Chapter 167: Rhapsody of Pentos (1)
"Congratulations, Your Highness." Ian smiled as Hazan walked toward him. "You made that villain Suda pay the price."
"*We* made him pay the price," Hazan corrected, his expression earnest. "Without your help, I might be the one lying on the fighting platform now."
*His acting is really quite good,* Ian thought with a touch of cynical admiration.
He had learned from Celia that Hazan and his allies had prepared two separate plans for the contest's outcome. To avoid tipping their hand to Illyrio, they had decided that both sides would recruit their champions in earnest and fight for real during the matches.
If, however, Suda's side appeared to be winning, the Prince's Palace guards would intervene to "rescue" Hazan, preventing him from participating further. Magister Tetrus would then use Hazan's forfeiture as a pretext to call a Great Council, demanding satisfaction for the ruined contest and luring Illyrio to the Council Palace to mediate.
Conversely, if Hazan's side won, he was to publicly humiliate Suda and the entire Tetrus family. This insult would give Magister Tetrus the justification he needed to call the Great Council and trick Illyrio into attending.
Considering the first scenario would damage Hazan's reputation, they had made a secondary agreement to ensure his victory if at all possible. It was for this reason that Magister Tetrus had personally revealed crucial information to Hazan before the contest.
"We are brothers, Your Highness," Ian said, matching Hazan's enthusiastic tone. "By the way, about Magister Tetrus just now…"
"He demanded I go to the Parliament Palace to publicly repent and apologize to his family. I know," Hazan said with a noncommittal air. "Don't worry. This is all part of the plan."
"That's good," Ian nodded, affecting a look of relief.
"Now then," Ian continued, shifting his tone, "can we discuss the matter of my commission?"
"Commission?" Hazan looked momentarily stunned, as if he hadn't expected Ian to possess such a philistine side. Then he laughed. "It's a trivial amount. When you marry my sister, your future will be—"
*You have no future,* Ian whispered in his mind. "It is certainly a small sum for the Iron Bank," he said aloud, "but for us, and especially for His Majesty, it is a very great one. We all fought today in the name of King Viserys. He instructed me this morning to deliver the commission to him the moment I received it."
"I see. Well, since it is His Majesty Viserys's wish, please, come with me." Hazan had never intended to default on the payment, but with the civil war in Pentos imminent, he had planned to settle the debt after the dust had settled. Since Ian was insisting, however, there was no harm in paying him now.
Soon, Ian had followed Hazan to the back garden of the Prince's Palace. A few minutes later, Hazan had a servant bring him a small, heavy box.
"Here are gold bars worth six thousand gold dragons," Hazan said, having calculated three times Bronn's promised commission. "The old gold dragons, of course. Not that garbage they've been minting in Westeros since the new Master of Coin took office."
It was no wonder Hazan called the new gold dragons rubbish. Since the Iron Throne's mints had fallen under the control of Petyr "Littlefinger" Baelish, the gold content of newly struck coins was less than half of what it once was.
Ian did not bother to count the gold. A man like Hazan was unlikely to stoop to cheating him over such a paltry sum.
He gestured for Rohr to take the box, then gave Hazan a polite nod. "Since there is nothing else, please allow me to take my leave. I do not wish to keep His Majesty waiting."
"Wait, Ian," Hazan said, stopping him. "Actually, there is something else. What is your opinion of Magister Illyrio?" he asked suddenly.
"Mm?" Ian blinked, feigning confusion. "Why do you ask? Does this have to do with my promise to help convince him to join our cause?"
"No," Hazan shook his head. "What I am about to tell you may come as a shock, but I hope you will hear me out. This matter will be of great benefit to you, with no downside."
*'I'm about to tell you something shocking' is usually followed by something you actually find shocking,* Ian thought wryly. "What is it?"
"My apologies, but you will have to wait a little longer. The time is not yet right. Perhaps you could stay and have lunch with us first."
"And I can't refuse this request, can I?"
"To be on the safe side… you cannot. But I sincerely hope you understand."
The clouds overhead were thick and heavy, crowding together in the sky until they had almost completely blocked the sun's brilliance, casting the day in a premature twilight.
Illyrio's luxurious four-wheeled carriage departed his manse and headed toward the Parliament Palace. An escort of thirty-two eunuch warriors marched before and behind it.
Only moments ago, a herald from the palace had arrived, informing him that Magister Guerrero Tetrus had convened a Great Council. Outraged by the insult Prince Hazan had dealt his family, he was demanding a public explanation from Prince Trigg Mohalis and his son. The herald's demeanor had been frantic, as if civil war was about to descend upon Pentos.
At the same time, envoys from many of the city's dignitaries, including Magister Hauket and the Prince himself, had arrived at Illyrio's manse, all beseeching him to preside over the mediation. After meeting with them, Illyrio had quickly agreed, ordering his servants to prepare the carriage at once.
"Lord Illyrio, I have rarely seen you in such a hurry," the herald remarked jovially from across the carriage.
"The wedding of Princess Daenerys and Khal Drogo is next week," Illyrio Mopatis sighed, pulling back the purple velvet curtain to gaze out at the city. "I hope to avoid any trouble in Pentos before then."
"There shouldn't be any trouble," the herald shrugged. "Magister Tetrus simply wants to regain some face. He has always been a proud man."
"What happened, exactly? Please, tell me everything," Illyrio said, picking a strawberry from a small platter on the table between them and popping it into his mouth. "Was it not agreed that this was a contest of life and death? Why would Hazan choose to humiliate the Tetrus family?"
"The young man is in love," the herald said with a helpless tone. "In front of so many Pentoshi nobles, Hazan actually forced Suda to his knees. He spared his life, but he utterly disgraced him. With Magister Tetrus's temperament, how could he possibly tolerate such a thing?"
The herald leaned forward slightly. "I think this matter may be beyond even your mediation. In this morning's contest, more than half of the warriors who fought for Hazan were King Viserys's knights."
He let the statement hang in the air. "And since you are His Majesty's protector in Pentos, rumors are already spreading that you have formed an alliance with Prince Hazan. People are saying it was your backing that gave the prince the courage to provoke the Tetrus family so brazenly."
Hearing this, Illyrio's face froze. The half-eaten strawberry in his mouth suddenly tasted of ash. He carefully placed the other half back on the plate and remained silent for a long time.
Finally, he spoke a single word: "Damn."
Seeing his reaction, the herald said no more, quietly turning his gaze out the window.
Under Illyrio's sharp command, the coachman cracked his whip. The gorgeous four-wheeled carriage accelerated, galloping down the wide cobblestone avenue of Pentos, a portrait of frantic urgency against the darkening sky.
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