chapter 108 part 2
Most cities in Westeros were filthy and chaotic, but Pentos was clean and tidy.
It wasn't just the city; the residents were the same.
This was Glyn's first impression of Pentos.
Seeing Glyn's figure appear on the pier, Steward Rosser, who had been waiting since early morning, immediately rushed forward.
"Good day, my lord. Rosser greets you."
Under Glyn's arrangement, Steward Rosser had departed for Pentos ahead of time, carrying a personal letter from Varys to Illyrio.
Glyn, naturally, wouldn't use Varys's letter of introduction merely to connect with Illyrio.
Now that he had capital and ships, he began to establish a trade route from Mermaid Port to Pentos.
Varys had been so amiable to Glyn that Glyn couldn't be too cold in return.
Others might not be clear about the relationship between Varys and Illyrio, but Glyn was.
Glyn was just borrowing Varys's facade and using Magister Illyrio's authority to establish the Crabbe Pentos Trading Company, killing two birds with one stone by setting up a foothold and a trade business.
...
Glyn gave a slight smile. "Rosser, you've worked hard."
At that moment, Reik Snow walked over. "Lord Glyn, all our ships need repairs."
When they departed, Glyn had two warships. With the three captured from pirates, he now had a total of five.
What about the captured pirates?
Lord Glyn had always judged by deeds, not intentions. He would not allow wicked men to join his Crabbe's Legion.
"Reik, inspect them thoroughly before the repairs. Leave no hidden dangers. Afterward, get the money from Rosser."
Glyn, now a man of means, finished speaking. His eyes moved, landing on Monton Waters not far away.
Monton noticed Glyn's gaze and immediately broke into a sincere smile.
Glyn nodded slightly, then looked away and said to Rosser, "Lead the way, and tell me what's been happening here."
Rosser, walking beside Glyn, deliberated for a moment before speaking. "My lord, because of the letter you had me bring, I was honored to be personally received by His Excellency the Magister. Magister Illyrio expressed his anticipation and welcome for your visit."
After a pause, Rosser lowered his voice. "When I first began inquiring about the price of a manse, the Magister's steward found me and recommended a luxurious residence at a very fair price."
Glyn's eyebrows twitched. "I understand. you've done very well. Put more thought into choosing the gifts for the queen."
The pier was bustling with people. With too many hidden eyes and ears, a brief conversation was all that was prudent.
*Your every move is being watched...* Illyrio's actions seemed enthusiastic, yet they were also a quiet flexing of his muscles.
With his memories from before transmigration, supplemented by the details he had learned since arriving in Westeros, Glyn had already guessed most of Varys's and his allies' plans.
Glyn chuckled softly. He was hesitating between Varys and Illyrio... which of the two to eliminate first.
Around the Iron Throne of Westeros, Glyn would not permit any mastermind greater than himself to exist. He would eliminate one when a suitable opportunity arose. Glyn had no interest in playing friendly games on the board Varys and his allies had spent so long preparing.
Lord Glyn would set the new game himself, and everyone would have to play by his rules.
...
...
Pentos was not very friendly to horseback riding. Following local custom, Glyn rode in a sedan chair.
Glyn frowned slightly. Pentos was indeed cleaner and tidier than most cities in Westeros, but a strange smell wafted through the air here.
After leaving the pier, Glyn's ears were filled with unfamiliar chants, prayers, and the boisterous laughter and chatter of people at play.
Glyn suddenly sensed something and looked in a certain direction, but he found nothing unusual.
He retracted his gaze thoughtfully.
At this moment, only Petyr was in the Throne Room.
Petyr looked at Pycelle's seat and curled his lips. Although there was no direct evidence yet, he had more or less deduced Grand Maester Pycelle's hidden allegiance. He had likely thrown in his lot with the Lannisters long ago.
As for Varys... he needed to be watched closely. Petyr trusted his intuition that the man was plotting something in the dark.
The Small Council was the highest stage for the players of the game of thrones. All its members, including himself, hid unspeakable ambitions.
Petyr's grey-green eyes were fixed on the Iron Throne on the high dais.
The time was ripe... Petyr Baelish's eyes glinted.
It seemed the gods were on his side. With Lysa Tully's help, Petyr had already learned what Hand Jon was secretly investigating.
*Those so-called noble bloodlines really know how to play...* A sneer touched Petyr's lips.
It was time for Hand Jon to permanently exit the stage. This was his last remaining value.
Petyr could almost see the chaos he would personally create. And in that chaos, there was a ladder for him to climb.
The smile on Petyr's face deepened.
*Tap, tap...* The sound of light, soft footsteps interrupted Petyr's thoughts.
Petyr simply let the expression on his face go blank, pretending not to have heard the sound behind him.
He didn't need to turn around to know who could produce such a peculiar footfall. It could only be that eunuch, the Spider.
Varys stood beside Petyr, also looking up at the Iron Throne. "Lord Petyr, sometimes I am curious. What do you think about when you look at it?"
Petyr glanced at Varys, his voice hoarse. "Perhaps we are thinking the same thing, Lord Varys."
Petyr's reply was a subtle probe.
"Oh?"
Varys said with interest, "How delightful! Are you also reminiscing about King Robert's heroic posture when he sits upon it?"
The corner of Petyr's eye twitched. His tone was cold as he said, "Lord Varys, are you perhaps alluding to something?"
Varys clasped his hands together and smiled. "Lord Petyr, I am a rather timid man, but King Robert bestows incomparable courage. When the situation grows sensitive, I always hope to see the king's figure. Are you not the same?"
Petyr curled his lips, his tone laced with mockery. "Lord Varys, His Grace is not here today. It is a great pity that he cannot personally hear your sweet words."
Varys nodded slightly and said humbly, "These are merely my heartfelt words. The Red Keep has unseen ears everywhere, but I will always trust in His Grace's wisdom."
Varys's words made Petyr's eyes tremble imperceptibly.
Petyr's smile was elegant. "Lord Varys, your tongue is the sweetest of all."
(end of chapter)