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***
P.O.V. Lyon Temper.
295 A.D.
Castle Osgiliath, Valley of the Sunflame, Dorne.
«Son..." His father said slowly, dragging his vowels, looking thoughtfully toward the unloading ships. - What are those?
«Elephants. - As a matter of course, I answered.
«Elephants... Elephants... Elephants... Elephants... - As if tasting the word, changing the emphasis each time, my father spoke, only to explode a second later with a loud shout and a swear word. - I see, pardon the Old Gods, that they are elephants! I ask-what are they doing here!?
Watching my father, a tall, muscular man with graying hair, get cartoonishly angry, pointing his finger in the direction of the three-and-a-half-meter giants that passed by on Elephant Island and Big and Little Morak, I gave an involuntary snicker, which made my parent even angrier at being more fooled than angry.
«You were supposed to go to Turrani. - Said the calmer father, adjusting the folds of his gray, unremarkable coat. If you didn't know it was made entirely of I-thian silk and cost as much as a dozen Unsullied in the markets of Astapor. - How did you end up in the Spice Straits?
«The Spice Guild has gotten the old privileges revoked for all traders from the Free Cities and the Seven Kingdoms, and now our ships have to pay standard duty or go around the Great Marak. - It was not the most pleasant of news. The Quarth charged draconian tolls for passage through the Jade Gate Strait, and often fined and seized the most expensive goods, behaving no better than the pirates of the Steps. Because of this, many had to go through the Morak Archipelago, whose pirate militia was half Quartians themselves, informed by their city friends, and half other rabble. Lucky I had wargs with me to warn me of ambushes, or my ships wouldn't have made it out of there.
«So it's true..." My father rubbed his beard thoughtfully, glancing unkindly toward the harbor to the west. I didn't doubt that he'd long ago found out - our family's network of informants and trading partners had long since spread throughout Essos and Westeros, no less than that of the Iron Bank and the Royal Spider. - So I'll have to make a personal trip to Qarth, then. The Purebloods seem to have forgotten our arrangement. I'll take Elaina with me. It's time she got some air from all the fighting.
«Oh, the little one's here? - I asked, surprised, knowing firsthand how hard it was to get that bully out of the ranks of her thugs.
«Don't change the subject. - My father looked at me with a frown, once again looking at the huge men walking and constantly looking back at the buildings they didn't understand. - Do you have any idea how much trouble you've caused me with your "gift"? As it is, I'm already struggling to hide the true power of our house and keep the other lords from discovering us. You and your sister are always giving me gifts, adding to my gray hairs.
At his rebuke, I only grinned, one smile showing where I had seen others' opinions of our family.
«Eh, what was I hoping for? - The head of the family asked sorrowfully, rubbing the bridge of his nose. - Sigrid, why didn't you stop him? Unlike that proud asshole, you've always had a head on your shoulders.
My shapeshifter only blushed a little and replied with an innocent wink of her eyes:
«He's very good at persuasion.
How beautiful she was now. Bright blue eyes, blond hair curling like sea lambs, alabaster white skin, tantalizing red lips, and a light Dornish garment of airy shawls and a long bodice that covered her perfect belly made her the most beautiful woman in the whole world. I still remembered how, three years ago, when I had first been entrusted to manage the merchant fleet and she had been transferred to me as a ship's navigator (though for the others she was my mistress, but every sorcerer had a legend like that - the secret of successful raids my father hid as well as his knowledge of porcelain or strong alcohol), I had been charmed by her at first sight. Intelligent and well-read, with a slight mystery in the depths of her azure eyes, she immediately took a place in my heart, and only a year later, after overcoming silly quibbles about age (eight years older) and position, I took a similar place for her.
«Realized how "persuasive" he was. - Father interrupted the idyll and, waving his hand, told me to follow him. - Come on, I'll show you your present, since your birthday you met in the Jade Sea. Again. Afterward, we have a family council to attend. It's too rare for us to get together in recent years.
At the last words, one of the most powerful men in Southern Westeros and Eastern Essos (though most would not admit that even under torture) seemed to shrink and age by five years.
"Father..." - Looking at this man holding a considerable weight on his back, my heart ached involuntarily.
