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Chapter 262: The Plague’s Impact and Nation-Building
🕑 Added 2025-04-11 11:48:41 +0000 UTCAfter a year, the plague across Westeros was finally eradicated. King Robert declared the day the last patient in King’s Landing recovered and left quarantine as the Day of Redemption.
Although this plague did not spread to the inland towns of Westeros as the Great Spring Sickness had a century ago—thanks to swift lockdowns in major cities—the speed and severity of its outbreak far exceeded that of its predecessor.
Take King’s Landing, for instance. While it was not reduced to a complete wasteland, nearly half of its population perished. Entire households were wiped out—when one person fell ill, the infection spread to the whole family, leaving no survivors. Flea Bottom, once teeming with life, now had fewer than five thousand residents. The Dragonpit remained filled with mountains of burning corpses, and it would take months, if not longer, to fully clear the remains.
Other cities fared slightly better than King’s Landing, but not by much—especially White Harbor. As the largest port in the North, White Harbor’s population had never been particularly large, and the losses from this plague had severely crippled the city.
Yet, the loss of life was only one of many problems the lords of Westeros now faced. The economic toll was immense—tax revenue plummeted, inheritance disputes surged, and crime rates spiked as order struggled to be restored. Even Robert, a king more interested in feasts and tournaments than ruling, was forced to abandon his pleasures and remain seated on the Iron Throne to deal with the aftermath.
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Across the Narrow Sea, the situation mirrored that of Westeros in many ways. With Lyra, the High Septon of the Storm God’s Temple, securing medicine from Summerhall, Braavos quickly brought its plague under control. The reputation of the Storm God’s Temple soared during this crisis, and by the end of the plague, its followers were second only to the worshippers of the Moonsingers, making it Braavos’ second-largest faith.
However, while the Storm God’s influence grew primarily within Braavos, the faith of the God of Calamity spread rapidly throughout the Free Cities. Cities that suffered from the plague naturally welcomed the faith, but even Norvos—untouched by the disease—erected a temple dedicated to the God of Calamity, with the approval of its bearded priests.
Qohor, already a stronghold of the God of Calamity due to Lynd’s influence, saw an even greater surge in followers. The faith of the Black Goat and R’hllor, once dominant in the city, was completely overshadowed. The two rival religious factions, previously enemies, were now forced to unite just to resist the overwhelming rise of the God of Calamity’s worship.
A similar transformation occurred in Volantis. After the Church of the God of Calamity successfully eradicated the plague, a temple to the deity was established in the heart of the city, directly opposing the Red Temple of the Lord of Light.
Mafas Pansien did not linger in Volantis. As soon as the city’s plague was dealt with, he led his followers toward Slaver’s Bay, seeing this as the perfect opportunity to spread the faith. If they missed this chance, there was no telling when another one would arise.
However, Mafas and his followers soon returned to the Disputed Lands—the plague in Slaver’s Bay had burned out far faster than expected.
Since the disease primarily spread among slaves, the masters of Slaver’s Bay took a brutal but effective approach: they simply buried all infected slaves alive, wiping out the plague at its source.
While this method left little room for the God of Calamity’s intervention, the three major cities of Slaver’s Bay still constructed temples in his name. Unsurprisingly, nearly all worshippers of the deity in the region were slaves.
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Compared to the Seven Kingdoms, the Free Cities, and Slaver’s Bay, the Dothraki, as the source of the plague, suffered the most.
The Dothraki held deep superstitions about magic, shunning healers, witches, and sorcerers. They not only refused treatment from such people but also avoided any contact with them.
Ironically, many of those they scorned possessed medical knowledge far superior to the crude healing practices of the Dothraki. Though they could not cure the plague outright, they could have at least slowed its spread.
Yet, without proper containment measures, and given the Dothraki’s nomadic lifestyle, the inevitable happened—the entire Dothraki Sea was consumed by the plague. Even Vaes Dothrak was not spared.
However, within Vaes Dothrak, the Dosh Khaleen included many skilled healers, and they managed to control the outbreak within the city. They even saved numerous khalasars that had arrived seeking refuge, earning them significant prestige.
