Game of Thrones: Paladin of Old Gods - Chapter 140: The Great Bet (I)

Chapter 140: The Great Bet (I)

POV: Tycho Nestoris

Less than fifty feet from the Lady of Winterfell.

Seconds after, the Champion of Braavos was forced to accept a Trial By Combat…

‘An unexpected situation, to say the least. All the nobles and commoners hang on that boy’s lips… ‘ Tycho instinctively snapped his tongue, subtly grinding his teeth.

To Bank of Iron, let alone the Sealord of Braavos, Gelledo counted for nothing.

Ferredo had reached his limit with that troubled boy. His son had been guilty of the most debauched crimes in the past decade, and the Sealord was tired of milking wheels and gears to clean up and cover up that murderer’s shenanigans…

Less than two moons ago, a poor merchant father, who had nothing left to lose, prayed to the Many-Faced Gods for Gelledo to receive ‘the Gift.’

Unbeknownst to Ferredo, the Iron Bank interposed with the Sect Leader of the House of Black and White to postpone the ‘Gift,’ promising the sure return of the Name to the Many-Faced God of Death by the end of the year.

It was a risky gamble; the Iron Bank was to pay a tribute of Gerredo’s weight in silver to the House of Black and White for each day of delay … but after the spectacle he had just witnessed, Tycho was convinced that the game was worth the candle.

Bloody Snow had to fall …

After the boy’s epic display of power, the Warden elevated him in his mind as {Threat No. 1′ of the Titan}.

Longspoon, the Green King, The Old Man of Oldtown, The King in The Yellow, The Watcher, Aegon Targaryen, and the Nine Demons had just been downgraded because of a single hymn of glory that nearly shook the foundations of the hill.

Duncan Tallhart seemed very confident about winning. But the boy was not to sing victory, so soon-Gelledo stood among the top ten Water Dancers of Braavos.

If Bloody Snow had chosen to fight with armour, Valyrian steel, and his own style… well, their champion-sicarian’s chances of victory would have been less than 10 to 1 at the very least…

But wielding a braavosi rapier in standard hardened steel, in the Dance-of-Gelledo and without Karstark leather and Forged Steel, the chances splashed to 1 in 3 in Tycho’s mathematical mind.

Gelledo also had that ‘hidden card up his sleeve’ that would almost certainly take the under-equipped Hero of the North by surprise…

‘Perhaps even 40 %, if not 45 %, thanks to the surprise effect,’ the chances of crashing a dangerous future Titan threat here and now were not so low.

The investments made were worth the risk…

It did not matter too much if Gelledo failed to kill Bloody Snow. What mattered most to the Titan at the moment was information…

Now the Council of Thirteen knew what had to be done, even at the cost of attracting the enmity of the Fourth Organization.

The Iron Bank would pay those 4,159,265 gold coins to the House of Black and White.

It was a certainty as solid as mathematics that the ‘price’ for Bloody Snow’s Name would inevitably rise with each waiting moon… The boy no longer enjoyed the protection of The Watcher; the council had to strike now or never.

The Name Duncan Tallhart ‘Categorically’ had to be given to the Many-Faced Gods before it was too late. If Gelledo and the Many-Faced Gods failed, the Titan would have to seek cooperation with ‘other forces.’

And if that was not enough, there remained no other alternative…

It would have been ‘Total War’ against the First Men.

A tremendous war that would squander rivers of blood and gold would not end until the new city of Waterdeep became ashes, the last stone of Torrhen’s Square collapsed, and the last Tallhart Name was erased from World History.

All that remained for the Iron Bank was to figure out Who, How, and When.

A World War had to be avoided, ‘if possible’.

Carcosa and Oldtown were eager to oust Braavos from first place.

The Titan had not yet been forgiven for the cunning deceptions of the Iron Bank in World War III … nor had Braavos’ mass supply of relics, treasures and Valyrian steel just before the fall of Valyria been forgotten.

‘If the Spider Queen chose to give full support to House Tallhart, a direct war would be too dangerous and obscenely expensive. Besides…’

Tycho tried to catch Chai Dug’s gaze…and detached it in the next instant.

‘That mad warmonger is waiting for nothing else!’ Tycho got goosebumps at the mere contact with the Archwizard’s eyes.

The King in The Yellow was undoubtedly the most belligerent and bloodthirsty Sovereign that Carcosa had in the last two millennia.

No one could stop Chai Duq from running amok. Only The Guardian of Magic could give orders to that individual. And only The Watcher was able to reason with the War-Wizard-Demon.

