Viserys had also exchanged the treasures brought from Dragonstone for gold dragons at the Iron Bank. Together with what he already had, he now held roughly six hundred thousand gold dragons.
Although that money meant he no longer needed to worry about living expenses, Viserys knew the value of preparing for a rainy day. He had already begun having Ser William approach trading merchants, intending to try selling the specialty goods they had brought and gradually learn the ropes.
Meanwhile, the soldiers who had accompanied them could not spend all their time outside training doing nothing. They needed to draw blood. Viserys instructed Ser Arthur to look for suitable mercenary work, such as escorting shipments and hunting pirates. It would give them some extra income while keeping the soldiers' blades sharp through actual combat.
Overall, the month passed fairly peacefully. The only minor incident occurred in the third week. A band of local thieves tried to sneak into the warehouse at night to steal their treasures, convinced that this group of exiles must have brought considerable wealth. In the end, however, the patrolling soldiers caught them.
Following the customs of Braavos, Ser William did not punish them himself. Instead, he had them bound and handed over to the City Watch the next day. After this incident, the Sealord also decided they seemed reasonably law-abiding and reduced the number of people watching them.
Just as they had begun to settle in and consider their next move, the Sealord's second invitation arrived.
This time, an official from the Sealord's Palace delivered the message with a rather respectful attitude. When Viserys returned with Ser Arthur and Ser William, the Sealord received them in the same hall, with Syrio Forel still guarding him at his side. The difference was that a simple tea set stood on the table this time, giving off a delicate fragrance.
"It seems you have settled in well." The Sealord gestured for them to sit and poured the tea himself. "Braavos sees a great deal of rain. I hope you are getting used to it."
After exchanging pleasantries, the Sealord set down his teacup, his expression becoming more formal.
"A month is enough time to accomplish many things, and for news to travel farther," he said slowly. "I have a friend who would like to meet you, Prince Viserys."
He paused. "He hopes this meeting can be kept discreet. That would be better for both sides."
The Sealord spoke tactfully, but his meaning was clear. This friend came from Westeros, but had no intention of stepping into the open yet.
Still, this could also be a trap. Braavos might claim neutrality, but such claims could hardly be taken at face value. Even if something happened, they could simply say they had been deceived. If Viserys could be killed, Robert would probably be more than willing to take responsibility.
"Risk and opportunity go hand in hand, Your Highness," the Sealord said at last. "Braavos offers no guarantees, only a venue and a certain amount of information. The choice is yours. You may consider it for a few days. There is no need to answer immediately."
Viserys lifted his lukewarm teacup and breathed in its delicate fragrance. In secret, he was already controlling small animals to search the Sealord's Palace for danger. Unfortunately, there was nothing suspicious. The other party was probably not in the palace yet.
Viserys did not let the silence linger. He set down his teacup. "Since Your Majesty is providing the venue, I am willing to meet this friend."
The Sealord did not seem surprised. In his view, Viserys surely wanted to win over as many people as possible. "Very well. Tomorrow evening, I will arrange for you to meet in a private chamber in the Sealord's Palace. I will ensure that no one disturbs you."
"Very well." Viserys rose. "I will arrive on time tomorrow."
Once they had left the Sealord's Palace, Ser Arthur finally spoke in a low voice. "Your Majesty, this is too risky."
"Waiting for someone to come to our door is just as dangerous. At least this time, we can prepare in advance. Ser Arthur, you and Ser Jon will accompany me to the private meeting tomorrow. Have Ser William take men to stand ready outside and watch everyone entering and leaving. Have Ser Alliser guard our base with his men and protect Daenerys and the others."
He paused, then added, "Also, send someone to investigate whether any ships of unknown origin have entered Braavos recently, especially from the direction of Dorne." If they were from Dorne, they should at least not be enemies.
The next day, the Sealord's Palace seemed even emptier than usual.
The same official from the previous day guided them, but they did not see the Sealord. The official led them through a concealed, iron-bound wooden door on the western side of the main hall, then left.
Beyond the door, the room contained only a long table and a few chairs. Brass lamps on the walls cast a steady glow. The air smelled of dust and old parchment, along with an exceedingly faint, warm scent of exotic spices.
Arthur Dayne kept his hand poised over Dawn's hilt, while Ser Jon Darry surveyed their surroundings.
Two people were already seated at the table. The man at their head lounged in his chair, his languid posture carrying a predator's alertness. He had dark skin, slightly curly black hair, a lean face with a faintly mocking cast, and deep olive eyes.
He wore a dark green outer garment with an open neckline, and an antique gold sun pendant hung around his neck.
At that moment, one of his hands rested casually behind his female companion's waist, his fingertips disappearing among the folds of her sheer gown. The woman, Ellaria Sand, leaned against his side, her long copper-red hair loose, her alluring face possessing the wild beauty peculiar to Dorne.
She seemed accustomed to the movements of his hand and even turned slightly to make his touch more comfortable, yet her deep violet eyes sharply appraised Viserys as he entered.
"Viserys Targaryen," the man began. "I am Oberyn Martell. I imagine you still remember me. We met at the tourney at Harrenhal. This is Ellaria Sand, my lover." He did not rise, merely making a casual inviting gesture with his free left hand.
"Prince Oberyn, is Dorne still loyal to House Targaryen?" Viserys sat opposite him, ignoring the hand that was still making subtle movements. "The Sealord told me you wished to keep this meeting discreet."
"Discreet, because King's Landing has far-reaching ears, and Dorne's wounds are still fresh." Oberyn withdrew his hand and sat upright, his gaze sharpening. "My sister Elia, my nephew Aegon-their blood has yet to be washed clean from the stone steps of the Red Keep. Robert Baratheon and the Lannisters around him must pay for that."
He stared at Viserys as though weighing an uncut piece of jade. "I can see that the two knights you brought, especially this Sword of the Morning, look at you as though they are looking at a true king. That is interesting. Perhaps you hold more promise than your appearance suggests. And Dorne will kneel to no one, now or in the future."
"Since Dorne will not pledge its allegiance," Viserys said evenly, "what did you come here to discuss?"
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