But for the roaming khalasars scattered across the plains, it was a different story. With no medicine and only their bodies and faith to rely on, they succumbed in vast numbers. Many khalasars were wiped out entirely.
Khal Drogo’s khalasar, the origin of the plague, suffered the worst casualties. When he had left the Disputed Lands, he commanded a force of 100,000 Dothraki warriors. By the time he reached Vaes Dothrak, only 20,000 remained.
Many of these 20,000 people were those he had annexed along the way—other weakened Khaless who had succumbed further to the plague. Without them, the number of Dothraki warriors under his command would be reduced to just a few thousand. This meant that the number of Dothraki warriors who perished on the journey had reached as high as 90,000.
Even the mighty Dothraki warriors suffered such losses, so the fate of their servants and slaves was even more tragic. The weak—children and the elderly—were all dead, leaving only the strongest Jaqqa rhans to survive.
The Dothraki had suffered catastrophic losses in this great plague, which was a relief for any Free City living under their iron hoofs. In the coming years, the Dothraki would likely turn on each other in the Dothraki Sea, either warring amongst themselves or retreating to recover, no longer posing an immediate threat to the Free Cities.
Lynd also took advantage of the plague, completing his control over the Disputed Lands and the three major Free Cities in a far shorter time than he had originally anticipated.
Although the governance of the three cities remained largely unchanged, Lynd seized control of their military and law enforcement. Half of the tax revenues collected were sent to Summerhall. Of the remaining half, one portion was allocated for military wages and expenses, leaving only a quarter for the construction and upkeep of the cities.
All the Free Cities adopted Myr’s model of power division, electing a Chief Trade Magister and a Chief Civil Magister from among the Magisters, Triarchs, and merchants to oversee all Magisters and maintain the city’s government. However, the Warfare Magister was directly appointed by Summerhall and was usually a garrison commander, rarely interfering in civil administration.
During the plague, the Holy City of the Scourge was also established. Unlike the temples of other deities, the temple of the God of Calamity did not hold direct authority over the city. Instead, Lynd retained control, and the city’s garrison was managed by the Chosen Legion, making it similar to the governance of Miracle Harbor.
The key difference was that the temple was permitted to establish a religious military force known as the Sons of Disaster. Their numbers were strictly limited to a thousand warriors, and only those who passed the trials of calamity set by Lynd were allowed to join their ranks.
Meanwhile, the reconstruction of Ny Sar progressed smoothly. It had been spared the devastation of the plague, had ample resources, and required no new foundations to be laid. As a result, the city was quickly rebuilt upon its old ruins.
More and more Rhoynar gathered there, and the population soon surpassed 200,000, reaching the current capacity of Ny Sar. To prevent overcrowding, Nymeria had to redirect people elsewhere. Some were sent to Ghoyan Drohe, where they joined the orphans of the Greenblood in rebuilding the settlement, while others were dispatched to Ar Noy to restore another former Rhoynar stronghold.
As the plague in Volantis neared its end, Nymeria led the fleet she had long prepared to purge the river pirates of Dagger Lake.
With the help of the Old Man of the River, she easily dealt with the pirates’ ships on the lake. As for those hiding in caves on the islands, she showed no mercy. She ordered large quantities of damp firewood to be set ablaze and thrown into the caves, filling them with thick smoke before sealing the entrances shut with massive stones.
Afterward, she established three water fortresses on the lake, forming three naval fleets dedicated to hunting down any remaining pirates.
By then, Nymeria had secured control over the middle reaches of the Rhoyne, firmly holding the vast lands surrounding Ny Sar in her grasp.
“You want to found a kingdom?” Lynd asked, slightly surprised as he gazed at Nymeria, who now carried herself with an entirely different air.
Having secured the central stretch of the Rhoyne, Nymeria returned to Summerhall with Augustus.
However, this time, she had no intention of staying for long—she had other plans.
“Do you oppose it?” Nymeria’s voice carried a regal weight. She had changed—not in appearance or stature, but in presence.
Once, she had been a warrior. Now, she was a queen. She exuded the same commanding aura that Robert had, her tone laced with a quiet but undeniable authority.
