Chapter 15: Unworthy Heir (Part 3)
Chapter 15 - Unworthy Heir (Part 3)
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***
274 A.D.
Volantis
The next few days were spent in constant anxiety. It was necessary to make all possible preparations to make sure that the whole town knew about the merchant from the "closed and cold North". And all means were used.
I bribed street gangs, spreading rumors and attracting customers, drew and hung all over the city leaflets with the image of a giant bear and scary unshaven northerners. I even got to attend a few local social gatherings to which Alcaro invited me. All I can say is that they were nothing like the dignified and elegant balls of Earth. I'd never seen such a gathering of peacocks painted in all the colors of the rainbow and proud of it, and of high society, I'm not ashamed to use that word, whoremongers whose outfits could put any Dornish woman to shame.
It's probably one of the reasons I'll never settle in Essos - not only do I have to worry about Dothraki raids, but I have to deal with those assholes on a regular basis. Thank the gods that the farther north you go, the more peaceful the Free Cities are, but they have their own problems. The same bearded priests of Norvos and cultists of the Black Goat Kvochor, actually ruling their cities, I do not want to tolerate. The famous city of Braavos, which is rumored to be a training center for the Faceless (on its own citizens), need not be mentioned. That leaves Lorath, but it's too poor and has few prospects for trade. So at all the soirees I used the simplest and most effective tactic - smile and wave.
Oberyn was probably the most helpful. This Casanova, like a child who had had enough of sweets, began to party and walk all over Volantis, attracting so many people into his drinking that it almost turned into a natural disaster. For example, on the second day of the party, he and the backbone of his company, consisting mostly of sons of Volantis aristocracy and rich merchants, broke into the temple of R'glor, somehow avoiding the Order of the Flaming Hand, and found there a training center for temple prostitutes. What followed next need not be explained. The spectacle of those fools' fathers, led by Belichio, apologizing to the temple's chief priest the next day was still being discussed throughout the city.
Oberyn couldn't keep his mouth shut, so almost everyone in the city knew about my beautiful beast. By the time the election fair started, everything was ready.
***
P.O.V. Third person.
Volantis...
Heiress of Valyria...
How much meaning, how much pride, how much sweat and tears the people of this glorious city put into those words.
Originally built as a border outpost to guard the western borders of Valyria, Volantis was nothing special. In those days, the Valyrians were expanding westward from their ancestral lands and had reached the mother of waters, Roina. This full-flowing river, rich in its gifts, had been favored millennia ago, even before the Great Migration to the west, by a people later named after it - the Roinarians.
In the first century, it was an ordinary, unremarkable frontier fortress, with no permanent inhabitants other than the soldiers of the garrison and the occasional foragers, merchants, and whores who served them. Occasionally, dragonlords stopped there for rest on long flights or to meet with Rhoynarian ambassadors. Nevertheless, despite its proximity to the wealthy Rhoynaran city of Saroy, it was a good place to settle.
In time, taverns, pillow houses, craft shops, and docks for merchant ships grew up outside the Black Walls. And even later, an entire trading city grew on the eastern bank of the river, only slightly inferior in importance to its neighbor.
Naturally Saroj didn't like it. Wars began, where each of the four coastal cities - Valyrian Volantis and Valon Theris and Rhoynar Saroy and Sar Mel - fought for their survival. The deciding factor was the availability of help from the metropolis, and more specifically the dragonriders. Saroy was burned and Sar Mel was slaughtered.
But everything has its consequences. These events prompted the Roinarians, led by Prince Garin, to mobilize all their forces and ravage the Valyrian cities on the river. Volantis survived, but its inhabitants, barely holding out under siege, had no choice but to turn to their homeland, Valyria, for help. And their cry was answered. Three hundred dragons and their riders arrived to save the colony. In an epic battle, tens of thousands of Roinarian soldiers burned, drowned or were killed under the walls of the city. Later, other Rhoynaran cities were ravaged and their inhabitants taken as slaves to work in the mines of the Fourteen Fires for the rest of their lives. A beautiful six centuries of peace reigned.
Until the Doom came.
Valyria, home of the dragons, the greatest nation that ever existed, vanished. And in the place of its western holdings, the Free Cities emerged.
The Volantians knew and remembered who they were. Heirs to Valyria, the great empire that ruled the world. So they decided that they could unite the collapsed power under their own rule, and that it was their city that should become the capital of the new Republic and revive the greatest civilization on the planet. It was then that the "Tigers" and "Elephants" parties emerged, though the names were given to them later: the first group, the more militant, relying on the old nobles of pure Valyrian blood who called themselves descendants of the true dragons, believed they could conquer the continent by force of arms. The other, backed by the merchants and moneylenders who had risen from the lower ranks of the western city, saw a safer path in mutually beneficial trade rather than costly warfare.
