Chapter 154: Circle of Conspiracy II
Tyrion waited until the council chamber doors had closed.
The sound of retreating footsteps slowly disappeared into the halls beyond. Ethan had taken the guards with him, leaving Artos and Tyrion alone with an abandoned cup of wine and a table covered in reports.
Artos did not speak immediately.
He walked toward the nearest window and looked down upon King's Landing. The city appeared almost peaceful from the Red Keep. Smoke rose from thousands of chimneys, merchants filled the streets and ships moved slowly along the Blackwater.
From this height, one could not see the armed men gathering beneath septs.
Tyrion poured himself more wine.
"Lord Artos, I believe You have a suspicion for gold, I would like to hear about it. If you don't mind that is." he said.
Artos smiled" Matter of fact, I do. It's very obvious, and you do too."
"My father."
Artos glanced back at him."Aye"
Tyrion raised his cup. "It's not very hard to guess. You have angered him on too many occasions. Me being here, Trials? , Taxes you plan, and many more. Too many things to say really."
"The word you should look is We, Tyrion.We have angered him, Tyrion."
"A tragedy for us both."
Artos returned to the table. He pushed one of Ethan's reports toward Tyrion.
Artos sighs"Tragedy? No, more like endless frustrations, One thing I have to say he is relentless. This time we have good trouble on our hands. Old knights, Suspended gold cloaks, Former royal guards and Men removed after I became Hand. It's a lot of trouble"
"Men with grievances against you." Tyrion said.
"Aye, And now all of them suddenly have weapons, food and gold."
"My father possesses enough gold and reason. So yeah it could be him "
"Could be ? It is him. I don't think anyone else has the balls and guts to do this. " Artos knows it is getting more complex as a conspiracy as the time it passes.
Tyrion shook his head "But we don't have any proof, We can't just accuse him. He is Lord Paramount of Westerlands and Father in Law of our King. What we need is patience."
Artos sips his cup wine " I would have agreed if it was something else, But is an army in the capital. I can't wait much. At the right time and right information ,I will order the slaughter. It might hurt some innocents but we can't have an armed anarchy at our King's Rule."
Tyrion shook his head the horror it would entail " So you think a mass slaughter is the answer to our problems."
Artos made a serious face " If it comes to that, it comes to that. Better thier heads than ours."
Tyrion sighs knowing he can't persuade him anymore. Man has mind made up.
Braavos
Music filled the Palace of the Sealord.
The great hall had been transformed since Bjorn first entered it. Hundreds of lamps burned along its walls, throwing golden light across pale stone and tall windows. Long tables carried food from half the known world—northern venison, Braavosi shellfish, Pentoshi cheeses, summer fruits, spiced fish and enough wine to drown a warhorse.
Banners hung from the galleries above.
The purple sails of Braavos stood beside the grey wolf of House Stark and the new banner of House Startos. The sight of his own colours among those ancient symbols still felt strange to Bjorn.
He had expected a feast.
He had not expected half of Braavos and free Cities.
Merchants, bankers, keyholders, ship captains and noble families crowded the hall. Some had travelled from Pentos, Lorath and Myr. Others represented trading houses whose ships had carried Artos's goods for years.
Every one of them wanted to meet his eldest son.
Bjorn had shaken so many hands that his fingers had begun to hurt.
"This one is Lord Bjorn of House Startos," one merchant said to another. "Lord of Sea Dragon Point."
"And eldest son of Lord Artos," the second added.
They always added that part.
Bjorn did not resent it. His father's name had opened the hall to him. He would have been a fool to pretend otherwise.
But he wanted them to remember Bjorn as well.
So he listened when they spoke about ports. He asked questions about timber, iron and safe waters. He remembered names, even when three different men seemed determined to introduce themselves at once.
Aldric had prepared him well.
Do not promise anything after the third cup of wine.
Never insult a merchant's ship.
Never believe a man who says a contract is merely a formality.
And if someone says Artos once agreed to a particular price, demand proof.
The last lesson had already saved Bjorn twice.
Lord Valen appeared beside him holding a silver cup.
Bjorn looked across the crowded hall.
Valen raised an eyebrow. "The night is young and you already tired. Enjoy yourself Bjorn."
Bjorn smiled. "Can I even relax myself here. It seems one I moment I relax himself, I will make a loss or offend someone. It just seems even for a moment I can't down my guard. All are foxes here."
Lord Valen laughed. " I know, it's overwhelming in some ways. You will get used to it. In these matters, I must say your Father was a different, You and Aldric are charismatic but Artos was a different man in these matters. He didn't bother most of the times with these matters, but still smart enough to catch others off guard."
Bjorn laughed. " Aye, Sounds like him. I still don't know how he does that. It seems a mystery to me."
"Experience son , experience. Different circumstances and different growth. Let's go. I will introduce you to some more old Foxes of the game."
