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Chapter 171: Illyrio
🕑 Added 2025-02-25 12:18:16 +0000 UTCThe enormous sum involved in the bond made Lynd fall into deep thought. He seemed to be contemplating more than just whether the bond would be invalidated—his thoughts had expanded to other matters as well.
Both Smith and Varys waited in silence, allowing Lynd to process his thoughts without interruption.
After a long while, Lynd finally returned to the moment, then looked at the Smith and said, “I will give you 6,000 golden dragons. You must use this money to repay the people you deceived. Moreover, this is a loan—I will deduct one-tenth of your wages each month until the debt is fully repaid.” He then pointed to the box before him and continued, “As for this bond, I will confiscate it as punishment. From now on, you are to teach the Smith's apprentices in Summerhall with complete honesty and without reservation. If you cause any more trouble, I will personally see to your end—no one else will have to. Do you understand?”
Tobho Mott nodded repeatedly, his voice quick and eager. “I understand! I understand!” Then, unable to help himself, he hesitantly asked, “How much… how much is my monthly salary?”
“Your salary will range from fifty silver stags to three golden dragons, depending on your performance,” Lynd replied. “If you exceed expectations, there will be additional rewards—often more than double your monthly wage.”
Tobho Mott knew he had no other options; Lynd was his only chance at survival. And truthfully, this arrangement was not a bad one. Even if he weren’t burdened with the 6,000-golden-dragon debt, he would still have had to serve Lynd for the rest of his life.
“I am willing to sign the contract,” Tobho Mott declared without hesitation.
He swiftly signed, and Lynd assured him that his personal representative would handle the repayment, settling debts one by one. The remainder of the owed sum would be covered by selling the smithy in King’s Landing, as it would be of no further use once Lynd moved to Summerhall.
With this matter resolved, Lynd and Varys left the smithy.
As they walked, Varys suddenly asked, “Lord Lynd, what do you intend to do with this Tyrosh bond?”
Lynd simply smiled, not answering directly. Instead, he turned to Varys and said, “I want to meet your friend—I have a business proposal for him.”
Varys was momentarily stunned, unsure why Lynd suddenly wished to meet this person. Though puzzled, he did not show it, nor did he refuse. After a moment of thought, he said, “Are you free now? We can go see him immediately.”
“He's in King’s Landing?” Lynd asked, raising an eyebrow.
Varys nodded. “The appearance of a wight caused a stir even across the Narrow Sea. He has always been intrigued by such things, so he came to see it for himself. He only arrived today.”
“In that case, let’s go now,” Lynd said decisively.
Rather than leading Lynd directly to his friend’s hidden residence, Varys took him first to the Dragonpit. From there, they passed through a tunnel beneath it, emerging into a cellar deep beneath the Red Keep, a space filled with dragonbones.
“My lord, please wait here a moment—I’ll fetch him at once,” Varys said before disappearing into another hidden passage.
The room fell silent, the air thick with an eerie, inexplicable stillness.
Lynd, unfazed by the oppressive atmosphere, took a torch from the wall and stepped toward the pile of dragonbones.
Among them, the skeletons of the three greatest dragons—Vhagar, Balerion, and Vermithor—stood intact. The others had been replaced with forgeries crafted by Varys. The real bones had been stored in the cellar of Miracle Harbor, while some had already been used in the Dragon Communion Ritual.
Lynd had long known that Vhagar, Balerion, and Vermithor were the largest dragons in history, but even so, seeing their remains up close was staggering. Each skull was the size of a two-story building.
Vhagar, the largest of them all, was particularly imposing. With its mouth open, a mounted rider could pass through with ease. If it were to stretch its jaws to their full capacity, the old tales claimed it could swallow a woolly mammoth whole. Seeing its skull now, Lynd had no doubt that the legends were true.
“How were these skulls transported here in the first place?” Looking at the massive, intact dragonbones and then at the narrow entrance of the cellar, Lynd couldn't help but ask himself.
