章節 61: Chapter 61
(Ferrago Antaryon, Braavos)
"Can we trust the Blackfyres to do their job correctly, your Excellency?"
"No, but only they would be brave enough to do so," Ferrago responded half-heartedly.
He had very little trust in those lizards, even more so when they only consisted of an eunuch, a woman, and an overly ambitious brat. Unfortunately, outside of the Warlocks and the Dothraki, there were very few people willing to go against Mudd so openly.
"Has the request been sent yet?"
"Of course, your Excellency, the Mudd King has yet to respond to our envoy."
"Good, we just need to bring him here, and that shouldn't be too difficult considering his past actions against the Dothraki."
"Is it wise to allow those savages so close to the City? Would it not be more prudent to let them besiege a dependent of ours?" Tormo asked, baffled by the risk they were taking.
"If we use a dependent, it would be hardly enough to draw the Mudd king's attention. No, only Braavos being directly 'threatened' could force him to take action." He explained.
Still, the boy looked incredibly resistant to the idea, rightfully worried about the risk they were taking with these plans.
"Tormo you understand how important the coming days will be, right?" Looking at his potential successor with piercing eyes, wanting to test his resolve.
Sure enough, the man dared not look at him straight, instead averting his gaze. "I understand, we are paving the way to a better Braavos, a free Braavos."
He snorted at the lack of passion and belief in the nobleman, it was obvious he had no confidence in the plan to rid the world of this scourge. It seemed that he would have to get rid of him once all of this was completed.
"It's good that you understand the importance of what we are doing. For Braavos to truly be free, we cannot be constrained by our past, rather we must break these chains and forge our own path."
It was unfortunate that he needed this unreliable fool at the moment, the wealth of the Fregar family was necessary to fund the ridiculous costs that have been piling up these past few years.
"You may leave Tormo, close the door on your way out." Dismissing the boy for now.
The nobleman lowered his head politely before swiftly making his exit, the hurried pace indicating just how unnerved he was in the Sealord's presence.
Ferrago did not react whatsoever to this little farce, well aware of the fear he inspired among the Braavosi elites. Fear kept them in check and his influence drew them into his circle.
They were like vultures, seeking a free meal. Unfortunately for them, Ferrago would not allow them to feast without paying a sufficient enough price.
He was sure the boy would keep mum about their true goal if only to keep his family safe. As long as he got rid of Mudd and his beasts, no one would be able to stand his way and the thin veneer of politeness would no longer be needed.
Getting the Dothraki on his side wasn't particularly difficult, especially since that… unnerving figure had appeared within their ranks. Their veneration of him troubled the seasoned politician, but necessity demanded tolerance.
No matter how peculiar their leader happened to be, he could only grit his teeth and accept it. The real issue was just how badly he needed them.
Without the Dothraki to shore up support he would be solely reliant on the Golden Company and his inexperienced supporters, who could be overwhelmed if Erlend's supporters caught wind of the plot.
His men were used to intimidating their enemies with superior equipment and looking professional. Truthfully, Braavos had always relied on the Banners to maintain its military might.
Another reason for why the Sealords of the past had always attempted to reduce the prominent House's influence and remove that annoying reliance.
Whilst they had finally gotten their independence, that meant little when the soldiers weren't up to par. It would take decades if not centuries to build a force capable of matching the same might the Banner had.
The faceless men had been oddly silent, Ferrago half-expected them to come after him, but no such thing had happened yet. As the days passed by, he couldn't help but fear that they would come for him, ready to end him for his actions.
This undoubtedly troubled him greatly, if he was to take full control over the city, then they had to be dealt with. They and the Iron Bank. Nothing needed to be said on just how difficult such a task would be, seeing as they were core pillars of the city.
At the least, once Erlend and his beasts were dead, such a task could be potentially doable. Taking advantage of the chaos to deal a lethal blow to their power, perhaps even enough to end them in one blow, should the gods will it.
