Illyrio's question was a calculated one—he was testing whether Viserys was aware of Redbeard's involvement.
Oberyn shrugged.
"Our Targaryen king has Andal blood in his veins as well. Perhaps that's why he's opted for a gentler method of conquest toward the remaining Andals.
Sigh… if young Aegon were king instead, perhaps he'd treat the Rhoynar better.
But as things stand, Viserys has already begun making preparations. Within half a year at most, I expect he'll go to war with the Rhoynar."
Oberyn's words carried a double meaning.
On the surface, it was news of Viserys preparing for war against the Rhoynar. But underneath, it subtly hinted at tensions between Oberyn and Viserys.
These merchant-governors were always well-informed.
Young Aegon's claim to the throne technically superseded Viserys', and he was Oberyn's own nephew.
It was obvious that, compared to Viserys—who lacked any real blood connection—Aegon would more easily gain Dorne's full support.
Of course, that wasn't the most important part. What mattered was that the possibility of division within the Targaryen camp had now entered the minds of those watching.
What they didn't know, however, was that these words were something Viserys had told Oberyn to say.
Viserys's true aim in this meeting was to convey two messages to the Pentoshi:
First, that he had no intention of threatening their interests. They didn't need to panic or act rashly.
Second, that he was preparing to strike at the Rhoynar—Braavos's allies—and that if the Pentoshi wanted to see this through, they'd better "sponsor" his efforts.
Illyrio vaguely understood what Viserys was trying to communicate. So, with a probing tone, he asked:
"So, what brings Prince Oberyn here this time?"
"Who hasn't heard of Pentos's wealth and abundance?" Oberyn replied casually.
"Viserys sent me here to procure goods at reasonable prices—grain, farming tools, livestock, warhorses… and he also hopes the governors can help us recruit skilled craftsmen."
Oberyn was basically saying whatever came to mind.
After all, Viserys had told him to ask for as much as he could—the spoils would be split seventy-thirty.
And Oberyn, ever the doting brother, also needed funds to build a proper residence for Elia in Gohor before her arrival.
"Oh, and after the first battle is won, Viserys plans to bring more people over from Dragonstone. He'll need to pass through Pentos's port, so he hopes you can provide some assistance."
Assistance? Of course!
If they were going to strike at the Rhoynar, they'd gladly assist!
The merchant-governors quickly made up their minds.
The Targaryens were still rootless in Essos. Gaining firm control over Gohor would take a long time.
In the meantime, these men needed a reliable ally to lean on. One by one, the governors began expressing their support:
"I'll provide 200,000 stones of grain! You'll only need to pay the price of 50,000."
"I'll handle the craftsmen. I'll send five hundred of them to accompany you to Gohor."
"I'll supply a thousand livestock and three hundred warhorses."
"Ah, didn't Dragonstone sell us a group of prisoner-laborers recently? Why not have Prince Oberyn take them back as well?" Illyrio suddenly suggested.
Viserys didn't have much use for those captives on Dragonstone now.
But in Gohor—still barren and in dire need of rebuilding—manpower would be devoured endlessly.
Illyrio's suggestion might have sounded generous with someone else's property, but no one objected.
Back then, Viserys had made many concessions just to "safely dispose" of those captives.
Even Oberyn couldn't help but admire Viserys's tactics. With just a single diplomatic trip, he had secured goods equivalent to Dorne's annual tax revenue.
Both Braavos and Pentos were now pouring money and manpower into helping the Targaryens build their new homeland.
Oberyn even began to suspect that Viserys hadn't touched the royal treasury at all up to this point.
He thanked the governors warmly and received many gifts—among them, two beautiful attendants from an aging governor.
The once-beleaguered Pentos was now overjoyed at Viserys's extended olive branch.
The previous tension had entirely dissipated.
...
The banquet that evening could almost be called a celebration.
As usual, Audro played the role of a ceremonial mascot, watching everything unfold from the sidelines.
Then, he saw a slightly tipsy Oberyn walking toward him.
This sudden move caught the attention of everyone present. All eyes turned to them, curious to see what was about to happen.
With his back to the others, Oberyn's drunken expression vanished completely.
Audro saw the sharp glint in Oberyn's eyes as he reached into his robes and pulled out an envelope.
"Prince Audri, this is a greeting letter from His Majesty Viserys. He asked me to deliver it to you—I almost forgot."
Audro hesitated as he looked at the envelope.
Oberyn's expression made it clear that this letter was unlikely to be simple. If its contents were inappropriate in any way, then...
But before he could say or do anything, Oberyn turned back toward the crowd and chuckled:
"Had a bit too much to drink—almost forgot I had one more errand. My apologies, everyone. Please, carry on."
"Haha, yes yes, carry on!"
The merchant-governors returned to their merrymaking as if nothing had happened.
But their minds were already preoccupied with the contents of that letter. As it turned out, the envelope contained nothing more than standard pleasantries.
Viserys remembered that before long, this Prince Audro would die from eating a poisoned mushroom.
He likely wasn't content being a puppet ruler, but lacked the cunning to survive—and thus was eliminated.
By having Oberyn hand him the letter personally, Viserys was testing him.
A man who lacks a sense of security will grasp at any straw offered.
These merchant-governors wanted to plant their own puppet within the Targaryen camp. Viserys, in turn, wanted to plant his own man inside Pentos.
It was now a battle of whose game ran deeper.
Once everything was more or less settled, Oberyn stayed two more days before preparing to depart.
That's when Illyrio unexpectedly offered to see him off personally.
The two of them boarded Illyrio's private carriage—and began to scheme.
"Prince Oberyn," Illyrio began, "what I'm about to say may be out of turn. I hope you won't take offense."
"Go ahead," Oberyn replied with a calm smile.
"Prince Rhaegar was King Aerys's rightful heir. He died at the Trident, yes—but it should be his eldest son who inherits the throne.
How could it be Viserys?
If I recall correctly, it was the Great Council under Jaehaerys the Conciliator that established this line of succession.
Otherwise, the Dance of the Dragons would never have happened in the first place, wouldn't you agree?"
Oberyn's eyes flickered with surprise when he heard Illyrio speak so bluntly.
But he wasn't shocked that Illyrio dared say it—he was shocked because Viserys had predicted that Illyrio might say exactly this.
'Could it be,' Oberyn thought, 'that Viserys truly can dream of everything before it happens?'
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