However, he soon put the question aside, his attention drawn to the power contained within the dragonbones.
To the smallfolk, these three dragons were simply larger than the others. But in Lynd’s eyes, they had undergone some kind of transformation—something about the magic within their bones was distinctly different from that of the others.
The most obvious difference was in their resonance. When Lynd touched the bones of the other dragons, there was no reaction. But the moment his fingers brushed against the remains of Vhagar, Balerion, or Vermithor, he could clearly feel the dragon runes stirring within him, urging him to perform the Dragon Communion Ritual in his mind.
The sensation was overwhelming, but his willpower was strong. He resisted the urge, stepping away from the bones and standing at a distance, watching them in the dim light.
At that moment, Lynd felt a strong desire to summon Glory to his side. Perhaps through Glory’s perspective, he could gain some insight into the mystery surrounding these ancient remains.
He did not have to wait long. Varys soon returned, leading a burly man dressed in the attire of a simple servant.
At first glance, the man appeared indistinguishable from the lower-ranking servants of the Red Keep. But a closer look revealed a striking incongruity—his bearing did not match his clothing. His every movement, his posture, even the air around him exuded the presence of someone accustomed to power.
“This is my friend, Illyrio Mopatis,” Varys said without any unnecessary preamble. “And this is Lynd Tarran, the Chosen of the Seven and Lord of Summerhall.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord Lynd,” Illyrio said, extending his hand.
Lynd shook it firmly. “Magister Illyrio, I am pleased to make your acquaintance as well.”
“I hear you wish to conduct some large-scale business with me?” Illyrio asked, getting straight to the point.
“Yes,” Lynd nodded. “I want you to help me acquire all the five-year bonds issued by Tyrosh, at the lowest possible price. After all, to many, these bonds are little more than worthless scraps of paper.”
Illyrio’s expression flickered with surprise. He studied Lynd carefully before asking, “Lord Lynd, do you understand what Tyrosh bonds actually are?”
Lynd’s gaze remained steady. “Of course I do. Varys has already explained everything to me. Otherwise, why would I say that to some, including yourself, Magister Illyrio, these bonds are now nothing more than waste?”
“If that is the case, then why do you still want me to acquire them for you?” Illyrio’s confusion deepened.
Lynd did not answer immediately. Instead, he posed a question of his own. “Tell me, Lord Illyrio, does every person who hires you need to justify their reasoning to you in full detail?”
“Of course not,” Illyrio admitted, shaking his head. “However, your position is... unique. Even the smallest of your actions can send ripples through the world, causing upheaval that may, in turn, affect my own interests. I need to understand what you are planning before I involve myself.”
Perhaps Illyrio’s reasoning was sound, or perhaps Lynd had never intended to keep his plans a secret. After a moment of thought, he decided to share his intentions with Varys and Illyrio.
“I intend to buy up all of Tyrosh’s bonds at the lowest possible price,” Lynd explained. “Then, when Tyrosh inevitably goes to war with its rivals, I will ensure that Tyrosh wins the conflict, leaving them no excuse to default on their debts.”
Illyrio frowned. “Even if Tyrosh wins, they will still find a way to avoid paying. They won’t have the funds to redeem the bonds.”
“Would those excuses be legitimate?” Lynd asked.
Illyrio shook his head. “Of course not. But that hardly matters. They just need an excuse. If a war loss isn’t available, they’ll invent another one. No one has the power to challenge their decision.”
As he spoke, realization dawned on him. His eyes widened, and he looked at Lynd with newfound wariness. “Lord Lynd… are you planning to take action against Tyrosh?”
Lynd smiled. “It’s not that I want to act against Tyrosh. It’s that Tyrosh has shamelessly and dishonestly stolen my golden dragons. I have no choice but to go to war.”
