When Viserys asked whether the weapons had come from Freygo, both sides already understood each other clearly.
To secure their independence in the future, they would have to unite with the least possible cost.
Who was their friend, and who was their enemy—by now, it was obvious.
Lothan studied Viserys's expression carefully.
To ensure the king would agree to go to Nasar, he continued, "If Your Majesty agrees to my proposal, I will offer the maps and routes from my previous expeditions to Nasar."
"My grandfather and I have been there once," Jorel added, stepping forward after receiving Lothan's signal. "I will do everything I can to assist you."
All eyes in the tent turned to Viserys. Every man there hoped to hear the young king say one word—refuse.
But his answer disappointed them.
"Very well," Viserys decided at last. "But I have one condition."
Arthur had already made up his mind: he would stop Viserys from taking such a dangerous risk.
Their migration to Essos had gone smoothly so far.
First, the fleet—though somewhat old and modified—had sold for an astonishing price. This ensured that the crown would have no financial troubles for a long time without even touching the treasury.
Second, their relocation had been seamless.
Braavos received them first, then they found a landing point in Pentos, much closer than expected. That saved time, money, and reduced risk significantly.
Lastly, their first battle here had been a decisive victory, securing their position for future plans.
If anything happened to Viserys now, all that they had built would shatter like glass.
"Your Majesty," Arthur said sincerely once Lothan and his group had left, "the Rhoynar's Prince' Spear might be real.
But if you truly want it, we can wait until we're stronger and gather enough men to search for it. If anything happens to you, the entire royal house would be thrown into danger again!"
Oberyn watched coldly from the side. He didn't care whether Viserys went or not—he intended to go regardless.
But first, he needed to get his hands on Lothan's maps.
House Martell's sigil was the "Spear Sun." If he could find this artefact, all of Sunspear would roar with pride.
The Old Crab stepped forward as well. "Yes, Your Majesty. I've done the calculations.
In two months, we'll recover all the labor costs we spent, and even turn a profit. Those Rhoynar are clearly desperate—that's why they came up with this idea."
Viserys glanced at him, the corners of his mouth curling faintly.
The Old Crab was truly a simple man—everything he saw was measured in coin. He was probably the kind of man who could even imagine a price tag on the king's head.
Viserys turned to his gathered lords and asked, "My lords, do you think our arrival in Essos has been smooth so far?"
They all nodded. Oberyn, however, looked at him with keen interest. He could tell Viserys wanted to go.
"Then can anyone explain the Cat's Company we fought in our very first battle?" Viserys asked.
"Why did Braavos pay such a high price and almost give us supplies for free?"
"Why didn't Freygo tell us he was secretly supporting the Rhoynar? And why did he send them weapons instead of food?"
"Have you forgotten how that fat Pentoshi merchant tried to tempt Prince Oberyn with little Aegon?"
As Viserys mentioned his name, Oberyn lowered his folded arms, his expression turning serious.
Viserys had never strung these events together so clearly before.
Arthur and Oswell were great warriors—brilliant on the battlefield and paragons of virtue—but their political insight was lacking.
The Old Crab, though a master of finances, was no better in that regard.
Perhaps Davos would have noticed something, but he was burdened with leading the migration and had no time to focus on Gohor's situation.
Now that Viserys laid all the hidden dangers bare before them, they finally understood that this land was not as simple as it looked.
"We must pacify Gohor as quickly as possible," Viserys declared. "We must build our new territory fast, expand our strength rapidly, or those hidden predators will swallow us whole."
The tent was warm, but his words sent a chill through everyone present.
The Old Crab suddenly felt that the thin canvas walls offered no safety at all. Even the walls of Vhagarhall outside seemed fragile.
He even thought Viserys's plan for triple-layered walls wasn't excessive in the slightest. Essos was far too dangerous.
Arthur finally understood. He had never realized Viserys saw so deeply.
His king's vision reached farther than his own. His insight was sharper, his plans broader.
For the first time, Arthur felt a pang of insecurity. Did his king even need him anymore? Could he still serve his king as he once imagined?
The Sword of the Morning fell into silent self-doubt, and Oswell, usually quiet, became even more so.
The brazier crackled, filling the silence with sharp, popping sounds.
"So, my lords," Viserys said, "I will go to Nasar. Even if I don't find the so-called Prince' Spear, I will push as far as possible. We—we must never show weakness to anyone!"
Viserys revealed the true nature of his decision.
Their enemy wasn't just in Gohor. If they weren't strong enough, enemies would appear everywhere.
For a fledgling power, nothing declared independence louder than military victory.
"Ser Arthur, I need you to protect me. We will go to Nasar together."
Arthur straightened, finding his resolve again. "Yes. I am a Kingsguard. Even if I can't advise my king, I can at least clear his path!"
He stood tall, his doubts burned away. "As you command, Your Majesty!"
"I'm going too!" Oberyn burst out eagerly the moment Viserys made up his mind.
A voice inside him whispered that the Prince' Spear was destined to be his.
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