. The masters are completely willing to deal with them again, if it were legal. They may even be willing to deal with them even if it isn’t legal.”

Stone blinked. “When say?”

“Implied, not said. Now, he mentioned he’d need to convince her radiance to make it legal to hold slaves again. What do you imagine he means by that?”

“Words.”

“Are wind.” Ethan said. “Do you really think she’ll allow it?”

Stone set his jaw. “No.”

“What else may they do then, if not sweet, reasonable words? Threats, perhaps?”

He saw realization dawn on his face. In moments, Ethan could feel fury emanating from the Unsullied. He caught his arm. “No, no. Let’s not kill him yet, shall we?” He said patiently. “We can learn more from him. He hasn’t told us who else might want to threaten the queen. If you kill him now, we’ll never find out, won’t we? If he can do it, seven knows how many more might.”

Stone thought of it some more. “You right.” Grudgingly.

Ethan smiled. Some people said dumb people made bad team mates. They weren’t wrong. But they sure were easier to lead around.

“Let’s go, shall we? Can’t miss a meeting with the queen.” He turned around and began walking.

“Why?”

“Because she’s the queen, of course! It’s bad manners being late, don’t you know? Never mind not showing up.”

“Why do this?” Stone asked, more amazed than curious. “Why you? Why help her?”

Ethan stopped. He turned to face him. “This may sound strange, but I believe in doing the right thing. And when I see something completely, terribly wrong, I must try my best to make things right. Just look at the slums, the slaver’s manor. Each was terrible for different reasons. I want to help the queen because she shares my goal of making things better. And most of all, I just want to be a good man. Do you understand?”

“Good men…” Stone groped for words. “Different from you.”

“I think I get what you mean. Probably. We have names for those people, back home. Straight shooters, goody two shoes. Idealists. Useless idiots.” He looked at his hands. “Maybe there is a place where doing good feels good, in a whole different world. But this one isn’t it.”

He sighed. “Have you ever read stories, Stone? Children’s stories? No? Can’t read? Parents, then? They read you anything? Tell you anything?” Ethan found himself flinching at his sudden glare. “You don’t have parents.” He realized.

“I was born in Astapor.” An answer enough, by itself.

“I am sorry.”

“Why? They dead. Not you. Slavers.”

“For your loss.”

Stone held his stare for a moment before looking away. “They die. Long ago. Don’t remember…” His voice turned into a croak, and then fell away. The silence stretched on.

“Well, then, let me tell you a bit about stories, Stone.” He said after some time. “Stories… they’re simple, beautiful things. We have ourselves a hero, and a villain, and all the pretty and ugly things heroes have to deal with. The hero isn’t a perfect man, not always, but he’s kind or honest or whatever else it is that people like to see in themselves. So he walks around, kills a few evil men, and in the end, when push comes to shove and it’s all on the line. He pulls through. The good guys always win.”

“But then… that’s not always true, is it? Real life is real life. Things happen, and people are people. Greedy, corrupt, angry, scared. They make bad decisions, and the world becomes a bad place. Slowly, then quicker and quicker until you’re living in a nightmare come to life. Heroes don’t always win, Stone. They rarely do. Sometimes it takes sacrifices to do good, Stone. Do you understand?”

The unsullied closed his eyes. “No.”

“No?”

“You wrong. Good win. Always.”

“Really? And where was good winning, when you were a slave?”

“Queen. Freed us. Takes time. But good wins. Always. Always.” He repeated it like a prayer. When Stone opened his eyes again, they were shining.

Looking at the man’s childlike wonder, Ethan couldn’t help but smile. “I suppose it does.”

He looked up at the clouds now, eyes looking at something far away. “You’ll have to trust me on this though. I would know. I’ve seen it. Sometimes, just wanting to do good isn’t enough.”

The unsullied didn’t seem to hear.