[Chapter Size: 3900 Words.]
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Third Person POV
Braavos, 300 AC.
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Chaos had taken hold of the harbor and the streets throughout the entire city at that moment, as everyone swallowed hard at the sight of the enormous fleet drawing near.
On board the ships, the Arcticans looked upon the city with a certain disdain.
"So, we're finally here," said Minister Darius, the Minister of Diplomacy (Foreign Affairs), as he listened to the bells ringing throughout the city.
All three ministers—Darius, Junly, the Minister of Trade, and Gavron, the Minister of Treasury and Finance—were aboard the flagship at the front of the fleet, surrounded by Royal Guards assigned to protect them, while one member of the Royal Guard, named Bjorn, was effectively in command of the troops.
Although the ministers held the highest authority in final decisions as representatives of the king, the troops were still commanded by Bjorn, since he was far better suited to lead the forces across the 500 ships than men who dealt only with matters of government.
"Let's slow the fleet's advance and wait here, Ministers. We should wait to see if they send a ship to attempt first contact, or should we send a delegation to dock in the city? After all, if we keep advancing, they'll interpret it as an attack," Bjorn said.
The ministers thought it over.
"Let's send a raven to the Sealord. The wargs have already identified him leaving his residence and heading toward the main harbor in front of us..." Gavron said.
The men nodded at Gavron's command. Thus, the 500 ships remained in position, waiting for the city to organize itself, while some vessels that had been leaving Braavos at that very moment either turned around or tried to flee south as quickly as possible, unwilling to find out how things would end or place themselves in the middle of a war that had nothing to do with them. At the same time, the fleet had effectively blocked the entire western sea passage out of the city.
The harbor itself was in chaos as well, as guards tried to organize the people who were attempting to take shelter within the city. Naturally, Braavos had a common weakness: a lack of defenses. The city was open, and although it had never been conquered, the Titan served far more as a symbol of fear than as a gate capable of blocking ships, even though archers could be stationed atop it to fire arrows and even flaming projectiles from that position.
But would that work against such a fleet? Against a force the world already knew all too well was overwhelmingly powerful? Of course not.
For that reason, even as the men quickly climbed through the interior of the Titan, a commander shouted in Braavosi Valyrian, organizing the troops along the wall. Everyone trembled with fear. No one truly had the courage to fire the first arrow.
Not that the fleet was already within range. After all, it had stopped at the entrance to the Sea of Braavos, blocking any ship from entering or leaving. Even so, it remained far enough away to be beyond the reach of arrows, no matter how tall the Titan's walls were. And unlike them, the Arcticans possessed long-range weapons that gave them the advantage even against those stationed atop the Titan.
Several eagles and other birds quickly began circling above the city as the fleet's wargs assessed the situation. They watched how the city was reacting to their arrival and what security measures they would attempt to implement, especially the Sealord, who had now left his mansion and was making his way to the harbor with an entire troop serving as his escort. Several of the Twelve Keyholders were doing the same, seeking information while speaking with him.
It was possible to say that the city was in good condition. In any case, the Arcticans began carrying out the orders of their leaders.
A scribe quickly prepared the message for Braavos. As soon as it was finished, it was sent directly to the Sealord.
Moro Nestoris was surprised when an eagle flew over to him and landed beside his men, who had already placed their hands on their swords and bows. However, knowing how the Arcticans operated, he instructed them to take the scroll and see what was written in the letter.
After reading it, he frowned, as they demanded a response. The first contact would be through dialogue, and the Arcticans would not advance into the city.
In the end, he quickly took out a quill and ink he had with him, wrote a reply, and handed it to the bird, which immediately took flight.
That also made him cast a worried glance toward the sky, as there were more strange birds than the seagulls that normally flew over the city. That meant those birds were not native to the area.
And no one was foolish enough to ignore the information that had been circulating for years: the fact that there was a specialized force in Arctic made up of men capable of possessing the minds of animals. They used this ability to spy on their enemies, one of the main reasons they were so relentless on the battlefield. Everyone knew this, even though no one understood exactly how it worked, since they had never managed to wrest that secret from them. All they had were rumors and bits of information that had slipped out during the commercial voyages the Arcticans had made over the years.
In the end, the letter was sent. The Sealord remained at the harbor with practically the entire military force of the city, around fifteen thousand men prepared to fight should this become a historic battle. With every mercenary they could still hire and every civilian willing to fight, that force could reach twenty thousand men.
Even so, there was no confidence that they could win.
