Chapter 171: Rhapsody of Pentos (5)
"I will take fifty men to escort these two decoys," Ian announced to the Unsullied commander, Blue Maggot, whom he had found in the mansion's vestibule. "We will see them to the Red Temple in the western part of the city."
"After we are gone," he continued, gesturing toward the two figures among the servants, swaddled tightly in robes, "you are to pull back the mansion's defenses. Retreat to the castle on the back mountain with all remaining Unsullied and protect the true king and his sister. Remember, their safety is paramount."
"And the mansion below?" Blue Maggot asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.
"Nothing is more important than the lives of the king and princess. Follow my orders," Ian said sharply. "If anything goes wrong, you will have only Magister Illyrio to answer to." He shrugged, presenting the Harpy's Whip that Steward Mills had given him.
"Forgive me, but where is Steward Mills?" Blue Maggot hesitated. "Magister Illyrio placed command in his hands. I believe we should discuss this order with him."
"There has been a development," Ian said smoothly. "The steward has gone to the Great Council to find the Magister. Before departing, he entrusted the whip to me. The conflict in the city will be fierce today. In my judgment, our best course of action is to consolidate all our forces to guarantee the safety of the royal siblings. Do you disagree?"
"I..." Blue Maggot paused, his gaze fixed on the whip. "I understand. The Magister and Steward Mills trust you. I will obey your command."
The Unsullied commander finally relented. Astapor had trained the eunuchs to fight and to obey, but never to think for themselves.
Blue Maggot immediately assigned fifty Unsullied to Ian's command.
Ian saw Celia and the two decoys, now dressed in red robes, into their carriage. He then mounted his horse, joining Daeron, Kes, and Yada. With their escort of fifty Unsullied, the party departed from Illyrio's manse.
Ian had initially hoped to take all the Unsullied with him. He had the whip, after all. But Blue Maggot's hesitation proved that Illyrio's soldiers no longer considered the whip the ultimate symbol of authority. Their loyalty had shifted, forcing Ian to abandon his original plan.
When first sold in Astapor, the Unsullied recognize only the whip, not the person who holds it. But once purchased, a new master could give them an order that superseded the whip itself, transferring their absolute loyalty to the master's person.
Daenerys Targaryen's liberation of the Unsullied was a perfect, if ironic, example. She had declared them free and urged them to fight for her as free men, then cast the whip aside. And still, they fought for her. She believed they fought for their newfound freedom, but she was mistaken. The Unsullied had no concept of what freedom even was. They fought for Daenerys simply because, while holding the whip, she had given them their final command.
To the Unsullied, her speech translated into a simple, direct order: *This whip is no longer your master. From now on, you will fight only for me.* And so their loyalty became hers alone. As for freedom? It was a strange, incomprehensible word to men who had never been taught how to read it.
After watching Ian's party depart, Blue Maggot turned to his adjutant. "Notify all guards. Have them assemble at the castle on the back mountain."
He then looked to another subordinate. "Take a squad and evacuate the servants to the mountain," Blue Maggot ordered, pointing to the throng where the real, disguised Targaryen siblings were hidden.
It had been Lord Darry's wise suggestion to hide the royals among the staff, a precaution against any spies or informants who might notice that the true siblings had not departed with the grand escort.
Shortly after Blue Maggot and his forces retreated up the mountain, Rolle and his men emerged from their hiding places within the now-emptied manse. They moved swiftly toward Illyrio's treasure vaults. Rolle remembered Ian's instructions clearly: gems and small works of art first, then the gold.
It was true that Ian had been unable to take the Unsullied, whose loyalty was now to Illyrio the man and not the Harpy's Whip. But he had still succeeded in using his temporary authority to order their retreat, clearing the way for Rolle to plunder the Magister's wealth unopposed.
***
"What is the meaning of this?" Magister Guerrero Tetrus demanded, his face a mask of confusion as he glared at Prince Trigg. "What is the meaning of this?"
"Is the meaning not obvious?" a voice boomed. It was Bidasini Sevasi, a councilor of the Braavosi faction. Having witnessed the seemingly friendly exchange between Magister Illyrio and the Prince, his suspicions were confirmed. "Magister Tetrus, you are in violation of the law!"
*So the rumors are true,* he thought with triumph. *His Highness the Prince has allied with Magister Illyrio! Today's council is meant to be a trial for Tetrus and his illegal armies!*
Legal scholars had long speculated on such a possibility. The number of soldiers the Tetrus family had assembled in the northern quarter far exceeded the 'city guard quota' they had legally purchased. According to the ancient laws of Pentos, the Great Council could declare a state of emergency and charge the Magister with treason.
The law had not been invoked once in the entire history of Pentos, but that hardly mattered. With the Braavosi and Illyrian factions united, any vote was winnable.
Bidasini raised his voice to be heard over the murmurs. "Guerrero Tetrus! The forces you have amassed within Pentos far exceed your legal quota, gravely endangering the liberty and security of this city! I hereby propose to the Great Council that Magister Guerrero be taken into custody immediately and a trial be initiated against him!"
Having finished, Bidasini Sevasi shot a look at Prince Trigg, seeking approval. He clenched his fists, thinking, *See me! I have deduced your plan! I am your instrument! I am worthy of your patronage!*
To his dismay, Prince Trigg merely went pale.
The Prince possessed no real abilities of his own. His life had been defined by a single stroke of good fortune and one of ill. The good fortune was his handsome face, which had captured the eye of Marianne Frega, daughter of the Iron Bank's wealthiest keyholder, who bore him a capable son, Hazan. The ill fortune was being chosen by lot to be the Prince of Pentos.
The entire stratagem had been devised by his son. Trigg's only task today had been to stall. Now, with no new word from Hazan and the council spiraling into chaos, the Prince was completely at a loss.
Nearly every member of the Braavosi and Illyrian factions was on their feet, denouncing Magister Tetrus. Seeing the tide turn so decisively, the neutral parties and fence-sitters quickly joined the chorus.
Trigg understood exactly how this had happened. Only a handful of people knew of his secret alliance with the Tetrus family *against* Illyrio; he himself had only been informed this morning. Neither Hazan nor Tetrus had briefed their respective allies in the council, trusting that once their move was made, the votes would naturally fall to their side.
But now, inflamed by the rumors of a Trigg-Illyrio alliance and provoked by Tetrus's own outburst, the Braavosi faction had mistaken the entire affair as a coordinated attack orchestrated by the Prince. The fact that the ceremonial officer had been bribed by Illyrio only served to confirm their suspicions.
Trigg saw it all unfolding, but he could do nothing. He had never been a man of action. All he could do was sit frozen in his seat, anxiously wiping the cold sweat from his brow.
The cacophony of quarrels gradually coalesced into a single, unified chant that echoed through the chamber.
"Judgment! Judgment!" the councilors roared.
---
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