As for whether these men would verify the matter with Sarado, Ian was not worried. Setting aside whether low-ranking crewmen would go to a top leader over such a trivial matter, even if they wanted to, Salladhor Saan was not in King's Landing.
Different ships had their own trade routes. Though they were all ships under Sarado's command, if Sarado did not summon them—such as during the War of the Five Kings, when he gathered all his ships to form Stannis's "Royal Fleet"—they could go years without meeting one another.
As they drank, the tavern maid finally brought all the fine food and wine Ian had ordered: wine from the Arbor, plump roasted squabs, a whole roast lamb, a large bowl of beef soup, fresh white bread, butter, and a platter of vegetables. The mercenaries nearby drooled at the sight.
"Push the tables together and eat with us," Ian said with a smile. Then he waved the maid over. "Bring more dishes, and make sure our table never runs short of wine. Only Golden Wine from the Arbor."
"Yes, my lord." The maid nodded as she asked Ian whether he needed anything else.
"No." Ian rejected her outright and pushed away the woman whose breasts were nearly pressed against his face. "But after dinner, you may ask my brothers here. If any of them have needs, put all the charges on my tab."
"You truly are a generous lord!" Borris immediately praised. "Ser Lucian, more generous than any noble lord I have ever met."
"To Ser Lucian's health!" Borris raised his cup and drained it in one gulp.
"To Ser Lucian's health!" the sailors echoed.
After the sailors finished their toast, Ian tore off a piece of lamb leg and stuffed it into his mouth before casually asking, "By the