"The bitch's army has returned to the city, but they are bleeding."
"What is there to fear? We remain in the shadows. No one knows which hands guide the children in the streets."
In a secret, lightless chamber deep within the Pyramid of Pahl, the air was thick with the scent of expensive oils and the sweat of nervous men. A group of Meereenese Great Masters, their hair styled into the aggressive wings and horns of Ghiscari tradition, gathered to salvage what remained of their world.
"I never expected the Wise Masters of Yunkai to fold so easily," a man hissed, his fingers twisting a gold-tasseled tokar. "Tens of thousands of spears routed in a single night by that old man Selmy."
"Luck," a woman's voice replied, the Matriarch of House Pahl. "The dragons were released. It was a chaotic variable. But Eddard Karstark... he stayed in the Great Pyramid. He is a coward from the West."
"Have the 'sons' prepare. Tonight, we use the blood of a traitor to show the city that this 'Wizard' is a fraud. Let the people revile him."
"And the Pale Mare? The Yunkai'i threw the diseased into our streets."
The Pahl Matriarch sneered in the dark. "I have already sent my servants to collect the corpses. We will catapult them into the Unsullied barracks and the wells near the Great Pyramid. Let the plague gallop. If we cannot rule a prosperous Meereen, we will rule a city of ghosts. We can always build it again once the invaders are dead."
"Did you hear that?"
The chamber went silent.
"Hear what?"
"The sound of... iron."
BANG!
The iron-studded cedar door didn't just open; it exploded inward, the heavy planks sailing three meters into the room before hitting the floor with a bone-jarring thud.
"I am arresting every soul in this room on charges of high treason, conspiracy to commit regicide, and biological warfare," a voice boomed.
Eddard Karstark stepped through the wreckage, his hairless head reflecting the torchlight of the Unsullied surging in behind him. His grey-blue eyes were twin chips of ice. "If you run, you die. If you fight, you die slowly."
"RUN!" the Pahl Matriarch shrieked.
A Great Master nearby lunged for a stone vase, twisting it with a desperate strength. A hidden panel in the wall slid open, revealing a pitch-black escape tunnel. The masters hiked up their silk robes, scrambling toward the darkness.
Grey Worm didn't hesitate. He gave a sharp, melodic shout. A dozen Unsullied spears flew in a synchronized arc of bronze. The first three conspirators were pinned to the secret door like insects to a board. The rest tripped over the bodies and their own cumbersome silks, falling into a screaming, pathetic heap.
"Seize them," Grey Worm commanded.
The Unsullied dragged the living back into the center of the room, throwing them at Eddard's feet.
"What is the meaning of this?" the Pahl Matriarch spat, her face a mask of aging fury. "On the day Meereen fell, your Queen murdered our men. Do you intend to finish the work today?"
Eddard gestured to a guard, who threw a heavy bundle onto the table. It spilled open to reveal blood-stained yellow robes, bronze Harpy masks, and notched daggers.
"I have the evidence, Lady Pahl," Eddard said. He reached up as a small brown monkey, the Cedar Island alpha, leaped onto his shoulder. "Your 'sons' were busy last night. They murdered thirty Free Folk, but they didn't notice the eyes in the trees. My little friend here followed them straight to your basement."
The masters went pale. They had guarded against the Shavepue's spies and the Unsullied patrols, but they had never considered a monkey to be a witness.
Barristan Selmy walked slowly through the room, checking the faces of the dead and the bound. His expression was one of profound, soul-weary grief. He saw the heads of the Zhak, Hazkar, Ghazheen, and Uhlez families.
"Lord Eddard..." Barristan whispered. "They were all here. Every family I tried to negotiate with. Every master who smiled at the Queen's table."
"They are hypocrites, Ser Barristan," Eddard said, patting the old knight's shoulder. "They play the submissive subject by day and the Harpy by night. They don't want peace; they want their property back. And in their eyes, the Queen is just a very expensive piece of property that needs to be broken."
Barristan looked at the Harpy masks and finally let his chivalry drop. His hand tightened on the hilt of his sword. "They all deserved the fire."
Outside the emerald-green walls of the Pahl Pyramid, the Green Grace arrived in an eight-man palanquin.
"Lord Hand! Lord Eddard!" she wailed from behind her veil. "Why this senseless attack on the nobility? House Pahl is a house of widows! They have done nothing!"
Eddard stepped forward, looking at the woman who was likely eighty years old and yet still playing the "innocent" game. "Tell me, Holiness... I noticed that among the dozen families represented in that secret room, House Galare was conspicuously absent. Your own house."
The Green Grace went silent.
"We found the masks. We found the daggers. And we found the plans to poison the city's wells with the Pale Mare," Eddard continued, his voice carrying to the gathering crowd of temple servants. "Anyone who defends them is a co-conspirator. Do you wish to join them in the cells?"
"This is a frame-up!" she shrieked. "The people will not stand for this!"
"The people are currently under my martial law," Eddard smiled. "Let's see if they prefer your 'conscience' or my clean water."
An hour later, the Green Grace sat in her temple, listening to a litany of disasters.
"Your Holiness, the Brazen Beasts have blocked every intersection. No one is allowed to pass."
"The Strong Shield Army has surrounded the Temple. They say the first offense for leaving is the whip, the second is the axe."
"The Karstark fleet has seized the port. Every well in the city is being guarded by men in masks."
The Green Grace collapsed into her gilded chair, her voice a weak groan. "It is over. The 'Mother' was a girl we could trick. This... this is a demon lord who knows our secrets before we whisper them."
At the apex of the Great Pyramid, Eddard looked out over the sprawling, silent city.
"Lord Eddard," Missandei said, pointing to the logistics map. "The food distribution is organized. I have requisitioned the secondary pyramids and the fighting pits as central kitchens. But we lack fuel to boil the volume of water you require."
"The Yunkish catapults outside the city," Eddard commanded. "The fences from their camps. The ship planks from the harbor wrecks. Use them all. My fleet has already sailed back to Cedar Island to harvest timber. When they return, we will have a mountain of wood."
"And the sick?" Missandei asked softly.
"Isolate them in the pits. Burn the dead immediately. No burials, no exceptions," Eddard replied.
He knew he couldn't cure the flux without antibiotics, but he could stop the transmission. In the absence of a "Mother of Dragons," Meereen would have an "Iron Regent."
As the Windblown and the Second Sons fled into the Dothraki Sea to avoid the plague, Eddard stood alone on the terrace. He was the Butcher of Meereen, the Sanitation Dictator, and the Dragon-Binder. He would keep the city alive, not for the sake of the Masters, but to ensure that when Daenerys returned, she found a kingdom worth staying for.
[System Notification: The Great Purge: House Pahl liquidated.]
Plz Drop Some Power Stones.
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