~~~ 7 days latter, bay of crabs ~~~
Artys Arryn POV
I stood at the bow, salt wind whipping my face. Ser Jasper hovered a few paces behind, as if I might trip overboard and drown.
"How much longer to Gulltown?" I asked, already sick of the constant rocking. It's been seven fucking days. I am not Captain Jack Sparrow, who loves the sea more than land.
"By nightfall, young lord," Ser Jasper replied. "The Seven have been kind. Otherwise, in bad weather, it could even take ten days to reach Gulltown."
The Seven can go to hell.
I don't think they exist at all. Some angel, celestial, god, whatever he was—came, tore me out of my old life, and dropped me into this world, and the Seven did nothing. No signs. No miracles. Nothing.
Either they were never real to begin with, or the Andals once saw beings like him and mistook them for gods, then built an entire faith on fear, stories, and ignorance.
"The Seven are truly generous," I said aloud, practicing my pious voice. Gotta keep up appearances.
"Where is Ser Robar and those two boys?" I asked, realizing I hadn't seen them since the morning meal.
"I don't know, my lord. Shall I fetch them?" Ser Jasper asked.
"Nah, it's fine. Don't tell me you miss Ser Robar?" I smiled and glanced at Ser Jasper.
He returned a small, knowing smirk.
Man-to-man understanding: Ser Robar is fucking annoying. We never say it out loud, but we both know.
"Let's head back to the cabin," I said. Might as well. I don't have my Rose here to do the iconic scene.
Maybe someday I'll do the classic Titanic moment standing at the bow, arms wide, pretending the world belongs to me. The real question is who the lucky girl would be. Margaery, Sansa, Daenerys… or someone else entirely.
Whoever it is, she'd better be beautiful and more importantly, useful. Power comes first. Romance can follow, if it feels like it.
Besides, I wanted to hear the opinions of the two shipwrights we had onboard. I needed their thoughts on the ship designs I'd given them—ships of the Age of Sail, and a flagship modeled after HMS Endeavour. Pity I don't have gunpowder here. Otherwise, cannons would have already been part of the design. We'll have to figure out an alternative.
A few minutes later, the door to the cabin opened, and Ser Jasper and I stepped inside.
The giant table bearing a map of the known world was unchanged, but Soryn was there along with the two shipwrights. They were staring at the designs I'd given them like young teens discovering Playboy magazines.
"Is there any problem with that?" I asked, excitement clear in my voice. I would have my own ship soon.
"No, master. It's just that this ship is enormous, and very expensive to build. Are you certain you wish to spend one hundred thousand gold dragons?" Soryn asked, doubt clear on his face.
One hundred thousand gold dragons for one fucking ship.
Good gods. I need to make a lot of money. Not to mention the time it would take to build it.
"Can they build it or not?" I asked, ignoring the money entirely. If this ship could be made, I'd have an unfair advantage over every competitor on the sea.
The two shipwrights glanced at each other, clearly nervous.
"Yes or no," I pressed. Either they say yes, or I'll have them thrown into the sea.
"Yes," they said together.
"Good. When we reach Gulltown, you'll begin immediately. Lord Grafton will handle the contracts. The funds are coming. Soryn will manage the project." I looked around. No one moved. "Now get out. I need to speak with Soryn alone."
The shipwrights hurried out of the cabin, leaving only me, Soryn, and Ser Jasper behind.
Soryn remained, still holding the drawings like sacred texts. "My lord, these designs are marvels. Even with my limited knowledge of shipbuilding, I can tell they'll outclass anything on the Narrow Sea longer range, greater cargo capacity, faster speed. But the cost… our current funds won't be enough. We would need to withdraw from the vaults of the Bank of Volantis."
"The cost isn't an issue," I said. "With ships like these, we'll make a hell of a lot of money. Longer routes, heavier loads, faster travel—it all adds up."
Westeros is stuck in the Middle Ages. These ships come from the late seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.
"But one hundred thousand gold dragons is still a vast sum, my lord," Soryn said. "Your plans for the Vale would nearly empty our accounts in the Iron Bank. We may need to borrow from the Bank of Volantis as well."
"It doesn't matter," I replied. "We'll be making more than enough soon. These investments won't go to waste."