Thus began the Blood Age - for a hundred years Volantis was ruled by a party of "tigers". They were indeed successful in their conquests, taking Lys with a fleet and Myr with a land army, and for sixty years these cities were ruled by Volantis. But their further campaigns proved a failure.
Having been defeated by Tyrosh, and after losing all their armies in battles against a coalition of Tyrosh, Pentos, Lys, Myr, Storm King Argilac Durrandon and Dragonlord Aegon I Targaryen, who were secretly supported by Braavos, Volantis ended his glorious history of conquest.
And now, on the day the "elephants" took over the city and signaled the end of the Blood Age, every free citizen of Volantis walked its beautiful streets, watching performances by local and visiting troupes. Acrobats flying on their bungees above the rooftops, stilt walkers looking down on everyone with their stilts, small dwarfs playing the roles of clowns and harlequins... There was no shortage of shows on the streets of this city.
But one of them attracted spectators much more than others.
At one of the many intersections of Volantis, where most of the performances took place, a giant tent was spread out. Covered with the skins of wild and terrifying beasts that no one in the city had ever seen before, trimmed with the tusks and bones of sea creatures, and surrounded by tripods of bright red fire, it created a terrifying yet mesmerizing spectacle for all present.
The performance began only at sunset, when the sky had turned blood red and the sun was ready to disappear beyond the horizon, plunging the world into darkness. The trumpets sounded, the horns blew, the drums beat.
The sounds were loud and wild in their nature, spreading through the streets of the southern city. They frightened and mesmerized all the spectators at the same time, forcing everyone present to start their inner struggle - to leave the incomprehensible and strange spectacle, and to stay and watch. Almost always the second one won.
«The world is infinite. - A velvety and powerful baritone began to sharply spread across the square, attracting the attention of everyone present. The speaker was a gigantic man, by the standards of the locals, with a long black beard, dressed only in rough canvas pants and a bear skin thrown over his shoulders. But what attracted the spectators most of all was his weapon, a giant battle axe, perpendicular to the ground and held by two hands. The mere sight of it made it clear that it was a battle weapon, covered with scratches and old blood that had not been washed away. The man's face could not be seen because of the play of light and shadows that followed the twilight, but it was not necessary. The audience's imagination was drawing the details they needed, creating a portrait of a great warrior telling his ancient story. - He was not limited to this city, this area, this continent.
His voice was mesmerizing, mesmerizing, making you listen, giving your full attention to the storyteller.
«In the far west, beyond that deceptive Narrow, yet hard to traverse sea, is Westeros. - The tonality of the music changed, slowly beginning to pick up. - Severe winter storms and frequent fall storms had for centuries buried the peace of sunny Dorne, the fertile Outlands, the gold-bearing West, and the rainy Stormlands and Riverlands. But once upon a time, when the world was more magical, the people more kind, and steel had not yet been subdued, Essos and Westeros were one. - The narrator's statement caused a storm of bewilderment and quiet whispers. Still, historical education was not honored in Volantis and most of its inhabitants knew only the history of the Blood Age. - Essos... The cradle of civilization. Back when the Fisher Queens ruled here, a legendary dynasty that ruled the lands around the dried-up Silver Sea from their floating palaces, whose wisdom, virtue, and love of the gods were said to be incomparable, people traveled west along the now-dry arm of Dorne.
Suddenly three shaggy-haired men appeared on the scene, dressed in nothing but loincloths and armed with crude swords, by the look of them made of the meanest copper.
«They had traveled through the deserts of Dorne, the cliffs and traps of the Red Mountains, the mud and slush of the Stormwoods, and the floods and spills of the Riverlands like a knife through butter. Nothing could stop them.
While the announcer was talking, the scenery was constantly changing - from painted sands and the sun hanging in the zenith, to steep mountainsides, from thunderclouds and lightning to rivers and endless thickets, forcing the audience to immerse themselves in the world that existed millennia ago. Even the "actors" were changing - imperceptibly for the spectator they were wearing more and more clothes, and the weapons as if by themselves were replaced by their best counterparts.
«Their journey ended in the North. - To the beat of the announcer, ice flakes began to fall from somewhere in the sky, very much like the snow described by the merchants of Braavos. Some of the audience could not believe their eyes, panicking and calming down only when they saw that the "snow" was only above the stage. - North...
The host's voice was filled with nostalgia and unbearable longing for his homeland, supported by the tact of the slowed down melody.
«There was the smell of wet earth and melted water flowing through streams and rivers. The forest, adorned with broad green leaves, did not grow there. Stubborn guard-trees in gray-green needle coats were replaced by mighty oaks and columns of ironwood, as old as the nature of the area. There thick black trunks crowded together, gnarled branches intertwined into a dense canopy overhead, and ugly roots crawled out of the ground. Deep silence reigned there, brooding shadows ruled, and the gods who dwelt in the forest land had no names (p.a took Katelyn's favorite description). It was an old and very ancient land, with its guardians and keepers.
