Varys VI
"What a pleasure to meet you gentlemen," Varys effused, shaking hands with both Lannisters. "Pentos is my home, but my years in King's Landing make Westeros a close second in my heart."
Gerion followed the shake of hands with a manly thump to Varys' shoulder that would have staggers a less solidly built man. His nephew, famously barely half the height but no less weatherbeaten in his features, merely poured out a fresh goblet of wine for him. "Well your own name is hardly unknown, Master Varys. I daresay that after the prince - long may he reign - that you are the best known man in Pentos."
"Oh really." He waved his hand dismissively. "I spread the news, but I am hardly news myself. No family dramas - no family at all. I barely ever leave Pentos."
"But your words are read not only in Pentos and her daughter cities, but also far away." Tyrion sipped on his own goblet.
"Aye," agreed Ser Gerion. "Scarcely had we made port at Volantis but we were asked most urgently if we had copies of your Broadsheet. For all the imitators, I daresay none is as respected as those pages with the name Varys at the bottom."
"Why that's very gratifying, all the more so from such legendary figures as the first men to set foot in Valyria in centuries."
"The first men to set foot there and return," corrected the captain of the Silence. "Important distinction. As it happens, I have some literary ambitions of my own. I don't suppose you can recommend a printer in Pentos."
"As I have a small sideline in books myself," admitted Varys. "These new printing presses are spreading the written word more than every priestly school on two continents. May I venture to suspect that you have written an account of your voyage?"
"Precisely so. And while I rather imagine that I can have it printed in Westeros, it seems to me there would be even more interest here in Essos about the exploration of Old Valyria."
"Then perhaps we can come to an arrangement." Varys pursed his lips. "Of course, unless you wish to remain in Pentos for quite some time... well, the first printing would be a matter of only a few weeks but selling the books..." Advertised in his broadsheet perhaps - perhaps print a sample in next week's broadsheet, ending on some suitably dramatic moment to lure his readers to buy the book to learn the results...
"In return for a fair share of the profits." The younger Lannister's smile didn't reach his eyes. "I know how this game is played, Master Varys."
"Why of course." He pressed one hand to his chest. "After all, you might write further books, and should you wish them sold here..."
"My nephew the copper-counter," said Gerion with a chuckle.
"And you weren't counting every coin when we divided our find with Volantis."
Varys arched his eyebrows artfully. "Most generous of you, my lords Lannister. Or..."
"It was the agreement our ancestor King Tommen reached with them, before his fleet vanished in those waters," Gerion said a little stiffly. "Lannisters pay their debts."
"Among the most admirable of traits, I agree." Verys bobbed his head. "Shall we say one third of the profits once printing costs are covered, Lord Tyrion? I can have it sent across the Narrow Sea for you."
"Shall we say one half, and you can deposit it with the Tower Bank." The dwarf smiled crookedly. "I left a modest investment there on my first visit - in case I got marooned here and needed to pay for passage home. I don't think they'll mind my adding to it."
He made a gesture of surrender. "As you would have it, Lord Tyrion. If you wish to meet with me on the morrow, we can discuss the details with my printers." While the King's rigidity on the matter of bond service hadn't endeared him to many Pentoshi, the city's bank would hardly refuse to do business with one of the great Houses of the other continent - particularly the fabulously wealthy Lannisters. "I look forward to reading your deeds."
"In the meantime." Gerion paused. "Oh, your goblet is near empty. Let me fill that for you."
"My thanks." It was a rich, Volantine wine. Varys sipped cautiously and resolved not to finish this cup until he was ready to leave, lest he be forced by politeness to accept more and more. He didn't find that alcohol swayed him as much as some men, but nor was he the sort of hardened drinker that a sailor or a Westerosi lord might be - and these men were both!
"Perhaps you have news of our homeland that we might not have heard yet." Gerion smiled charmingly. "We would hope no misfortune lies on the kingdoms but -"
Varys held up his hands. "But of course. I should have thought that you might not have heard - pray ask no further." He set the goblet down and folded his arms before him. "I ask your pardon for not realising you might not have heard this yet - Lord Tywin Lannister is said to be in ill-health."
"Father," murmured Tyrion.
His uncle leant forwards. "An injury?"
"If my correspondents in the capital are correct, a serious case of flux."
Tyrion barked a short laugh. "That would figure."
"How soon can we leave?"
The dwarf shrugged. "We need supplies and the wind's out of the west. I'd thought to wait until there was a better wind. Father will have the best maesters in the kingdom around him, don't worry so much."
