On the balcony of the White Fort, on Viserys Hills, was the true dragon Tower.
The true dragon Tower was where the King resided in the White Fort, and its construction quality could easily support Illyrio, that obese manatee.
A dazzling array of delicacies was laid out on the long wooden table, including fresh fish from the Upper Rhoyne River, a specialty of Andals, roasted crabs, passenger pigeons, turtledoves, pheasants, skewers of domestic Andalusian beef and mutton, honey-glazed roasted chicken, and wild boar chops.
There were also foods Illyrio brought himself: spiced sausages, jellied eels, ham, boiled eggs, and roasted larks stuffed with garlic and onions.
Illyrio was also a gourmand; his envoy had dedicated mule carts carrying a large quantity of delicacies for him to enjoy. No wonder his body had swelled up like a fat pig.
"I truly did not expect that in distant Pentos, there would be such a kind Magister to help me in my time of need," Viserys raised his cup, gesturing for Illyrio to begin eating.
"I am old, Your Majesty. I am weary of this hypocritical world. Before I die, what harm is there in doing a few righteous deeds, in helping a young and handsome boy reclaim his birthright?" Illyrio boasted. "Of course, if you were to receive a small reward, that would be even better."
"If I return to King's Landing, you shall be my Master of Coin," Viserys immediately offered a blank check. "How is that gift, my fat friend?"
"There is no greater honor than to serve Your Majesty," Illyrio feigned overwhelming gratitude. "For a merchant like me, I am already exceedingly wealthy."
"The true dragon is generous, and the true dragon never forgets, my good friend," Viserys smiled elegantly, truly appearing as a noble gentleman, a stark contrast to this fat manatee.
The two began to eat. Viserys, despite his appearance, could eat quite a lot, so he leisurely indulged.
"In my youth, I was also poor and destitute, an assassin in dirty silks, living by my sword. But now, when I see myself, I want to cry," Illyrio boasted, after they had both enjoyed a delicious meal.
"Time is a razor," Viserys commented. "Actually, my happiest time was when I was a prince in the Red Keep. Carefree, unlike now, when I dream of that damned cold chair."
"To the unforgiving passage of time."
"To the King's glorious return."
Their goblets clinked together, drinking the low-alcohol apple wine of Andals. It seemed their friendship was truly harmonious.
The only difference was that Illyrio believed Viserys had taken the bait, while Viserys was also a deceiver, a genius at the game of power.
"Magister Illyrio, you have traveled far and wide and have many friends. Could you tell me about the current state of the world?" Viserys invited.
"The Known World, the Known World still looks the same, Your Majesty," Illyrio said. "There are occasional storms at sea, most frequent in autumn, but summer is fine. There are still many pirates entrenched in the Stepstones, often raiding honest folk. As for Triarchy, ever since they fell apart, the chattering daughters began fighting among themselves. In recent years, the relationship between Lys and Tyrosh has been very bad, and quiet Myr is the ally they all contend for."
"Of course, I hear Your Majesty's relationship with Tyrosh is somewhat strained?" Illyrio asked.
"The Tyroshi like to hunt, but they didn't inform me, their host," Viserys snorted.
"The Archon of Tyrosh, that pig-headed man, will come to his senses. After all, if he truly attacks Andals, it would cost countless military resources. Once the war fails, the unpaid sellswords will tear the Archon apart."
The fighting among Triarchy was always low-intensity warfare; no war-madman dared to arbitrarily escalate the conflict.
"Of course, the biggest trouble still comes from those restless thieves, who are also friends Pentos cannot refuse. Those unruly dothraki Khals often come to us. There are also brigands on the Rhoyne River, cockroaches scavenging for scraps, and the most troublesome are those dying or half-dead Stone Men."
"Concentrate your forces to wipe out one tribe, and you will find that the Dothraki will not dare to cross the Rhoyne River as readily."
"Isn't it more cost-effective to bribe enemies with food and gifts?"
"As far as I know, the dothraki horsemen are not easy friends to please. The more you give, the more they demand," Viserys said.
"Allow me to speak freely, Your Majesty," Illyrio said. "Sellswords only love money. The Battle of Qohor proved they are no match for the dothraki screaming warriors."
"Unsullied," Viserys said. "But the Unsullied won that battle, and the sellswords ran away."
"The Unsullied are too expensive, and there are too many buyers. Generally, we still have to rely on sellswords," Illyrio explained. "Instead of spending money, why not offer gifts, rather than feeding disloyal sellswords?"
Viserys understood the twisted logic of this Pentoshi merchant. The idea of giving gifts wasn't wrong, but greed knows no bounds.
The more gifts you give, the more frequently they come.
Once the Dothraki produce a god-king and unify the Dothraki again, they will inevitably flatten everything in their path.
Originally, Khal Drogo had this potential, but then he died suddenly.
With fine wine, good food, and abundant sunshine, Illyrio did not take the threat of the Dothraki seriously. For many years, they had relied on a policy of appeasement.
After all, Pentos's wealth primarily depended on sea trade routes, so they weren't concerned about dothraki expansion.
"Currently, the largest tribe belongs to Khal Bharbo, but he is dying, and his son Drogo will become the new Khal. This young man is fortunate and a brave warrior," Illyrio said.
The sons of Khals are very likely to die violent deaths. The dothraki horsemen will not follow an underage Khaleq.
The Ko of the Khal will fight among themselves for control of the tribe, and the young Khaleq will be killed to prevent him from becoming a formidable rival in the future.