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-Wa-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r!!! - As if in time with the presenter, a loud roar sounded from behind the stage, causing a reflexive shiver and making the heart go into the heels of fear. Many of the audience, especially the women and children present, shrieked fearfully, preparing to flee with all their might. Only two things prevented this - the crowd completely filled the streets and did not think to move from the place and calm "actors", who began to look around and look into the darkness of the night.
«These lands of eternal Winter were guarded by spirits. Spirits of leaves, animals, forests, mountains and flowers. - At the words of the host, new participants appeared on the stage. Dressed entirely in animal skins, with hoods over their heads in the shape of the heads of the strongest predators in Westeros and walking on four legs, they looked more like beasts than humans. Even the sounds coming out of their throats sounded more like the howling of beasts than humans. - And they were not happy about the presence of strangers.
The spectacle that followed the host's words frightened the spectators. Like hounds let off the leash, both groups of actors rushed at each other. The beasts howled, biting, tearing their enemies with their claws, while the people, not greatly inferior to their opponents, fought like berserkers, waving sharp, even in appearance, swords and huge battle axes. The most attentive spectators noticed how little by little all the actors began to be covered with a red liquid, very similar to blood....
It was blood!!!
When the beasts, completely covered with their ichor, fell to the ground and the smell of iron settled over the square, everyone realized what this red liquid was. Many young noblewomen, who had never seen so much blood in their lives, fainted at the hands of their partners, but most of the townspeople, most of whom had beaten their slaves to a pulp at least once, went wild with delight. On the crowd the sight of this maroon liquid, which gives life to all living things, had the effect of a red rag to a bull.
«The first men had not without loss defeated the spirits of nature. - Continued the presenter, whose voice, even without raising the volume, managed to reach every spectator in the crowd. - They continued through endless forests and mountains until they met him.
Suddenly, one of the sets depicting a forest hill stirred. Slowly sliding down, shedding leaves and branches, out from under it appeared... a bear. A huge, almost two meters in withers, bear, with its mere appearance made the hearts of many spectators go to the heels.
-Waa-a-a-a-a-a-a-r-r-r-r-r-r!!! - And the roar that sounded again, which was already clear to whom it belonged, made even the remaining minority feel better.
«The master of the forest had not forgotten or forgiven the deaths of his servants. - The storyteller's voice made the situation even hotter as the beast advanced on the frightened warriors. - He stepped forward, intent on punishing them with his own claws and fangs.
As if hearing the command, the bear rushed toward the actors, swinging his paw. The first warrior went flying, spewing streams of blood from his mouth, and forever closed his eyes and left this world. The other two still tried to resist the beast with swords and shields, but even the most distant spectators could see that the beast was just playing with them. Soon they too fell, struck down by the fury and strength of the king of the forest.
«He had won, remaining ruler of his land. - The announcer came on stage and began stroking the bear's scruff, and it did not resist, as if it had not recently torn up several people. - But the power of man is not in his gigantic strength, sharp claws and strong teeth. Humans are numerous and very intelligent. In the future, they will defeat the king of the Northern Forests, forcing him to flee further north, but that's another story.
Having said that, the host, along with the bear, disappeared behind a cloth hem that appeared abruptly.
...
Applause flooded the street. It was the first time the citizens of the Heir of Valyria had seen such a performance. An ancient legend from the far western Sunset Kingdoms, populated by barbarians and savages, filled with blood and horror, appealed to people who had long since grown tired of the usual comedies and stories.
That evening, many of the townspeople tried to approach the performers, talk to them, learn more about the foreign lands, invite them to the performance, and most importantly, buy a beast that had never been seen in Volantis before.
The storyteller (who turned out to be the head of the troupe) had only one condition: whoever could come up and pet the beast without being frightened could buy it.
Such a demand caused a lot of commotion in the night city. Soon, near the tent of the troupe lined up a whole queue of people who wanted to try themselves. The queue soon broke up when the first five people who entered almost (or not) lost their fingers.
Of course, there were attempts after that, but they were doomed to failure.
So the news of the triarch Alcaro Levaca walking in two days later and calmly stroking a dangerous and bloodthirsty beast caused quite a furor, causing many rumors throughout the city and contributing to a sharp rise in the triarch's popularity.
***
The performance was a tremendous success! Many rehearsals, threats of having some of the heads ripped off, and encouragement to the most distinguished were not in vain. The whole show was played right down to the notes.
