Three Years Later — 289 AC
Rummaro and Tesho were both apprentices at the Citadel.
It was obvious to anyone who knew them that Rummaro was not as sharp as his friend.
He had already failed the ravenry examinations four times in a row.
At this rate, he might never earn his chain, never ride to a lord's castle and hear himself addressed as Maester.
Worst of all were the mockeries of the archmaesters.
Especially Archmaester Verlyn, known among the students as Vinegar for his biting tongue.
Verlyn decided who was worthy of a link in their chain..And his ridicule always cut deep.
But even that was not the worst of it.
"Rummaro, let's go to the tavern!"
Lost in frustration, Rummaro started at the sound of Tesho's voice.
"Tesho, we've gone drinking three times already this week. Where are you getting all this coin?"
Both of them came from modest families.
The Citadel had a writing desk where apprentices helped common folk draft letters.
The pay was miserable. A few copper stars a month at best.
Yet lately Tesho had been spending freely.
Tesho smiled mysteriously.
"I'll tell you later."
"Still going to the Jasmine?"
"Yes," Rummaro admitted shyly.
They walked to the Jasmine Tavern near the Citadel.
The owner was a woman in her forties. The worst of Rummaro's troubles stemmed from her.
The tavern keeper's daughter was soon to come of age.
Her name was Karen.
Her mother had announced that Karen's maidenhead would be auctioned for one golden dragon.
Karen was sweet and lively.
Rummaro loved talking with her. Loved her teasing laughter. Most of all, he adored her small, delicate feet.
She often pressed them against his belly to warm them.
'If only I had one golden dragon.' He imagined whisking Karen away, buying sheep, raising children.
His mind was simple.
He failed to grasp that selling a maidenhead was not the same as selling a daughter.
In his head, once a man lay with a woman, they were husband and wife.
They entered [The Jasmine].
The tavern was small.
A singer strummed in one corner. Free riders drank loudly. Apprentices like themselves filled the benches.
"Two large mugs of cider!" Tesho called.
The tavern keeper answered.
Tesho pulled Rummaro into a quieter corner. "Six months until the next examination. How are you preparing?"
"The ravens won't listen," Rummaro sighed. "I'll fail again."
They were both nearing twenty. If Rummaro failed again, marriage and farming might be his only path.
Their cider arrived.
Karen's younger brother Jesse brought it.
"Where's your sister?" Rummaro asked.
Usually Karen served them. Her mother understood that her daughter's presence brought coin.
Perhaps a wandering hand might stray.
Perhaps a silver stag would be offered.
It was business.
Before Jesse could answer, Tesho did. "Her mother's keeping her hidden. Waiting for bids."
"How… how much?"
Rummaro instinctively reached for his purse.
He had been saving.
A golden dragon equaled about two hundred silver stags. He had fewer than a hundred.
"Last week," Tesho said, "a singer offered one hundred sixty silver stags."
"And?"
"Her mother agreed."
Rummaro went pale.
"But the fool claimed each of his songs was worth five silver stags and offered to sing for a month instead. She threw him out."
Rummaro exhaled in relief.
"You want her maidenhead, don't you?"
"Yes. I want to marry her."
Tesho shook his head.
He still did not understand. Losing her maidenhead did not mean marriage.
"There's a way," Tesho said quietly. "Risky. But profitable. You could have your gold soon."
"What way?"
"Selling books."
"Selling books? From where?"
"The Citadel."
"That's theft!"
"Lower your voice!"
Tesho scanned the tavern before leaning closer. "Someone's buying books. Almost any book. We borrow them…"
"We must return them."
"Not whole," Tesho whispered. "We tear out dozens of pages from each. No one notices."
Rummaro hesitated.
Tesho added the final temptation.
"He pays by weight. Silver equal to the paper."
Tesho shook his heavy purse. "I've made one hundred thirty silver stags in less than a month."
Rummaro's heart pounded.
"If we're caught… I'll be sent to the Wall."
Tesho scoffed. "Is Karen worth a golden dragon? If I had it tonight, she'd be mine."
Rummaro flushed red with anger.
Tesho softened his tone. "If we do this together, you can use the money first."
That night, Rummaro knocked at Karen's door.
"Karen. It's me."
The scent of jasmine drifted out.
When she opened the door and saw him, she smiled and threw herself into his arms.
She preferred a familiar face. Someone gentle.
Rummaro was ideal.
Outside the window, Tesho listened briefly, then left with a satisfied smile. He knew Rummaro was his now.
Across the Citadel, others like them were at work.
Book thieves.
The Citadel's libraries had accumulated knowledge for thousands of years. Many volumes were worth printing.
Viserys's agents paid generously for fragments.
It was revenge for the Citadel's past meddling. But more than that. The Citadel's power lay in its books.
If Viserys wished to weaken Oldtown and its maesters, he would begin with their texts.
With the printing press, he controlled interpretation.
The histories could be reshaped. The commentaries rewritten. The inconvenient passages removed.
What remained would favor House Targaryen.
And slowly, patiently, the foundation of the old order would rot from within.
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