It was only thanks to the current Guardian of Love that, for the past three decades, the Confederation of Mages had remained neutral and quiet…

Losing the friendship and support of The Watcher meant losing one of the two containment barriers that prevented the War-Wizard Leader from unleashing rains of fire and lightning on the Braavosians.

Carcosa was a big problem–Braavos could not rely on their most powerful weapon to attack…

If the Titan chose to invade the lands of the First Men, The Shrouded Lord and his armies had to remain to protect the borders to the east. Otherwise, the Mage Confederacy would have wrested from them at least a third of their domains and valuable sources of income…

‘I wonder if Oldtown would accept any cooperation?” Tycho sought the gaze of the calm and impassive Lord Leyton. Even The Old Man of Oldtown seemed seething at the dangerous spectacle he had just witnessed.

Would Oldtown trust Braavos? More importantly, could the Braavosians trust the Andals?

The task would have been a daunting one. Their common enemy was not yet dangerous enough to force the two wary towns to cooperate…

Lord Leyton, unlike Chai Duq, was a strong promoter of peace; moreover, he too had great respect for The Watcher.

‘The Watcher…’ Tycho eyed the weight of the scales that could weigh or tip the balance of all.

That frail old man was the key to peace and harmony in the Known World…

For more than twenty years, the conflicts in the ‘Eternal Race for Resources’ on the continent of Sothoryos had been masterfully arbitrated by the Fourth World Organization.

The Sons of Light. The Sons of Night. The Iron Company… Sixty thousand men-at-arms abided by every rule and code of honour suggested by the Guardian of Love, bringing profits and reductions in accidents unseen in more than a millennium.

None of the Three World Powers would have wanted to lose the favour of the Guardian of Love lightly, let alone test the patience of the Spider Queen…

No… it was still too risky.

The numbers were not in their favour, and it was crucial to find out where those 41 million had gone… It had not been House Tallhart’s doing, or at least, not directly.

Perhaps another dangerous enemy was lurking. A possible ally of the North…

In any case, the focus of indecision for the Bank remained Madame Zishua’s Organization.

Even if Braavos attempted a partnership with Oldtown, who could guarantee them that the High Tower would not stand by and watch as the Titan lost rivers of blood, gold, and magic, weakening more and more as they attacked the First Men and The Watcher in the West and defended against Carcosa from the East?

From there, the Andals would only have to bide their time to feast on what was left of the Titan and stand as the undisputed First World force.

It was too great an opportunity, and business was business…

Braavos would not hesitate for a moment if they were in Oldtown’s place, and the High Tower was well aware of this.

The greatest weakness of the First World Organization was its own central location.

The Titan Domains were proper in the middle, surrounded on two opposite sides by the Tower and the Sorcerers…

No… the most convenient choice for Braavos was ‘False Neutrality’.

Forcing the Tower and the Sorcerer to consume each other in the North while the Titan continued to accumulate strength and wealth and, with luck, crush all rival forces would elevate his position to a height no longer attainable by ordinary mortals…

Westeros had no shortage of excellent opportunities to destabilize the North.

Cersei Lannister was an example-the Raging Lioness had just sealed with blood the eternal strife and grudge against House Tallhart.

The Old Lion and the Smiling Lion were seeking an alliance with the North; it was apparent, but with a little push, perhaps the West and the North could be forced into a war. And the West was not the only Kingdom envious of the North…

Many lords of the Vale and some of the Trident were other examples… Lady Barbrey Mormont seemed to be dangerous ‘too’ ambitious… On the surface, the North seemed too dangerously united. But was this really the case?

What would have happened if their Hero had fallen? Would House Tallhart always support House Stark, or would they aim for a higher position?

Tycho pondered for a moment on the just-announced future union between Domeric Bolton and Sansa Stark…

That union between House Stark and House Bolton could also create unexpected delicious fruit. Should the male Starks perish due to ‘tragic unforeseen events,’ the Boltons, with the support of House Mormont, would become the new ‘Masters of the North’… but the key question was:

{Would the other Northern lords willingly accept their new lords? Or would a tragic civil war have ensued}? Eddard Stark also had a Bastard named Jon Snow…and many whispers of a bastard-hating Lady of Winterfell had reached the Titan’s ears.

Tycho searched Lady Catelyn Stark’s face, and, to his happy surprise, her gaze seemed very wary and contemptuous of the supposed bastard nicknamed Bloody Snow…

There were still little rotten apples among the lesser nobles of the North, and the Wildlings’ attacks were becoming increasingly reckless and aggressive lately…

‘Reasoning better and with a clearer mind, the Ship of the North still has many leaks on which it can take on water…’ Tycho thought it was worth investing a few more bags of gold in those leaks rather than acting too rashly.