Lynd found it difficult to adjust to this transformation. He gently pried Augustus off his leg and handed him to the Holy Sister of Redemption, instructing her to take him to the dragon’s lair to play, giving himself a moment to collect his thoughts.
Once they were alone, he asked directly, “Are you planning to stay in Ny Sar for good?”
Nymeria was silent for a moment, then nodded.
“What about Tumbleton?” Lynd asked.
Nymeria gave him a look, as if surprised he even needed to ask. “We’re husband and wife. Naturally, Tumbleton belongs to you.”
“Have you considered how the Iron Throne will react?” Lynd pressed.
Nymeria countered, “Do we still need to care about the Iron Throne’s reaction?”
Lynd wanted to argue, but he couldn’t find the words—because Nymeria was right. At this moment, he really didn’t need to concern himself with the Iron Throne’s response.
After the Great Spring Sickness, not only had the Iron Throne been weakened to its very core, but the great lords of Westeros had also suffered devastating losses. Right now, they were far more likely to be worried about whether the increasingly powerful Summerhall would expand than about Nymeria establishing a kingdom on the continent of Essos.
Lynd considered for a moment, then asked, “What name will you give this kingdom?”
Hearing this, Nymeria knew he had agreed. Though she had carried herself with absolute confidence upon arriving, deep down, she had still been anxious. After all, the only reason she had been able to establish Ny Sar was because of Lynd—his reputation, his resources. If he opposed her founding a kingdom, she would have no choice but to abandon this long-cherished plan.
In truth, founding a Rhoynar kingdom along the Rhoyne had never been a spur-of-the-moment decision. From the moment she had set foot in Ny Sar, the thought had taken root in her mind. Every policy she enacted there—from political structuring to military organization, to defining territorial boundaries—had been aimed toward this goal. The only thing missing was Lynd’s support.
Even so, she had been uneasy before this conversation, because she knew exactly how much she was asking for. If she established a kingdom, she would have to remain there for long stretches of time as its ruler. She wasn’t sure if Lynd would accept such an arrangement, with husband and wife living in different lands.
But now, at last, she could breathe a sigh of relief. A smile spread across her face. “I’m naming it Rhoyne.”
Lynd nodded slightly. “And after the kingdom is founded, what’s your next step?”
Nymeria thought for a moment. “I plan to build a road connecting the Valyrian highway from Myr to Pentos. That way, the Rhoyne will have a direct link to Summerhall. Supplies can be transported overland instead of relying on Volantis.”
“Hmm.” Lynd nodded again. “I’ll have the people in Myr assist you.”
Nymeria continued, “I also plan to expand the kingdom’s borders southward, all the way to the Sorrows—to Chroyane.”
Lynd raised a brow. “Chroyane is overrun by stone men. How do you intend to deal with the greyscale they carry?”
“Does the Blackcave have a cure?” Nymeria asked.
“It’s difficult,” Lynd admitted, shaking his head. “There’s no effective treatment at the moment. The common folk believe amputation is a solution, but the Blackcave has already tested that method. The results were mediocre—at first, it seemed to work, but before long, the affliction would resurface elsewhere on the body…”
Mid-sentence, he suddenly stopped, his expression shifting. After a brief pause, he said, “I’ll build a research settlement near Chroyane specifically to study greyscale. You’ll be responsible for securing the area and capturing stone men for study.”
Nymeria’s gaze sharpened. “Have you thought of a cure?”
Lynd nodded. “I know of a potion that can reverse petrification, but it was originally designed for magical petrification. Whether it works against greyscale, I can’t say. Worse still, the key ingredients for the potion have gone extinct. We’ll have to experiment with alternatives, and that could take years.”
Nymeria wasn’t deterred. “That’s fine. There’s no rush.”
Then, with a peculiar glint in her eyes, she fixed her gaze on Lynd. “But there’s a third matter of importance after the founding of the kingdom—one we must attend to immediately.”
Lynd blinked. “What is it? Why the urgency?”
Nymeria stepped closer, wrapped her arms around him, and murmured, “We need to have another child. He—or she—will be the heir to the Kingdom of Lorne.”
With that, she wasted no time in taking Lynd’s hand and leading him toward the castle’s bedchamber.