"You should've kept yourself secluded in the Twilight Isles boy and perished quietly just as your ancestors did. Your ambition will make you regret ever stepping off it."
…
(Benjen Stark, Winterfell)
Benjen was troubled by the recent reports he had received from beyond the wall.
The King had been sending supplies and support to the Watch since his crowning. The crowning being a unique event in itself, considering that the King had crowned himself and made it clear all his successors would do the same.
Something about a King not needing anyone to confirm their ascendence.
Neither the event nor the implications of his actions mattered to the Stark lord, what worried him was that the King had shown remarkable interest in the lands beyond the wall, and he was unsure of how to convince his liege against such a campaign.
There was no denying that his predecessors had attempted to expand northwards, especially after the coming of the Andals, wanting to strengthen the isolated Kingdom and increase its strength. Unfortunately, just as the Arryns had failed to pacify the mountain clansmen, the Starks found it near impossible to do the same to their wildling neighbors.
The irony that the First Men were just as incapable of expanding northwards just as the Andals had been in conquering them did not escape Benjen. It was further exacerbated by just how little they knew about the lands beyond their reach.
Then there was a troubling feeling in his gut, one that warned him of a danger they could not contend with, one lurking even further beyond where no man had walked. There was so much to lose in such a campaign and Benjen was unsure of how he could convince the King against it.
Enemies that could not be subdued and enemies whose existence remained a mystery.
"You're worried." A pleasant sound rang in his ears, he did not need to turn to identify its owner.
Seating herself across from him, his wife looked at him with a warm gaze, so different from the one she gave him when they first met.
"I suspect the King intends to conquer the lands beyond." He admitted.
Her dark eyes looked partially bemused, "Not even the Starks of old at their height of power could do such a thing. Do his dragons give him the confidence to surpass them?"
"I'm not sure to be honest. Of what I know, dragons don't do well beyond the wall, if the reports on Queen Alysanne's dragon are too believed."
"His dragons are different, you said so. Regardless of what he plans, we must show our support if the North is to remain prosperous. There is no denying that our recent success has a lot to do with his favor."
"I know… I just don't want to pointlessly throw away the lives of honest Northerners for a potentially failed conquest. Being too ambitious is never a good thing, sometimes it's more important to know when to be content with what you have."
Taking his hand into her palms, his wife began tracing her fingers on it gently. "Do as expected, but never exceed what is demanded. Show him your loyalty when you can, but advise him when you think he is being unwise."
"If the southerners were to hear you speak, they'd be outraged by them. I dare say they'll claim your words are treasonous." Benjen chuckled.
"Let them do so, they will play their little games as they always do. Knowing what we know about him, I'm sure the King will appreciate your honesty more than any flowery words they could spout."
That was a fair point, Erlend did not seem like a man to care much for flattery, there was a reason that of all the great lords, only he and Stannis had managed to earn the King's trust.
Doran had the chance to do the same, but his pride and ambition prevented him from doing so.
"One can only hope so and only time will tell."
…
"Father, when will you head south?"
Jon's voice broke his concentration on the work laid on his desk, as he raised his head to see his son looking at him curiously.
You know, when he asked Jon to befriend the crown prince, he hadn't expected a second friendship reminiscent of his older brother's relationship to blossom. Not to say it was a terrible thing, but he couldn't help worrying.
Granted it was a trio instead of a duo this time, but it was pretty much the same.
His son had a solid friendship with the future King and the future Lord Paramount of the Stormlands, great. Terrible news, his son was showing too much interest in the South as a result.
From personal experience, he could confidently say that was potentially the worst thing a Stark could do. Very little good came out of sticking their heads into that hornet's nest.
"Not anytime soon, to my knowledge. The North needs me at the moment and the King has not requested my presence." Benjen said.
The look of abject disappointment did trouble Benjen, but he kept a stoic face.
That look quickly changed to one of nervous trepidation, "Dacey says I'll have to pick a wife soon." Jon tentatively said.