‘Yes… funding instability is and always will be the key opportunity in the cas-‘

“Am I interrupting deep thoughts, Director Tycho?” A tremendously familiar voice made poor Braavosian’s heart swallow.

“Gulp… Couff, coff… Honourable maes- coff… Zick. No… Coff… I beg your pardon…” The saliva went tremendously sideways.

*Pack!* “Come on, Director! Don’t die on me here before the show! Ahahah!” To Tycho’s surprise, the two resounding and ill-mannered pats on the back seemed to help him considerably to regain air.

“Please, Will, could you get our poor Director some water?”

“Right away, Master.” Not even ten seconds later, a cup of water came to help.

“Thank you… Coff! Surpl… anf… anf, much better. Thank you, master. Thank you, Sir Will.”

“You’re welcome, Director. The blame for his discomfort was mine alone, after all.

So, Mr Tycho,…the Sealord and Ser Helman sure have two turbulent boys, huh? Ahahah!

…Your opinion on that?” It was futile to lie to The Watcher.

That man could read the soul and thoughts of any individual who stood before him. Not even the Sect Leader of the House of Black and White, the best faceless man ever, could hide the truth from that gaze.

Lying was useless, but good manners were always appreciated…

“Yes, you may well say, master… Braavos hopes this little ‘incident’ has not soured this festive day too much, Honorable Guardian…”

“No, no, you’re welcome, Warden. It would take more than that to anger me or old Zishua. Ahahahah!

Fear not, Sir Nestoris! As the Dothraki say:

[A marriage turns out to be boring if there are not at least three mortal duels to honour it!] Ahahaha!” The old Guardian’s laughter was always disturbing.

“Ahaha… Right, if-” Tycho was interrupted.

“Of course, that boy Gelledo is quite a pepper, isn’t he?

He is a skilled swordsman, and he almost seems to act as if he has nothing to lose in the deadly clash that will follow…” Nestoris swallowed.

“And look at his bearing, the confidence in his shoulders, chest and neck… See how relaxed he is?

It’s as if… I don’t know, as if he’s wearing some kind of very comfortable armour that he’s very confident about…

It’s not Acromantula Silk, is it?” Tycho petrified. Still, the House of Black and White had guaranteed the incredible camouflage work in Gelledo’s clothes!

The best tailors and best spellcasters worked on that garment-over 140,000 gold coins invested.

“Ah, it is then… So you have gifted your turbulent boy with just such a beautiful, tailor-made trinket, no doubt about it…

I wonder how? Mmm… the shirt looks like common silk… Then, how?

Aaah… I get it.

The farsettos and leather pants! And I suppose gloves and boots too then…

The tailors did incredible craftsmanship to sew the fabric inside two layers.

Two layers that look like one… Is there some trick to deceive the eye, I wonder? Still, the weight of the clothes seems consistent with the musculature and relaxation…” Tycho’s mouth refused to open to channel air…

“I don’t think Braavos can conceal a magical object from Noble Chai Duq, and I don’t think the Titan would be so rude as not to declare such an object to his guarantor host…

So… where will the trick be?

[A magical object that itself is not magical.] … mmm… quite a riddle.”

The Watcher seemed amused by the dilemma, but his two fellow bodyguards, Will and Ramas, did not seem so in the mood for riddles… On the contrary, both expert assassins seemed to be dying to torture someone to wrest the whole truth from him and bring justice…

The tension in the air was as solid as stone, and each breath was a monumental effort.

“Ah! I may have found… I am certainly not an arcanist, but my good friend Sorcerer is sometimes rather long-winded on scientific topics…

Ah, but don’t tell him I said that, please. Chai would be hurt.” Tycho nodded with a clear message:

[I would never dare! I will take the secret to the Tomb!]

“Yes, as I was saying… There was a very rare branch of magic that, if I remember correctly, was called…

‘Transmutation Magic’? Ah, did I guess right?

Ahahaha! then my memory is not as bad as I thought!

Transmutation, of course! A magic so different but at the same time so similar to illusion.

Yet, if I remember correctly, the Chief Sorcerer guaranteed that the noble arcane art of ‘Transmutation’ is considered ‘Forbidden’ if used in the neutral zone by a wizard or witch who does not hold the explicit permission of the Confederation, and, again if my memory serves me right… ‘Transmutation spells’ are even firmly constrained between and not beyond the borders of the Starry City and Asshai of Shadows.

