As the rising sun tore through the morning sea mist, a fleet so vast it took the breath away slowly sailed into view.
Masts rose like a forest, sails blotted out the sun, and the sheer number of ships almost covered the blue of the entire bay.
Qarth's distinctive figureheads, painted in strange colors and set with enormous gems, glittered in the sunlight. The triangular sails of the Tourmaline Brotherhood mingled with the round-bellied merchant ships of the Ancient Guild of Spicers, forming a strange and magnificent sight.
The flagship at the head of the fleet docked and lowered its gangplank.
Rowan appeared at the ship's rail, travel-worn, his face weary from the long journey, but his eyes were unusually bright.
He strode off the ship, followed by ranks of Unsullied warriors, silent as stone, their steps perfectly in unison.
Wearing their distinctive spiked helmets and carrying spears and round shields, their eyes empty yet holding an iron discipline, a full thousand of them swiftly streamed off the ships and formed ranks on the docks.
Behind them came an endless tide of people that made the heart tighten.
Men and women, old and young, dressed in rags, their faces sallow and thin, with black hair and black eyes filled with the numbness of long wandering and bewilderment at their unknown fate.
They poured out of the holds of one great ship after another, stepping slowly and heavily onto this unfamiliar land.
The harbor was instantly filled with a dense sea of heads.
Low murmurs, infants' cries, and feeble coughs mingled together.
Liu Qian had already received the report from Torturer's Deep and had come to the docks to welcome them.
It had likewise been a year ago, just after his coronation, that he had sent Rowan of Kakosa with gold