"Andals, the blessed land of the Seven Gods, shall once again flourish under the leadership of His Majesty, King Viserys, the Warrior Incarnate!" the Andal monks loudly proclaimed, bestowing their blessings as sunlight streamed upon the Andal seven-pointed star banner.
Unlike the aristocratic monks of the Great Sept of Westeros, who lived lives of luxury, the monks of Andalos were more like country priests.
Though they appeared tattered and worn, these monks genuinely served the common people, and the Andals favored these rough-hewn priests.
"Andals, the blessed land of the Seven Gods!"
"May the Seven Gods bless Andalos, and bless King Viserys!" the Andal soldiers and common folk shouted, their voices echoing as if they had returned to the era when ironclad cavalry roamed freely and Andal knights dominated the land.
Listening to the cries of the Andal warriors and people, Viserys felt as if a golden aura truly descended upon him—the will of the people, the essence of divinity.
These shouts wrapped him in a mantle of "godhood," connecting the scattered villages.
For the Andals to rise again, it ultimately meant reorganizing themselves, transforming from fragmented villages back into a centralized kingdom, and instilling discipline and obedience.
The military power unleashed by the integration of a backward civilization was something the decadent free trade cities could not comprehend.
Viserys was poised, ready to deliver a small, shocking Andal iron fist to those corrupt governors and merchants.
"Right now in Andalos, we are essentially dancing on four eggs," Viserys told Ser Rolly Duckfield, his master-at-arms, and Bishop Oakhart of Andalos.
Andalos is located south of Braavos and the Braavosi coast, east of the Narrow Sea, and west of the Norvos Hills.
The western part of Andalos, near the Narrow Sea, is flatland, while to the east, it becomes more hilly, like the Velvet Hills. South of the hills is the southern border of the Old Kingdom, now flatlands controlled by Pentos.
In essence, Andalos was a land of constant conflict. It was surrounded by Braavos, Pentos, Norvos, the Rhoynar, the Dothraki, and across the Narrow Sea, their old enemy, the Iron Throne.
"That is indeed the situation. Even with the natural defenses of the coastline and the Rhoyne River, it doesn't change this predicament," Bishop Oakhart said.
"If we can eliminate one front of enemies, our troubles will be significantly reduced," Viserys said after some thought.
Pentos was already an undefended city. The main powerful neighbors were now the secret city of Braavos to the north and the Dothraki horsemen to the east. Of course, if his power expanded further, he might even face Westerosi armies crossing the sea.
Viserys' strategy was to unify Andalos, maintain peace in the north and south, and expand in other directions.
For now, he would ensure peace with Braavos to the north, maintain the status quo with Pentos to the south, and then extend his power eastward and westward.
"The Greenmantle family has more wealth, and the Stonehand family can provide much-needed iron. I'm afraid they won't willingly submit…" said Ser Rolly Duckfield, draped in a blue and white cloak.
Even a master-at-arms and enforcer like Ser Rolly understood the impending power struggle.
The Greenmantle and Stonehand families might have harbored ambitions of becoming "King of Andalos," but their lack of strength made them hesitant and indecisive. They were too afraid of both sides, so they remained in a comfortable, lukewarm state.
But now, with Viserys, an outsider, parachuting in, their thoughts were easy to guess.
"Given the situation, should we be wary of the Greenmantle and Stonehand families?" Bishop Oakhart quietly reminded him again.
"We can be cautious, but not overly so," Viserys told Bishop Oakhart.
To strike, one must first endure—this was Viserys' strategy. Viserys would not expose the Greenmantle family's affairs now; he was waiting for a better opportunity.
Viserys was not showing weakness, but rather needed to create a trap that could simultaneously deal with the impending Tyroshi slavers, the Greenmantle family, and the Stonehand family.
"Bishop Oakhart, there is another matter you need to attend to: the movements along the Rhoyne River," Viserys said. "The movements of the Rhoynar at the border, and the movements of the Dothraki horsemen."
"It is my honor, Your Majesty," Bishop Oakhart of Andalos replied. "When the Andals rise again, our Rhoynish neighbors certainly won't sit still."
The relationship between the Rhoynar and the Andals was somewhat like quantum entanglement: there were grievances, there was cooperation, but now it was more like impoverished siblings tugging at each other.
The most remote Andal and Rhoynish villages would intermarry, and occasionally fight over land and water. But both Andal and Rhoynish civilizations had long since fragmented; now, at most, it was village-level skirmishes.
The Andals claimed that the "Smith" taught them ironworking, recorded in their "Seven-Pointed Star Bible." This was merely self-aggrandizement, as the Rhoynar civilization was more advanced and skilled in ironworking back then.
Considering that the Andals migrated from the Axe Peninsula to Andalos, it was highly probable they learned Rhoynish techniques.
But the Andals were not good students; instead, they sought to expand into the Rhoyne River, but their strength disparity always led to them being routed. It wasn't until the Andals discovered that the Valyrian dragonlords of Essos were even more formidable monsters of Khorne that most chose to flee.
Wooing the Rhoynar was at least a limited strategy, because the fate of the Rhoynar and the Andals was now completely intertwined. Both were once prosperous but had now become oppressed, fragmented civilizations.
Just as Viserys had formed a plan in his mind, the main force reached a ford on the Upper Rhoyne River, and it was time to cross.
The main force moved from the west bank of Andalos to the east bank.
"Cross the river!" Viserys brandished his longsword.
The sound spread like a plague, starting with the King's Guard, then the cavalry, then the infantry, then the people in the carriages, and finally the walking Andal commoners.
"Cross the river!"
"Cross the river!" All the voices mingled together, a thousand shouts.
"When historians write my story, my history will begin in Andalos," Viserys cracked his whip, and his black steed led the way across the Upper Rhoyne River.
Then the ford was successively trodden by hooves, carriages, and pedestrians, mixing the smell of horses and human sweat. This mingled scent marked a rare great migration for the Andals.
Viserys spurred his horse, the fierce wind sweeping across his cheeks and hair, as he eagerly returned to his fortress, his capital.
When he left Braavos, he was merely an exiled king without a realm. Now in Andalos, he finally had his own small kingdom, and though small, it harbored infinite hope.
Though it was an old Andal state, its destiny was to be renewed.
"Viserys's Keep has arrived!"
"The fortress has arrived!"
The accompanying Andals gazed up at the fortress and town on the hills of the Upper Rhoyne's right bank, a stone stronghold that symbolized the Andals' re-establishment of their kingdom.
Seeing the large contingent at the foot of the mountain, Syrio and Rhaenys on the watchtower immediately gave orders, signaling a welcome to the King and his party.
In response, the horns on the mountaintop sounded, their clear military calls forming a new echo.
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