Illyrio exhaled sharply. “You are a bold man, Lord Lynd. You must understand that while Tyrosh, Lys, and Myr often war over the Disputed Lands, they would never tolerate outside interference. If any foreign power attacks one of them, the three Free Cities will undoubtedly unite against the invader. Together, they are a force stronger than even the Iron Throne. It was the influence of the Free Cities that lurked in the shadows behind the War of the Ninepenny Kings.”
Lynd’s expression remained composed. “I am well aware of the strength of the three Free Cities. But do the Free Cities understand my strength?”
Illyrio’s thoughts drifted to the sight of the Stone Giants stationed outside the walls of King’s Landing, standing behind the wooden palisade of their camp. He recalled the countless tales of Lynd’s victories, of his legendary power. For the first time, Illyrio considered the possibility that if Lynd truly went to war with Tyrosh… perhaps it would be Lynd who emerged victorious.
“You really don’t need to think so hard about this,” Varys said, breaking the silence. “No matter how this plays out, it will benefit you.”
Illyrio mulled over his words. He quickly realized that Varys was right. If Lynd won the war, he would gain a powerful ally in the Free Cities. If Lynd lost, Illyrio could still make a fortune by knowing in advance that war was coming.
Understanding this, Illyrio nodded. “I accept this commission. I will help you acquire the bonds, ensuring that the total cost does not exceed 10,000 golden dragons.”
Lynd added, “Additionally, I need intelligence. Information on the Stepstones, Tyrosh, Myr, and Lys.”
“The Stepstones?” Illyrio and Varys exchanged glances.
It was logical to gather intelligence on Tyrosh, Myr, and Lys—after all, if a war was brewing, those were the players involved. But the Stepstones? That was unexpected.
They both had the same thought: Does he plan to take the Stepstones before the war even begins?
As if reading their minds, Lynd continued, “If I am to go to war with Tyrosh in five years, then the Stepstones cannot remain under someone else’s control. My connection to my territory is crucial. If it is severed, I will be truly isolated. Therefore, taking the Stepstones is inevitable.”
Illyrio hesitated. “Lord Lynd, for centuries, no ruler or kingdom has ever fully conquered the Stepstones. Even the Triarchy, at its height, only controlled parts of the region. The islands have never been fully unified. Even Daemon Targaryen, riding a dragon, failed to subdue them all. Today, the Stepstones are divided among Free Cities, Dorne, the Iron Throne, and countless pirate lords. With your strength, you may be able to claim one or two islands—but to take all of them? That would be—”
“I know exactly what I’m doing,” Lynd interrupted. “You don’t need to convince me otherwise. Just gather intelligence. I need details—who controls each island, which pirate factions hold which waters. The more information, the better.”
Illyrio understood that Lynd’s mind was set. He glanced at Varys, but the Spider remained silent, offering no objections. Seeing this, Illyrio nodded.
The discussion soon shifted to trade—spices, jewelry—but what caught Lynd’s attention most was the slave trade.
“You want to buy slaves?” Illyrio was stunned. Even Varys looked surprised.
Slavery was strictly forbidden in the Seven Kingdoms. The Faith of the Seven condemned it outright. But Lynd—Chosen of the Seven—was openly seeking to trade in slaves?
“Don’t misunderstand,” Lynd clarified. “I’m not buying them for labor or personal use. I intend to free them and offer them new lives in my lands.”
He elaborated, “I have specific requirements. I want skilled individuals—blacksmiths, craftsmen, scholars, healers, shamans. I have no interest in servants or common laborers. Do you understand, Magister Illyrio?”
Illyrio’s surprise faded, replaced by understanding. He nodded. “I understand. I will find such individuals and send them to your lands.”
“Not to King’s Landing,” Lynd corrected. “Send them to Miracle Harbor. The docks should already be complete.”
Illyrio agreed.
Though they had not discussed the price, Illyrio knew this would be a long-term arrangement—and that Lynd would make sure it was worth his while.