Valen placed a hand briefly upon his shoulder before moving to greet a group of bankers near the central table.
Bjorn had barely taken another drink when a voice spoke behind him.
"So this is the wolf's eldest cub."
Bjorn turned.
An old merchant stood before him, dressed in deep green silk. He was broad without being fat, his beard trimmed closely and streaked with white. Two heavy rings decorated each hand, but unlike many men in the hall, he wore no jewels around his neck.
His eyes were lively, amused and dangerous.
Bjorn recognised him from Aldric's lessons, though the name took a moment to return.
He was one of Artos's oldest Braavosi associates—and once the greatest commercial rival of Illyrio Mopatis.
The old merchant inclined his head.
"Lord Bjorn."
"Magister Vex."
A servant offered them fresh cups. The magister took one and examined Bjorn over its rim.
"You look like him."
"I hear that often."
"Not only the face. You stand as though the room belongs to you, even while trying to understand why everyone keeps looking in your direction."
Bjorn glanced around. Several guests immediately pretended they had not been watching.
"Father truly knew all these people?"
"Knew them, fought them, traded with them, insulted them and occasionally saved their lives." Lysandro Vex drank. "Sometimes all in the same evening."
Bjorn laughed.
The magister seemed pleased.
"I met your father before Braavos began calling him Lord Artos, just after his mercenary days. In the very same auction he met Lady Seraphine." he said. "He was young, angry and possessed just enough coin to be dangerous."
The answer drew Bjorn closer.
Artos rarely spoke about those years in detail. He told stories of ships, sword fights and arguments with merchants, but only when the mood suited him. Whenever his children asked serious questions, he found some reason to discuss something else.
"What did he do here?" Bjorn asked.
The magister's smile widened.
"Just some business," the old man said. "Though before a merchant, he was the most successful mercenary Commander,He fought with every hard and tough enemies. Unsullied, Dothraki, Mercenary Companies. That was part of his charm."
Bjorn took a drink.
Vex smiled.
"Those were profitable years. Especially after Dothraki War. I was taking care of the Pentoshi matters and worked with your Father in those days. A war that is still brings profits enough to count."
The music changed, becoming faster. Guests moved aside as several dancers entered the centre of the hall.
Magister seems to know a lot and Bjorn was curious a lot, It seems Artos , his father has done a lot of work with Lysandro Vex and he knew a lot about him. So they talked for a very long time and grew close with him.
The magister leaned closer.
"Did he ever tell you that Braavos named a street after him?"
Bjorn nearly choked on his wine.
"What?"
"A street. In a manner of speaking. It's not an official name but everyone calls it that."
"What is it called?"
The old man's eyes shone with amusement.
"The Bloody Street."
Bjorn stared at him.
For several heartbeats, he could not decide whether the man was jesting.
"Why? What happened?"
"A disagreement." Lysandro was ready to explain more but some one came by.
"Bjorn."
Aldric appeared beside them, looking far too serious for someone surrounded by music and wine.
"I am sorry to interrupt Magister Vex but it seems Grandfather wants Bjorn for a time."
Lysandro "No worries Lord Aldric, Though I would have to say Lord Bjorn is an interesting company. It seems all Children of the Wolf are."
Aldric smiled and inclined his head politely towards the magister, then caught Bjorn by the arm.
"Come."
Aldric pulled Bjorn away before he could ask another question.
They crossed the hall, passing groups of merchants and nobles who bowed or raised their cups toward them.
Bjorn waited until they were beyond the old man's hearing.
"Did you know Father has a street named after him?"
Aldric did not slow.
"It is not named after him as per say but after his actions. A very famous story around here."
Bjorn smiles"Now you are getting more and more curious."
Aldric got serious and be a little silent about it. " You should be little less loud about. The story may be about Valen's rise but it was a bloody rise. Many old powers don't like to mention it. A storm of blood caused by power outside of Bravos that laid a foundation of current power. You know how the optics are. "
Bjorn drinks at that information.
Aldric smiles at his brother "But if you are that curious, I will take you there. It's very popular story around here. Almost a folklore now. But for know we must go and meet with grandfather. There are Iron Bank officials waiting for you there."
The feast continued but the impression were made and created.
Artos Stark's eldest son had his father's strength and appetite for danger. The younger possessed his patience and growing skill with merchants.
Separately, they were promising.
Together, they might become something far more dangerous.
The merchant finished his wine and looked toward the banners hanging above the feast.
Across the Narrow Sea, gold was moving through King's Landing. Old enemies were forming new friendships, and men such as Tywin Lannister were beginning to test how firmly Artos held the capital.
Here in Braavos, the brothers are meeting the allies, rivals and secrets he had left behind.
The circle around House Stark was growing.
So was the one forming against it.
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