Bab 14: Viserys VII
Viserys
Braavos
The Titan roared, its deep, booming sound reverberating through the city, echoing off the walls and canals. He had found it a novelty the first few times he came to Braavos, but now, as he stayed for longer periods of time in the city, he had come to find it annoying. It was just too loud.
'Why don't they just lower the volume or something?' he thought irritably.
He shook his head and concentrated on the small island, one of many in the lagoon that Braavos was built on; it was becoming more visible as the oarsman guided the boat toward it. The island housed several large and grand buildings. These structures were adorned with intricate carvings and inscriptions, many depicting motifs related to winemaking and brewing. One building had a façade covered in grapevine carvings, each leaf and grape meticulously detailed. Another had scenes of wine barrels being filled and carried.
Most of the city's winemakers, brewers, and merchants lived on this island. His destination was the Vintners and Brewers Guild, also located on the island.
Behind him sat Alton and four other knights. Alton was to act as his guardian this time around to meet with the guildmaster and other members. The newly knighted man looked nervous as he stared at the approaching island.
Last time he was here, he had come with Ser Willem. But Willem was not well. Not since six months ago when he had a bad fall. While not bedridden, he was not able to travel now, so he was confined to the valley overseeing everything there.
"Relax, Al," he said, seeing Alton's nervous expression.
"I'm fine," Alton replied.
The other knights laughed.
He turned his attention to them. "Oh, do any of you fine gentlemen wish to take Alton's place then?" he asked with a smile.
That stopped their laughter.
He turned his attention back to the island again.
Four years had passed since they left Westeros, and in those four years, he had managed to accomplish most of what he had intended when he left Dragonstone. They had a safe place to live in the valley in the Braavosi coastlands, the royal fleet was saved with an acceptable number of ships remaining loyal, and Robert Baratheon, though aware that he, along with Rhaenys and Daenerys, were alive, had not been able to locate them.
Even the Martells were unsuccessful in that regard. Though recent reports suggested this might change soon, for now, they were safe.
His most significant achievement, however, was the success of starting a business in Braavos. He was able to exceed his own expectations.
He had managed to manufacture whisky. It took him a while to get it right, but he was successful. Renaming it firewine he approached the Brewers and Vintners Guild so that he could sell it in the city, but they rejected him, which, in the end, turned out to be a great boon.
They claimed it tasted disgusting and would damage the guild's reputation if they sold it.
This setback only emboldened him. Remembering the luxury brands from his previous life and how much money they made by marketing exclusivity and prestige, he decided to package firewine as an exclusive elite liquor. He worked meticulously on the branding, creating ornate, high-quality bottles with intricate designs. The blacksmiths they brought from Dragonstone were a huge help in that regard.
Using his contact in the Iron Bank, he arranged for the firewine to be gifted to certain wealthy individuals in the city. The gifts were presented as rare and valuable, piquing the curiosity and interest of the elite. He had to be patient, but slowly, the firewine began to gain popularity among the wealthy.
The limited supply and the high price, especially for older batches, added to its exclusivity. He introduced different aged varieties of firewine with the oldest and rarest being the most expensive. This created a hierarchy of desirability and value. The idea was simple: the rarer and older the firewine, the more prestigious it became. He even sold a single bottle from the first batch for an eye-watering price.
He arranged for private tasting events for the elite, turning each tasting into a lavish affair that further cemented firewine's status as a drink for the wealthy and powerful.
By controlling the narrative and maintaining a tight supply, he had made Sereno firewine into the drink of the wealthy. He also planned to start selling ice too if he could figure out how ice houses work. Firewine needs ice, after all; it was the only thing that was missing.
His other source of revenue came through the fleet. He used the ships that remained loyal to him to start a shipping company. He had started small with just four ships, taking jobs from independent merchants who were not affiliated with the powerful Shipping Guild. Using the compass, the captains were able to find and travel through new sea routes that were not controlled by the guild. These new routes allowed him to provide his clients with faster and less expensive service.
As the company gained popularity he slowly began increasing the number of ships. New merchants started hiring his ships as word spread of the company and its efficiency and reliability.
He even began trading himself; his recent venture involved trading marble from the Vale. He had heard that one of his wealthy clients, a lover of firewine, was building a mansion in Andalos. Seizing the opportunity, he arranged to supply the marble, making a sizable profit.
This was the legal means by which he made money from his fleet. However, the story with the fleet in the south was a whole different matter. The fleet was primarily composed of warships, and was sent south to act as pirates or sell sails. Initially, reports indicated that the fleet had broken up, but a year after that, they were informed that half of the fleet had reformed under a group of captains and had taken control of an island in the Stepstones
Now the entire region was embroiled in chaos, with pirate lords, sell sails from the Free Cities, and his fleet all vying for supremacy. On Dragonstone, he had once had a vague plan of conquering the Stepstones and turning it into a profitable venture, similar to how the Caribbean was for Spain, cultivating sugar and other cash crops. Although he had initially disregarded the idea, the current state of anarchy in the Stepstones made it seem possible once again.
