Chapter 79: Traitors on the Laughing Lion
As for whether these men would seek confirmation from Salladhor about this matter, Ian wasn't worried. Not to mention the unlikelihood that lower-ranking crew would seek confirmation from their captain for such a trivial matter, even if they wanted to, Salladhor Saan wasn't in King's Landing.
Different ships had their own trade routes. Although they were all under Salladhor's command, if Salladhor didn't summon them (for example, during the War of the Five Kings, when Salladhor assembled all his ships to form a "royal fleet" for Stannis), they could go years without crossing paths.
As everyone drank, the tavern maid finally brought Ian's fine food and wine: Arbor gold, plump roasted pigeons, a whole roasted lamb, and a large pot of beef stew, accompanied by fresh white bread, butter, and a vegetable platter. The sight made the surrounding sellswords salivate.
"Let's push the tables together and eat as one," Ian said with a smile, then beckoned the maid over. "Add a few more dishes, and keep our table well-stocked with wine. Just the Arbor gold."
"Yes, m'lord," the maid nodded, asking if Ian needed anything else.
"No," Ian flatly declined, pushing away the woman whose breasts were practically pressing against his face. "But after supper, you can ask my men. If they need anything, charge it all to my account."
"You are such a generous lord!" Boris exclaimed immediately. "Ser Lucien, more generous than any other lord I've ever met."
"To Ser Lucien's health!" Boris said, raising his cup and draining it in one gulp.
"To Ser Lucien's health!" the sailors echoed.
After the sailors finished their toasts, Ian tore off a piece of lamb leg and put it in his mouth, casually asking, "By the way, how long will your ship be docked in King's Landing this time?"
This question was crucial. If these men were in a hurry to depart, it would cost Ian more to retain them.
"A fortnight. We just completed a long voyage, so this rest is a bit longer," Boris replied. "But we've been here a week already."
"Is there something we can help you with?" A sharp-eyed sailor seemed to grasp what Ian was thinking. "You are a friend of the captain, and you've been so generous to us. Just say what you need!"
"Aye! Just say the word. If you need any help from us brothers, don't hesitate!" The sailors beat their chests in promise as they continued eating and drinking.
"I do need your help," Ian nodded, "but I need to speak with your captain."
"Now? The captain hasn't come ashore. Should we return to the ship to fetch him now?"
"Tomorrow," Ian shook his head. It was rather presumptuous to summon someone from their ship into the city so late at night. He raised his cup to the sailors again, "You should enjoy tonight."
After supper, most of the sailors and Ian's sellswords stayed at the inn, opting for special services. Only Bronn and Ser Grantham, the turncoat, followed Ian back to their rented lodging. Of course, Bronn had followed at Ian's orders.
"You seem to have many questions, my friends." Ian entered the main room and had Roll close the door.
"I have questions about everything, but I'm not interested in knowing the truth. I'm only interested in who to kill and how much coin I'll get, that's all." Bronn sneered. "If possible, I'd rather return to that inn. I asked the proprietor to keep his daughter for me. For now. If I don't return..."
"Very well, my friend. Since you only care about what you can earn, I promise you that by the end of this business, your purse will be heavy with gold dragons." Ian resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Go ahead and enjoy yourself."
Bronn grinned, then hurried out of the house.
"And you? You're not interested in the truth either?" Ian turned to look at Ser Grantham.
"At least I need to know the purpose of our visit to King's Landing. Of course, that's only so we can better serve you, if that's convenient." Grantham smiled awkwardly. He certainly wanted to know the truth, but if it came down to choosing between truth and gold dragons, he'd choose the latter.
"First, I must admit that I lied to you before," Ian tapped Roll's breastplate. "I told you a story when we first met."
"You said Old Dog was your captor." Ser Grantham nodded.
"This is true, but the story did not take place in the Westerlands, because I had already sailed with my father seven years ago. The story of me being captured by them actually happened in New Ghis. Of course, that story isn't important."
"Yes, m'lord."
"The important thing is that the men I asked you to hunt at the crossroads weren't wanted criminals from King's Landing. In fact, they were traitors from my father's ship, a group of sellswords who had been active in Essos for a long time."
Ser Grantham nodded. He had actually guessed as much long ago. After all, if the targets were bandits active around King's Landing, the employer shouldn't have repeatedly emphasized the point that 'no one knows the targets.' If the targets were sellswords from Essos, it made more sense that no one would recognize them.
"Over the years, I've been on my father's ship, and we've entered the Smoking Sea four times to explore the ruins of ancient Valyria. The first three times were largely fruitless.
But a few months ago, we entered a dragonlord's manse, where we found a Valyrian steel sword. I'm not sure if you're familiar with this, but my father's original purpose in setting sail was to find the family sword, 'Brightroar,' which had been lost."
(P.S. Here's 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 actually a change from the novels. The real stone men live in the upper reaches of the Rhoyne River, north of Volantis, in Chroyane, the 'Sorrows,' homeland of the Rhoynar. There are even more terrifying things in the ruins of Valyria.)
"I've heard of it, m'lord."
"So, when we found the Valyrian steel sword, our mission was complete, even though it wasn't Brightroar. We then chose to return, but on the way back to Lannisport, we were attacked by Euron Crow's Eye and his ship, Silence. After a fierce battle, we repelled them, but my father was grievously wounded.
With heavy losses and unable to continue our voyage, we were forced to temporarily recruit a group of sailors in the Stepstones. We abandoned the idea of returning to the Westerlands and prepared to sail directly for King's Landing.
However, after our ship passed through the Gullet (the passage between Blackwater Bay and the Narrow Sea), the sailors mutinied. We fought fiercely all night, and finally the Laughing Lion ran aground and sank near Maidenpool.
Some of the rebels fled west with the treasure we had risked our lives to find. Old Dog, the Mute, and a few others pursued them until we reached Harrenhal and captured two isolated traitors."
(End of Chapter)
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