"My good men, I am so glad you could make it," I said, every ounce of the amicable man of business I had been a lifetime ago. When I had sent my intermediaries to purchase the struggling inns, I had also dispatched some messengers to ask the singers of the city to meet with me at the Sea Drake, the finest of my many establishments.
That I was joined by my sister in the large meeting room on the second floor was probably not a point in my favor. Neither were the seven knights who had chosen to follow me inside, but likely for different reasons.
But they were here. Nothing I could do about that.
"It is our privilege," a man just barely past his prime said, his hair marked with a handsome amount of grey. "Though while I appreciate being able to meet with a son of His Grace King Jaehaerys, I am hardly alone in wondering why your Grace invested so much time and effort into arranging such a meeting."
The 'meeting', if you could call it that, involved most of the most successful singers in the city. And the most ambitious singers. At least, those who chose to attend. These men would become the foundation of my personal intelligence network, whether they knew it or not.
They were a motley sort, ranging from the aging and finely dressed man to the preening young fools who had barely completed their apprenticeship. Some might have scoffed at relying on their kind, but I was not a man to be restrained by prejudice and preconception. Opportunity waited wherever man dared to look.
"I have a business proposition," I said, still keeping an even smile plastered on my face. This was not the smile of a man about to screw another out of all of his savings, no. This was the smile of a man who had every intention of helping the ones across from him, if only because it helped him, too. "One which I believe you may find interesting."
"What kind of proposition?" one of the annoyingly comely younger singers asked. I made a note to keep him away from my sisters. No doubt he would shower Saera with the attention she so loved. "It's not a feast, is it? No feast needs three score singers. Perhaps a wedding, then? They are always such lively events."
"His Grace did not come alone," another singer remarked, pointing out the eight who had accompanied me. "He's here on official business, more like than not."
"I am indeed," I confirmed, nodding gratefully towards the clever singer. "Though the business is mine. I have a proposition for all men of your trade."
"Your business?" The comely singer asked, confusion clouding his looks.
"Yes, my business," I repeated, keeping my tone level but fixing my eyes on the singer in question. Ordinarily, I would have swept my gaze across the crowd before me, but this called for a diplomatic rebuke. "I may be young, but that does not mean I lack for wits."
Somebody in the crowd snickered, quickly joined by a few more, while the foolish singer sunk into his seat. All the while, my gaze remained leveled at the idiot who did not understand how protocol worked.
Luckily, the work I was willing to entrust to people like him was hardly delicate.
"Singers frequently traverse the Seven Kingdoms, do they not?" I asked, looking away from the fool in favor of his colleagues. "Travel from village to village, from town to town?"
A chorus of assent greeted me, some merely nodding, but a few gave voice to their opinions.
"You know we do," the aging singer said, folding his arms across his chest. Clearly, he was the one who needed persuading. "Just make your point, your Grace."
"I would like to buy your records of which songs are most popular in which town and village," I said without further preamble, enjoying the complete look of shock that crossed their faces. "Everyone who agrees will have access to the collected records."
Dead silence greeted my words.
Truth be told, I had expected as much. Tell a man you wanted to buy his trade secrets to share with his rivals, and you were likely to earn a similar reaction. If I were just another man, the singers would laugh in my face and leave. End of story.
But a prince? Oh, they would listen to what a prince had to say, if only because it was a prince. And because a prince usually had access to plenty of coin.
"You want us to give up our secrets to our competitors?" Another singer asked, this one a bland-looking young man whose clothes were a mottled green. No doubt part of his act, of his stage persona, but that was exactly important at the time.
"You are not giving up your secrets," I corrected. "You will pay for the information others have gathered with your information."
"And what do you get out of this?" The bland singer asked again, still ignoring all proper rules of etiquette. On one hand, it was promising for getting honest information. On the other, how could one trust a man who did not even offer the barest courtesies?
Luckily for the singer, I had enough self-control to not rise to the bait.
"Information," I said simply. "How much can you learn from the preferences of a string of villages in the Reach?" The assembled singers said nothing, likely unaware that the question was not, in fact, rhetorical. "How much from the preferences of all the villages in the Reach? Over several years? The information would be worth quite a lot of coin to the right people."
Slouches straightened out and relaxed backs leaned forwards to listen more closely as I earned their attention. The idea that the kind of information so many of them learned and internalized as they performed their trade could line their pockets further had to be tempting.
"What's to stop us from going to someone else who wants this information?" asked the older singer. He seemed to know his courtesies if nothing else.
"Aside from the fact that you would all need to stand together? The fact that each individual's information is nearly worthless without everyone else's?" I asked in turn. "Even if you all decided to reject my offer, and you have yet to hear the rest of it, you would not even know whom to approach to sell your information."
"I would hear the rest of his offer," one singer in the crowd stated, but I could not tell who. A younger man, that much I knew, but little else. Perhaps I should have started with a smaller sample instead of every significant singer in the city.
"As would I," another agreed.
"And I!" Shouted yet another. More and more sounds of assent came quickly, blending like wine and water, each speaker's words drowned out by his neighbors.
Oh, how disjointed and chaotic these singers were. Not that it was truly surprising, each was in competition with every other singer in the room, but it still took an effort to keep a grin from growing on my face.
"My offer is simple," I said truthfully. "You will provide me with a detailed ledger of which songs are popular in which towns and villages you visit. In exchange, you will have access to the collected ledgers of all who choose to accept this deal. In addition, you will be eligible to stay at any of my inns in the city for half of the cost. Three months' work for a week's stay."
It was a damned good deal if I said so myself. Access to information that could drastically improve their incomes from singing. A way to reduce their cost of living by simply keeping a record of their work. Improved living conditions when they took a break.
And I got a crude system of informants that tracked public perception. One I could share with the Small Council, once it proved useful. For a price, preferably.
"Which inns are these?" The older singer asked after a moment of thought.
"The Drakes," I answered, referencing the nickname they had picked up. A welcome side-effect of having a consistent naming scheme. "Along with the Singing Thrush, the Red Cabaret, and Old Wes'." At their confused looks, I elaborated. "Newer acquisitions."
"And the records you want us to keep?" Another asked. "Will you be providing the paper, ink, and quills you want us to use?"
"Of course," I said, acting as though I were offended at the very notion that I would not provide my potential workers with the tools they needed to uphold their end of the bargain. "They will be distributed seven days after acceptance of my offer."
I let a pleased smile grow on my face. This was what I did best. I might have been a damned good fighter, but the world of business was my true area of expertise. Even as negotiations stretched on for hours, even as I could sense my escort start to fidget behind me, I was calm.
This was what I did best, after all. I had a lifetime of experience in the field, after all.
And in a way, establishing my own personal intelligence network was more important than wealth. My family was only growing, after all. And I would rather charge the Black Dread on foot than let them fall to preventable crises.
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Hey guys I really need you to throw some power stones to elevate the ranking Since this is a new story :)
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