Chapter 33.5- The Seadragon's Roar

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At least they were not so stubborn as to think that they would not be surrendering, I thought as I sat on Bloodstone’s throne and listened to the messenger that the triarchy had sent with our man. A messenger that was causing some stir, quite frankly, and I could see why. He wore his shackles openly, and his brand was visible for all to see. They had sent a slave to treat with me. It was many things at once.

An insult, that was for sure. A slave? The implication being that I was at the same level? And then there was the other thing. This man was Westerosi. Not just Westerosi, but this man, if I was right, was from driftmark. He looked like he could have belonged on the island, but with how multicultural a port city was, that wasn’t my basis. It was the way he spoke. I wouldn’t say there was such a thing as a Driftmarkian accent or whatever, but there were just some words and some ways of saying them that were native to our people.

“Where do you hail from, man?” I asked, the question coming out of me and interrupting him mid-speech.

“My lord?” He asked. There again.

“I asked where you hail from, good man”

“From Tyros. This one is the--“

“No. Where were you born? Where did your mother raise you?”

“This one has no such past, my lord. This one is the property—“

“You are not property” I near yelled the word.

“You are a man of Driftmark. Now tell me whether it is true or not”

He seemed to tremble at my words, hand reaching up to some scars that I could see continue to travel beyond his clothes and covering.

“You are a man of Driftmark” I said again, and this time he began to nod, tears falling down his face. The waiting audience of sailors and Baratheon warriors, previously bristling at being addressed by a slave had softened. Softened to the point that Vaemond himself had walked up to the man and was holding him, whispering to him.

No matter how no Westerosi lord liked to say it, we suffered slave raids every so often. Never on the mainland, of course. Only a fool would court united wrath like that. But everything a Westerosi took to the sea, they ran the risk of being taken and being turned into this. A tool for the satisfaction of lesser men. Slavery was a scourge, I could see it. And if I were a better man, I would dedicate the immense resources at my disposal to putting it to an end.