Chapter 89: Dividing the Spoils
Ian, holding a torch, stood at the center of the group as they descended the spiral staircase.
Unbeknownst to him, just seconds earlier, he had nearly faced a life-or-death crisis.
The archer in the shadows immediately recognized Ian, protected by the crowd, as the group's leader. Fortunately, Ian was encased in steel plate.
Knowing he couldn't penetrate that armor, Esther temporarily abandoned the attack, waiting until they retrieved the treasure chest and their guard was down to see if an opportunity presented itself.
Black Falcon 'Dorian' held his shield high, forming a shield wall with his men at the forefront. They advanced cautiously, fearing the rebel sellswords would suddenly leap from the darkness and attack them.
However, their fears proved unfounded. Even after they breached the temple door and threw their torches inside, they saw no sign of the enemy.
"No enemy, Ser Lucien," Dorian reported loudly to Ian, scanning every corner of the chamber with his torch.
Captain Quhuru, choking on the dust in the temple, coughed as he turned to Ian. "Is there something wrong with your intelligence?"
"Search for a chest in here." At this point, Ian was too tired to continue spinning tales; he simply gave the order.
After all, once everyone got their share of the coin, no one would question anything. No fighting, just money. They'd be too happy to complain.
The torchlight illuminated the empty temple. Everyone fell silent, and Ian could only hear the collective breathing and the echoing sounds of sellswords rummaging through debris.
For some reason, Ian felt a surge of unease, as if there was some kind of curse here, making him suddenly anxious.
Is this the Stranger's Temple? No wonder people would rather live anywhere in Flea Bottom than here, Ian thought to himself.
Still, compared to the other crowded areas of Flea Bottom, where the smallfolk could easily discover the treasure chest, this abandoned temple, untouched for centuries, was the perfect place for the game organizers to hide it, Ian reasoned immediately.
The sounds of rummaging continued for a while, and with the sound of splintering wood, Ian suddenly heard a sellsword's excited cry: "Here! There's a chest!"
He hurried over, and Roel and the others gathered around him.
Dorian the Black Falcon and two sellswords personally lifted a long, rectangular chest from a hidden recess.
It was made of rosewood, covered in leather, and inlaid with lapis lazuli and mother-of-pearl.
Even without its contents, the chest itself was a valuable work of art.
Seeing this, Ian noticed everyone around him breathing faster.
Without hesitation, Ian reached out and opened the chest. Gold covering the bottom suddenly gleamed in the flickering torchlight, and a Valyrian steel greatsword lay atop the gold.
The next moment, a system notification chimed in Ian's mind. He knew it was the sound of Bounty Quest Two being completed.
"Seven hells!" Bronn exclaimed, then grabbed a gold bar from the chest, as if unable to believe it was real.
Roel and Quhuru quickly appraised the contents of the chest.
"A total of four thousand gold dragons worth, three-quarters of which is in gold bars. Because copper and other metals are mixed into gold coins during the minting process, pure gold bars carry a significant premium, so the actual value of this gold should be over forty-five hundred gold dragons," Roel whispered to Ian.
Ian nodded. He had to admit the system was quite particular about the treasure it provided.
"Ser Ian, as per our agreement," Quhuru licked his lips. "I mean, although we haven't found the traitors, we have been serving you diligently."
"Don't worry, my friend. I'll give you your due." Ian reached for his Valyrian steel sword and slung it across his back.
"Here is the remainder of your payment." Ian then pulled a two-pound gold bar from the chest and handed it to Quhuru, repeating the famous line that had once helped him seal a deal: "A Lannister always pays his debts."
"Congratulations, ser," Quhuru said heartily. In just one week's work, they had earned what they would have made in two months at sea, and without taking any real risks. He was very satisfied with the arrangement.
"Hold out your pockets, man," Ian said, turning to Bronn, and then he grabbed a handful of gold dragons and stuffed them into Bronn's pockets. Then a second handful, a third, until they were full.
Ian didn't count, but he estimated there must be at least fifty or sixty gold dragons.
"You provided the most manpower, my friend." Ian pulled out two more gold bars and handed them to Dorian the Black Falcon. "This is what you've earned."
Dorian was somewhat overwhelmed by Ian's generosity. He knelt on one knee, kissed Ian's hand, and then tried to decline. "You avenged my father. I swore an oath to serve you, not for coin."
"So, in your opinion, am I less generous to those who swore me service than I am to hired sellswords?" Ian addressed the other Black Falcon men. He knew Dorian's current standing within the group was uncertain.
"No, my friend," Ian forced the gold bars into Dorian's hands and helped him to his feet. "I never hesitate to reward loyalty with gold."
"My sword is yours, and my life is yours. I will fight to my last breath to protect your life, your property, and your honor." Dorian knelt again and swore his oath.
Following his lead, the Black Falcon sellswords knelt behind him and began to take the oath.
Perhaps, in a sense, these men were no longer sellswords, but rather the household guards of Ser Lucien. Unfortunately, Ian would soon be changing his identity, and it would be difficult for him to retain this force.
He had to think of something, Ian told himself.
Compared to when he'd made the decision to "join Viserys across the Narrow Sea" after winning the Battle of the Abandoned Fishing Village, Ian had now spent much more time with these men, invested more resources, and built greater rapport.
Abandoning them now would be difficult.
"Oh, Ser Lucien, I'm sorry to interrupt this touching moment," Bronn suddenly interrupted the oath-taking, "but perhaps we shouldn't linger in this cursed place any longer. According to the original plan, we should find the best tavern now and have a proper celebration."
"You're right," Ian nodded, then turned to Dorian. "Pick up my chest, let's head back to the docks first."
Ian didn't rush to expand his system inventory and store the gold in it. That behavior would be too suspicious. He planned to do it when no one was watching.
After giving the order, Ian and the others walked out of the temple together.
"You've done well this time, Bronn. Maybe I should knight you." Ian said half-jokingly, but then he shouted, "Fuck! What in seven hells?"
It turned out that they had just climbed out of the spiral staircase from the underground temple and reached ground level when they were covered by a fishing net that fell from above.
(End of Chapter)
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