When Illyrio spoke of letting Daenerys “shed a little blood,” a lecherous smile crept into the corners of his eyes.
The euphemistic way he put it made Connington feel sick.
At the same time, however, he couldn’t help wondering whether marrying Daenerys to a Dothraki would really be enough to make them send an army west.
What were the odds of the plan actually succeeding?
While Connington was wrestling with those questions, Belwas arrived to deliver a message.
“Master, the young master has come to see you.”
“Make him wait.”
Illyrio’s brows furrowed, and a trace of irritation and disgust appeared in his eyes.
But in the very next moment, a voice rang out from a considerable distance away.
“Old man!
You’re here again?”
The arrogant voice interrupted their conversation.
A flicker of displeasure appeared in Jon Connington’s eyes as well, and he turned toward the source of the voice.
The sight of Aegon’s silver-gold hair made him hesitate for a moment.
Yet the young man’s behavior was worlds apart from what he remembered of Prince Rhaegar.
In Westeros, silver hair was practically a hallmark of House Targaryen.
But in the Free Cities, Connington had seen far too many people with silver hair and purple eyes.
Illyrio had explained that his wife, Serra, had possessed silver hair and purple eyes as well, and that the boy had simply inherited his mother’s features.
“My…
my son,” Illyrio said awkwardly.
By then, Aegon had already reached them.
“Old man?
Oh?
And who might this gentleman be?”
“This is Lord Griffin, Young Griff’s father.”
“Good day.”
Aegon nodded toward Jon Connington.
Of course, he knew exactly who the man was.
But at a time like this, he still had to maintain his image as a spoiled young wastrel.
There was no way he could simply say:
Connington, I’m Rhaegar’s real son.
Take me with you!
First of all, he had absolutely no evidence to prove his identity.
And revealing himself recklessly would only invite disaster.
There were people in Pentos who might gladly take his head to King Robert in exchange for a handsome reward.
Illyrio himself might very well decide to kill him.
To this day, Aegon still had no idea why Illyrio had spared his life in the first place, so he continued playing the role Illyrio wanted him to play.
There was another reason as well.
Illyrio’s enormous fortune, combined with the current state of Pentoshi society, made Aegon feel that there was tremendous potential here.
The governors of Pentos had squeezed the lower classes so brutally that the entire city had become little more than a pile of dry kindling.
All it needed was a tiny spark…
Of course, Aegon didn’t yet have the conditions necessary to light that fire.
As for Robert and his so-called stag, eagle, wolf, and fish alliance, in another two years it would explode on its own.
There was no need to rush. This story is hosted at novelping.com.
When the time came, he could simply reap the rewards.
For now, his most urgent priority was to strengthen himself.
Seeing Aegon greet him, Jon Connington returned the gesture out of courtesy.
But before he had even finished, Aegon turned toward Illyrio.
“Old man, give me some money.
I need it.”
“How much do you need?”
Illyrio had long since grown accustomed to Aegon asking him for money.
“Ten thousand Pentoshi gold coins.”
“How much?”
Illyrio’s eyebrows nearly shot into the air.
He cried out as though someone had just stepped on his foot.
Illyrio was indulgent toward Aegon, but his fortune was ultimately meant for Young Griff.
How could he allow Aegon to squander it so recklessly?
Even the corner of Connington’s eye twitched when he heard the figure.
This boy really has the nerve to ask for that much.
“Ten thousand gold coins.
Which part of what I said did you not hear?”
Aegon emphasized every word.
“I need to buy horses.
I also need to recruit more soldiers.
The field cavalry is supposed to have more than three hundred men, but right now there are only a little over a hundred.
I need to recruit at least another two hundred.
Otherwise, what am I supposed to do when war comes?”
“That’s not something you need to worry about.”
Illyrio could only sigh helplessly.
He had originally assumed Aegon’s sudden interest in the army was nothing more than a young man’s desire to experience something new.
The fact that Illyrio had already spent money buying him an officer’s position should have been more than enough.
Money didn’t grow on trees.
He simply couldn’t afford to let Aegon spend it at this rate.
Illyrio knew better than most just how many gold dragons it took to maintain an army.
And the number was staggering.
Even a cavalry force of three hundred men was a considerable burden for Illyrio, despite his wealth.
Pentos nominally had forty governors jointly controlling the city, but in reality, only two or three of them possessed enough power and influence for their words to carry any real weight.
Only those men could afford to maintain private forces numbering more than a thousand.
“Are you sure you’re not giving me the money?” Aegon demanded, folding his arms across his chest.
“Don’t even think about it.”
Illyrio’s patience was wearing thin.
“Fine.
Then I’ll sell one of your ships.
It’ll amount to the same thing.”
Watching Aegon behave like a spoiled young wastrel, Jon Connington secretly shook his head.
He couldn’t help thinking of the humble and diligent true prince, and he felt secretly relieved by the contrast.
“How dare you?
I’ll have you locked up!”
Then I’ll go into the army and investigate who has been embezzling my military pay.”
Aegon’s threat made Illyrio feel as though his head were about to split open.
He absolutely could not allow this boy to investigate.
What if he actually uncovered something?
That would bring him endless trouble.
Illyrio’s rise to power had only begun within the past decade or two.
Unlike some of Pentos’s other governors, he did not have roots that ran particularly deep.
So, in the end, he had no choice but to compromise.
“I don’t have ten thousand.
Five thousand at most.”
“Eight thousand!”
“Six thousand.”
…
After a round of haggling, the nominal father and son finally reached an agreement.
Satisfied with the result, Aegon swaggered away.
Illyrio, meanwhile, repeatedly apologized to Connington.
“I’m sorry you had to witness that, my lord.
I’ve spoiled the boy terribly since he was young.
His mother died early, just like that child…”
Jon Connington nodded without saying anything.
What he didn’t know was that Illyrio had deliberately allowed Aegon to display such an embarrassing and worthless side of himself in front of Connington.
He wanted to completely destroy any connection between Aegon and the image of the prince Connington held in his heart.
Seeing that Connington still seemed hesitant about his plan to form an alliance with the Dothraki, Illyrio continued trying to persuade him.
“If we succeed in forming an alliance with the Dothraki, then when they eventually attack Westeros, won’t they still have to rely on Pentos for supplies?
We’ll have plenty of opportunities to bring the little princess back.”
“That’s not my only concern.”
Connington shook his head.
“I’ve seen how those Dothraki behave.
Whenever they attack a place, they insist on killing and plundering everything in sight.
They kill the men, rape the women, sell the children…”
Connington was deeply conflicted.
If their plan succeeded, what would become of the innocent people of Westeros?
“Those are sacrifices that cannot be avoided, Lord Connington!”
Illyrio spoke solemnly.
“The Dothraki have no ships.
If they want to return home, they’ll have no choice but to rely on us.
When that time comes, how could we possibly stand by and allow them to do whatever they please?”
Illyrio tried to reassure him, but the conflict in Connington’s heart remained.
Back then, because of his fierce moral convictions, he had refused to kill Robert at Stoney Sept.
That decision had indirectly contributed to the fall of House Targaryen.
Could it be that now, because of those same moral convictions, he would once again become the reason the Targaryens failed to reclaim the Iron Throne?
“Let me think about it, Lord Illyrio.
Let me think…”