"I have an ill feeling about this."
Tyrion nodded. "Well, your feelings have worked out before. The day after tomorrow then. The crew need at least a little time ashore and I'm not venturing out of sight of land without replenishing our water barrels."
"Are you sure this isn't so you can get your book printed?"
"Uncle, I'd hope you'd realise by now that putting to sea is a bit more complex than saddling a horse."
Ned XIII
"Fishing rights?" asked Lord Tully. Ned's goodfather seemed bemused rather than derisive.
Davos Seaworth cleared his throat. Ten years of wearing fine tunics and a title made them feel no less a poor fit for a Fleabottom-born smuggler. "Fishing is more like hunting than farming, my lord. Fish cannot always be found in the same place, so fishermen range across the sea looking for a place to cast their nets."
Lord Manderly rose ponderously to his feet. "White Harbour has a considerable fishing fleet," he reminded the lords. "And in winter it's not unusual for fishermen - knowing their families depend on their hauls - to fear that too many boats after the same fish may mean that some will be left to go short. It's a rare month when I don't have to deal with clashes between boats. Frame that in not rival boats from the same city but entire fishing fleets that may not even be from the same kingdoms..."
"And then there are the Free Cities." Davos shook his head. "While winters in Essos aren't quite as severe as here, the Bravosi do have an extensive fishing fleet."
"I don't think we want to fight a naval war in the winter against Braavos. Or the other Free Cities, for that matter." King Robert leant back in the throne. "An emissary to the Sealord may be in order."
Davos bowed towards the King. "As the North is likely to face food shortages sooner than the rest of Westeros, squadrons of the Royal Navy have begun charting the best fishing grounds to the east and west, starting with the Bay of Ice and the Bay of Seals. Since the Wildlings have no known nautical traditions, there should be no real conflict in fishing the north-western Shivering Sea or along the Frozen Shore."
"I suppose that that makes sense." Hoster Tully scratched his chin. "When you send an emissary, your grace, may my son Edmure and a small party accompany them? My house has business with the Iron Bank."
"Oh?"
Robert's masked surprise was understandable, Ned thought. Relations between Riverrun and King's Landing had been lukewarm since Hoster resigned as Master of Coins. Even the fact that Ser Brynden Tully now led the Royal Guards didn't help since Hoster would have much rather his brother wed on completing seven years of service. Instead the Blackfish had dominated the Royal Tourney three years ago and been rewarded by a second term of service.
"I'm looking for a loan from the Iron Bank and some Braavosi master builders to help me with some bridges." Ned noted that Hoster's smile was more than a little sly. "It seems to me that connecting the River Road to the King's Road through Fairmarket would significantly ease sending food north from the western Riverlands."
"You can't do that!" came an enraged bellow from Walder Frey.
His protest was met with shouts of derision from lords with less than flattering views of the lord of the Twins.
"Order!" demanded Ned. "I will have order!"
That didn't silence everyone until Robert rose to his feet and lifted his hammer. "SHUT! UP!" The bellow cut across the entire space - more than one lord near the dais clapped hands to ears.
Cold blue Baratheon eyes swept the room. "You may have your say in turn," the King said after a cool silence. "But when my good right hand calls for order then there will be order."
No one dared challenge that command and he looked deliberately around the lords again before sitting.
Ned watched the lords who had risen to shout take their seats again. "Lord Frey, I believe you were speaking?"
"My House, the Freys, bridged the Green Fork. What need is there for another bridge?"
"The Twins are inconveniently far to the north and west for Riverrun," replied Hoster confidently. "You'll still sit astride the best trade route from the Vale to Seagard, but a middle road between Darry and the Twins would be useful too."
"It took years to build our bridge, do you think that you can build one before winter comes - especially where the Green Fork is wider!" Lord Frey was clearly floundering for reasons that didn't amount to 'because all my weath and power rests on having the only bridge'.
"Lord Frey, your ancestors were working with the resources of a knightly house and doing so in a time when the area was warred over by three different kingdoms." Ned could see that Hoster was enjoying this. "We're at peace and with a loan from the Iron Bank I expect to have a wooden bridge up in two years and stone in three more. Admittedly the latter would be after winter."
Robert made a face as if he wanted to speak but was biting back the words.
Ned leant down. "Your grace."
"Three to one it takes longer than that," the king said under his breath. More loudly: "I appreciate your position, Lord Frey, but the good of the realm takes precedence here. I will consider funding an improvement of the roads between Seagard and the Kingsroad via the Twins, which may offset any lost traffic through your lands."