Still, I knew my actions wouldn't go unnoticed by the Free Cities. Keeping money in their vaults was never safe.
"Soryn, also make sure we sell all our assets in Tyrosh and Myr," I added.
"Yes, my lord."
POV ends.
~~~ Tywin Lannister's solar, Casterly Rock , Westerlands~~~
Tywin Lannister POV
The atmosphere of the room was dense. The news Tyrion had brought back was not good.
"This is not good news, brother. House Arryn now possesses two Valyrian steel swords at the same time, not to mention the merchant family inheritance," Kevan said, worried.
House Arryn possessing two Valyrian steel swords would only increase their fame. The wealth of Jon Arryn's late wife's merchant family was another issue entirely.
"Oh, come on, brother, it's not that serious. Our house is the richest in Westeros—we have gold mines. Besides, I think it's time we send an expedition to Old Valyria to find our own ancestral sword. I'll lead it myself. What do you say?" Gerion Lannister asked excitedly, already knowing the answer would be no.
"No need. You would waste a good amount of gold on a hopeless adventure. Kevan, sail for Bear Island tomorrow. Convince the Mormonts to sell Longclaw. I hear the new wife is expensive to keep," I said with a smirk, straightening my back.
Kevan inclined his head.
That would solve the Valyrian steel sword issue. I only hoped the Old Bear's son was smart enough to sell it. The sword was of no real use to them. Whether they spent the gold on their lands or on his wife didn't matter to me, as long as we acquired their heirloom.
I turned to the dwarf. "How rich is this inheritance exactly?"
I knew it wouldn't make House Arryn our equal, but a wealthy Vale was still a problem. They already had the Mountains of the Moon, the Knights of the Vale, and now wealth on top of it.
"It's a considerable amount. Two hundred trading vessels, several mansions in Volantis and other Free Cities, and accounts in the Iron Bank, the Bank of Volantis, and a few others. I don't know the exact figures," Tyrion said, reaching for the wine pitcher.
I took it away and placed it on the opposite side of the table.
All this little devil does is drink and visit whores. What crime did I commit to be punished with this creature as a son? He is of no use to our house, nothing but a stain on the Lannister name.
Gerion snorted. "How did Cersei let this happen? She's queen. That sword from the smugglers should be in the hands of the crown, not the Arryns."
"She claims she tried," Tyrion said. "According to her, the entire Small Council favored House Arryn, and somehow the boy even won the archery contest—and the bet. He secured a ten-year tax waiver for the entire Vale from the crown."
There was admiration in his voice. Truly pathetic. If it weren't for Joanna's sake, I would have had Ser Gregor deal with him long ago.
Cersei. Far too arrogant. Arrogance alone wouldn't be an issue if not for her incompetence and her refusal to acknowledge it.
"She is arrogant and incompetent. First Jaime, who joined the Kingsguard and abandoned Casterly Rock to become a glorified bodyguard. Then my daughter, whom I made queen of the Seven Kingdoms through endless effort, yet she can't even control the king. And as for you—you are of no use either. Meanwhile, Jon Arryn has a son who, at such a young age, has accomplished so much. The gods are truly cruel."
My voice rose with anger. If not for me, House Lannister would have become a joke long ago. I had cleaned my father's mess, and now I was forced to clean my children's as well. At least my grandson would one day be king.
"But—" Tyrion began.
"No buts. Kevan, prepare for your departure to Bear Island. I want our spies embedded in the Eyrie and the other keeps of the Vale. Watch the boy closely. I want every detail. Tyrion, prepare for my departure to King's Landing. I will take Prince Joffrey as my ward. If matters were left to you and your siblings, you would drag the Lannister name through the mud," I commanded.
Tyrion smirked, his eyes hard. "You're afraid the young falcon will do what Corlys Velaryon once did build a merchant empire that overshadows our gold mines."
There was anger behind his words, no doubt born from my earlier insults.
He is smarter than his siblings, I'll grant him that. But a dwarf will never rule Casterly Rock or the Westerlands. Jaime would have to be freed from the Kingsguard eventually.
I almost laughed. "Corlys was exceptional. This boy is a child playing at trade. I'd be shocked if he manages to keep what he inherited."
"Now go," I said. "We have much to do, and little time."
POV ends.