章節 104: Illoryan 1
For most young secondborn noblemen or merchant sons who took on the role of being a Bravo, it was a short-lived thing, either one received an injury that prevented them from fighting any more, died, or were good enough to win your fights, but got bored of it eventually and retired to a comfortable life in one of the Free Cities.
Those who found they had a true passion for fighting often found their way into sellsword companies as officers and the like, though most of those died as a result of Battle being quite a different beast to dueling.
Illoryan liked to think he was better than them, but really, he knew that he had just never found a role or place worth settling into for any given length of time. He hadn't even really been a Bravo in years, but something like it, something of his own creation.
He had been born in Tyrosh, the third son of a minor merchant there, and chosen to be a Bravo so as to avoid weighing down his father or brothers. He had found his talents quickly surpassed those of his Tyroshi rivals though, eclipsing the skills of even Volyano, who had been considered the best of the city when he began, only three years after he had taken up arms.
Unsatisfied by his victory, he had set sail to Braavos, seeking to challenge the water dancers.
He had been beaten, of course, the first time he had tried his luck against them, but he had recovered and learned, and in learning, he had come to reject Water Dancing. It was the best that could be done with the thin sword of a Bravo, but his build was too thick and muscular to make the best use of it. All the water dancers were thin, lanky and tall, and he was only of average height and build. Whatever his skills he would never join their number.
So with a new sword of Westerosi make in hand, he had left Braavos, gone east to Lorath and served as a bodyguard while he worked on his style, but had to flee south after he was caught sleeping with his employer's daughter.
He had fought as a mercenary in the wars of the disputed lands, even learned how to ride there as a cavalryman, though his style was not suited to cavalry, before traveling the Demon Road to fight in the pits of Meereen.
At first, it had been great, the constant fighting, the glory of the crowd, the monsters they brought against him from the jungles of Sothoryos. He honed his style in the arena, sharpened his blade.
But eventually it grew dull, there were only so many types of monster and man, and the pay was dogshit for how dangerous the fights were. He could barely afford to keep his gear kept and his horse and self-fed, much less settle into a house or anything.
Which was why when word came through that some Yunaki'i noblewoman wanted to hire a sword-teacher, and was willing to pay an absurd amount, he had packed his bag, mounted his horse, and rode south down the old-road of Ghis.
Yunkai, when he arrived, immediately struck him with how boring and monotone it all looked. Yellow bricks and pyramids everywhere, with none of the architectural splendor of the Free Cities, nor the colorful fanfare of Meereen.
It did not strike him as particularly appealing, despite its reputation for excellent Bed-Slaves. One rivaled only by Lys.
Still, he made his way to the Pyramid of house Sharna, heedless of the odd gazes which he received along the way. He made no attempt to disguise his status as a foreigner after all, and the clothes of even a bastard-bravo like himself were still fancier and more layered than most seen in the lands of the Ghiscari. He had long ago grown used to the heat, however.
At the door of the pyramid, he was greeted by a guard in serious looking gear, but who he could tell was likely a slave soldier and no professional. "What business do you have with the house of Sharna?" The guard asked warily, as he dismounted.
"Why, my good man, I had heard you hiring swordsmanship teachers, and I happened to be in Meereen at the time, so I thought I would come and see if I was worth the job in your Master's eyes."
The Guard eyed him up and down for a moment, before nodding.
"Very well, go to the third level of the pyramid, through the door on the right, and the guards will direct you from there. I will have your horse taken to the stables."
"Certainly." He said, handing the slave the reigns as he made for the stairs. "I will be off then."
He was greeted by another guard just inside the pyramid and led on through a veritable labyrinth of twisting stone passages into a wide-open room, with small windows facing the outside. There, two figures sat, both younger than he had expected, the older one, a girl immediately perked up as he entered, while the boy simply sat beside her, combing her hair. He noted the slave brands on the Boy's shoulders.
"Ah, are you another swordmaster?" The girl said. "I had not expected any more today?"
"Indeed my lady," he said, tapping the tip of his handle in what would have been a challenge to another Bravo. "Indeed I am Illoryan, of Tyrosh. I presume you were the one requesting sword-masters then?"
"Indeed," the young girl said. "I wish Someone to teach Viserys here how to fight." She gestured to the boy beside her, and he had to suppress his desire to roll his eyes. It was some spoiled rich br- "Did you say Viserys? Viserys Targaryen?" He asked, the name coming fresh to his memory as his mind raced. He had seen the boy once before from afar, in Braavos, and the resemblance was there, though his dress and hygiene were radically different. The Red witch's little "Servant" was in Yunkai then? Had she really sold off the last of the Targaryens? It seemed to contradict her character, which was largely thought to be that of a witch from children's tales. "How did he come into your possession?"
"A gift to my father." The girl said as if that was final, and for now, it was. He cared more for her money than for his curiosity "Now, what do you know about fighting?"
"Quite a bit." He said honestly. "I was the best duelist in Tyrosh, and since then I have done well for myself in Braavos and Meereen."
The girl stared at him for a moment. If she was impressed it didn't show on her face. before turning to the boy behind her. "Do you like him Viserys?"
The boy nodded in return, his facial language confusing in a way that Illoryan could not quite grasp. It was not as if he particularly cared, what mattered was the gold on the table.
"That is good enough, he has liked none of the others."
The swordmaster smiled at that. The last dragon had good taste at least.
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