He gave his blessing to the captains of his fleet to pirate and conquer as much as they liked, with the understanding that they would send a portion of their booty back to him. This unconventional strategy not only provided a steady stream of income but also allowed him to exert some control over the chaotic region.
The anarchy in the Stepstones had other effects as well, creating opportunities he hoped that he could exploit today.
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As the oarsman expertly guided the boat to the dock, he stood up and disembarked, followed by Alton and the other knights. People walked about, dressed in expensive clothes that spoke of wealth and status. Barrels were being loaded and unloaded onto boats, with dockworkers shouting instructions and merchants haggling over prices. The air was filled with the sounds of arguing and laughter, mingled with the rich scents of wine and beer.
"We're getting some eyes on us," Maekar, one of the knights, observed.
"I told you not to wear those strange clothes," Alton said, casting a disapproving glance at him.
"Hey, this is my power suit. They're all just intimidated," he replied, smiling smugly.
He had asked the seamstresses in the valley to make him a normal suit, but it had come out looking like a mix of Victorian clothing and a normal business suit. It looked good, but something was slightly off.
"Now, you four can't come inside, so be on your best behavior outside. We don't want another Whispering Willy incident," he warned.
The five knights visibly shivered at the mention of that incident. "Yes, Your Grace," they answered in low voices.
"Now come," he said, taking the lead and walking toward the guildhall.
Arriving at the guildhall, he and Alton entered and were met by an attendant. Alton showed their invitation to the attendant, who quickly checked it and nodded.
"Welcome, Master Sereno. Please follow me," the attendant said, leading them through the hall.
The hall was richly adorned with tapestries depicting scenes of vineyards and brewing. The floors were polished marble, and the walls were lined with ornate wooden panels. They passed several members of the guild, who cast curious glances at them.
They were led to a small, elegantly furnished room where they were served wine and refreshments. The room was tastefully decorated with plush chairs and a small table set with fine porcelain and silverware. Richly colored drapes hung from the windows, letting in just enough light.
He took one of the porcelain bowls and examined it; this was only made in Yi Ti. He then turned his gaze to Alton, who was drinking some wine from a goblet.
'Yes, I could send him,' he thought, holding the porcelain bowl in his hands.
"What?" Alton asked, noticing his gaze on him.
"Do you like learning new languages, Al?" he asked.
"Well, I have always been good at it. Learned Valyrian so fast our maester was so impressed," Alton said proudly.
"Oh, ever think about learning a language from Yi Ti?" he asked, smirking.
"Yi Ti? Why would I want to do that?" Alton asked, confused as to why he would ever bring up a nation so far east.
Before he could answer, the attendant returned and led them to another room. As they walked through the hall, more guild members looked at them with curiosity. The hallway was lined with portraits of past guildmasters and other paintings of vineyards and grapes.
Arriving at a large door, the attendant told them to wait and went inside first, opening the door and closing it behind him. The attendant then came out and opened the door for them to enter, bowing as they passed.
He walked into the small room, his mind briefly blanking on the guildmaster's name.
'Ah, Alessio,' he remembered.
The room was small and had a large table at the end of it with chairs on both sides. There sat five men; he remembered the oldest being Guildmaster Alessio.
He was proven correct when the old man stood up and greeted them. "Master Sereno, welcome," Alessio said warmly.
"Guildmaster," he replied in return.
"This is my guardian, Alton…" He paused for a moment, having forgotten the fake surname they had decided on for Alton. "Alton of Tyrosh," he quickly said, making one up.
Alessio smiled and then introduced the others. "This is Janus Oro and Tomarro Dravenna, two master vintners, and Silvio Pyri and Marco Belario, master brewers."
"Pleased to meet everyone," he said respectfully.
"Please, sit. We have a lot to talk about," Alessio said, motioning to the chairs.
"Yes, we have, Guildmaster, yes we have," he said with a grin, taking his seat.
"We are glad that you decided to come, Master Sereno, and I commend you as well for taking such an interest in your family business at such a young age. You could have just sent your guardian here," Alessio said, clearly trying to flatter him.
"I think it's best to learn from experience," he answered, maintaining his composure.
"Oh yes, indeed," Alessio agreed. "Now, shall we get to what we are here for then?"
"Yes," Alton answered, his tone measured. "We were surprised to get your invitation, Guildmaster, considering how we parted last time."
"Yes, it was quite unfortunate how our last meeting transpired," Alessio said, a hint of regret in his voice. "But mistakes were made which I am sure we can rectify here and now."
"And what would that be?" Alton asked.
