Chapter 79: The Traitors of the Laughing Lion
Ian wasn't worried about the sailors trying to verify his story with Salladhor Saan. Firstly, it was highly unlikely that low-ranking crewmen would dare to question their pirate lord over such a trivial matter. Secondly, even if they wanted to, Salladhor Saan was not in King's Landing.
Different ships in his fleet plied their own trade routes. Unless summoned for a specific purpose—as they would be for Stannis Baratheon's "royal fleet" in the coming war—it was possible for the crews of different ships to go years without seeing one another. His lie was safe.
As the men drank, the tavern maid finally arrived with the feast Ian had ordered. She brought flagons of sweet Arbor Gold, platters of tender roasted pigeon, an entire roasted lamb glistening with fat, and a massive tureen of beef soup. Freshly baked loaves of white bread, pats of butter, and crisp vegetables accompanied the spread, making the sellswords at Ian's table practically drool.
"Bring the tables together! We'll eat as one," Ian announced with a magnanimous smile. He waved the maid over again. "And bring more of everything. I want to see that this table never runs short of Arbor Gold."
"Yes, my lord," the maid said with a deep curtsy. She leaned in close and asked if there was anything else he required.
"No," Ian said, gently but firmly pushing away the woman whose breasts were nearly pressed against his face. "But you may ask my men after the meal. If they have any needs, see that they are met. All expenses will be on my account."
"You are a generous lord!" Burris boomed, his face flush with wine and gratitude. "More generous than any I have ever met!"
"To Sir Lucien's health!" Burris declared, raising his cup high and draining it in a single gulp.
"To Sir Lucien's health!" the other sailors roared in response.
Once the toasts had died down, Ian tore a piece of leg from the roasted lamb, chewing on it thoughtfully. He asked with casual indifference, "By the way, how long will your ship be docked in King's Landing?"
The answer was important. If they were preparing to leave soon, he would have to pay a much greater price to keep them here.
"We just returned from a fortnight at sea, so we've a longer rest this time," Burris replied. "Though, we've already been here a week."
"Is there something you need help with, my lord?" a sharp-eyed sailor asked, seeming to read Ian's intentions. "You are a friend of the Prince, and you've been more than generous to us. You've only to ask."
"Aye! Just ask! If you need your brothers' help, don't be shy!" the others chorused, patting their chests while stuffing their mouths with food and wine.
"I do need your help," Ian admitted with a nod. "But it is a matter I must discuss with your captain."
"Now? The captain is not in the city, my lord. Do you want us to fetch him from the ship?"
"Tomorrow," Ian said, shaking his head. It would be far too arrogant to summon a man from his ship into the city this late at night. He raised his glass to the sailors once more. "For now, enjoy the night."
After dinner, most of the sailors and Ian's own mercenaries remained at the inn, eager to take advantage of the special services he had paid for. Only Bronn and Ser Grantham followed Ian back to the house he had rented. Bronn, of course, had only returned on Ian's direct order.
"You both seem to have many questions, my friends," Ian said, once they were in the main room of the house and Rohr had barred the door.
"I have questions about everything," Bronn sneered, "but I've no interest in the truth. I'm interested in who you want me to kill and how much coin I'll get for it. That's all." He gestured back toward the tavern. "If I had my way, I'd be back there now. I asked the owner to save his daughter for me. If I'm gone too long..."
"Alright, friend," Ian said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "Since you only care for the reward, I guarantee that gold dragons will be spilling from your pockets when this business is done. Now go. Enjoy yourself."
Bronn grinned, turned on his heel, and was gone.
"And you?" Ian asked, turning his gaze to Ser Grantham. "Are you not interested in the truth?"
"I should at least know the purpose of our journey to King's Landing," Grantham said with an awkward smile. "Only so that I might better serve you, of course... if it's convenient for you to tell me." He desperately wanted to know the truth, but if forced to choose between the truth and a pouch of gold, he knew which he would choose.
"First, I must admit that I have lied to you," Ian began, knocking a fist against Rohr's heavy breastplate. "I told you a story when we first met."
"You said that the man, Sandor, was once your kidnapper," Grantham nodded.
"That part is true," Ian confirmed. "But the story did not take place in the Westerlands. I have been at sea with my father for seven years. The kidnapping happened in New Ghis. But the details of that story are not important."
"Yes, my lord."
"What is important is that the men I sent you to hunt at the Crossroads Inn were not wanted criminals from King's Landing. They were traitors from my father's ship—a crew of sellswords who have long operated in Essos."
Ser Grantham nodded slowly. He had already suspected something of the sort. If the targets had truly been local bandits, his employer would not have needed to stress that no one in the area would know them. But if they were sellswords from the Eastern Continent, the secrecy made perfect sense.
"For years, I sailed on my father's ship, the Laughing Lion. We ventured into the Smoking Sea four times to explore the ruins of Old Valyria. The first three voyages yielded almost nothing."
"But a few months ago, we stumbled into the ruins of a Dragonlord's manse. And there, we found it. A Valyrian steel sword. I don't know if you've heard, but my father's entire purpose for his voyage was to find our family's lost ancestral blade, Brightroar."
(An author's note: There is a difference between the show and the books. In the show, the "Stone Men" infected with greyscale live in the ruins of Valyria. This is a change from the source material. The true Stone Men live far to the north of Volantis, along the upper Rhoyne, in the Sorrows. The ruins of Valyria are a far more terrifying place.)
"I have heard the stories, my lord."
"So, when we found that blade, our mission was complete—even though it was not Brightroar itself. We began our journey home, but on the return to Lannisport, we were attacked by the Silence, the flagship of Euron Crow's Eye. We fought them off after a terrible battle, but my father was grievously wounded in the fighting."
"Our losses were too great to continue sailing safely. We were forced to recruit a new group of sailors in the Stepstones. We gave up on returning to the Westerlands and set a new course for King's Landing."
"But we never made it. Just after our ship passed through the Gullet, the new sailors we had hired launched a mutiny. We fought them all night, a bloody battle in the dark, and in the end, the Laughing Lion ran aground and sank near Crow's Rest."
"Some of the rebels fled west, taking the treasures we had found on our expedition with them. I, along with Sandor, the Mute, and a few other loyal men, chased them. We pursued them all the way to Harrenhal, where we finally caught two of the traitors who had become separated from the main group."
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