Chapter 145: Prince Hazan
Passing through the bustling Upper City, Ian arrived at Freedom Street in the Lower City in Illyrio's carriage.
This area was originally called Blood Street, the most concentrated area of slave pits in Pentos, but after Pentos's defeat to Braavos ninety-one years ago, all the fighting pits on this street were closed, and the street was renamed Freedom Street to commemorate Braavos's great victory.
Like Suthra Tetrus, Hazan's fighting pit was also on this street.
Now, Ian and Daeren were heading toward Hazan's 'White Blade Pit'.
Sixteen Unsullied soldiers surrounded the carriage, driving away the smallfolk on the roadside to clear a path for Ian.
These were troops Ian had borrowed from Illyrio's manse. After yesterday's frank conversation, Ian had completely gained Illyrio's trust and also obtained the authority to use many of Illyrio's forces.
This harpy 'whip', capable of commanding fifty Unsullied, was a gift from Illyrio to Ian.
Coupled with Illyrio's own admission that he wasn't worried about offending the Volantis faction, Ian now effectively possessed the leverage to use Illyrio's power against player Ander Poole.
However, after some hesitation, Ian abandoned this plan and decided to proceed with his original strategy of delivering a decisive blow to Ander in the tournament.
After all, if he were to immediately confront a champion of Suthra Tetrus after just gaining higher authority, it would be tantamount to admitting his motive of helping Hazan win the tournament.
This would inevitably arouse Illyrio's suspicion that he and Daeren Grafton had been working together from the start.
Since the outcome would be the same anyway, there was no need for him to choose a method that might arouse Illyrio's suspicion.
"Ian is coming," Hazan said to Delilah beside him after waving away the servant who came to report that Ian's carriage had entered Freedom Street. "I've been looking forward to dealing with him for a long time."
"Is it because of Tarobyne's assessment of him?" Delilah frowned slightly. "I investigated for you last time. Ian Darryl is nothing special. I even suspect that he's just a figurehead pushed forward by Daeren Grafton.
All the intelligence indicates that Daeren is Ian's subordinate, but you saw it yourself. At the banquet at Khal Drogo's palace, Daeren showed no deference to Ian. And I also checked—the knights they brought from Westeros this time are all Daeren's men.
So I suspect that Daeren Grafton is worried about being targeted by assassins sent by the King of Westeros, so he pushed his companion into such a seemingly high position."
"That sounds reasonable, but," Hazan paused, thinking for a while, "I don't know how to say it. It's actually quite strange."
"Oh?"
"Didn't you ask me before how I was able to grasp Viserys's personality even though I'd never actually met him?" Hazan thought for a moment and said.
"Your answer was, 'A king who has long been dependent on others, suddenly having real supporters and the power to be petitioned, his most urgent task would be to prove he's not Illyrio's puppet.' What? Isn't that the correct answer?" Delilah blinked.
"It is, but what made me think of that was something Ian said. He said that Magister Illyrio is Viserys's most important ally, and he believes His Grace won't ignore the Magister's wishes."
"What does that mean?"
"The information revealed in that statement is that Viserys has never had the power to make independent decisions on major issues. So when he suddenly has that power, his rebellious mentality toward Illyrio is particularly strong."
"You mean?" Delilah had somewhat guessed Hazan's thoughts.
"I suspect Ian said that to hint at something."
"But that statement didn't seem out of place in the context—it didn't seem like it was said intentionally. And if Daeren Grafton hadn't suddenly confronted him, then that whole conversation wouldn't have happened at all. You can't say that he orchestrated the whole scene, can you?" At this point, Delilah suddenly paused, then said uncertainly, "Is that possible?"
"It's hard to say. He doesn't seem to be acting. And if he is, what's his purpose? What benefit would helping me bring him?"
Maybe he's after your ass? Delilah wanted to make a joke, but she knew she couldn't provoke Hazan while he was thinking seriously.
"Perhaps the Iron Bank spoke to him? After all, your mother..." Delilah offered a more plausible guess.
Her suspicion wasn't unfounded, because countless past experiences had proven that Hazan's success was always paved with his mother's gold.
"If that's the case, he should have let me know he was helping me!" Hazan shook his head.
"Perhaps you'll know the answer soon enough. Daeren said he has something very important to tell us."
"That's precisely why I'm looking forward to meeting him. And if Daeren is truly just his puppet, then having such a person as our ally will be very beneficial to our plans." Hazan said, seemingly remembering something.
"By the way, did you ask Celia what she said to Ian at Drogo's banquet that day?"
"She, like you, is also very interested in that Andal knight. She originally wanted to invite Ian to the Red Temple atop the hill and then bring him into our camp, but now it seems unnecessary. According to you, Ser Ian originally wanted to help you."
Just then, the servant from before came to the door of Hazan's chamber again. "They've arrived."
"We've arrived." Rol pulled back the carriage curtain from the outside.
After letting Daeren exit the carriage, Ian followed him out.
'White Blade Pit' was an unremarkable-looking building, and the wooden door seemed a bit weathered.
Rol stepped forward and knocked on the door.
A eunuch opened the door, a fact Ian recognized from his high-pitched voice and rounded physique.
Ian was wearing Jonos Darryl's white Kingsguard plate armor, its craftsmanship truly exceptional. Though slightly dented from the spear and mace attacks, Ian couldn't find a better replacement in Pentos.
The Unsullied stood guard outside, while Ian and his companions followed the portly eunuch into the pit.
They passed through a deserted corridor and descended a spiral staircase underground.
The flickering light of tallow candles on the stairwell walls cast their long, elongated shadows that stretched into the unlit darkness.
The echoes of their footsteps reverberated in the narrow space.
For a fleeting moment, Ian seemed to see a net fly at him again, followed by a menacing figure in a golden robe hurling a spear and mace at him.
He was momentarily dazed, then shook his head sharply to dispel the images, only to realize that what he had just seen was his own shadow cast on the wall by the candlelight.
Because of the draft, the flame on the candle flickered, and the shadow on the wall swayed accordingly.
(End of Chapter)
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