The merchant ship crossed the Summer Sea, and the air grew ever hotter and more humid.
The cold winds of Westeros seemed like memories from another lifetime.
Now the blazing red sun scorched the deck, drawing sticky sweat from every pore.
Daenerys leaned against Lynn's chest as the sea breeze stirred her long silver-gold hair.
She pointed to a name circled in red ink on the sea chart, a hint of puzzlement in her voice.
"Astapor?"
"The Dothraki are a herd of wild horses without discipline, Dany," Lynn said calmly.
He held Daenerys's hand, feeling its delicate warmth.
"They can overrun a city wall, but a moment later, they'll slaughter one another over a woman."
"They can only be conquered."
Lynn gazed toward the distant southeast.
There, a reddish-brown coastline was slowly coming into view.
Astapor.
The pearl of Slaver's Bay.
A city built of blood and brick finally appeared before them all.
The enormous red brick walls shone harshly beneath the blazing sun, as though soaked in blood.
Atop the highest stretch of wall stood a massive bronze Harpy, holding chains and a whip aloft as it looked down contemptuously on every ship entering or leaving the harbor.
An indescribable stench swept over them on the hot wind.
It was the mingled smell of sweat, spices, dust, and desiccated corpses.
Daenerys frowned instinctively and buried her face a little deeper against Lynn's chest.
"So this is Astapor."
Viserys's voice came from nearby, tinged with a sickly excitement.
He stood by the rail, gazing greedily at the city that reeked of wealth and sin.
"The city of slaves!"
"They say there are more slaves here than free people!"
"Look at those fools! That fat Illyrio was actually afraid of them!"
"They should be trampled underfoot!"
The merchant ship slowly entered