Oh… Now he understood why Jon was interested in the South. The boy wanted to delay that troublesome choice.
Benjen didn't mind who Jon ended up picking, as long as she came from the North and from a major House. Even that Mormont girl Dacey wouldn't be too much trouble. He'd need Bethany's opinion on the matter, she was far more knowledgeable on that topic.
Brandon has never been given a choice, and his father had never made any mention of his or Ned's marriage options. Still, he decided to be honest with his son.
"I wouldn't say you need to make a choice now, you still have time before you need to make a decision, Jon." Giving a reassuring look to his son, "Though make sure you ask your mother for her opinion on the matter."
The boy nodded seriously at him, aware that such an important decision could not be made alone and without the Stark Matriarch's opinion, whoever he picked would take her position once Jon became Lord.
"So how have your lessons with Ser Rodrik been going?" That quickly shifted his son's attention to a safer topic.
"According to Ser Rodrik, I'll be able to match even fledgling knights soon enough," Jon said cheerfully, proud of his impressive achievement.
"Don't get too comfortable, Jon. Your talent is impressive but you must understand that even the most minor of things can influence the chance of victory."
This got him a disgruntled look from his son much to his amusement, "I know father, Ser Rodrik said as much after handing me my hide."
"Good, don't get complacent. Always strive for improvement."
Benjen was proud of his son, but there was no reason to let him get a big head about it. Pride and haste had gotten Brandon killed, he had no wish to see the same happen to his son.
…
(Stannis Durrandon, Storm's End)
Recently both Evenfall and Greenstone had sent ravens warning him of rising pirate activity near the stepstones. Their ships were intercepted, and local merchants were forced to hand over precious cargo to the detestable raiders.
To say Stannis was furious was an understatement, these recent raids easily mirrored the events that occurred during King Viserys I's reign. If his suspicions were correct then soon enough the pirates would begin kidnapping noblewoman as they had done in the past.
He'd already sent the reports to the King, hoping that Erlend would send the eastern Royal fleet and put a stop to it before things got out of hand. Ravens had yet to be sent back, but he was confident that the King would approve his request.
There was also faint suspicion in his mind that the three daughters were behind these attacks, their ambitions finally getting the better of them. Frankly, Stannis did not understand what these idiots had to gain from all this, obviously, they still had Volantis threatening them eastwards and rearing for a new war, yet they were foolish enough to provoke him.
Even the Golden Company had grown restless lately and they've made several suspicious movements recently. A troubling concept, since in his eyes they were the true threat in the East.
He had no desire for the Blackfyre's lackeys making another attempt for Westeros and a now non-existent throne. The Stormlands did not need to suffer for their baseless ambitions.
The only silver lining in all of this was that Dorne was finally beginning to integrate properly back into Realm. It appeared that Doran had finally seen reason and decided that aggravating the Crown wasn't worth it.
Getting up from his desk, Stannis headed towards the balcony.
Directly below he watched Steffon sparring with some of the sworn knights, while others watched the young lordling with a keen eye. Often giving advice when needed or when a flaw made itself clear.
Stannis nodded approvingly of this, he knew his son was somewhat proud of his prowess, but there was no reason to stop continuously improving, the advice of these veteran warriors was proving invaluable for that.
He was vaguely aware that both Erlend and Benjen did the same, except the King tended to personally train his son, something that surprised him.
His duties left very little time to personally see to his son's training, and he suspected it was the same for Benjen. Yet, the King never shied away from making time for his children, an admirable trait if he had to admit.
How he did it was a mystery, and Stannis greatly wished he was able to do the same. The Durrandon lord cherished what little time he could spend with his family and he would have loved to spend more time with them.
Seven knows his relationship with his later elder brother could have been much better had the both of them actually tried. Robert wasn't an idiot, but he could be so blind sometimes.
Taking one last look at his son, Stannis made his way back to his desk. After all, time waited for no man.
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