He sat there watching, knowing exactly what the guild wanted—they wanted control, which he was not going to give them easily. If he was going to do business with them, it would be on his terms.
"The way you have been selling firewine in the city is against guild laws," Alessio explained. "We want you to join the guild."
Silvio jumped in, "Firewine would have to go through the quality tests of the guild, and its prices would be controlled."
Tomarro added, "We will offer young Master Sereno an apprenticeship so he may learn our craft."
He looked at Alton, who remained stone-faced as they laid out their demands, while he tried not to laugh.
"Why should we accept these demands, Guildmaster?" Alton asked. "We already have a good number of clients, wealthy and powerful. If you ban the selling of firewine from the city, how do you think they will feel?"
"We are not banning firewine, only asking you to join the guild and follow the laws," Alessio replied calmly.
"And what would joining the guild entail exactly?" Alton questioned.
Alessio answered, "Joining the guild means adhering to our standards and regulations. Your firewine will undergo our quality tests to ensure it meets our criteria. Pricing will also be regulated to maintain fairness in the market."
"And the apprenticeship?" Alton pressed.
Tomarro interjected, "It's a formality. Master Sereno will gain invaluable knowledge about our craft, which will only enhance his skills and standing."
"And if we refuse?" Alton asked pointedly.
Alessio's expression remained calm. "Refusal would mean continued conflict with the guild, something I am sure neither of us desires."
"Cooperation benefits both parties," Janus began. "I am sure you wish for firewine to be sold in other Free Cities and even Westeros. With guild support, you will be able to do that."
"Joining the guild means access to the largest network of distributors in eastern Essos and Westeros. What more could you need?" Silvio said, looking bewildered by their reluctance.
"Your demands are too much. Our answer is—" Before Alton could finish, he placed a hand on him.
"Let's not be hasty, Alton," he said, his gaze turning to the five men.
"Yes, listen to your master," Silvio said smugly to Alton.
"Now, Guildmaster, master vintners, and brewers," he said, acknowledging them. "We came here to talk, to negotiate. So far, you have only made demands of us."
"They are more than we offer any other new member," Tomarro said.
"Yes, and for that, I am honored, but I believe we can come to an even more beneficial arrangement—something that I think would be very helpful to the problems the guild is facing."
"And that is?" Alessio asked.
"The shipping guild," he said, making eye contact with the guildmaster.
"The shipping guild? What of it?" Alessio asked.
"I know that you are in conflict with them—price hikes, late arrival of goods. They have a stranglehold over the city, and you are suffering because of it," he said.
"They claim they are increasing prices because of the anarchy in the Stepstones but we both know that is but a flimsy excuse to cover up for their greed"
He tapped Alton on the shoulder again, and Alton took some scrolls from his pockets and gave them to Alessio.
"Please read and tell me what you think," he said, leaning back in the chair.
'Hope this works,' he thought.
Alessio began to read through the scroll. "That is the testimony of all the merchants we have worked for over the last two years," Alton said.
"You will find some reputable names there," Alton added.
"You have access to faster sea routes?" Alessio asked, surprised.
"Yes," Alton confirmed.
The other four took the scroll from Alessio and read through it.
"As you can see, my ships are fast and reliable, and I offer them to you for a fair and discounted price if you agree to my terms," he said, trying to maintain a confident demeanor despite his heart beating in his chest.
"You barely have ten ships," Silvio contested.
"For now, yes," he replied. "I have many more, but you know what will happen if I add more than a certain number."
"The shipping guild," Alessio said, understanding. "You will make an enemy of them too."
"Yes, my master has many friends in Braavos, but not enough to take on the shipping guild," Alton said.
The five remained silent, looking at each other. Tomarro, he noted, had a smile on his face.
"What are your terms, Master Sereno?" Alessio asked.
"Access to the markets of other Free Cities and Westeros. I will retain exclusive rights to sell firewine in those markets."
"That is outrageous," Silvio said.
"He is not finished, Master Silvio," Alton said firmly, causing the man to calm down.
"Continue, Master Sereno," Alessio said, his face neutral.
"The firewine carrying my name should maintain its status as an expensive and prestigious product," he began. "You must help me ensure it remains exclusive and desirable in other markets as well."
"I will offer a lesser firewine for the guild to sell at a lower price; this you can sell under another name, and profits will be shared among us."
"I will join the guild and will offer you another drink."
"Another one," Silvio said in shock.
"Yes, a completely new product for the guild to sell," he finished.
"This is not proper," Alessio muttered.
"My master has offered you a very generous proposal, Guildmaster," Alton said.
There was silence for some time as the five considered his offer.
"Your proposal has merit, Master Sereno," Alessio said, breaking the silence, "but we need time to deliberate and confirm if your claims are true."
"Understandable," he said.