Carcosa would really pay a good coin for anyone who would bestow a piece of information for any Rogue Wizard or Witch intent on illicit profits from such forbidden arts…

It was one’s own weight in gold if I’m not mistaken, am I right, Ramas?”

“A base reward of one’s own weight in silver for anyone who reports illegal magic, and the weight in gold for the head of every rogue spellcaster in the first circle. The reward triples exponentially for each arcane circle of said Rogue-Wizard or Witch, Master.” So promptly replied the soulless voice, yearning for lives to be reaped.

“Ah, right, right, thank you, Ramas… Hear my good friend?

The boy made his bones in the Street of Steel for two years as a bounty hunter.

Ramas is a real expert on wanted criminals and Rogue Sorcerers. Ahahah!”

‘Forbidden Magic?! Rogue Wizard?!’ Tycho was totally unaware of said violation.

He had not been in charge of the assignment, let alone knew the details!

The Vice-President had simply assured him that according to the House of Black and White, the armour was not by definition a magical item and that no violations of the rules agreed upon by the guarantor had been broken…

They had not broken any rules of The Watcher but were openly insulting Carcosa by violating the rules of the Confederation!

‘If that fool Chai Duq found out, the Sorcerer would come at the very least demand the scalping of every member of the Braavos delegation as compensation!

…Berbo, if I make it back to Braavos alive, I swear I’ll pour buckets of gold out of my pocket to hire the worst street scum and feed you to the crabs in the Black Boatman’s sewers!’

Now Tycho understood the move of his envious colleague intent on making himself Great in the eyes of the Council.

The President of the Bank had reached a venerable age, and Berbo wanted to eliminate every possible promising competing candidate for the role of Most Powerful Man in the World…

The Vice President had taken it upon himself to acquire as much information as possible about The Watcher and the Fourth Organization. This acrobat trick was to test the true potential of The Guardian of Love and eliminate the competition at the same time!

“O-honorable Guardian, I swear to you by everything I believe in that I knew nothing of such untoward violation to the treaties of neutrality and commercial cooperation between Braavos and Carcosa!

Never would I allow me to benefit from the services of a filthy lawless criminal-witchster.

I give you my word of honour that as soon as I return to Braavos, I will move heaven and earth to see that all those responsible are severely punished!” Said Tycho with all the sincerity and goodwill he could muster.

“Relax, Director. I can see by your look that you are innocent and unaware of any possible violation.

After all, you joined the Council of Thirteen not even a year ago. It takes time to be able to untangle yourself in such a vast World full of unfamiliar rules and cultures.

Neither am I, as mentioned above, an arcanist or one who dabbles in witchy bureaucracy. Ahahah!”

It was a threat…a subtle but unmistakable way of communicating to him that his life was hanging by a thread and that if The Watcher really wanted to, he could legitimately sell him to the ruthless, bloodthirsty, and cruel King in The Yellow!

“No. No, our good friend, the Chief Sorcerer, is enjoying a well-deserved vacation away from that gloomy nest he calls Arcane Tower. And I am certainly not as rigid and inflexible as my sweet, but still ‘tremendously strict,’ foster mother…

No, I had simply come here to ask you for a small favour and a proposition of honest, playful amusement… assuming you care, mind you.” Then, there came a glimmer of light and salvation!

“B-but of curse! Please, Master Zick, don’t be afraid to ask.” The Guardian smiled and continued cheerfully with:

“My boy there has already asked permission from his father, the Master of Torrhen’s Square, to have a complimentary word to propose a little ‘Bet between Gentlemen’ with his challenger, and since poor Gelledo seems not to be on the best of terms with his Sealord father, and you here are the only authoritative delegate from Braavos, I wanted to ask you the favour of granting your boy the same privileges…

Of course, we are talking about wagers within the limits of what the Sealord can offer.” Finally, Tycho inhaled the first natural healthy breath of air since the beginning of the difficult conversation.

“I don’t see why not, master. It is only fair that future noble generations should be given a chance to grow in such trials between gentlemen.

Gelledo has the full support of the ‘Sealord’…” the last word had to be emphasized. It was one thing to wager Ferredo’s personal treasures or funds on the pot, quite another to wager those of the private caves of the Iron Bank…

There were secret and forgotten Treasures-Artifacts in the depths of the Iron Mine that were worth more than every ounce of gold crammed into all of Braavos…

“Ah, well! Glad you agree!

… And what about a possible friendly bet between the Guardian of Love and the Council of Thirteen?

What do you think, Director?”

****

End Part I.

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