Chapter 130: Recruiting Jon Snow as a Follower

Although Jon intended to negotiate with Daenerys, he didn't fortify his camp like the Second Sons, nor did he place his army on high alert.

On the contrary, the gates of the Rose Company's camp stood wide open, and most of the mercenaries... well, they were still sprawled out in their tents, snoring away.

"Your Majesty, your Wall Red is truly potent. I'm still a bit dizzy, and most of my men are battling hangovers," Jon said with a wry smile to Daenerys, who sat atop her warhorse.

"How could it bear the name 'Wall' if it weren't strong enough?" Daenerys replied matter-of-factly.

Potent indeed. That liquor was never meant for casual drinking.

It was high-proof alcohol, strong enough for disinfection, mixed with grape juice and a hefty dose of sugar. Even those unaccustomed to drinking could down a large cup easily, but the aftereffects were not for the faint-hearted.

Speaking of this "Wall Red," one couldn't help but reflect on the "poverty" of Slaver's Bay's resources.

Before Daenerys arrived, Slaver's Bay boasted five main exports: slaves, olives, copper, beets, and sour grapes. Apart from olive oil and slaves, there was little of value for trade.

The grapes in Slaver's Bay weren't suited for winemaking—even the plantation owners wouldn't drink the wine produced. It had an inexplicable astringency despite the grapes being large and sweet.

After her arrival, Daenerys implemented three key economic reforms in Astapor: first, producing high-concentration alcohol for both medical use and as a specialty "wine"—essentially, grape juice mixed with spirits; second, manufacturing sugar from beets; third, funding craftsmen to establish over a dozen bronze workshops, creating an industrial chain from "copper mines to ingots to exquisite bronzeware."

But that was beside the point. Currently, Astapor was blockaded by the Ghiscari, cutting off both sea and land routes, leaving even the finest goods unsellable.

"Your Majesty, what are your intentions regarding the Rose Company?" Jon asked seriously.

Daenerys lightly tapped her gauntlet against her saddle, ignoring his question and instead smiling, "Now you understand why, three hundred years ago, Torrhen Stark surrendered so readily to Aegon?"

Jon gave a bitter smile and sighed, "Our ancestors misjudged the 'King Who Knelt.' He was wise and made the best choice for the North.

With just three young dragons, you swept through the Ghiscari alliance with minimal losses. Back then, King Torrhen had even fewer men.

And His Majesty Aegon commanded an even mightier army and fully grown dragons, rendering mortal armies almost powerless."

"So, as descendants of self-exiled Northern nobles, have you come to terms with the past?" Daenerys pressed.

"You know we're of noble descent?" Jon replied, his expression complex.

"Heh, don't forget, I'm from Westeros too," Daenerys said gently in the Common Tongue. "Your three companions: Lyla Umber, Bruce Wayne, and Herman Tallhart.

I'm a bit unsure about Wayne, but Umber from Last Hearth and Tallhart from Torrhen's Square—did I guess right?"

"Your Majesty has keen insight. Wayne's ancestors served as knights under Winterfell, without lands of their own. After parting from the Starks, their title naturally faded."

"I see," Daenerys nodded.

This world valued lineage highly. Social classes were rigid. Even among mercenaries, it was often noble-born individuals who rose to prominence.

They inherited swordsmanship, battle tactics, knowledge, etiquette, and ambition, making them more resilient and more likely to attain high positions. Others, under equal conditions, tended to respect noble bloodlines more.

"Your surname is Snow. Common folk rarely have the luxury of extramarital affairs, let alone fathering bastards," Daenerys continued.

In Westeros, bastards were akin to modern society's "secret families"—a privilege of the elite.

"Who was your father?" she asked, curious.

Jon Snow gave a bitter smile and shook his head, sighing, "Probably a sellsword from Braavos. My mother never knew for sure."

"Oh."

"My mother was a Bolton."

"A Bolton? As in, the flayers from the Dreadfort?" Daenerys was stunned.

"Yes."

Jon quickly added, "Your Majesty, I don't flay people. In fact, after the Boltons came to Essos, they abandoned that barbaric practice. Too bloody, too savage—it would repel clients and tarnish the Rose Company's reputation."

"Are you aware of the current situation in the North?" Daenerys asked.

"I've kept informed. I hear Robb Stark has led the Northern lords south to the Riverlands, fighting for the Iron Throne."

"He has no interest in the Iron Throne. His main goal is avenging his father."

"How can you be certain he's not after the throne? Forgive me, Your Majesty, but fifteen years ago, Robert Baratheon also claimed to be avenging his family, yet he ended up sitting on the Iron Throne," Jon said with a cold smile.

"What are your plans for the future?" Daenerys shifted the topic, probing, "The Seven Kingdoms are in chaos, with four kings vying for power. You could join one of them, perhaps even restore your ancestral glory."

"Well," Jon hesitated, then admitted, "Your Majesty, do you intend to reclaim the Iron Throne? Honestly, our ancestors exiled themselves. The family titles remain, and we hold no grudges against our kin."

"Alright, I'll be direct," Daenerys said bluntly. "I believe the Rose Company, with its honor and discipline, is worthy of pledging loyalty to me. For now, my goal is to conquer Slaver's Bay and dismantle the slave trade. As for the future, even I am uncertain."

"Thank you for your praise, Your Majesty. We've merely held to our last shred of integrity."

"Then, Jon Snow, will you and your Rose Company swear allegiance to me? You can continue as sellswords, fighting for coin, or join me in a meaningful, righteous cause—liberating slaves. What will you choose?" Daenerys asked.

