Leaving Lord Rosby, Viserys, clutching a small vial of sour vinegar he'd acquired, followed Robert as they continued north. They walked along the coast of Blackwater Bay. The cliffs, bleached nearly white by the constant sea wind, overlooked a string of small fishing villages, evidence of the locals' primary livelihood. Following custom, the inns offered primarily fish and shellfish.
Viserys bought a pile of them for a few copper coins, adding onions and garlic, and feasted on fresh grilled oysters.
Robert gnawed on a dried boar leg, a little put out that his page seemed to be enjoying his meal more than he was – although Viserys, ever mindful of etiquette, had cut the dried meat for him before retreating to eat his own food.
He watched the boy stab into the oyster meat with a ridiculous silver fork and bring it to his mouth. The silver-haired prince always wore a reddish-brown scarf. He stretched his neck, cupping the shell with one hand, careful not to let a single drop of juice escape, and chewed with his mouth closed. The aroma of the grilled oysters was intoxicating, the taste probably better than a well-endowed bosom.
Robert could no longer restrain himself. "Hey! Let me try some?"
Viserys glanced at him. "Certainly, my lord. I'll pick out a few of the larger ones to grill."
Then he dutifully returned to Robert's side, and as a page, first filled a large goblet with golden barley wine – which was equivalent to modern cheap beer.
"Please, have a few drinks first."
Robert loved to drink, and he tipped his head back to down a large swig. Viserys, without a word, had a whole keg brought over. Robert drank with satisfaction, again and again. This boy isn't like his brother, who doesn't appreciate the taste of good wine. Excellent.
Viserys returned to his pile of oysters. He picked through them with a small knife, finding a few dead ones with open shells. He shucked them, placing them on the grill for a heavy seasoning.
Robert watched the prince's activity with satisfaction. Viserys had found the oysters too small and gone to the village to buy more. When he returned, he also brought back a pile of fresh grapes and pomegranates. He finally arranged the grilled oyster meat on a large silver platter and presented it to him. Wonderful!
Robert ate heartily, washing it down with ale, a grape and a mouthful of oyster meat, then a pomegranate. Not bad! The oysters combined with the wine and fruit, the meat plump, and full of elasticity, the taste far better than jerky! Having a refined Targaryen by his side was truly not bad at all!
Of course, Robert didn't see the look in Viserys' eyes as he watched him eat with gusto. He certainly wouldn't know why, after a pleasant afternoon of riding, he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his abdomen and needed to relieve himself immediately.
He stumbled off his horse, and as he hit the ground, he felt his knees swell and ache.
Food poisoning from overeating dead oysters, combined with alcohol and fruit, triggered gout. Viserys thought, watching as two Kingsguard members supported Robert, one on each side, and helped him to the bushes by the side of the road. He felt immensely pleased.
Robert thought he had a minor physical issue, but he didn't suspect the food. The wine and fruits were shared by his companions, and Viserys had eaten the oysters too.
He limped slightly, announcing that he would rest for a day at the nearby lord's castle and drink some poppy milk.
Where were they? Duskendale. A circular, sturdy castle stood on the hill ahead, overlooking the surrounding area like a master. The family banner hung from the castle, a red field with seven white shields expressing glory and honor: The Darklyn Family had produced seven Kingsguard! What loyalty!
Viserys looked around and felt a sense of irony. This lord was about to court death, bringing ruin to his entire family and relatives. The Defiance of Duskendale was a major event, and it would drive the Mad King further into madness. If Aerys died in the rebellion, it would be a golden opportunity for his brother, Rhaegar, to ascend to the throne. But, could it really go as planned?
He thought about it and felt that he didn't have a sure plan. He was still too young to get involved in the situation. His overall stance was completely with Tywin, "Anyone who dares to threaten me will die," but he felt that he couldn't persuade his brother Rhaegar to use a borrowed knife to kill someone, and then wait for the hostage king to be killed... His brother would eventually send people to rescue his father... And the loyal and brave Kingsguard, Barristan, would succeed in the rescue only to have the mad old man become even more hysterical in his suspicion of the Hand and his son.
Until he followed Robert into Harrenhal, Viserys couldn't come up with a foolproof plan to change the outcome of the rebellion and make his brother king. He was also afraid that, if he were to alter Aerys's decisions, the Mad King would have Rhaegar come here with a small number of people to arrest and execute the lord! Wouldn't that put his brother in danger?
It was not a good thing for a Crown Prince not to have his own army. He thought, because he didn't have a direct fief, he couldn't recruit and train soldiers—if there was a rebellion... such as the War of the Usurper, the tacit understanding and cooperation between the commander and the soldiers, the army mobilized from the capital couldn't compare to the lords' armies.
In the end, I don't like the seven kingdoms' lord system of Westeros. Wouldn't a highly centralized government be better? Qin destroyed the six kingdoms and abolished the original feudal lords! That is, Aegon the Conqueror, with three dragons in his hands, only completed an incomplete conquest.
Viserys frowned, remembering that the royal domain surrounded by the Seven Kingdoms was the smallest. Moreover, it was divided among many family lords, who only swore fealty to the king and paid taxes... And now, after failing to profit from it, they refused to pay taxes, imprisoned the king, and rebelled.
He looked indifferently at Lord Denys Darklyn, who had come to greet him, along with his wife and family. He saw them as burning human pyres, feeling not the slightest ripple of emotion.