"Drogo," Viserys muttered the name.
"This is an opponent Your Majesty must pay close attention to. After the new Khal takes power, he will establish his authority through conquest," Illyrio emphasized. "The Dothraki will destroy any town they see. They have long since freely entered and exited the Rhoyne River basin. The Dothraki view towns as an insult to the Mother of Earth, and they want to restore all things to their natural state."
"You are right, Magister. I may not see The Usurper's banners before I see the Dothraki's iron hooves."
"If you need my help, I will do my best," Illyrio said.
"I want Pentoshi armor and equipment, and Myr crossbows," Viserys demanded.
"I will provide you with specialized channels," Illyrio promised. "But I think you have a quicker route."
"What do you mean?"
"Pentos is full of sellswords and assassins who can be hired. But their combat strength is insufficient. In my opinion, you could hire some Unsullied guards."
"The Unsullied are also men, and too expensive. My andal warriors will be strong soldiers, no less than the Dothraki," Viserys emphasized.
He had little interest in Pentoshi sellswords; sellswords had neither courage nor loyalty.
Illyrio, with a few words, was still trying to provoke a rift between Viserys and Braavos. After all, Braavos prohibited slavery, and having a large number of Unsullied piled at its doorstep would make the Braavosi very uncomfortable.
For a long time, Pentos resented the peace imposed by Braavos and secretly engaged in slavery, simply because they couldn't defeat Braavos.
Now, seeing the Kingdom of Andals, many Magisters had small thoughts of re-establishing contact for another war.
The Unsullied were too far from Viserys; he would have to wait until later to mine for them. Viserys wanted manpower, but he also didn't want to pay.
More importantly, the rampant dothraki-phobia in the Eastern Continent meant that only by directly crushing the Dothraki could a brave and fearless army be forged.
"Actually, besides this direct confrontation method, I have another idea, though it's a bit difficult to mention. But this scheme could turn you and the Khals' conflict into peace."
"Go on," Viserys looked at Illyrio.
"When you were in exile, you brought your niece Rhaenys, the daughter of His Majesty's brother Prince Rhaegar and the Dornish princess, of noble birth. I hear this princess has black hair and black eyes, and olive skin, with an exquisite and ethereal appearance. And Khal Drogo is not yet married. She possesses ancient Valyrian blood, undoubtedly—and she is of illustrious birth, both the granddaughter of the old king and the niece of the new king. There's no way she wouldn't attract Drogo... If this princess is too Dornish, then your sister Daenerys, who is said to possess true Valyrian features. Silver-gold hair, those eyes like purple blossoms... She is just a little young, but with an intermediary to mediate, a blood alliance could be formed, and tens of thousands of screaming warriors would fight for you..." Illyrio cautiously observed Viserys's reaction.
"Magister Illyrio, do you know what family is?" Viserys asked.
Illyrio looked somewhat bewildered.
"Family are the people you don't give up on. I hear barbarians have particularly strange tastes, even going for little boys, horses, and sheep—" Viserys looked at Illyrio, his eyes filled with a cold warning, as if a ferocious dragon was staring at Illyrio.
Illyrio broke out in a cold sweat, as if he had seen a blade drawn and was about to die on the spot.
He had, after all, experience as an assassin, and in that instant, he grasped Viserys's grave killing intent.
Illyrio was absolutely certain that Viserys was a bloodthirsty killer, and far more dangerous than he had imagined.
"Yes, yes, yes, I should not have said too much in front of the true dragon..." Illyrio regretted that he shouldn't have said too many words, provoking the King.
Illyrio wiped the sweat from his brow. "You are a King. A King is magnanimous. If I have offended you, then I apologize to you."
"Find me armor, weapons, and crossbows, and a smuggler fleet, my fat friend," Viserys looked at Illyrio. "When the Dothraki are hungry, they eat people. When the andals are hungry, they also eat people."
"As you command, Your Majesty," Illyrio said, then breathed a sigh of relief.
He could provide Viserys with some contacts and resources, and on that basis, his safety was still assured.
However, Illyrio already understood in his heart that Viserys would be a great enemy to them in the future. This man was dangerous and bloodthirsty, very difficult to control.
Furthermore, "Aegon's" origins were too mysterious and required the endorsement of a true Targaryen. The best way was to get rid of Viserys and marry Daenerys or Rhaenys to "Aegon."
But that was a long-term plan. The current strategy was to continue using Viserys as a pawn to maintain the situation.
Therefore, Illyrio would temporarily continue to support Viserys's cause.
"Besides my friends in the Free Cities, I also have friends in King's Landing. I will relay intelligence from King's Landing to you," Illyrio said.
"That would be excellent," Viserys poured Illyrio another drink.
Illyrio, of course, had a crucial intelligence network, which was his and Varys's biggest trump card.
Because it was a critical trump card, Illyrio had always kept it secret, and few knew about his and Varys's clandestine network.
Viserys felt he also needed a widespread intelligence network.
After a moment's thought, Illyrio decided to keep the top-secret information from Varys to himself for now. When Viserys would learn it depended on their needs.
"To loyalty and friendship!" Illyrio said.
"To the most loyal good friend!" Viserys said.
The glass cups clinked together, seemingly a true ode to friendship.
On the stage of power, there is no true loyalty, and rarely true friendship.
"I have sincere friendship, but it is not for you, Your Majesty," Illyrio thought with secret satisfaction. Even such a self-made great man was, after all, still a young boy, deceived by grand words like loyalty and friendship.
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