"Your Majesty, you are making an enemy of the world," Jon's eyes flickered as he responded.

"The world has been ruled by dragon kings for five thousand years," Dany replied.

"You only have three young dragons."

"My enemies are mere trash. Young dragons are enough."

"...," said Jon Snow, the bearded warrior.

Are my Rose Company and I also trash?

His face flushed red, and he wanted to refute her. But the harsh reality was that his five thousand elite mercenaries had been effortlessly swept away by the queen before him.

"The slave masters of Qarth and Meereen possess vast amounts of wealth—enough to hire every mercenary company in the world. When that time comes, they will learn from today's defeat. At the very least, countless scorpion ballistae will be hidden within their camps," the bearded Jon proposed a strategy against dragons.

Dany chuckled, her laughter as crisp as a bell.

"Captain Jon, do you really think those slave masters will have another chance to form an allied army? Do you think dragons can only breathe fire?"

"Let me ask you: one side fights for money, while the other fights for their own lives and those of their families. The second side has superior numbers and knows all of their enemy's strategies and camp defenses, while the first side knows nothing about them. Who do you think will win?"

"This..." Jon was momentarily stunned.

"Today's ambush was not an exception. From now on, every battle I fight against the Ghiscari Alliance will be the same—total intelligence asymmetry.

Go back and discuss this with your companions.

I won't force you. If you refuse, you only need to pay the traditional ransom and swear never to stand against me again."

With that, Dany turned her horse, preparing to return to Poplar Ridge.

"Wait," Jon called out, his expression serious. "Your Majesty, please tell me—how do you plan to use the Rose Company?"

Dany reined in her horse and turned back.

"I will expand the Mother of Dragons Guard. Both cavalry and infantry will grow several times over. The soldiers will be selected from the slave army. If you swear loyalty to me, I will dissolve the Rose Company and integrate its members as officers in the new army."

Not every mercenary was as loyal as Jorah Mormont, but leading a ten- or hundred-man unit was certainly within their capability.

The Rose Company had 800 core members. Even if each one were promoted only to the rank of ten-man captain, that would immediately give Dany 8,000 trained soldiers.

Even if slave soldiers were of low quality, they were still superior to Westerosi peasant levies armed with pitchforks and sickles.

Why not simply promote the officers from the existing Mother of Dragons Guard to form a new army? That would ensure greater loyalty, wouldn't it?

The problem lay in the fact that the Mother of Dragons Guard had all been former slaves. Too few had received proper military training, and even the current officers were hardly qualified.

Take Dany's cavalry commander, Scarback Simon, for example. Whitebeard had chosen him for only two reasons: he had a loud voice and a politically reliable background.

In other words, he was a former slave who harbored deep hatred for the slave masters and held an almost fanatical devotion to Dany.

But when it came to actual military tactics, he was completely incompetent. His horsemanship was even worse than that of Dany's handmaid, Irri.

If the Ghiscari Alliance didn't launch an attack first, she would have let Jorah and Barristan train them for another year or two.

But Jon had a point—the slave masters were wealthy enough to hire mercenaries and assassins from all over the world.

She had to strike while Qarth and Meereen were still weak from their defeat. She had to lead her army north and conquer both cities within three months.

After all, it typically took mercenaries from the western coastal trading cities anywhere from two months to half a year to reach Meereen.

"Your Majesty, Jon Snow is willing to pledge loyalty to you," the bearded commander strode forward, knelt on one knee before Dany, and solemnly declared.

"Oh? What about your men?" Dany caught the underlying meaning in his words and smiled.

"The Rose Company is hereby disbanded under my command. Each member is free to choose their own path. They may stay and serve you, but they are no longer bound to me as their leader.

If they choose to leave, I will surrender the Winter Rose banner, and they may reestablish the Rose Company on their own," Jon Snow declared loudly.

A clever man!

Dany dismounted, drew the longsword from her waist, and rested the tip lightly on the bearded commander's shoulder.

"Do you still remember how to swear allegiance to a sovereign?"

"Roughly..." Jon Snow felt a mix of excitement and trepidation at how seriously Dany regarded his pledge. A sense of sacred ritual rose within him.

I swear, I will never betray the one who grants me this honor!

His face flushed as he made his decision.

"Do you still follow the Old Gods, or have you chosen another faith?" Dany asked solemnly.

After a brief hesitation, he gritted his teeth and said, "I should worship the Old Gods, but there are no weirwood trees in Essos. I could follow the Red God, R'hllor, the most widespread faith here, but I still consider myself a Westerosi. So, Your Majesty, I swear by the Seven!"

"Very well. I, too, believe in the Seven," Dany said with a smile.

She wasn't lying. As a ruler, she needed a faith. A leader without belief was even less respected than a fallen one.

She couldn't exactly tell people she worshiped Buddha or the Three Pure Ones, could she?

Well... not that it mattered. In the modern world, she hadn't believed in Buddha or the Three Pure Ones either.

The Seven: the Father (justice), the Mother (love and nurture), the Warrior (courage and victory), the Maiden (innocence and purity), the Smith (craftsmanship and labor), the Crone (wisdom), and the Stranger (death and the unknown).

The Faith of the Seven had no actual deities. The Seven simply represented different phases of life and seven noble virtues—not much different from modern moral doctrines.

Dany considered it the most progressive faith in this world, so she had no problem embracing it.

(End of Chapter)

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