I had always respected my father. As a ruler, a merchant, a traveler, a warrior, and a man of high moral standards. But first and foremost, I respected him as a parent. A kind and loving parent who set aside a little time each day for each of us, whether it was me, the first son and heir, or Fiora, the youngest daughter and legalized bastard. - "Though the last person who dared call her that, Alaric knocked out all his teeth. Well I added to that by breaking his arms and legs."
He always made time for each of us, helping, listening, and encouraging us in our time of need. And it was with his encouragement that I was able to travel to almost all the seas of the world, Elaina to discover her fighting talent, and Alaric to become the 'hand of justice', as the others called him in a piece, in our lands.
"Come to think of it, Fiora was the only one who never gave my father any trouble. On the contrary, she always helped him" - Looking at that broad back I remembered how a few years ago our little sister had only taken on a fraction of her father's duties, and had nearly bent over in the process. The head of the Temper family was dealing with too many problems, from accommodating the incoming farmers in the villages and valleys, to negotiating with the Iron Bank and the Pureblood Council. It was exhausting him a lot, giving him almost no time to rest. It got to the point where at one point Mother, Fiora and visiting Aunt Thea simply put him in front of a mirror and showed him an old portrait of him. Father was taken aback. Since then, he had taken more time for himself, handing over some of the responsibilities to the younger children and his trusted men. He even began sparring with the Guardsmen again, sometimes rolling them in the dusty sand of the training field.
"Though not for long. The wound inflicted by Tarly's pecking order still keeps him from firing off like he did when he was younger." - I thought, noticing as we gradually approached the closed and guarded area of the port - the dry dockyards. This was where all the ships of our family were built, from the simplest fishing schooners that plied the shores of the Dornian Sea to the ravenous hulks of the Ithians, the great ships of my father's design whose trading fleets scoured all the seas of Planethos. Even my squadron, considered the finest of the twelve currently established, is made up only of Ithians. - "And judging by these masts, one and a half times the length of our best ships, that's going to change today."
«Here's my gift to you, son. - Said father when we finally arrived. His hand was pointing towards the largest and most modern shipyards where fifteen incredible beauties stood ready to be launched. - The finest ships ever built on our slipways. They are twice as good as our Itians and can stay on the high seas for almost a year without resupply. With them, you can finally reach Ulthos, Mossovia and the fabled cities of the Bloodless Men. Take command.
I came to my senses only after an hour, when I had run around all fifteen ships, examined every rope, sail and tackle, learned the exact characteristics from the carpenters I knew, and admired the ship's artbalistas looking into the ports - a combat mechanism as big as an average ballista, capable of firing stone shells or special clay vessels filled with Dornish fire at almost 300 meters. And there were twenty of them looking out from one side alone. Scary ships my father gave me. Just as good, if not better, than the famous Volantian dromons, kings of sea battles.
«Time for the meeting, son. - My father called out to me as I looked at the texture of the mast, trying to understand whether my father was out of his mind or just imagining it. Because using a hundred-year-old ironclad as a mast... How much money did he pay Forrester for those trees?
«I'm coming. - I shouted, signaling Sigrid to go home and wait until I returned.
On the way to the castle I tried to find out about the material for the masts and was even more shocked. My father had decided not to skimp and the keel, ribs and spars were made of the second most expensive wood in Westeros. I was about to argue about such a wild waste, but I was silenced with a single phrase:
«Before you argue with me, remember who you are, remember what the White Wall was built from and where most of the Seven Kingdoms' taxes go.
"Eldest son and heir, marble and hardwoods, booze and whores" - I thought instantly, realizing the message - "you are my successor and I spent the money on your safety, not beautiful halls and endless drinking."
After that we walked in silence, in the company of the guards, to the castle and climbed up to the highest tower, where there was a meeting - a gathering of all the family members and the most important vassals of the family, held very rarely, due to the constant absence of either my father, myself or Elaina in our domain. This tradition was a recent one, and it had several purposes - to gather the most important people of our family, to let them know about each other's activities and to give out important instructions. At the same time, my father was gradually introducing me into the affairs of the family, and tying the younger ones to their already assigned roles. So that in the future, when he retired, there would not be the usual slaughter and intrigue between brothers and sisters.