Alessio stood up, and so did everyone else.
"I hope we can come to an understanding, Guildmaster," he said sincerely.
"We will see, Master Sereno," Alessio said.
They left the guildhall and walked outside to where the others were waiting.
"Do you think they will accept?" Alton asked. "Perhaps we asked too much."
"Fortune favors the bold, Al. Now, come on, we have to buy that dress for Rhaenys and some sweets for Dany before going back to the manse."
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Kings Landing
Robert took a sip from his goblet, letting the fiery liquid flow down his throat.
"Arhhh," he roared, slamming the goblet down. He was getting used to this new wine—firewine, they called it. It was gifted to him by some copper counter from Braavos. Though he did not like the taste at first, he had come to enjoy the drink immensely. It was stronger than wine, a man's drink, they called it, created by some chap named Sereno.
He had ordered more of the firewine as it had become his favorite drink. The only problem he saw in it was the sigil this Sereno used—it reminded him of the fucking dragonspawn. Always a reminder that both Aerys' and Rhaegar's spawn were still alive and somewhere in Essos. The thought only fouled his mood further.
There was a knock at the door.
'Aha, the whores. Good, they will help a lot,' he thought.
'Or it could be Cersei,' he thought glumly.
"Bah, if it's Cersei, then Cersei," he muttered. "Come in," he bellowed, standing up with his goblet in hand.
It was not Cersei that entered, nor whores, but his little brother.
He sat down again, filling the goblet with firewine. "What is it, Renly?" Robert grumbled, not even looking up.
"It's his nameday," Renly said softly.
Robert took his goblet and drained it. "What of it?"
"I had hoped we could perhaps dine together tonight. I know you have stories of him, and I would like to hear them. He saved my—"
"I KNOW! YOU HAVE SAID IT A THOUSAND TIMES….HE SAVED YOUR LIFE! HE SAVED STORM'S END!" Robert's voice erupted in fury. He stood up, towering over Renly. His face was red, his eyes bloodshot.
Renly stood bravely against him, breathing heavily.
"GET OUT! Your king commands!" Robert bellowed.
Renly ran from the room with tears in his eyes.
Robert slumped back into his chair with a huff. The room was empty now, and the silence weighed heavily on him. He looked at the goblet in his hand and threw it aside with a growl of frustration, the firewine spilling over the wall and the floor.
Images flashed in his mind of him screaming orders at his brother.
"I am your king, and you will obey my orders, Brother. You will sail in a week. I don't care if the whole fleet is ready; make use of what you have."
"Do not test my patience further, Stannis. Prepare the fleet, and make ready to leave in a week. That is an order."
"Do not fail me, brother."
It was his fault. The memory of his brother always brought guilt and sorrow that he could not bear.
"Damn it, Renly," he muttered to himself. "I miss him too." The admission hung in the air, a quiet confession that no one else would hear.
He closed his eyes and leaned back, feeling the sting of regret deep in his chest. He had failed Stannis in so many ways, and tonight, he had failed Renly too.
"Tomorrow," he whispered to the empty room. "Tomorrow, I'll make it right." But the weight of his own failures and the bottle of firewine by his chair told him that it was easier said than done.
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Renly found himself sitting alone in the garden of Maegor's Holdfast, under a large tree, concealed from the pathway by hedgerows. His vision blurred with tears as he tried to wipe them away. He felt ashamed of his emotions; Stannis would never cry.
He heard someone approaching and turned to see who it was. He wished to be alone and was going to yell the person away, but his face brightened into a smile as he recognized the person.
"Ser Davos," Renly greeted the older man.
He had always liked Davos, ever since he had arrived on that little boat with his onions. Stannis had knighted the man for his service and, when Stannis left them to go to Dragonstone, he had made Davos swear to serve Renly himself.
"Are you well, milord?" the smuggler-turned-knight asked him.
"Yes, Ser. I am well," Renly lied.
Ser Davos gave a small chuckle. "You and your late brother share something, you know?"
Renly looked at the man, intrigued. What did they share beyond name and blood?
"You're both terrible liars, milord."
"Stannis never lied," Renly bit back.
"No. For the short time I knew your brother, he never once spoke a lie... mostly because he was horrible at it. I've spent most of my life with liars, and you learn to sense it. I never sensed that in your brother. Nor in you, for that matter."
Renly turned away from the Onion Knight, his sadness slowly dissipating. Perhaps he could be as good as Stannis. As strong, dutiful, and true.
"Thank you, Ser," Renly smiled as he turned to face his knight again. He was glad old Estermont had let the Onion Knight stay.
"It is my duty. I had also hoped to ask, milord, if he would do myself and my lady wife the honor of joining us for dinner."
"Yes," Renly said happily, getting up from the ground. Robert may not care for Stannis, but there were people who did.
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