Jon nodded and dismissed the council, leaving only Varys behind. He gestured for the eunuch to follow him, and walked out of the council chamber. He had many questions for Varys, and he hoped he would get some answers. He was not sure if he could trust the spider, but he had no choice.
Varys knew more than he shared, that much even Jon realized, but there was something else that the eunuch knew, something that Jon felt he would not like to hear, and that made the old Hand of the King anxious. Whatever it was, it would have to stop one way or the other, otherwise, King's landing will slowly starve into rebellion, one that the realm would never heal from.
Once the last and oldest member of the council left the room, Jon turned his head towards the smiling bald man.
"Varys, I need you to be honest with me. Do you know anything about this sudden boycott on trade that is crippling the city?" Jon asked bluntly, surprising the spider slightly.
"My lord, you know I serve the realm. I hear many things, but I do not always know the truth behind them," Varys spoke in his soft voice, something that Jon was not enjoying as he didn't had time for such games when the stability of the realm was at stake.
"Varys, I am not a fool. I know you have spies everywhere. You know more than anyone else in this city. You know who is behind this plot, and why they are doing it. Tell me, or by the Seven, I will have you thrown into the black cells."
Varys raised his eyebrows, once again curious just how further will the Hand go to ensure his foster-son's throne.
"My lord, you wound me. I am the Iron Throne loyal servant, and I would never betray it. But I must warn you, the truth is not pleasant. It may even shock you. Are you sure you want to hear it?"
Jon nodded already having a bad feeling about this.
"Very well, then. The boycott on trade is not a random act of discontent. It is a deliberate scheme, orchestrated by someone really close to you, my lord. It pains me to tell you this, but you are the reason behind this my lord, after all if you hadn't told Lord Stannis to try to break the engagement between your son and his soon-to-be wife, then none of this would have happened."
It took every ounce of willpower for Jon not to show any emotion when he heard that he was the reason behind this whole mess. He will never deny what he did, but in his mind, that was the best choice to make in that moment, after all there were many a better option for a wife for his son, than some Volantene girl whose father is just the current leader of a city. But not even in his wildest dreams, would have Jon Arryn thought that his son, flesh and blood of his, would go against him for such an insignificant reason.
Taking a deep breath, Jon turns his head back to Varys.
"Thank you for not beating around the bush, Varys. However, I have to ask you, is there any way to resolve this peacefully? "
Varys, for the first time in a while, didn't know how to answer this question. He had thought of some ways to end the boycott, but none of them would last. They would only anger the person behind it, and make him more determined to ruin the crown. If Petery Baelish was to be here, he would have said that the only way to stop this crisis was to remove the source of it, but its was clear as day that Jon would not be willing to do that.
"My lord, I wish I could tell you that there is an easy solution, but there is none. And while there might be a less noble way, I'm sure you will not approve it."
It didn't took a genius to realize what Varys was hinting at and as soon as he heard it, Jon shook his head.
"No, you are right Varys. I will never order the death of my son, not even if he's the reason behind this whole mess."
"My lord, I respect your decision, but I must ask you to consider the consequences of your actions. The trade boycott is not only hurting the crown, but also the people of the Seven Kingdoms. The prices of goods are rising, the merchants are losing profits, the smallfolk are suffering from hunger and disease. The longer this goes on, the more unrest and discontent will spread. And I don't need to remind you who will take advantage of that? "
Varys paused, letting his words sink in. Soon, Jon's expression change, from anger to worry. It was no secret that Jon cared deeply about the realm, and that he had sacrificed much to serve it. To be honest, Varys hoped that Jon would see the bigger picture, and realize that his personal feud with his son was not worth risking the fate of the realm.
"My lord, there is still a way to end this crisis peacefully, without harming your son or his bride. You could arrange a meeting with Konrad, and offer him a compromise. You could allow him to marry the Volantene girl, but only if he agrees to some conditions. For example, you could ask him to renounce his claim to the Vale, and name one of your future sons as your heir. Or you could ask him to send his wife and any children they may have to the capital, as hostages for his good behavior. There are many options, my lord, but the key is to make him feel that he has a choice, and that you respect his wishes."
For the first time in a good while, Jon felt like he aged ten years. Deep down, he knew that his impulsive decision of having Stannis try to break the engagement might come back and bite them, but never, not even in his wildest dreams, did Jon Arryn thought it would so bad.
The peace that Robert had managed to attain after crushing the Greyjoys was hanging by a thread right now, and even the smallest spark could ignite another, more devasting rebellion that the realm will never recover from.
Letting out a sigh, the old hand of the king, once again turned his head towards the eunuch.
"I know you can do this, so please Varys, for the sake of the realm, make this meeting possible. I don't care how, but make it happen."
Nodding, Varys raised up from his seat and his a slight bow, he left the room, leaving Jon all alone to think about his past mistakes, starting with the day he allow Robert to become a womanizer.
Dealing with the Dothraki was possible one of the worst things a man could be forced to do, and yet, among all of the men and women loyal to his lord, Tyrek was the only one, capable enough to make those savages act like some proper human beings.
Today was the first official time, Tyrek would meet with the leader, whatever he was called, of these savages and see if they would finally stop harassing the merchant's caravans heading towards Volantis. The Khal, as they named him, was some no name, but he had a few thousand warriors following him. Tyrek had heard stories of his brutality and of how he had united several khalasars under his banner, and of how he had ambitions to conquer more than a savage like could chew.
Tyrek rode his horse, followed by no less than forty armoured knights to the edge of the Dothraki camp, where they were greeted by a dozen of the Khal's bloodriders. They wore no armour, only leather and fur, and carried curved swords and bows. They were primitive compared to the armoured knights seen in Westeros, but speed and harassing where they way the fought.
Those savages eyed Tyrek and his men with what Tyrek could only describe as fear, as if he was some kind of monstrosity coming in their home.
"Who are you?" After a few tense minutes of staring, a slave woman was brought forward by one of the bloodriders , and while she spoke in a broken Common Tongue, it was more than enough for Tyrek to understand her.
"I am Tyrek Lannister, envoy of Lord Konrad Arryn. I am here to speak with your Khal, on behalf of my lord and his father-in-law. Tell him to come out and meet me, or I will burn his tents and slaughter his horses."
The slave woman gasped and translated his words to the bloodriders, who looked outraged when they heard the translation. It didn't took long at all for them to begin shouting and cursing at Tyrek, reaching for their weapons. As soon as the first swords have been drawn, The Teutonic knights drew their swords and formed a protective circle around Tyrek.
But before any blood was spilled, a loud and commanding voice echoed from the center of the camp. Looking behind the bloodriders, Tyrek saw a tall and muscular middle-aged man, with long black hair and a thick beard. Judging by how everyone was looking at him, that must be their Khal.
The man shouted something at the slave women and she quickly run away, leaving Tyrek and his knights in a stand off against the Khal and his bloodriders.
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