In the hall beneath his father's solarium, there was only a large rectangular table with a detailed map of Westeros and Eastern Essos, with stone figures of castles, towns, crossings, and ancient ruins. At the head of the table was a heavy oak chair, with soft purple upholstery and lacquered armrests. It was the seat of the head of the family. My father's seat.
Next to him, on his right hand, sat the mistress and manager of this castle, Eilis Temper, my mother, dressed in a light, tight-fitting dress. Though she had recently passed the second half of her fourth decade, she was still one of the most beautiful women in Westeros, captivating with a single glance of her violet eyes.
Besides father and mother, there were seats for eight other people at the table. And while on the left sat the "common" vassals, such as the armor-clad Dontos Hollard, head of our guard and the only noble survivor of the Twilight Dome Rising, the red-haired and smiling Volkan Red, chief over all our werewolves and master of weapons, Uncle Joen, an old friend of my father's who ran Osgiliath and the entire bureaucracy, and Amira Sand, a middle-aged Dornish woman whose predatory beauty hid a skilled assassin and the head of our network of spies, cutthroats, and informants.
To the right sat we, our father's four heirs, who played no small part in the Temper family.
I was the closest to my father, the official heir, the head of the largest trade caravan and the one responsible for drawing up routes and sales plans for the other eleven. Lyon Temper.
Sitting next to me was my eternal little brat who loved to swing a sword.
"Though she's blossomed in the last two years. Not surprised she's got suitors lining up all over Dorne," I thought, a smile on my face as I looked at the fifteen-year-old, who was the beauty of her mother and hid her figure behind a thick steel breastplate. Elaina was in charge of a mercenary unit called the Ironclads, formed a few years ago to give our warriors experience in combat and make some profit from their upkeep, serving as the captain's second-in-command. The captain himself, Uncle Robin, now quartered a detachment of three thousand mouths near Quochor - a large horde of Dothraki was soon to pass through there and one of the Free Cities was paying generously for its defense.
Next to the brawler, who even at family gatherings polished her blade, sat my second sister, only a couple months younger than the eldest, according to my father. Fiora, though a legalized bastard, was valued by all as a full-fledged member of the family and tried to prove her usefulness by doing some of her father's work and looking more like a true lord than Elaina and I combined. Even now this yellow-eyed lizard, with her onyx hair and well-developed figure, causing men to squint no worse than her older sister, had her neat little nose in her papers, constantly scribbling something with her quill.
The last one at the table was my favorite little brother, known in the family as "Walking Justice". Alaric Temper, at fourteen, already stood out for his strength, skills, intelligence, and looks, which caused my father to be the butt of jokes about his wife's infidelity with Lannister. Usually such jokes ended in a duel with a broken skull, either on his father's side or his brother's. The blond hair and green eyes he'd inherited from our beloved grandmother, who'd often come from the West to see and play with us as a child and had been dead for two years due to frost fever, had always been his pride, and his constant defense of our house's honor had made him a true knight, one who honored oaths and justice. He was already a full-fledged knight, having defeated many opponents throughout the kingdom, and the head of the Citadel Guard, a force of three thousand men who keep the peace in our lands. Though it must be admitted that he has only recently been initiated, and most of the work is being done for him by his experienced deputies, so far only bringing him up to speed.
"I guess no one will soon hate my brother's sense of justice as much as the scum and shadow guilds," I thought, sitting down at the table and trying to remember how many convicts were already working in the depths of our mines and coastal quarries, extracting valuable ore and sea salt.
Meanwhile, the meeting had begun.
«Let's not make the meeting too long. - Father began, folding his hands in a lock. - I myself want to hug and kick the ears of one blond-haired brat... - he looked at me expressively. - ... and we don't have much time. Amira, what news should we all know?
Standing up and fixing the strand that had fallen out from behind her ear and smoothly shaking her shoulder (a habit from her old job, which the current head of the shadow guild is better not to remind), our ancestral master over the whisperers began her story:
«In short, your predictions are coming true, my lord. - A slight bow towards Fr. - The Sea Lord of Braavos, Ferrego Antarion, has become infected with the Blood Rash and hardly ever leaves his estate. Because of this, a fight has broken out in the city between the main families of the Keepers of the Keys, for the seat of the future Sea Lord.