After all, there were five hundred ships before them. At the very least, that fleet should be carrying the same number of men, perhaps even more. There could easily be as many as thirty thousand warriors aboard those ships.
In any case, a flagship finally broke away from the fleet's formation, accompanied by four other warships as escorts. As they passed between the Titan's legs, they headed toward the dock that had already been prepared to receive them, where the Sealord was waiting.
When the ministers disembarked with the Royal Guards, Junly, Darius, and Gavron approached the Sealord, studying his face. The man was clearly trying to maintain a neutral expression. He was accompanied by his son, as well as two Keyholders and a courtesan, information the Arcticans had already obtained beforehand through their wargs.
As he approached, the minister observed him with great interest.
"Greetings, Sealord. It's good to meet again after so long. It's been more than a moon, hasn't it?" Minister Gavron said, looking at the man, who merely nodded. Although it had been the king who had negotiated previously, it was normal for Arctic's Minister of Wealth to attend the meetings.
"Yes, Lord Gavron. We weren't expecting you today. We apologize for the city being so unsettled by your sudden arrival." the Sealord said.
"There's no need to apologize, Sealord. We're here on our first voyage to see how things are. We are not your enemies, but we are resuming our trade routes once again," Gavron said.
As much as many might protest the fact that they had simply disappeared after signing so many contracts, no one could replace their goods or stand against them. After all, who in the world could face that fleet upon the sea?
"I understand. It's good to see you as well, Lord Darius, Lord Junly," the Sealord said. "These are Belicho Antaryon and Ferrego Prestayn. Two of the Keyholders."
"Ministers, it's a pleasure to see you again. We've heard many things since you disappeared," one of the Keyholders said, watching them with cautious eyes.
Gavron merely maintained a faint smile.
The Royal Guards remained constantly vigilant, looking at the Sealord and the others with clear suspicion, especially the armed men surrounding them. On the other hand, the gaze of Arctic's Royal Guards was making everyone uneasy.
After all, they wouldn't even need to do anything beyond giving a single signal, and all those ships would simply advance against the city. That was obvious with so many birds not native to Braavos perched around the dock.
"Let's go to the Iron Bank, where we can sit down and discuss matters. We're still trying to calm the city. After all, no one expected something like this," the Sealord said.
"I'm sure this is quite a nostalgic sight, wouldn't you agree, my lord?" said Junly, the Minister of Trade, to the Sealord.
Moro Nestoris could not deny it. After all, Jon had entered the city in exactly the same way, simply appearing with five hundred ships the last time Arctic had come there.
"Yes. The size of the Arctican fleet is astonishing. It's always both magnificent and terrifying to behold," another Keyholder said, casting an envious gaze toward the fleet at sea as he gestured for them to follow.
Thus, they entered the city, with the Braavosi trying to remain cautious. In the end, they headed straight for the Iron Bank, where all of the Keyholders had already gathered, visibly nervous.
The three ministers, accompanied by two Royal Guards, took their seats at the table as they observed everyone present. The twelve Keyholders and the Sealord looked at them with caution and nervousness.
No one could have imagined a meeting with them like this. After all, they were practically secretive figures to the vast majority of people, since everyone conducted business through forces represented by the Iron Bank. Not even if the current King of Westeros himself appeared, or if King Robert came to Braavos, would they be received by those men. They preferred to operate discreetly, simply maintaining the Iron Bank's foundation. At most, one or two Keyholders with Tycho Nestoris would have been enough to negotiate, but Arctic, which had intended to deposit 7 million gold coins from the very beginning, was a priority. Now, for other reasons.
"As you know, we are resuming our trade routes. Naturally, Braavos would be our first destination, which shouldn't come as any surprise to you," said the Minister of Trade.
"Yes. It certainly caught us off guard..." one of the Keyholders began.
"...not when we're at war with Westeros," completed Arctic's Minister of Diplomacy, Darius. "In any case, forgive us if our surprise offends you," the minister added.
"It's just that your nation is in the middle of a war. We've heard that your king is in the south, on the western side of the continent. So it's surprising that a part of Arctic would suddenly return to trade as though nothing had happened. If you truly claim that your ships are now carrying more goods than soldiers..."
"Yes, that's true. But now that the war in the North has ended, Arctic has divided its efforts to deal with the matters that became somewhat complicated during its absence from world affairs over the past year, both in Essos, as we're doing here, and in Westeros. Our mission here is to restore all the trade that Arctic had established and resolve all those outstanding matters, while the king and the other generals are dealing with Westeros."
"So the war in the North against the dead ended with your victory?" one of the Keyholders asked curiously.
