Chapter 12: A Bond of Words

She walked through the rows of Unsullied that had stopped their march and stood still as statues. There was a cliff on the left side and a rocky hill on the right. The sea salt could be smelled with every breath and its waves crashing on the beach, a distant hymn. She walked to the front where something had caused her entire army to stop in their tracks.

Pale as death and hung up on the wooden post like some macabre decor. Her small hands hung and bound with a rope, pointing down the road. Her feet nailed to the wood to keep her still. Her once white tunic now grey with dirt, torn and shredded.

"There is one on every mile marker between here and Meereen." Ser Jorah informed her.

"How many miles are there?" Dany could barely restrain her rage.

"163, your grace." the bear answered.

"I'll tell our men to ride ahead and bury them. You don't need to see this, your grace." Ser Barriston suggested.

"You will do no such thing." she denied him, "I will see each and every one of their faces." she vowed, burning the features of her small face into her mind and the fire of vengeance in her heart.

She paused as the Red Magus walked up to the girl and put his hand to her foot, 'Even the great Magus cannot heal the dead.' she thought.

"It's stiff," she heard him comment softly. Dany didn't understand why he had said it but before she could ask, he called out, "Ifter!"

One of the freemen ran to the front and kneeled, his hands placed on his knees, palms-side up, "What is your bidding Lord Magus?" he bowed his head low. He was one of the slaves she had freed in Astapor, a soldier but not a eunuch like the Unsullied but a mounted lancer that was one of the first to strike down the masters when she commanded. He wore brown leather armor and had a short sword at his waist. His skin was copper, like Missandei's but his eyes were brown instead of her gold.

Dany found his posture display repulsive, 'they are not slaves yet they still act like it.'

"They are no more than a day away." Magus turned to face the kneeling man, "Get a dozen men, run them down!" Dany saw in his eyes that same fury as when someone compared him to a meagi or a warlock. It was a rare thing for the smile to fade from his face and for some reason, it disturbed him more than the ever-present smile did.

"Your will be done, Lord Magus!" The man bowed lower, his head nearly touching the earth before he got up and left in a hurry.

After one last glance at the dead girl, the Magus simply turned and left towards the center of the group, where he always stayed. Dany too turned back after giving instructions to give the girl a proper burial.

"So the Magus is giving commands now?" Ser Jorah complained as he always did whenever he saw another man's shadow close to her.

"He gave command to a freeman, not the Unsullied or the Stormcrows." Ser Barriston corrected.

"The freemen followed their queen. The one who freed them from their masters, not the Magus." Ser Jorah continued.

"I didn't free them so I could command them, I freed them because it was the right thing to do. They are free to serve whoever they choose." She dismissed his notions. It was true that she didn't free them to be revered but the freemen called her "Mother" and when they willingly followed her, she could not say no even though her advisors told her to do otherwise. This didn't mean that it didn't hurt her feelings when they knelt before the Magus. In her eyes, it was no different from trading one master for another.

"It doesn't change the fact that his followers among the freemen are no less than yours, Khaleesi." Ser Jorah usually quit after being told to but seemed more unrelenting this time, "Yours call you Mother and raise their hands to touch you but his kneel before him in worship, as if he were a god."

"From what he did in Yunkai, he might as well be." Dario chimed in. It was an unnatural display of power, the likes of which the world had never seen before and something they were not likely to forget anytime soon.

She stopped and others stopped with her, "Speak plainly, Ser Jorah. What troubles you?"

"What troubles me is why would he just appear in the Red Waste right when our people were dying? I refuse to believe it to be a coincidence." His voice was accusatory and low so no one else could hear but the people around them, "He says he was chased by the Dothraki, yet he outran them on horseback instead of simply flying away?" he bared his suspicions. Magus was a skilled horse rider but in front of the dothraki, he might as well be a novice.

Dany looked from Jorah to Barriston to Grey Worm to Dario, they all shared the same look now. If you could fly, why would you fear any army? Not even the dothraki horde could catch him. Even if he was true and he really did escape from the dothraki, why did he not escape the red waste instead of nearly dying of thirst? It was simply too much of a coincidence for a powerful magic user like him to find her and her dragons when they were at their weakest.

"I believe Ser Jorah's words hold true your grace." Ser Barriston agreed, "Why would a man like that help you without ever demanding anything in return?"

Dany fell into a deep thought before she finally made her decision and commanded, "Ask Lord Magus to join me for dinner." the men nodded, their thoughts in sync, 'It's time to know what the Magus wants in return for his aid.'

The night fell and camps were set up, the men Jafaar had sent out to capture the culprits of the crucifixions had not yet returned. They had found a relatively defensible place to make camp, due to the large number of people, it had to be near a clean water source and large enough to house the 10,000 Unsullied, the 3000 Stormcrows and more than 70,000 freemen.

Dany's gold tent was situated in the middle, surrounded by the Unsullied. Jafaar's big red tent was further from the centre and closer to the freemen.