«This is bad. - Father frowned, making a few notes on a small scroll. - The Iron Bank might raise duties again and bring back its old policies.
"Right..." - I thought, remembering that it wasn't until Antarion ascended to the throne that Braavos stopped its "beat everyone indiscriminately" policy, suppressing all merchants from other cities. It was during this period that Pentos was defeated and conquered, having lost much of its past greatness after the imposed retributions and bans. - "Even though it's not much of a threat to us."
Power in the Iron Bank has for centuries been distributed according to the amount of money invested in the general treasury. And our family had a lot of money in the bank. Enough to influence the board members to a certain extent.
«The Triarchy is once again in turmoil. Everyone is unhappy with the strengthening of the World. Lys and Tyrosh are already negotiating an alliance, and the Myrians have already made a treaty with the Golden Company. In Volantis, tensions have risen between the merchants and the fire worshippers of R'Glor. It hasn't gotten to a clash yet, but it's only getting worse by the day.
And this was something everyone present was more or less aware of. The squabble between the three daughters over the fertile Disputed Lands and the Steps had been going on for four hundred years, waxing and waning.
Nearly two hundred years ago, in the year 96 from the creation of the Seven Kingdoms, the three free cities united to wage war against Volantis, then attempting to recreate Valyria. After victory, they made an "eternal alliance" and formed the Triarchy. The next actions of the newly formed state was to announce the cleansing of the Steps from pirates. The neighbors of the Triarchy, including the Targaryens who ruled at the time, welcomed this decision, but merchants are merchants - they will make their own profit anywhere. Taking control of the islands and the straits between them, the three free cities began charging exorbitant tolls on ships passing through them.
For thirty years they ruled the Steps, growing richer by the day, but were eventually drawn into the Dance of the Dragons by the cunning Otto Hightower and defeated at the Battle of the Throat, losing their entire fleet and army. The following year, the Triarchy broke up and the era of the Three Warring Daughters began, which has lasted to this day.
So the new round of conflict had only advantages for Osgiliath - the weakening of the trade flow of three not the poorest cities and possible military supplies gave many opportunities to enrich themselves at the expense of the competitor. But the unrest in Volantis had both pluses and minuses. Plus - weakening of the competitor and non-interference in the division of the pie from the future conflict of the daughters. Minus - the concomitant weakening of the Belroy family, the mother's kin and a powerful ally within the city walls.
"But it's not terrible. They pretty much cut all ties with us after Grandfather died" - I made a few notes in my mind.
«I already knew that. What about the Steppes, the Bay of Slave Traders, and Qarth? - Father continued.
«Nothing, my lord. - The Dornish woman replied. - Aside from the eternal squabbling of the Khals, who have ruined Lhazar again, the minor conflict between the Great and Good Lords, and the aggravation between the Purebloods and the merchant guilds, all is quiet there. Except for the recent incident with the Spice Guild. My men are already finding out the names of the main instigators, but it will take time to investigate and pass on the letters.
«That's good. Keep up the good work. What about King's Landing? - Judging by the look on Amira's face, the news wasn't good.
«I only have a few informants in the Red Castle and a few dozen in the city itself - it's too hard to do business there because of the Spider and a few other unknowns who have taken over the shadow guilds and are constantly knocking out our people. - The woman said with a regretful tone. - But even so, I was able to learn a few interesting things. The Baratheons and Lannisters have begun an active power shift. The royal family, through Lord Renly, has begun to align itself with the Tyrells, and the Lions, in addition to appointing the King the children of Kivan Lannister as squires, have already loaned the crown some two and a half million gold dragons. But their factions are not monolithic - the stags have everything on the king, and the queen herself is trying to start her own game, creating her own network of spies and instilling in Prince Joffrey the habit of eating out of his hands.
