Westeros Fort is located on the Vaesyris Hills, adjacent to the Upper Rhoyne River, and since the Velvet Hills are at a higher latitude than King's Landing, the climate is naturally cooler and more pleasant than King's Landing.
During the long summer, living in a fort on such hills is also very comfortable, certainly better than that dung heap King's Landing.
The windows of the council chamber were open, bringing in a cool breeze, which carried the scent of the Rhoyne River and the fresh green fields of the Velvet Hills.
Everyone enjoyed the breeze, but anger was igniting.
Viserys Targaryen, seated at the head, watched the Andal elders as they fell into argument.
"Tyroshi, these bastards." Upon hearing the term Tyrosh, the faces of all the Andal elders twisted with anger.
Besides anger, there was, of course, some fear.
"They often capture slaves, and our villages are occasionally attacked."
"That's right, your majesty the king. After they capture our people and the Rhoynar, they sell them to pleasure gardens, workshops, or shipyards..."
The Tyroshi had committed many sins, causing the Andals to utterly detest them.
Viserys knew the Tyroshi were boisterous, flamboyant, and greedy.
Mercenaries, slaves, and pleasure gardens were very common in Tyrosh; as long as the price was right, the Tyroshi could provide the corresponding services.
Tyroshi slavers were very aggressive; to capture slaves, they even sailed north, past the Wall, to enslave wildlings.
And the Andals and Rhoynar, the Tyroshi slavers certainly hadn't spared them either.
Viserys watched the reactions of the elders, observing the changes in their expressions, which were spot on.
Although Lys and Myr also bought slaves, their methods were not as ugly as Tyrosh's.
Where there is oppression, there is resistance.
So, after the Andals' fury was suppressed to its limit, who else but Viserys could ignite it?
Their goals were ultimately aligned: Viserys wanted to restore his kingdom, and the Andals wanted to reverse their fate of being bullied and trampled.
"Are the villages you mentioned the ones west of the Upper Rhoyne River?" an Andal elder asked.
Bishop Umu nodded. "Precisely them. I have connections with their monks, so I learned some of their circumstances."
"Logically, the Andals are one family, and we should help them. But these people currently show no sincerity in submitting to His Majesty Viserys. Is it rash to confront the dangerous Tyroshi slavers for their sake?" Another person voiced a different opinion.
"We are villages east of the river; things west of the river are always so bad. And Tyroshi mercenaries are not to be trifled with," an Andal elder also said worriedly.
"Look at you, where is our Andal courage?" Bishop Umu mocked unceremoniously.
Tyrosh was originally a Valyria military fortress, and its military prowess was stronger than Myr and Lys; Tyroshi mercenaries were quite capable.
The Myrmen, on the other hand, were mediocre sailors and weak warriors; their preferred weapons were daggers, short swords, and crossbows, often poisoned.
As for the Lysene, they were even more extraordinary; typical Lysene had blue eyes, platinum blonde curly hair, and smooth, fair skin. These Lysene were charming and disdained heavy labor.
"If we don't protect the rights of the Andals, who else will?" the oldest Andal elder said. "If the villages on the west bank suffer, soon the slavers will target our villages on the east bank. If His Majesty attacks to rescue them at this time, he can be their savior."
"Indeed," Ser Roland nodded. "I am a knight, nothing more. As long as we annihilate one slaver force, the other slavers will also become afraid."
"Braavos despises all slavers; slavers are evil," Syrio said.
"Righteous people are all brothers; how can we ignore the suffering of others and remain indifferent? I have decided to cross the Upper Rhoyne River and eliminate that group of slavers." Viserys's gaze swept across the council chamber, his mind now made up.
Viserys's voice was like steel, his eyes gleaming.
"Kill."
"Revenge against the Tyroshi, for our enslaved brothers and sisters."
"Revenge!"
"Revenge!"
The king had given the order, and even the weakest Andal elders chose to support him.
"Since we have decided to send troops, Bishop Umu can elaborate on how many soldiers these slavers have." Viserys asked Umu to introduce the basic situation.
"Alright, according to what I understand, there are about four or five slavers and forty Tyroshi mercenaries operating..."
"your majesty the king, to support your battle, we will send you the lists of cavalry and soldiers from our respective villages," an Andal elder said passionately.
These soldiers were to be incorporated into Viserys's army, but he hadn't expected the situation to be so pressing that these elders would immediately send troops without reservation.
This was good too; Viserys was confident that in battle, he could thoroughly unite these men.
Although he hadn't dealt with Viserys for too long, Viserys's reputation was already very high; he truly fought.
Tyroshi mercenaries were not like local Andal villagers, who were amateurs; they had considerable combat power.
Viserys hadn't anticipated that the second force he would have to deal with in the Velvet Hills would be Tyroshi slavers.
Viserys wanted to portray himself as the protector of the Andals, Rhoynar, and slaves, an embodiment of justice, so he had to severely punish these human traffickers... At dusk, Viserys and Ser Roland, leading thirty fully equipped cavalry, swiftly crossed a calm section of the Upper Rhoyne River; this was his most elite cavalry force.
Following the cavalry were over a hundred of the most combat-ready infantry selected from several hundred-man companies.
Besides Viserys and Roland, Bishop Umu and some Andal elders also accompanied Viserys.
They gnashed their teeth with hatred for the Tyroshi and wanted to see the complete destruction of their enemies.
The route for the advance was organized by an Andal elder most familiar with the terrain.
As their force passed through an Andal village west of the river, they found that the houses had been burned down and most of the people had fled.
Besides the burned houses, there were also some charred bodies of resistors in the village, emitting a strange foul odor.
The men who dared to resist had been killed; the slavers sought adult men, women, and children.
Viserys looked at the messy environment; these human traffickers were truly rotten to the core.
"It seems they have already acted," Bishop Umu said with a solemn expression.
Based on the scene and the direction of the hoofprints, the slaver's party should not have gone too far.
"Watch the torches, do not make loud noises, do not expose your position," Viserys commanded.
The light in Viserys's eyes gradually brightened; it seemed not a single one of these Tyroshi could be spared.
"We found the camp, northwest of the village," Ser Roland replied; he had personally led the scouts. "The Tyroshi have set up a military camp and are eating, drinking, and having fun inside. Besides a fence, there are also one or two watchtowers, so I didn't get too close."
"Wait until it gets a bit darker," Viserys said.
The last war was others attacking him; this time, Viserys was launching a surprise attack.
When night fell, the darkness became the best camouflage.
Walking on the muddy ground of the Velvet Hills, the warhorses were muzzled, and the army was careful about its movements.
Many Andal warriors were already boiling with excitement, inevitably eager to kill more slavers for revenge.
Viserys's dark scale armor was as dim as dust, and he carried a longsword, Sir William's sidearm, waiting to drink blood.
Even a lion uses its full strength to catch a rabbit; Viserys had already planned his tactics.
Viserys followed Ser Roland and saw the noisy camp, beside the muddy hill path.
The Tyroshi had prepared a camp with a wooden fence around the perimeter and guards patrolling.
These careless people certainly didn't expect the Andals to dare to encircle them.
Inside the camp, fires flickered, and the sound of women crying could be heard.
"Now is the time." Viserys calculated the time, waiting until the hour of the wolf, the darkest moment of the day.
Viserys raised his longsword, his target already aimed, and then he moved.
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