Lord Denys had recently been planning something: he wanted to propose to the king that he grant more power to the residents of his domain. For example, he wanted the king to grant a city charter, establishing a free commercial city-state.
His beloved wife had told him about Myr, a bay on the eastern continent of Essos, which was similar in location to Duskendale. Because of the establishment of a free city-state, merchants thrived and were extremely wealthy; the taxes collected by the governors each year could fill a hall.
"My dear," his olive-skinned wife praised him, suggesting he could try the same. Denys Darklyn thought it was a brilliant idea.
So, when inviting guests for dinner, he cautiously expressed his idea to Robert and the young prince.
"Oh, that's great," Robert, feeling a bit better, said casually, his eyes unable to resist glancing at the Countess: she wore a large gemstone necklace, with a teardrop-shaped pendant hanging down to a deep cleavage; the lace trim of her robe couldn't completely cover her ample figure.
Lady Serala smiled seductively, leaning over to whisper to her husband, her red lips parting and closing. Robert couldn't help but imagine if his… was in her mouth…
"Don't even dream about it," the page boy beside him said clearly. Robert was about to lose his temper, but then he realized Viserys was referring to Duskendale becoming a free city.
Lord Denys frowned, but seeing the speaker's eye and hair color, he didn't dare to get angry. He simply set down his wine glass. "Your Grace, why would you say that?"
Viserys pushed away the fruit in front of him.
"Let me tell you a story. There's a type of citrus tree. When planted in Highgarden, it bears sweet, large fruit. But if you transplant it to the Vale, it only grows bitter, sour fruit. That's what I mean, my lord. The rich and beautiful scenery of Myr that your lady describes is the sweet fruit of Highgarden."
Lord Denys looked bewildered. Viserys was speechless at his comprehension and intelligence. Of course, a smart man wouldn't be completely controlled by a woman.
"This won't end well," he said calmly.
The lord was annoyed. This was just a child! Wet behind the ears! If he weren't a Targaryen, he would have thrown him out of the castle!
The Lady Serala reached out and pressed her hand on her husband's arm. "Your Grace, how can you be so sure? I am from Myr. There, merchant ships come and go in an endless stream, sending fine wines and lace to all corners of the world. The governor receives several times more in taxes than from fishing and farming. If Duskendale could become a free trading city, I believe that, with the lord's abilities, this place will surely become a jewel of the Crownlands."
Viserys looked at her perfect breasts, and couldn't help but think of the fate that befell her for so eagerly encouraging her husband: her beautiful, clever tongue was cut out, along with the two other weapons she used to please her husband, and then she was tied to a stake and burned. Greedy and foolish people, only one person survived from the entire Darklyn family and their relatives.
He frowned. "Really? Then be direct, Lord. I want to ask, what irreplaceable advantages does Duskendale actually possess that allows it to confidently consider itself the most dazzling jewel in the King's domain?"
Lady Serala gave a coquettish laugh. "Duskendale was once the capital of a kingdom! Its prosperity and beauty once caused Queen Visenya to exclaim and order her soldiers not to destroy it—"
"My goodness!" the young prince exclaimed. "Is this the praise your family has passed down through generations about your fief? Let me tell you, from the perspective of the Targaryens, things are not quite like that."
"Preventing looting and robbery can stabilize people's livelihoods and allow them to continue creating wealth. It's the difference between killing a chicken to eat and waiting for the chicken to lay eggs and hatch more. When Queen Visenya led her troops to land on Blackwater Bay, she wasn't thinking about looting, but rather, that the Targaryens would rule this continent. Her protection of the old capital, Duskendale, had nothing to do with how beautiful it was."
The Earl and Countess looked at the Targaryen prince, who was speaking eloquently, with disbelief. Even Robert's eyes moved from the lace-clad breasts to his own page. Also present at the welcoming banquet were the Earl's vassals, some of whom had long been displeased with the foreign woman controlling the Earl—they exchanged glances.
Viserys was remembered and recorded for his repeated questioning that night, with it said that there was a light of wisdom in the young prince's silver eyes. His portrait, wearing a red-brown fringed scarf, also became a page in a legendary storybook—of course, the legend was a bit more outlandish, claiming that the bewitched Lord Denys Darklyn ambushed assassins to kill anyone who disobeyed his wife's wishes—the Myr witch. The young prince exposed the witch's lies, woke up the Earl, and finally drove the witch away.
—"Now, Lord, please continue, and clarify what unique advantages Duskendale possesses. A port? But King's Landing has one, and it's much larger than yours. Why would merchants from other domains, or even other continents, not sail to King's Landing? There are far more nobles there than here, and they hold wealth and are willing to buy all sorts of goods. May I ask, Lord, do you think your family can support sufficient demand for goods?"
The Lord wiped his brow.
Viserys's purple eyes fixed on him as he pressed on, "Are there any rare mineral resources here? No. Is there a manufacturing base? No. Can you gather a large number of skilled craftsmen to mass-produce fine wines or blankets? No, you cannot. So, what exactly will entice merchants to come here to buy? Just the meager catch from that fishing village?"
For the first time, the Lord felt that his fiefdom was utterly pathetic.
Viserys finished by completely dispelling his hopes: "If you, Lord, want to obtain a city charter, I can tell you a sure way to get it from the King. You only need to petition him. If he allows free trade to the city, you will pay twice the previous taxes to the King. For this, you will use your castle as collateral, meaning that if you fail, the King has the right to reclaim everything belonging to the Darklyn Family."