Harald was similar to the Herald, though not as tall and with more delicate features. He wore his hair long, either tied back in a ponytail or secured with a narrow band around his forehead. A barely noticeable, thin scar marked his left cheek—a souvenir after the Battle of Blackwater, its lower end hidden by his narrow beard. He dressed like most knights: a cloak, a doublet or coat, trousers, boots, and a sword with a dagger at his belt.
Now we were standing on a small, tiled terrace perched on the edge of a cliff. A low stone railing separated it from the drop. I liked this place for the soft roar of the waves, the mournful cries of the gulls, and the quiet peace—despite the proximity of the Red Keep, people rarely came here. It was here that Herald taught me how to use a sword.
A storm was approaching the King's Landing, and the sea five yards below crashed noisily against the rocks. The waves grew steeper, darkened, and crested with white foam. The storm front was coming in from the east; on the horizon, everything was blue-black, pierced by frequent flashes of lightning. The wind freshened, carrying the sharp scent of seaweed and salt.
No one could overhear us—the entire terrace lay in plain view. Only thirty paces away, on the steps leading up to the Red Keep, Ser Meryn Trant and Herald Orm had stopped.
Herald toyed with his dagger, tossing it lightly from hand to hand, and looked perfectly calm. Ser Meryn, by contrast, frowned openly, making little effort to hide how poorly he took the king's distrust.
"I need your service, Harald," I began without preamble, having already come to know Orm fairly well.
"Whatever is in my power, Your Majesty."
"I need you to find several people and send them to the largest cities of Westeros—White Harbor, Oldtown, Gulltown, Lannisport, Highgarden… But first, for practice, to understand how things work, find them here, in King's Landing and the Red Keep. You should know absolutely everything about these places! What cargoes arrive at the port; what the common folk, craftsmen, and Gold Cloaks think and dream about; what mood reigns among the servants in the royal kitchens…"
"Gathering information and rumors?" Harald immediately grasped what was required of him.
"Yes. The Herald said that you knew everything that was going on in your castle and the surrounding area—and that you are very good at getting along with people."
"He exaggerates my merits," Orm smiled involuntarily.
"I don't think so. So, you must find reliable people and send them to all the major cities. The next step will be to establish the same kind of contacts in the Dreadfort, Winterfell, Sunspear, and Pyke, as well as in the nearest cities of Essos—Braavos, Pentos, Myr, Tyrosh, Lys, and Volantis."
"Um... Your Majesty, this is an enormous task and a tremendous responsibility!" he said, the wind ruffling his long hair as he tucked a loose strand behind his ear. "And I don't even know where to begin yet."
"I've had some time and already thought of a few things. I believe it will help you in the beginning." I walked along the railing, and Harald followed. "First, you should buy a shop or store in the city—preferably a wine shop. It will help conceal your activities, as wine is bought and sold in hundreds of places, and people can be sent there without arousing suspicion. You could also acquire an inn or a small guesthouse. A place where it's convenient to sell that same wine, and where people loosen their tongues after drinking, looks very promising."
"I understand," Harald said thoughtfully. From his composed manner and the spark in his eyes, it was clear the task had already captured his imagination, and he was beginning to weigh the possibilities.
"You will also need to buy a mansion—large, with a cellar, but not overly conspicuous. It will become your main base. There, you will organize a crow's nest—for you'll need some way to receive and send messages. For security, you should hire a few skilled fighters; they may be required for more forceful actions. It would also be wise to pay attention to traveling theater troupes. I doubt it will be difficult to find someone among them who, for coin, would tell us what is happening around us."
"A sound idea," Orm nodded.
"I am also certain it would be useful to acquire a light, fast galley for transporting people and small cargoes."
"I see, Your Majesty, that you have been thinking about this for more than a day."
"I had the time," I replied with a nod. "You will need people, Harald—a lot of capable people. That is the most important thing in our line of work. A ship's captain, a shopkeeper, an innkeeper, a chief of security, a clever and trustworthy assistant in whom you can confide much, a clerk, and someone to care for the birds. And that's not even counting those you will send out to the cities. I would advise you to keep the people you acquire along with their shop or ship, and simply buy their loyalty. But you must maintain absolute control over all of them."
"Of course. But you understand that engaging in such a craft sometimes forces one to make…" Orm pressed his lips together and hesitated. "Delicate decisions."
"That's right. Harald, we live in a hard world. Look around—there is blood, tears, and suffering everywhere. Every lord dreams of tearing with teeth and hands just to seize a larger piece of the pie. And almost everyone is ready, at the slightest opportunity—and often without one—to kill, rape, lie, and cause pain. Are you ready to dirty your hands to make all of this a little less so?"
"Yes!" His answer was firm and unequivocal.
"So am I," I said quietly, "even though it will bring me no joy."
We fell silent for a moment. The wind strengthened, forming small eddies on the terrace, sweeping away leaves and twigs. Suddenly, it grew darker and cooler. The storm was closing in. The distant mutter of thunder became a deep, confident roar. The air smelled of rain and lightning.