"Obviously. We dealt with them as we should have. Our strength was more than enough to face the White Walkers and the army of the dead. Our king ended the war by destroying the Night King with his own hands," Gavron said proudly.
He spoke of it as though he were merely summarizing a song, while the men exchanged glances. They didn't seem to doubt the Arcticans, but the information was still quite astonishing. Even so, that wasn't the main topic of the meeting.
"Before we continue, let me ask: what do you intend to do with Westeros? If your king is on the western side, fighting the ironborn, then he certainly intends to conquer Westeros after Lord Stark's declaration and his supposed claim to the throne. Are we correct?" one of the Keyholders asked.
"You're right about that. After all, we're not waging war against Westeros for sport. As you've heard, our king is the rightful King of Westeros."
"That doesn't surprise us. Those of us in Arctic's high command have always known our king's origins, and we possess far better proof than the words of the late Lord Stark. We may not have intended to attack Westeros immediately after enduring such a great war in the North. But our king always intended to conquer Westeros in the future. After all, he always believed that, knowing his bloodline, his children would probably end up fighting that war. So he decided to end it once and for all by unifying the entire continent into ten united kingdoms." Minister Gavron paused briefly before continuing.
"It seems he's doing more than that. What those fools in the south did was invoke our king's wrath. They not only brought forward a war, but also the fury of Jon Arctic himself, and my king will not stop until he has destroyed all of his enemies."
No one could tell whether that was a threat directed at the Iron Bank or merely at Westeros. Even so, there was a clear implication behind his words.
"But three hundred ships... We've heard there are around twenty thousand troops, along with giants, wildfire, and extremely advanced ships. Do you really think that's enough to conquer the Seven Kingdoms?" the Sealord asked, both curious and analytical.
The information they possessed about Arctic indicated that they had managed to assemble an army of around forty-five thousand men, as they had done during the campaign in the Dothraki Sea.
And they had five hundred ships. But the three hundred were on the other side of the continent. In other words, there was a fleet of eight hundred ships in total, which was truly impressive.
The other men exchanged glances. Even the Royal Guards couldn't hide their smiles.
"If you want to know our true strength, it hasn't even reached Westeros yet. Or rather, it's on its way at this very moment. A force of around eighty thousand men is arriving in the south now."
"Eighty thousand men?!" everyone who heard those words shouted, staring at him in shock.
It wasn't as though they could keep that information secret for very long. And honestly, Braavos couldn't do anything about it. So there was no problem in revealing information they would discover within two moons at most.
"We won't speak about all of our forces, but Arctic possesses an army far greater than anything the world has ever seen. You've only witnessed a fraction of it. We only used that force in our internal struggle against the dead. Now that they're gone, we can finally show the world that we are nothing like anything it has ever seen before," Minister Gavron said proudly, seeing the disbelief written across each of their faces.
"We are the most powerful kingdom in the world, and no one can stop us..." Darius added arrogantly. He seemed particularly interested in the expressions on the faces of the men seated before them after those words.
It seemed that everyone was already making calculations in their minds.
"I see... Then Westeros never had a chance," one of the Keyholders finally said.
If another force was being sent to Westeros, then in the end no one would stand a chance. That made the ministers wonder what else they could say. If the dragons were revealed, the king did not want that now. He wanted to use the dragons to consolidate his power at the end of the war, but also to prove that Arctic did not rely solely on them, while preventing his enemies from retreating so easily.
"Is it true that you have dragons?" one of the Keyholders asked, wanting to know.
Gavron merely shook his head. "That's not for me to say. I shouldn't and have nothing to declare about that. None of us will speak about it," he replied. Even though his silence was an answer, he left it at that.
The Arcticans knew those men's tactics very well. They often even used courtesans to try to extract information from him during each of his visits. Gavron had almost given in to them once, despite having a wife and son in Arctic. The king had not been pleased at all when he confessed it, but he had not yielded, nor had he revealed any information.
"Well, in any case, we came here to review our accounting books. After all, the amount of gold my king invested in this bank must have generated considerable profit while being loaned out. We have eight million gold coins in the king's name," said the Minister of Coin as he placed a ledger on the table.
Inside it were all of Arctic's financial records concerning its relationship with Braavos. The Keyholders exchanged glances.
"This is not the original ledger," the minister immediately added, cutting off the Sealord. "The original ledger is in Arctic, complete with the signatures. After all, we couldn't simply bring it here, since it is a treasure of the royal family, representing an important agreement with Braavos and containing all of your signatures," the minister began.