Dany's invitation for dinner had been accepted and now she waited after sundown in her tent. Before her, on a large table, a wide assortment of dishes and fruits were presented along with wines and drinks of sweet fruits. There was chicken roast, pork sausages and lamb stew; in this wilderness, this was a feast fit for a king.

There were only two chairs, her's and an empty one on the opposite end of the table. Behind her stood Jorah and Barriston, Missandei had been told to withdraw while Grey Worm was posted outside along with a higher than usual concentration of Unsullied that stayed some distance away from the tent itself to avoid suspicion but ready to respond at a moment's notice. Dany had tried to reject this arrangement; she did not think of the Magus as an enemy, but was worn down by the uniformed opposition.

Dany took a deep sigh, trying to breath away the anxiety. She didn't feel this way even when she commanded her armies and took over cities or when she stepped into a great fire, one she knew would consume her. But for some reason, she simply couldn't seem to calm her drumming heart.

"Your Grace, Lord Magus has arrived." one of the guards reported.

"Show him in." she straightened up, 'A queen must be strong.' she reminded herself. There was no proof that the Magus was an enemy and she wanted to make sure that it stayed that way. Treating him with hostility would only invite hostility in return.

Jafaar entered the tent in his royal attire, more noble and expensive than any of her own outfits and no less than the ones she had seen the nobles of Qarths wear. "Dany! So happy to finally have this talk with you." he smiled sweetly as he took his seat without being told to.

She looked behind him, 'Did he leave her behind?' she wondered about the absence of her former maid. But before her mind could form any further thoughts her mind paused, "Talk? I simply wanted to invite you for dinner. As a token of gratitude for your continuous aid to me and the freemen." She tried to dodge the issue but her heart seemed to speed.

Jafaar simply poured a glass of sweet fruit juice and drank a mouthful while chuckling, "Come now, you insult yourself and the people around you. I was starting to think we would never have this little "talk"." he picked up his fork and knife and cut off a large piece of chicken roast, "Please, eat. Or else it will be awkward if I am the only one eating, this is dinner after all." he reminded her.

She felt the men behind her tense, 'Of course he knows… he always knows.' she smiled. For some reason, she felt a sense of comfort at the thought that there was nothing she could hide from the man before her, so she simply stopped trying. She picked up her fork and dropped a sausage on her plate, "Since you already know, could you tell us?"

"There is nothing to tell." He smiled, "You know exactly what I want, I have your bond don't I?" he reminded her.

After a short confusion she remembered a previous conversation, a conversation where she had promised three times the rewards for any help she received. "Is it that simple?" She was skeptical. This was an offer she made before she knew of the true extent of the man's abilities, 'No,' she thought, 'I still don't know the true extent of his abilities.'

"It is truly that simple," he nodded. "You see, our words are indeed our bonds, and when you give those words to a magical being, those words become magical bonds."

"What do you mean?"

"It means, neither you nor I can betray our bonds." he assured her.

"And what happens if someone breaks their bond?" she asked in apprehension. She had already experienced the curse of magic once, she didn't wish for a repeat.

"You lose what was given. But you don't have to worry, what I have given you is negligible. Regardless of what you may have gained from it, what I have spent on you is worth nothing to me." he waved his hand in dismissal. He poured some lamb stew into his bowl before continuing, "Go ahead. I am sure you have many more questions."

She hesitated but continued nonetheless, "The Red Waste… Why were you there?"

"I really was chased by the dothraki… it was… unpleasant but otherwise, I was following the red comet. Call it a… magical instinct. I felt its draw and it led me to you." he explained.

She nodded, "Then why didn't you fly away when you were dying of thirst? It would have been faster."

"Why do you walk when you can run?" he asked in a matter of fact tone.

"Because it's exhausting." she nodded in comprehension.

"I am perhaps one the most powerful beings in the known world but… even my powers are not infinite."

She nodded and glanced back at her advisors, they seemed satisfied… for now. "I still wish to know…" she asked the last question, "why are you helping me?"

Jafaar smiled, "Call it a kind citizen's concern. I wish for Westeros to prosper. I know Jorah is bothered so I will give you my word… my bond. That is a far better assurance than any other." he smiled at Jorah before turning back to her, "I will help you take the Iron throne, I will not meddle in how you rule it, I care not. But…" he paused, "only so long as it prospers." he turned his eyes onto her's. She shivered, she could feel his eyes inside her head, peering into her soul as he asked the question she knew would determine her fate, "Can you make Westeros prosper?"

She felt as if she were before a judge, a single word of 'Yes' or 'No' would result in a judgement she could not turn, a judgement that would decide the course of her life.

She gathered her courage, 'I am a Dragon.' she reminded herself but then the memory of his flight came up and her courage faltered, still she persisted, "Yes."

She saw him smile and raise his glass towards her, "Then, All Hail The Queen."