Bab 181: Chapter 180: Petyr Baelish
The sun shone brightly.
At the Sea Lord's Palace in Braavos, a slender, short young man stood in the garden, admiring the viBenjent green and peach blossoms before him.
Winter is coming.
Now that King Robert had been forced to abandon his plans to conquer Essos, the entire Seven Kingdoms, apart from Dorne, were busy preparing for the coming winter.
However, on the other side of the Narrow Sea in Braavos, the city still enjoyed a flourishing, spring-like atmosphere. The locals said that the recent drop in temperature was only temporary.
The young man gazed at the beautiful garden before him and couldn't help but think of his homeland and the girl with auburn hair he once knew.
He had even been willing to risk his life in a duel for her, but sadly, she had gone to the distant North, likely never to be seen again.
"Lord Petyr Baelish."
At that moment, a voice called from behind the young man.
A man wearing a simple gray robe approached, and after exchanging a few pleasantries, the Braavosi city official gestured for Petyr to follow him.
Petyr Baelish, the young man, nodded politely and revealed a standard smile. The two then proceeded deeper into the Sea Lord's Palace.
After navigating through several winding corridors, the two arrived at the bedroom of the Sea Lord of Braavos.
Knock, knock...
The city official tapped gently on the door, and they heard two coughs from within, followed by a muffled "Come in."
Creak.
The gray-robed city official pushed open the door and gestured for Petyr to enter. Petyr nodded and stepped inside.
Ferrego Antaryon, the current Sea Lord of Braavos, was in much worse health compared to when Viserys had met him.
Now, his body was thin and frail, and his hair had turned completely white, despite being in his early forties.
Had he not been the Sea Lord of Braavos, perhaps his illness would have claimed him by now. However, he clung to life with the aid of many precious and rare medicines.
Standing beside his bed was a tall, burly swordsman wearing heavy armor, his eyes sharp and focused as he scrutinized the small man from Westeros representing the Iron Throne.
The Chief Swordsman of Braavos had been replaced.
The former Chief Swordsman, Syrio Forel, had been exiled from the Sea Lord's Palace for some unknown transgression and was forbidden from ever returning to Braavos.
This new Chief Swordsman, however, did not possess the typical Braavosi style.
Instead, he resembled a traditional Westerosi knight, valuing strength and size over the agile and swift water dance.
His name was Quiro Valentin.
"Esteemed Ferrego Antaryon, on behalf of His Majesty King Robert Baratheon, I offer you my greetings."
The young man from King's Landing took in the current state of the Sea Lord of Braavos, and his gray-green eyes flickered with a hint of surprise.
Nevertheless, he composed himself and bowed slightly in respect.
He had never imagined that the man rumored to possess the greatest wealth in the world and command the most powerful "Invincible Fleet" would be lying in bed, gravely ill.
Petyr Baelish didn't understand the intricacies of the political system in Braavos, but he knew that once elected, the Sea Lord held the position for life.
Yet, despite his frailty, there was no one within Braavos who seemed to be seeking to replace him. Petyr couldn't comprehend it.
The Sea Lord lay in bed, looking at the emissary of the Iron Throne with weary eyes. Just as he was about to say something, he was interrupted by a series of violent coughs.
"Your Grace, would you like to have some more medicine?" asked his chief swordsman, Quiro, with concern. However, he was dismissed with a wave from the Sea Lord after a fit of coughing.
"No need, Quiro. It is not yet time for my medicine."
The Sea Lord's gaze returned to Petyr Baelish.
"Lord Baelish, is it?"
His voice was weak, but he managed to maintain a determined demeanor.
"If King Robert wishes to borrow money, he should speak with the Iron Bank's manager, not me."
He had heard that the Iron Bank had just rejected a loan request from the Master of Coin from King's Landing last month, citing the approaching winter and the Seven Kingdoms' lack of repayment capability. They had demanded collateral in the form of mines and land.
However, to his surprise, not much time had passed, and the Iron Throne had sent another envoy, this time seeking an audience with him.
"King Robert has sent me to Braavos not to seek a loan," explained Petyr Baelish.
"But to explore other areas of cooperation with Braavos, Your Grace."
As the matter at hand was broached, Petyr adopted a more serious tone and began to speak earnestly.
"I have just come from Pentos."
"Oh?" The Sea Lord showed no surprise at hearing this, as if he had already known that Petyr Baelish's journey had originated in Pentos.
"Cooperation."
"I wonder what kind of cooperation King Robert seeks with Braavos."
Lying in his bed, the Sea Lord's voice remained weak, yet somehow carried an inexplicable pressure that even caused the experienced negotiator 'Littlefinger' to feel his heartbeat quicken.
Persuading a formidable man like the Sea Lord of Braavos was much more challenging than dealing with the Magisters of Pentos.
Petyr Baelish had been recommended for this important mission by Jon Arryn, the Hand of the King. The old Lord had long recognized the young man's exceptional abilities, having been introduced to him by his wife, Lysa.
Though Petyr hailed from an insignificant family, his father had forged a friendship with House Tully during the War of the Ninepenny Kings, allowing Petyr to be raised as a ward in Riverrun, where he became close friends with the Tully sisters.
As such, Jon Arryn had no reason to doubt him, especially after Petyr had increased the tax revenue in Gulltown tenfold during his tenure as its tax collector, further solidifying Arryn's faith in his capabilities.
So, for this crucial mission, Petyr Baelish was chosen to give it a try.
"Naturally, our cooperation would be aimed at addressing the greatest threat faced by both Braavos and the Iron Throne, Your Grace."
Petyr weighed his words carefully as he looked at the Sea Lord of Braavos, lying in his bed.
He constantly reminded himself that he was speaking to one of the most powerful individuals in the world.
"The Mad King's son."
"Viserys Targaryen."
"His presence has already far exceeded Braavos' expectations, hasn't it?"
"He has dragons; the mountain ranges won't be enough to stop their advance."
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone