"Your business here in King's Landing has probably reached its ceiling. It will be hard to break new ground, and you can see exactly what the future holds."
After waiting for Tobho to finish boasting, Titus changed tack and brought up his earlier investment proposal again.
"You spent your youth studying abroad, working so hard to learn your craft, but so what if you came back to Westeros and opened this shop?
"Your background leaves you nothing more than a shopkeeper stuck in one place.
"No matter how big your business grows, won't you still face harassment from the City Watch and exploitation by tax farmers?"
Tobho Mott's eyes darted about. Clearly, the words had not sunk in.
Before he could find a reason to politely decline, Titus continued:
"Think it over. What a rare opportunity this is! A local lord would promise you protection, and you would gain an earl's personal friendship..."
The proprietor's eyes lit up. This time, Tobho was listening.
Seeing his stance soften, Titus unhesitatingly played his trump card:
"Didn't you say you learned how to reforge Valyrian steel in Qohor? I can supply you with Valyrian steel..."
This was plainly an offer Tobho Mott could not refuse.
Nor could any smith. Even Old Rolly, standing nearby, stared wide-eyed when he heard it.
Perhaps no smith in the world would dare turn down a true Valyrian steel sword. It was a treasure every craftsman dreamed of.
"My lord! Is-is that true?"
Patting his beloved silver-plated scabbard at his waist, Titus knew the moment was ripe. It was time for Little Orphan to perform.
The Earl of Starpike looked up and gave the visibly nervous Bowen a meaningful glance.
The deputy captain, whom Titus had briefed before they left that morning, approached with a bitter expression. He drew the Valyrian steel sword the earl handed him, without the slightest trace of delight on his face.
As Tobho and Old Rolly obligingly sucked in lungfuls of King's Landing smog, he began his part.
Deputy Captain Bowen rolled up his sleeve and, holding the black sword, deftly twirled it before drawing its edge flat across his left arm. Then he held the blade horizontally before Tobho for inspection.
On the ink-black blade, a scarlet bead of blood slid down its smooth surface under the pull of gravity. Even after the droplet left the tip and fell to the ground, Orphan-Maker's surface remained as black as midnight.
This was called: Blood does not cling to the blade.
Without pausing, Bowen plucked a hair from his head and gently blew it into the air. Under Tobho's entranced gaze, he raised the sword's edge beneath the drifting strand.
Hair met blade.
The former parted lightly in two, falling soundlessly down either side of the black blade.
This was called: Hair-splitting blade.
Testing the sword on his own body, Bowen truly made an excellent prop for the seller's demonstration...
Evening.
Tobho Mott, who had been so proud all along, nodded and bowed as he courteously escorted Earl Titus all the way out of the shop.
Only when Titus, his companions, and their carriage had receded into the distance did he straighten up and return inside.
The earl... no, his new partner had just shown him a glimpse of his considerable resources, successfully persuading and winning him over with a genuine Valyrian steel sword.
After lunch and an afternoon of conversation and negotiations, they had finally settled on a partnership model encompassing both the King's Landing "flagship store" and a "specialty store" in the Reach.
The Earl of Starpike would provide money, land, and resources in exchange for a forty-percent share of the existing King's Landing shop and seventy percent of the new shop to be established in the Reach.
The remainder would belong to Tobho Mott, who possessed the core technical expertise.
Truthfully, this was better than he had originally imagined.
Working with nobles was troublesome. Finding one willing to listen to reason was rare enough, and Tobho was quite satisfied...
After leaving the smithy, Titus was equally satisfied as he retraced his steps along the Street of Steel.
The weapons business and such were secondary. He needed a base in King's Landing.
Tobho Mott's smithy was one of the most renowned established businesses on the Street of Steel. It suited him perfectly as a base.
As a prospective manager for the future Reach branch, Old Rolly would first be stationed at Tobho's shop to coordinate technical matters before the Starpike shop was built. Titus would also send someone else to handle the finances... he already had a candidate in mind.
As they neared the junction with the Street of the Silent Sisters, Wenda suddenly leaned toward the pensive earl's ear and whispered:
"My lord, someone is following us."
Tickled by a few stray strands of her hair, Titus turned his head and glanced at Captain Wenda's perfectly normal blue right eye, asking without betraying anything:
"Who? People from the Reach?"
"No. They're spread out in several places, probably a squad in all. Every one of them is wearing a woolen cloak dyed gold. They don't look like impostors."
Oh? Gold Cloaks. If they don't look like impostors, they must be actual members of the City Watch.
I've only been in King's Landing for a day. I haven't even had time to offend anyone. Titus considered briefly, then called Bowen over and gave him a couple of instructions.
Bowen immediately ran back and told the carriage following them to continue on. He himself accompanied Earl Titus and Deputy Captain Wenda on a detour in another direction.
Having deliberately reduced the size of his party, Titus took Wenda and Bowen around a corner, heading specifically into the narrow alleys.
In a deserted, dark alley.
Titus and his two companions stopped and did not have to wait long.
Ten members of the King's Landing City Watch entered the alley one after another, blocking its narrow entrance completely.
They seemed somewhat surprised to find the three waiting expressly for them here, particularly the youth in the middle, who was actually smiling quite cheerfully.
Beneath his short black hair, the youth's features were finely sculpted, his indigo eyes bright and alert. He wore a full set of equipment.
On his upper body was a half suit of armor covered in black leather, with an orange-gold shield emblem embroidered over the breastplate.
Bright, silvery metal armor pieces protected his shoulders, elbows, and arms, with a sturdy, tightly woven mail lining underneath. He wore leather gloves and a brown leather belt, with a black sword in a silver-plated scabbard hanging at his left hip.
On his lower body he wore leather hunting trousers with tall black military boots, iron guards protecting his knees. A blue-gray cloak hung over his outfit.
Titus disliked wearing helmets, believing they interfered with his field of vision.
He had hated wearing a helmet back when he rode motorcycles, too. Westeros had no traffic laws, and this was no complicated battlefield where safety was an issue. That, too, became his reason for neglecting a helmet.
The watchmen were still staring blankly when the black-haired youth among the three asked:
"Are you really with the City Watch?"
He noticed that none of them carried the iron-bound wooden clubs, hammers, or iron-tipped spears customary for the City Watch. Every one carried a sword instead.
Then again, anyone could bribe their way into the King's Landing City Watch. Perhaps these Gold Cloaks had once been sellswords.
It did not matter.
There were only ten of them, after all...
Tobho Mott's smithy:
Before you continue