Pentos.
Berent Tower Residence.
Kurland awoke earlier than usual today. The sky outside the window was still dark, with night's shadows lingering, but he had no intention of returning to sleep. He stretched out his arm, now marked with brown age spots, and pulled the rope beside his bed. A crisp bell rang out beyond the window.
His personal attendant, Blane, entered the room, followed by three maids. One began to wash him, another prepared his clothes, and the third opened the windows to air out the room.
Blane spoke as the maids worked, "My lord, you have three appointments today: a meeting, a tour, and an audience. At breakfast, you'll meet with the head of House Monet. At noon, there's a house council meeting, and in the afternoon, you'll receive a merchant from Gulltown, accompanied by a lord."
Kurland considered this for a moment, then said, "Reschedule the meeting with House Monet for the afternoon along with the merchant from Westeros." He spread his arms, letting the maids clean him, while closing his eyes in thought. An uneasy feeling gnawed at him, as if something significant was on the horizon.
"Yes, my lord," Blane replied.
"Any news from the war in Tyrosh?" Kurland asked.
"None yet, my lord."
"And Viserys?"
"We don't have much information, but I heard he was in Tyrosh before the war and bought a mine."
Kurland opened his eyes, casting a dismissive glance at Blane before scoffing, "A mine? How impatient these young men are." In his mind, Viserys's actions were nothing more than petty attempts to seize assets early—a move Kurland saw as foolish and transparent. He was now utterly convinced that Viserys wouldn't dare make any bolder moves.
Just then, a commotion outside caught Kurland's attention, and he frowned. "What's happening out there?"
Blane peered out the window and recognized the source of the noise. "It's Waboh. He looks very anxious."
Waboh, a member of House Berent stationed in the west, primarily served as an informant and intermediary. Though he commanded a small force of about a hundred men, Kurland never expected him to engage in combat.
"No," Kurland muttered, his frown deepening. "If he's this desperate to see me, it must be something important."
"Let him in."
Waboh hurried into the room, a large bruise darkening his face.
"What happened to you?" Kurland demanded.
"The city gates, my lord! A group of rebels—Illyrio's men—they've taken control of the city!"
"Rebels? Calm down and tell me everything! How many are there?"
As Waboh relayed the situation, Kurland grew more confused. 'Sellswords? Illyrio's men? What a chaotic mess.' But when he heard that there were only 300 to 500 rebels, his tension eased.
"Only 300 to 500? What's the fuss about? Send out the guard and drive them off! Take my Unsullied with you!"
"Yes, my lord!" Waboh responded, turning to leave. But before he could exit, another scout burst into the room, even more disheveled, dust-covered, with a broken arrow protruding from his back.
"My lord, we're under attack! There are thousands of them—almost ten thousand! They've already breached the walls!"
Kurland felt a tremor of fear. "How many?"
The gravity of the situation hit him like a blow. Ten thousand men—a full-scale assault on Pentos. But one thing didn't add up: Where had this massive force come from? It was as if they'd materialized out of thin air. Westeros? But when had the lords of Westeros begun conspiring with his own people? This was completely unlike their usual tactics.
Kurland's mind raced, his composure unraveling. The man who thrived only when the winds were favorable now found himself exposed.
"My lord, we must flee through the tunnel!" Blane urged.
"Yes, my lord, let's escape through the tunnel!" Waboh, ever fearful of death, quickly agreed.
Kurland looked around the room. Blane and Waboh stared at him expectantly, while the maids trembled in fear. They were defenseless—if an army broke in, they could do nothing but submit.
Kurland hesitated. The thought of leaving meant abandoning his power, severing his ties to this place forever. Yet he still had a substantial fortune in the Iron Bank, and dying here would be a terrible waste. Even if he considered his family, their only chance of survival hinged on his escape.
Reluctantly, he made his decision.
"Go! Gather the Unsullied to escort us!"
"Yes, my lord!" Waboh and Blane responded in unison.
By the time Kurland received the news, Viserys and his forces had already captured half of Pentos's walls and seized control of the Pentos Palace. The outcome was all but decided. Many of the soldiers in Pentos were deeply in debt, using military service as a means to repay what they owed. When Viserys commanded his troops to fight, he shouted, "Drop your weapons, and your debts will be forgiven!"
The debt-ridden soldiers crumbled at the first sign of resistance, with some even pledging their allegiance to Viserys on the spot. It was estimated that the entire city of Pentos would fall within two hours.
"Webber! Webber!" Viserys called out to his nearby lieutenant.
"My lord!" Webber responded, his loyalty to Viserys unwavering. The changes Viserys had orchestrated in the past year were more profound than those of the previous decade.
"Take your battalion and support the captain. Kurland has escaped to the north with a hundred Unsullied. Be careful!"
"Yes, my lord!" Webber replied, and though Viserys was giving orders to another commander as if he were one himself, no one found it unusual. On the contrary, it felt natural, as if it were the most appropriate course of action.
This operation in Pentos was more akin to a coup d'état than a conventional battle—a strategic game of capturing strongholds, not merely cutting off heads. Viserys understood Hoyt's perspective, though. At sixty years old, even if Hoyt succeeded in taking Pentos, how many more years did he have left? For Hoyt, this was about vengeance, not conquest.
But Viserys had different ambitions. He wanted territory. To that end, he had even halted Connington, who was intent on capturing Illyrio, allowing them to take advantage of the situation to gain control over all the nobles in the city. House Berent and all those affiliated with them had to be completely subdued.
Of course, this didn't mean Illyrio would escape unscathed. Viserys ordered Regis to lead a group and take control of Illyrio's estate.