The men visibly grew nervous, and the ministers immediately narrowed their eyes as they all looked at one another for a few seconds before turning their attention back to them.
"I want to verify everything with you. I hope you're willing to do that."
They looked at one another for a moment before nodding.
"Excellent. Then let's begin. After all, we have to depart for Pentos soon," Gavron said.
"You're leaving already?"
"Of course. We're only here to examine a few things. We won't be conducting business with Braavos. Not today. In fact, we're already on our way out," Gavron replied.
It was already obvious what was happening there. He simply wanted to see their response before leaving that place.
"Very well. Bring the scribes. Tell them to bring all of Arctic's records," Moro ordered.
One of the men immediately left to give the orders, and the entire Iron Bank quickly mobilized to carry them out.
Before long, the room was filled with stacks of records. The ministers began asking questions, and the men answered each one regarding profits, interest, taxes, expenses—everything related to Arctic's business. They even asked about trade, as they wanted to know where their food supplies had been sold, since the North had been unable to purchase them at the time because of King Robert Baratheon's orders.
"Wait a moment. You're only answering questions about the period shortly before the war," the Minister of Coin said, staring at the man answering the questions while examining the documents.
"We don't have much information... But it's somewhere," the man began. Of course, they were stalling.
Gavron narrowed his eyes. "You do realize we have nearly ten million gold coins here, don't you? Are you telling us that none of it was used for loans? And where are my king's shares of the bank's annual profits? After all, that was one of the terms of your contract, and we are entitled to a share of the profits. My king is one of the Thirteen Keyholders." He spoke with a tone full of suspicion toward the twelve Keyholders as well as the Sealord.
"No... It wasn't used," one of them replied, clearly nervous.
"So I can simply withdraw that money from here, then?" the minister asked.
The men seemed to turn pale. Although they were highly experienced and accustomed to concealing any expression, it was obvious that they had no answer.
"So that's how it is..." Gavron murmured, staring at them.
"The money is currently being processed. Perhaps we have a major transaction underway," one of them replied quickly.
The minister leaned slightly forward and looked toward one of the windows. Since they were in a more open room, a seagull was perched on the windowsill.
The minister seemed to seek some sort of answer from the bird. When it shook its head negatively, everyone in the room became tense, as it appeared that the animal was being controlled by someone.
They could not have imagined that it was the king himself listening to the entire conversation, and he had already reached his verdict: do not interfere with the Iron Bank for now. We'll deal with them later...
On the continent, Jon was already putting his mind to work. After all, if the Iron Bank was cheating him, wasn't that an opportunity to seize the Iron Bank and all of Braavos as compensation? It wouldn't be a bad idea to make the city an extension of Arctic in Essos.
Back in Braavos, the ministers showed no reaction. They simply watched the bird before turning their attention back to the Keyholders, who were now exchanging glances, knowing that something was wrong.
"Well then, we'll be leaving Braavos immediately. We've already obtained everything we wanted," Gavron said, rising to his feet.
"Wait, my lord. May we ask you to stay in the city a little longer? You must be tired from the journey," the Sealord said.
"No. We have things to do, Sealord. We appreciate Braavos's hospitality, but we have nothing more to discuss." It was a clear sign that Arctic was deeply dissatisfied.
"Please, I insist," the Sealord said again.
The atmosphere of the meeting, already tense, became even more hostile as a cold glint appeared in the eyes of Arctic's Minister of the Treasury, who was leading the negotiations.
"When you speak like that, Sealord, it sounds as though you want to keep us here, which is rather surprising when there's an army outside that, at the slightest sign of anything going wrong, will advance against the city. Even if you were to take us hostage..."
This was no longer a negotiation—it was a threat.
Before the Sealord or anyone else could respond, the minister continued, "Trust me, Sealord. Your next answer will determine what happens to Braavos."
He looked back at the seagull, making it clear that it was listening to everything. If he were taken hostage, all those men aboard the ships would advance on the city the very next instant.
The Keyholders remained tense and quickly exchanged glances, communicating through subtle hand signals. The Sealord seemed to notice it immediately afterward.
In the end, he merely let out a heavy sigh. "Very well. You may leave Braavos. I apologize for the inconvenience," he said diplomatically, though his frustration and nervousness were evident.
After all, attacking the ministers would be pointless. Even if he imprisoned them there, the fleet would immediately advance upon the city.
All that remained was to wait for them to sail south, as they had announced, while Braavos began gathering troops at all of its defensive positions in preparation for the possibility that Arctic would return.
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