Chapter 39 - Trade
Illyrio Mopatis went still.
For a man who had been smiling and speaking so smoothly just moments ago, the change was sharp. His eyes narrowed, and for the first time since we had entered his manse, the warmth in his face disappeared. What remained was caution and killing intent filled the air.
He studied me for a long moment. His fingers tapped lightly against the arm of his chair, a habit of a man thinking very fast. In the books, Illyrio was always described as a man who hid his thoughts behind silk and honeyed words, but now, for a brief second, I could see the truth beneath it. He was weighing me. Measuring risk.
"You claim much," he said. "Too much, perhaps. A hidden child? A secret king? These are tales told by drunk sailors and foolish singers."
I leaned forward slightly. "Not tales. A boy raised across the Narrow Sea. Taught to rule. Protected carefully. Groomed for the throne. The one you and Lord Varys believe will be the perfect king."
His breath paused. Just for a second. But I saw it.
"And these two?" I continued, gesturing faintly toward the hall where Viserys and Daenerys waited. "They are useful pieces. Distractions. Tools to attract attention of the realm, to create chaos. So that your chosen king may rise later."
Illyrio's lips curved again, but this time the smile did not reach his eyes.
"You are either a very bold man," he said quietly, "or a very foolish one."
"Neither," I said. "Just informed."
Silence filled the room.
Then Illyrio shifted his weight and let out a slow breath, as if making a decision.
"Let us say," he began carefully, "that some of what you say has shadows of truth. Even then, why speak of it? Why come to me with such knowledge?"
"Because I am not here to ruin your plans," I said. "I am here to make a trade."
"A trade?" His interest returned, though guarded. "What do you propose to trade?"
I met his gaze steadily.
"The eggs you keep. The ones turned to stone."
His eyes flickered again, sharper this time.
"And in return?" he asked.
"In return," I said, "your secrets remain safe. Your plans remain untouched."
For a moment, silence filled the room.
Then Illyrio Mopatis smiled again, but this time it was cold.
"Do you think this is a fair trade?" he asked softly. "If I wish to have such supposedly secrets remain secret, I could simply ensure you never leave this manse alive. This is Pentos. My city. My home. You are far from any help."
I let out a small breath.
"I did not think you were such a fool, Lord Magister."
His eyes narrowed.
"Do you truly think," I continued, "that I would come here without preparation? That I would walk into your home, speak your secrets openly, and bring the Targaryen children with me if I feared for our security even a little?"
I leaned forward slightly.
"Or do you take me for a fool?"
Illyrio did not answer.
"And more than that," I went on, my voice steady, "do you think if something happens to me, do you believe nothing will follow? That your secrets will remain buried?"
That made him pause.
It was a small pause, but it was there.
For the first time since we began speaking, Illyrio did not have a ready answer. His mind was moving quickly now, weighing every word, every possibility.
He studied me carefully.
There was no fear in my voice. No hesitation. No sign of doubt.
That troubled him.
Because men who bluff often show cracks. A tremor, a glance, a shift in tone. But there was none of that here.
Illyrio thought 'Either he is bluffing very well or he truly has some backing and a way to get out of here unscathed if things turn dirty.'
He was leaning towards the latter option. And that thought made him cautious.
Illyrio folded his hands over his stomach and looked at me with new eyes.
"You speak with great confidence," he said slowly. "That is either bravery or madness."
"Or certainty," I replied.
Again, silence.
Illyrio's gaze drifted for a moment, as if looking beyond the walls, beyond the room. Thinking of Varys, perhaps. Thinking of the boy they had hidden. The plan they had built so carefully over the years.
Very few people knew of it.
Almost none.
Yet this person did.
That alone changed everything.
When his eyes returned to me, the merchant was gone. In his place sat a man who dealt in power, secrets, and long games.
"If I agree," he said quietly, "how do I know you will keep silent?"
"You don't," I said. "Not completely."
His lips tightened slightly.
"But you can be sure of one thing," I added. "I have no reason to ruin your plans."
"And your interest in the eggs?" he asked.
"They are useless to you," I said. "Dead stones. But to me, they have some use."
Illyrio sat in silence for a moment, then spoke slowly.
"Very well," Illyrio Mopatis said. "I can consider this trade. But I must first speak with my partner who is across the Narrow Sea."
"You do not have that much time," I replied calmly. "And neither do I, Lord Magister. There are many things to be done. Many places I must go."
He frowned slightly. "You put me in a difficult position. Without his agreement, I cannot decide such matters."
"I will deal with Lord Varys myself," I said. "When I go to King's Landing."
That surprised him.
"You will go there?" he asked.
"Yes," I said.
"With the Targaryen children?"
I raised my brow slightly as I thought, are you serious?
"No. Not with the children. They will be kept safe," I continued. "But I will go. There are matters in King's Landing that must be handled."
"And how," Illyrio asked carefully, "do you expect to convince my friend?"
I smiled slowly, with a cryptic look. "I have my ways. Just as I know this secret, I know some of his as well."
His eyes narrowed. "Which ones?"
"You may ask him yourself," I said. "After I meet him."
The smile did not comfort him. It made him uneasy, like a chill which shot up his spine.He looked away for a moment, thinking.
Silence filled the room again.
Then, slowly, he nodded.
"You will have the eggs," he said at last. "They are of little use to me. Only for gold, and I have no lack of it."
"I know," I said.
"But remember," he added, his voice firm now, "some secrets must remain buried. You speak of things that can shake kingdoms."
I nodded. "You have my word. Your secret will remain safe. No one will hear it."
He watched me for a moment, then gave a short nod.
"Very well."
We returned to the main chamber. The others were waiting. Illyrio asked us to sit, then called for a servant to look after us. He himself left for a short while.
After some time, he returned.
Two servants followed him, carrying a heavy trunk between them.
"This is what you seek, Lord Manny," he said.
The trunk was placed before me.
I opened it.
Inside were three dragon eggs.
They were large, each about the size of a man's head, shaped like smooth ovals. Their surfaces were hard like stone, yet patterned like scales. One was deep black with red streaks, like cooled fire. Another was pale cream, lined with gold. The third was green, with bronze shining faintly beneath its surface. They were the ones who would have been named Drogon, Viserion and Rhaegal.
They looked like stone. Cold.
I closed the trunk.
"Our trade is done," I said.
Illyrio nodded. "I trust you will keep your word."
"I do not have the habit of breaking it," I replied.
I signaled to my companions. The trunk was lifted and carried.
Without further delay, we left the manse.
The deal was complete. And with it my plans here were completed.
---
End of Chapter 39 - Trade