Chapter 88 — Suppression
After ordering his men to clear the bodies, Jorah led a group of more than twenty back toward the Great Pyramid.
With so many Sons of the Harpy attacks erupting across the city, Queen Daenerys would surely summon them for council.
Drogon circled Meereen once more before returning, killing over a dozen more Harpies along the way.
---
Inside the Pyramid, the Unsullied had just brought in Grey Worm and Barristan.
Grey Worm was unconscious from heavy wounds. Barristan, aside from a serious injury to his left shoulder, had only lighter cuts — nothing that broke bone.
Seeing the large bloodstain soaking Grey Worm's abdomen while he lay unmoving made Daenerys' heart lurch. She hurriedly called for a healer. Only after learning his life was not in danger did she breathe again.
Once Grey Worm and Barristan were settled, Daenerys immediately gathered Drogon into her arms, anxiously checking him for injuries.
She wiped his entire body down with cloth — only to realize the blood covering him wasn't his.
Only then did she truly relax.
When she'd watched from the Pyramid as hundreds of Harpies rushed Drogon, each dreaming of becoming a dragon-slayer, she had nearly screamed. She'd forced herself to stay silent, afraid of distracting him.
She hadn't imagined he would flash through them like lightning — unharmed, crippling most of them in moments and terrifying the rest into surrender.
Her fingers stroked the dark, gleaming scales along his body. On impulse, she squeezed one.
Hard as iron.
No wonder blades couldn't pierce him.
Being held down and wiped all over left Drogon more than a little embarrassed. The moment Daenerys' grip loosened, he slipped free of her "clutches" and flapped up into the air.
Only after confirming he wasn't hurt did Daenerys turn to Jorah, who had just returned.
"Ser Jorah," she said, her voice cold with resolve, "go at once to Hizdahr zo Loraq's estate. Make him tell us everything he knows about the Sons of the Harpy. If he still refuses, bring him and his entire household here."
This attack had nearly cost her a senior commander and one of her most loyal Queensguard.
She no longer had the patience to wait for Hizdahr to speak willingly.
If he still dared keep silent…
She would not hesitate to tear his house out by the roots.
After Jorah left, Daenerys turned to a sellsword of the Second Sons.
"Vice-Commander Daren," she ordered, "you and Tyrion will interrogate the captured Sons of the Harpy. I want their backers — names, families, everything."
After Daario's departure, she had appointed Jorah as acting vice-commander of the Second Sons, jointly overseeing the mercenaries in Meereen with Daren.
She hadn't expected this.
On the surface, Meereen had seemed calm. The Great Masters had been outwardly cordial. Some had even donated rare books to the academy.
And yet today, such a massive, coordinated attack.
Only now did she truly understand: conquering a city was far easier than ruling one.
Her thoughts drifted anxiously to Astapor and Yunkai — slave cities just like Meereen. She wondered what was happening there.
And Rhaegal and Viserion…
This was their first true battle. Even with Drogon's confidence, she couldn't help worrying.
---
An hour later, a Second Sons rider arrived with news: under pressure, Hizdahr zo Loraq had revealed two Harpy hideouts and awaited further orders.
"Ser Daren," Daenerys commanded, "take five hundred men and go with Ser Jorah to those locations. And send guards to protect House Loraq. I will not have a family that submits to me suffer reprisals."
When Jorah arrived at his estate, Hizdahr knew he could no longer stall. His father, a high-ranking Meereenese noble, had known an attack was coming — just not when.
If he still resisted now, his house would not survive the Queen's wrath.
---
Using his intelligence, Jorah and Daren quickly located two hidden Harpy gathering points.
Over a hundred conspirators from today's attack were meeting there, apparently planning their next move.
Jorah's assault caught them completely off guard.
Six hundred against barely a hundred — the fight was swift. Over thirty Harpies died; the rest were captured and dragged back for questioning.
The second hideout held fewer men. After a short fight, they too were taken.
Most of the Harpies wounded earlier by Drogon turned out to be freedmen serving Great Masters. A smaller portion were noble sons and nephews.
Mercenaries had many ways to loosen tongues. Pulling fingernails was child's play compared to what followed.
It didn't take long.
Confessions poured in.
Each time new names surfaced, Daenerys sent soldiers — often with one or two Dothraki — to arrest the implicated masters and seize their estates.
The Dothraki loved this work.
They looted with enthusiasm so thorough they might have stripped the plaster from the walls if allowed.
Interrogations continued. More Harpy cells were exposed and crushed.
Meereen, already shaken by the attack, descended into chaos once more — nobles and their families dragged from homes, weeping.
Anyone even suspected of involvement — master or freedman — was imprisoned first. Guilt could be sorted out later.
By the time the roundup ended, the city's prisons overflowed. Additional cells had to be opened.
Only then did Daenerys feel a measure of security.
For now, the Sons of the Harpy had lost their fangs.
With Barristan injured, her three bloodriders — Aggo, Jhogo, and Rakharo — returned to her side as personal guards.
---
As the crisis settled, Drogon decided to check on his "little brothers."
He had vouched for them to the Mother of Dragons — but this was still their first war. He couldn't quite shake the worry.
In less than twenty minutes, he reached the skies above Yunkai.
Dozens of large warships lay offshore in Slaver's Bay. Massive trebuchets hurled stones at the city walls. Flaming arrows rained down from decks.
The battle was fierce.
ROAR!
A sharp, ringing dragon cry split the sky.
A golden shape, larger than a warhorse, came hurtling in — Viserion.
The ships reacted instantly. Trebuchets swung toward him; archers filled the air with arrows.
Viserion did not retreat.
He tilted a wing, letting a boulder pass, then plunged through the storm of arrows. As he swooped over a ship, his jaws opened—
A torrent of blazing dragonfire erupted.
The siege engine ignited. Sailors who failed to flee were swallowed in flame.
He soared past, then banked sharply, already diving toward the next ship fifty meters away.