Chapter 76: The Riverside Tavern
Continuing southeast along Steel Street, Ian and his companions quickly descended Visenya's Hill, crossed Fishmonger's Square, and entered the Street of the Sisters.
To the east, they could see the Red Keep atop Aegon's High Hill, a massive and imposing fortress standing on the banks of the Blackwater Rush, entirely constructed of pale red stone, with the golden crowned stag banner of House Baratheon flying high above its gates.
To the south lay the River Gate, also known as the Mud Gate, just outside which lay the port of King's Landing, built on the Blackwater Rush.
Ser Granson, the turncloak who had arrived at the Street of the Sisters half a day earlier than Ian and his group, had rented a large manor here.
This was at Ian's behest; he intended to establish his safe house in King's Landing as far away from Flea Bottom as possible.
This would keep him as far away as possible from players hiding in Flea Bottom, and would also allow Ian to easily escape by boat.
When Ian arrived at the manor, Ser Granson had already recalled Bronn from Dorian's "Black Falcon" company, who had been operating from another inn near the Red Keep.
According to Bronn, King Robert had summoned Ser Wilde's petition party the previous day and held a trial for the treason of the Royce and Grafton families.
Ser Simon had a chance to save his life by taking the black, but after being suddenly betrayed by Ser Wilde, he seemed to have lost his mind, incessantly cursing Wilde, the Iron Throne, and even House Lannister.
Ultimately, Simon angered King Robert, who was already deeply grieving the loss of his foster father, Lord Arryn, and was sentenced to death on the spot.
Thus, Dorian and his men's mission of ensuring Simon's execution was completed ahead of schedule, and Ian gained another mercenary company at his disposal in King's Landing.
After settling into the manor, Ian and his men split into two groups and went to a nearby tavern for supper.
As they pushed open the wooden doors and stepped into the tavern's common room, a pungent stench of ale, sweat, unwashed bodies, rotting food, and decaying wood, mixed with a foul, smoky smell that defied description, assaulted their nostrils in the orange-red glow of the firelight.
The tavern's common room was packed with people, mostly sailors from passing ships, dockworkers, and nearby fishermen, as well as many idle sellswords.
They were all drunk, huddled together boasting, gambling, or simply engaged in activities best left unmentioned.
Ian and his group's arrival went unnoticed, and the tavern remained raucous.
Ian found an empty table, ordered the serving girl to bring the best food and drink, and then idly began to observe the other patrons.
Although the chances of encountering players at any inn were extremely slim with only about sixty players left, he still didn't intend to let his guard down.
After scrutinizing everyone in the common room without finding anything suspicious, Ian gave up.
Suddenly, Ian heard a commotion at the next table. The ringleader seemed to be telling a story, so Ian turned his attention over. It wasn't that he wanted to eavesdrop, but the man's voice was so loud that the whole hall could hear him.
"That night I was drunk, truly drunk. I saw a whore. She was beautiful as sin. I was penniless, so I could only follow her after she left the brothel," the drunkard slurred, his face flushed with wine and filled with a blissful reminiscence.
"She seemed to cry, or maybe she fought back, I can't remember clearly. I was so drunk at the time, and only now, thinking back on these details, do I realize how foolish I was." The man took another long pull from his tankard.
Ian: ???
Foolish? You must have some kind of misunderstanding about that word.
"After it was all over, I was going to kill her to keep her quiet because I couldn't pay, and her master was a very dangerous man. But just as I drew my knife, she smiled, a smile that was beautiful beyond words."
"I'm a whore," she said. "I don't mind bedding any man, so you don't need to be so rough."
She spoke with such sincerity, laughing all the while—it was quite a sight to behold. I believed her almost immediately. I told you, I was truly drunk."
"You don't need to keep emphasizing that," one of his companions muttered.
"Are you telling me what to do?" The drunkard glared at his companion, who immediately fell silent.
The drunkard cleared his throat and continued his tale.
At this moment, Ian overheard the conversation of two sailors beside him.
"Don't cross him when he's in his cups. Just agree with whatever he says."
"Seven hells, this bastard is completely mad when he's drunk. Apart from Captain Colin, no one on the entire Myrish Dancer can keep him in check."
"Shh, keep your voice down."
Myrish Dancer, Colin... Ian silently noted the names.
"Aye, anyway, I believed her. 'I don't have coin to pay you,' I said." The drunkard continued his story.
"'But you won't always be broke. You're a strong man, brave, and have a handsome face,' she replied."
Brave and handsome my arse! Ian thought to himself, looking at the burly man with a scar across his right eye.
"'So, I'll consider this a debt. When you're successful and prosperous, come back to King's Landing. Don't forget that one night, Melara from the Street of Silk'—a name she made up for herself," the drunkard added his own commentary as he told the story.
"'Don't forget that one night, Melara from the Street of Silk comforted you during your darkest hour.' As she spoke, she kissed me."
"Her voice was sweet as honey, as if the Maiden herself was speaking to me. In that instant, I realized I had fallen in love with her. The love between a rapist and a whore—that should make for a beautiful ballad."
What a load of horseshit! Ian's lips twitched, beginning to doubt the feasibility of his newly devised plan.
"She bid me goodnight before she left, and I secretly vowed to buy her freedom and wed her someday. And then, and then!" the drunkard suddenly roared, "and then the next morning, she came to my inn with three gold cloaks, accusing me, slandering me!"
"Slandering you about what? Did she make up something you didn't do?" Ian abruptly interjected, drawing the attention of half the tavern.
"This...this," the drunkard stammered, seemingly unprepared for the question, but quickly found justification for himself, "She lied to me, she betrayed me."
(End of Chapter)
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