Artys Arryn POV
I am rich.
The assets I inherited include two mansions in Volantis, one each in Pentos and Braavos, along with two warehouses in Pentos and one in Volantis. There are also two hundred trading vessels, though not at the scale I imagined, but still a good start.
"Lord Soryn, how much money do we have in the Volantis bank and the Iron Bank?" Jon Arryn asked, practically drooling.
"My lord, the deposits are considerable. If I were to convert the amounts into gold dragons…" Soryn paused, doing mental arithmetic as he translated various Essosi currencies into gold dragons.
"In the Bank of Volantis, roughly three hundred thousand golden dragons. In the Iron Bank, about six hundred thousand more."
So, nine hundred thousand golden dragons. It's lower than I expected. Honestly, I thought my maternal family would've saved more. Here I was dreaming of being richer than the Lannisters.
Still, it's enough to build my first fleet of proper trading vessels. But before I start counting my golden dragons, I need to know if there are any debts.
"Lord Soryn, are there any debts I'm inheriting?" I asked. Better to know the liabilities before I start spending.
"None, young master. Your late uncle was a great merchant. He never made a move unless it was profitable," Soryn said, a trace of nostalgia in his voice.
Sounds like someone I could've gotten along with. Pity he's dead, but then again, if he were alive, I wouldn't be inheriting all this. So, he did me a favor by dying and taking his family with him.
"What about slaves?" I asked quietly. The walls have ears, and the last thing I need is anyone thinking I'm a slaver. "My mother's family is from Essos, where slavery's common. Did they… own any?"
If there are slaves, I'll technically inherit them. Doesn't matter if I don't use them; the moment someone whispers Artys Arryn owns slaves, the smallfolk all over the realm, led by septons, will riot or at least show some protest. It's not good for my image or my house.
"Yes, young master," Soryn replied calmly. "By my count, three thousand, two hundred and twenty-two slaves to be exact. All yours."
"Mother have mercy," Yohn Royce said with awe at the numbers. "Lord Arryn, we must do something about the slaves that Lord Artys has just inherited, along with the rest of his holdings. If we do nothing, it will create a problem with the Faith."
I agree: three thousand slaves is a good number of workers, but since slavery is banned in Westeros, it's more harm than good to keep them.
If we keep them, those religious fanatics from Oldtown to every corner where the Faith holds sway would lose their minds.
"I know. That is why I have decided to free them and send them wherever they wish to go," Jon had made a decision regarding the fate of slaves.
Free them? What the fuck? You can't free them! They are not your slaves, Jon; they are mine. The Confederacy will not lose again. That decision should be mine.
But I am only an eight-year-old boy to them. Such a decision should be left to grown-ups; that would be their reply. Perhaps I can convince him to do something else with them.
"Lord Arryn, I am afraid it is not for you to decide. The laws of Volantis are clear: the owner alone decides the fate of slaves. That is Master Artys, not you," Soryn interjected, trying to be respectful, though his tone showed his annoyance at two grown men speaking as if they were his masters.
I had never thought Volantis would have laws for dealing with slaves. I imagined it would be chaos, with the powerful taking what they pleased. Since these slaves are now mine, I will deal with them as I please.
"Lord Soryn, he is but a child. We cannot leave such a decision to him," Jon Arryn said with frustration.
"I am afraid, my lord, I can do nothing. The laws of Volantis are clear. And besides, we are servants of Master Artys, not yours. We answer to him and him alone. I would like to make it very clear: all the inheritance is his and his alone."
Well, that's exactly what I need: someone who will follow me, not dismiss me as a mere child. And I have an idea of what to do with these three thousand slaves.
"Father—"
"You will remain silent, Artys. I have not forgotten your foolishness in betting a Valyrian steel sword," Jon Arryn cut me off while pointing his index finger at me.
"But I am going to participate in the tourney and win. If I win, the Vale will gain twelve years of tax exemption from the Crown," I explained.
"You think the taxes we pay to the Crown for twelve years are more valuable than a Valyrian steel sword?" Jon asked, anger clear in his voice.
"I did not say that. But you should have looked at the King; he was about to agree to the Queen's request to give Joffrey the sword, after Lord Soryn informed the Small Council about another Valyrian steel blade," I explained the situation.
"And you thought the best option on the table was to bet the sword," Jon Arryn asked me.
"Tell me, Father, if the King had ordered the sword to be given to the prince, what would you have done? Would you have gone against him?" I asked Jon Arryn.
Go on, tell me. What could you have done, old man? You have influence over Robert, yes—you raised him in the Eyrie along with Ned when they were boys. But now he's got that kingly pride in him too.
And when Cersei started whispering, claiming that the new silver-haired bastard was better than her son. The deal was sealed.
With the bet, we still have a shot... but you think we don't.
"I agree with him, Lord Arryn. We both know the King's hatred for the Targaryens. And after the Queen's words, it was certain what he was going to do," Yohn said, supporting me.
"Let's move on to these slaves. What should we do with them?" I interjected, cutting through their talk.
"Free them. That's the only option we have. You can't own slaves, Artys; that's against the law, and against the Faith of the Seven," Jon Arryn explained.
"He's right, young lord. Free them since you're the only one who can, according to Volantis law," Yohn Royce added, clearly in favor as well.
Freeing them is the only option I have, since I can't own them. But I could hire them back as free men and offer them food, shelter, and better living conditions. Not to mention, even if I free them, what guarantees they won't end up in chains again?
"Fine. Lord Soryn, make the arrangements; I'll free them," I said. My eyes drifted to Kaelen, the four Unsullied, and the box they had brought. They'd carried it all the way from the small council chambers to the Tower of the Hand.
"As you please, master. You don't need to call me 'lord'; I am your servant. Just Soryn will do. Same goes for Kaelen or anyone else in your service," Soryn said respectfully.
"What's in the box? You've been carrying it for too long," I asked, pointing toward it.
"We brought the sword of your family with us when we came," he said, nodding at Kaelen. They opened the box. Kaelen lifted the sword and handed it to me.
It was a longsword; the grip was coated with gold, and the steel had dark ripples, the classic Valyrian steel pattern.
The sword was similar to Dark Sister, the only difference being the hilt. Unlike Dark Sister, which had a dragon-wing design in its hilt, this sword had carvings of two dragons in it, showing a rider atop each dragon, and the hilt was coated in gold.
Daemon had Dark Sister in the show. Pity I couldn't watch the second season of HOTD, but never mind that; I get to enjoy the beauty of Westeros for real, unlike other fans who could only imagine it.
I'll have to send an expedition team beyond the North to find the grave of the Bloodraven. I hope Dark Sister is there. And then there's Blackfyre… I have no idea where the hell that sword is. Maybe I should do something to get the Bloodraven, the Three-Eyed Raven's attention with his powers. He might tell me where these swords are… and maybe even where to find dragon eggs.
Since I can bond with dragons, it's better if I hatch them as soon as possible so they can grow. Not to mention I need a place to raise them without getting attention, and I know the place: Sothoryos.
"Artys, show me that sword," Jon Arryn said, a bright smile breaking across his old, wrinkled face. His mood had improved.
I handed him the sword. He swung it like a boy with a new toy, grinning ear to ear.
"Here. Take it and go back to your room now. I have a few important matters to discuss with Lord Royce," he said, handing the sword back to me. He looked to Lyn Corbray.
"Make sure he stays in his room and arrange accommodations for our guests from Essos," Jon Arryn said to Lyn.
"Yes, my lord," Lyn replied, tapping me on the back. "Let's go, little lord."