«Interesting... - Volkan said as soon as the Dornish woman finished her story. - There's intrigue at court, the Triarchy is ready to start fighting again, Volantis is in a fever because of the fire worshippers, and Braavos wants to take over again. It's basically nothing new.
«I disagree. - Uncle Joen objected, taking a sip of the Arbor wine on the table. As hard as my father and our craftsmen have tried, they have not been able to surpass a dynasty of winemakers thousands of years old. - This time it's more serious. Lys and Tyrosh have weakened in recent years, and the new Masters of the World want money and conquest. This time the war will be much bloodier.
«It's been like this the last few times. - The werewolf argued, tapping his finger on the table. - They had fought more than seven times since the Triarchy was created and divided. What changed in this one?
«We showed up. - Fiora intervened, pulling away from the papers. - They don't call our lands the Tenth Free City for nothing-we drew some of the trade traffic from the Daughters with our mere existence. If Osgiliath were a true Free City it would have been destroyed long ago, but we're part of Dorne and the Seven Kingdoms, and after the Iron Islands and the Three Sisters, no one wants to provoke the Deer King.
"Yeah, Firi doesn't like our ruler," I thought, leaning back in my chair and not really listening to the heated discussion between Fiora, Joen, Volkan, and the occasional Amira. The others remained silent. Still, Ser Dontos, though a fine warrior, was not of great intelligence and had learned one simple truth from childhood, "It is better to appear an idiot than to open one's mouth and dispel all doubts." Alaric and Elaina weren't interested in this, either. They were both warriors, though they could sometimes show themselves as diplomats and managers, but they preferred to keep silent in such discussions, and my mother knew everyone here as well as anyone and was more of a hostess than a participant.
I realized a long time ago that no matter how much we argued at these meetings, the decision would always rest with one single person.
«Quiet.
One word from my father and all bickering ceased, leaving only absolute silence.
- I heard you all..." said the father, folding his hands in a lock, his old habit and a sign to listen carefully. - ... and as much as I don't want to, Fiora and Joan are right.
His voice was strong and commanding, making me listen and catch every word. I could do that, too, but I was as far away from my father as the Wall, a skill that any man who has ruled and led people for a long time has.
«Esoss was on the verge of a religious war due to the rise of Arglorianism - Volantis and Pentos were also affected by the unrest. Braavos has again begun to put pressure on Lorath, Saath and Ibben. In addition, the Khalasars have become more active in recent years, plundering Lhazar and the lands of the Free Cities too often. Beyond the Ridge of Bones the situation is no better - as I was told by my old acquaintances from I-Ti, the Jagos-Nhai are uniting under the leadership of a new Jat, and Pol-Ko is preparing to march on Azabad and Yin. I don't even want to talk about Westerosse - the Seven Kingdoms are torn between the Lannisters and the Baratheons, and soon they'll be joined by the Tyrells, whose intentions to make their daughter queen would be unheard of but for the deaf, and the Martells, because Doran hasn't given up hope of slaughtering the lion house and getting revenge. Not to forget the Iron Islands, the North and the Vale - they will not be left out in the event of war. The world right now is like a barrel of Wildfire under a bright sun - could explode at any moment. And we're sitting right on top of it, and we can't hope that the explosion won't hit us. - Dad sighed sadly as Mom discreetly placed her palm on his hand, eliciting a grateful smile in return. - Ehhh... When I created Osgiliath I was well aware of the Lords' passion for the Game of Thrones and their love of using others as pieces. I will never be a player - I lack the cunning and lust for power, unlike you Lyon..." he said, looking at me. There was complete silence in the hall, and all present listened to the unexpected monologue of the lord. - So I wanted to become a mountain. An immovable mountain that no one could move or touch. And those who could are long since extinct (p.a. GG is talking about the mountains in the kaiwassa game. These are special fields considered impassable and can only be bypassed. Only a dragon can fly over a mountain and not pay attention to it). It didn't. I only drew even more attention to us by making Tempers a figure. Yes, strong, yes difficult to control, but a figure. A figure that everyone will try to use in the future.
There was silence, where everyone looked at my father, waiting for his next words. Except for me - since childhood he had started teaching me the "doctrine of the soul" and oratory, preparing me as the future head of the house, and now he was using one of his simplest tricks - creating a pause, making me concentrate on him and listen to every next word.