And how I tortured the bear... it felt like I had a few gray strands in my hair. It was simply impossible to explain to a beast, even such a clever one, that you can't throw yourself at the audience and what you should do on stage, without long training. Volkan became my savior - it was because of his gift of communicating with the bear that the show was conceived. My original plan was to buy a gladiator from Meereen and use him against the beast in a makeshift arena. But it turned out even better - the bear had already seen Alcaro and it wasn't hard for her to explain what to do and how to do it.
Atrakes even joked to me, when he handed me the agreed part of the money for the bear, that I should have become an artist instead of a merchant. Success would have been guaranteed. I did not argue with him, for I realized that it was useless, and in my heart I even agreed with him a little - when all the money, thrown in ecstasy by the spectators, was counted, it turned out to be almost 3732 silver and 615 gold valars. Translated into Westeros money, that turned out to be 318 gold dragons. That's a pretty decent sum. Which was given as a reward to all the northerners involved in the performance. The smaller part, most of them married, put the money away, but the rest... they, led by Oberyn, immediately after the performance spent all the money on "exotic wine and blond beauties", again remaining penniless.
Still, the public in this world was not spoiled by movies and professional theaters, so the exotic plot, blood hidden in bull bladders taped to the body, artificial snow and a small play of light and shadow, made with candles, reacted very strongly.
As agreed, Atrakes, in addition to the sum of ten thousand gold Valar (5000 dragons) paid by the Triarch, handed me almost sixty thousand Volantian gold marks. When I asked him if he would buy the babies, which could only be torn away from their mother by putting them to sleep, the triarch's right hand only smiled and took out two more sacks with ten thousand coins.
To summarize, after selling all the bear skins, which became very popular with merchants and middle-class townspeople after the show, I had sixty thousand gold dragons worth of gold and gems in my chest. Even after paying the crew's stipends and paying all the trade duties at the city customs.
Honestly, I'm a*sed... I planned to earn half that, but that amount... If the pirate fraternity of Basilisk or Steps, or, Seven forbid, the Old Gods and the Drowned One, not to mention the Lords of the Iron Islands, finds out about it, I'll have no peace at sea. I've had to limit the number of people who can enter my cabin to a minimum to reduce the chances of thieves and spies even a little.
A week after the presentation, we were about to set sail when Oberyn burst into my quarters like lightning.
«Felix! - He rushed to me, grabbing me by the breast and shaking me like a straw puppet. - My friend, we have to leave! And as fast as we can! They're coming!
I managed to free myself from the panicked Dornian's surprisingly strong arms and calm him down by giving him a drink of mint brew and a few prophylactic slaps.
«All right, easy. - Sitting Oberyn, pale despite his olive skin, on my hammock, I stood across from him and began an impromptu interrogation. - What's all the panic about? Who's coming here?
«Belicio Taragos. That's the merchant my brother sent me to. - The Dornean said nervously, taking a few more sips from my waterpot.
«What does he want here? - I grew serious. And I really don't like the way that asshole looked away.
«What did you do?!
Oberyn told me a story that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
«Remember that time we visited his manor, there was this really sexy hottie there? I really liked her. That same night I snuck into the merchant's estate and gave her a good... Ahem, you know what I mean. - He said and looked away, seeing my hands start to shake as I realized who I'd stuck my dick in. - It had been like that for almost two weeks, but today we were caught together....
«And?
«Taragos had promised to rip off everything below my back and was about to do it, but I was faster. I slipped out of his house like a panther and got here in minutes. So we've got to get out of here soon. His men will be here soon. At best I'll be beaten, at worst I'll be forced to marry. And I'm too young for that! - By the end of the story, Oberyn had taken on his usual dorky, dumbfounded look and was reaching for the wine jug on the table, and I was realizing more and more how fucked up we were.
The idiot had slept with Tarogos' daughter, Reyala, the fiancée of one of the aristocratic families of the city inside the Black Walls. Doran will pay him off, of course, but that will come later. For now, an evil father whose daughter's life has been ruined by a prince-passer is on his way to my ships, probably with all his guards.
It's time to go.
«We're leaving! - Faster than the wind, I leaped to the top deck and shouted at the top of my lungs, giving commands to the crew. - Cast off the moorings! Quick, quick, quick! Hurry as if your lives depended on it! We're due to put to sea in fifteen minutes.
Lucky all the crew were on the ship at the time, so I didn't have to search all over town for them. We'd barely made it in time as it was. When the ships were in the middle of leaving the harbor, Belicio appeared on the dock, angry and furious. He couldn't do anything, but I hadn't heard such a torrent of scolding and threats against me in a long time. For a moment I was afraid that they would send ships after us. But they didn't.
So when we reached the open sea, I was able to give the last and most important order:
«Find this belch of the abyss and tie it to the mast. Let it breathe, let it think. No feeding for three days and no leaving the ship for three weeks.
***
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