«But that doesn't mean nothing can be done. - My father finally said, squaring his shoulders and getting a little bigger even to the eye. Also one of the tricks that help to give motivation and inner fervor. - Judging by the current events, we have three more years until the big Game. In that time we should increase our personal power as much as possible without looking back at anyone, not even the Martells - Doran is too busy doing his own thing with the Daines and Quargils right now to keep a close eye on us. Therefore, Fiora, what funds do we now possess?
«Six million gold dragons are now in circulation and cannot be withdrawn quickly. - Quickly oriented, said our personal 'Master Over Coin', who unlike the royal, at least cares about the future of his house. - One million one hundred thousand are lying in accounts in the Iron Bank and are our guarantor in the Council of the Bank. Another certain amount you father recently lent to the king at a small interest rate. So now we have only the contents of the treasury, two hundred thousand gold pieces.
«Add to that another two hundred thousand. - At Fiora's raised right eyebrow I only smirked and added. - There are almost a hundred and fifty tons of ivory in the holds of my ships. If our craftsmen can process it, we can make a good amount of money.
With a satisfied nod, the little sister turned to her father, waiting for more instructions.
«This is even better than I thought. - He said satisfactorily, stroking his thick beard. - Fiora, allocate an additional six thousand gold to Amira. You must increase your network, your assassin staff and find all the spies in our lands as soon as possible. - Said he to the grateful Dornish woman, whose funding was almost doubled. - Volkan, bring back the previous number of trainees in the war camp. We could really use the soldiers. - The head of the werewolves, as well as the official weapons master of our castle, who was in charge of all the forces based in the Valley, nodded happily, anticipating the increase in the number of subordinates. - Dontos, increase the guard to two hundred men and tighten the training. It is your men who are my family's main shield.
«I understand, my lord. - Whatever the others may say of Hollard's intelligence, what he had was loyalty to our family and to his father, who had saved him from the claws of the Mad King. He'd better not drink, but his wife was doing a fine job of keeping him from drinking anything stronger than twice-diluted wine.
«Alaric, tighten up customs at Minas Ithil and Minas Anor. Your guards have been finding too many convicts lately.
«It will be done, Father. - His chest thumped and his green eyes burning with enthusiasm, his brother replied. He is only too happy to do what he loves.
«Elaina. - Father called out to the next sister, who was still polishing her sword. I knew she hadn't missed a thing, though - she'd learned to listen and memorize important things very well after she'd almost lost part of her squad in an ambush early in her service. - I'm increasing the Ironclads to three and a half thousand. You'll take the missing men with you from the camp and the Huntsmen. I've already told them everything.
Judging by her happy smile, our silver-haired brawler is over the moon and will kiss her father after the meeting. All of the Ironclads, so named because of the universal use of the same shoes padded with iron that created a unique sound while marching, and her father's personal wish, were her brainchild (though the official captain of the squad was another man) and she was happy for any reinforcement of them.
"And how will her father find her a husband? She'll cut down someone weaker than herself in no time," A stray thought flashed through my mind, quickly tossed to the back of my mind. I'll ask sometime later.
«Fiora, Lyon. I'll give you assignments tomorrow. - He finally addressed us, rising from the table at the same time. - Now, friends, let's go to the dining hall. In honor of the arrival of my "busy" son and daughter... - Judgmentally, but with a merry chuckle in his eyes, the father said. - ...I've thrown quite a feast. Let's go quickly, or the cooks' labors will be wasted.
And so, with laughter, jokes and happy talk, the rest of the day was spent. That's why I loved my family and Osgiliath. I had seen too many people in my travels who treated their children as slaves or at best commodities, without giving them the slightest bit of warmth or care. And those paid them in the same coin - a throat slit in their sleep, poison, or a lonely fading in bed from old age or disease was a fitting response. Greed, lust, arrogance, deceit, hatred and more followed me on their heels outside the walls of my home castle.
So I greatly valued my home and family who gave me everything a man could want. So if my father's prediction comes true and this world sinks in the flames of war, I will make sure that not a single spark touches them.
***
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