After the lockdown on Meereen was temporarily lifted, merchants and travelers from all over could enter the city again, and the spice market regained its former prosperity. Outside a lower-class tavern in the marketplace, a few burly men, who clearly weren't to be trifled with, stood guard at the entrance, their hands resting on their sword hilts as they patrolled back and forth.
"Lord Wright!" A scar-faced giant saluted Wright.
His curved blade rested in its scabbard at his waist, but Wright could still sense the magical fluctuations emanating from it. "You're Caggo Corpsekiller?"
"I didn't expect you to still remember me, my lord. It's truly an honor! The Tattered Prince has already arrived—Lord Wright, please come inside." Caggo beckoned to his companions at the door, and together they escorted Wright into the tavern.
The sign above the entrance bore three words: "Purple Lotus." From the outside, it appeared to be a cluster of a dozen small rooms, but inside, the owner had knocked down the walls, merging them into one large hall. The place was bustling with noise and excitement. In the center, two half-naked men were engaged in a bloody fight, and every time a fresh wound opened, the audience erupted in cheers. Wright had fought here several times before.
At the bar, the Tattered Prince, clad in armor with long white hair cascading over his shoulders, sat drinking with a few of his subordinates. They paid no attention to the spectacle in the pit.
An empty seat was left beside him, and Wright sat down without hesitation. "Zahana, a pear wine!"
"Well, well, if it isn't the great Wright! Ever since people found out you fought here, my business has been booming. This one's on me!" Zahana, the tavern's sharp-witted owner, was an old woman who ran the place while making extra coin on the side through smuggling.
"Haha, may your business continue to prosper!" Wright accepted the drink without hesitation.
"It's been over a year since we last met, and I can tell you've grown even stronger," the Tattered Prince said in fluent High Valyrian.
Wright took a sip of wine. "And you're as vigorous as ever. The Windblown's commander personally coming to Meereen for work—now that's a rare sight."
The Windblown had been one of the few mercenary companies that did not flee when dragons appeared during the Tyrosh Siege, even organizing resistance and inflicting losses on the coalition forces. Their loyalty to contracts and fearless combat had earned them the respect of King Robert and other nobles. After the war, they weren't punished but were instead released after paying the customary ransom. During his captivity, Robert had often shared drinks with the Tattered Prince, and Wright had visited them a few times.
"Gerris Drinkwater, Quentyn Martell." The Tattered Prince spoke two names.
Wright smirked. "Oh? I've already killed them."
"They used fake names to join the Windblown, traveled with us all the way to Meereen, and then left. I came here to inform you of the situation. Mercenary companies in Essos don't keep track of Westerosi fugitives—they signed up under false identities," the Tattered Prince explained, his voice steady and firm.
"I know. That's why I only issued bounties for the Golden Company and not the Windblown."
Whenever a notable mercenary died, the news would spread quickly through taverns across the land—death itself became a tool to elevate a company's reputation. Quentyn and his men had made quite the stir, and intelligence officers in Volantis had analyzed their identities before sending a report to Wright.
The Tattered Prince raised his cup. "Lord Wright, you're as fair as ever. You Baratheons are a fine lot!"
Clink! Wright raised his iron cup and toasted him with a grin. "It's rare to hear good things about my family in this land. I'm almost not used to it."
The Tattered Prince chuckled. "By exposing the Golden Company's crimes, you've made their atrocities known. I believe your reputation will soon be restored."
"There are some things I truly haven't done, yet they insist on pinning the blame on me. These accusations don't hold up under scrutiny—history will clear my name! That said, you didn't have to come all this way just to clear up a misunderstanding, did you? Are you looking to take on the contract for Meereen's city defense? I could subcontract it to you; we can discuss the price."
Wright had experienced the Windblown's strength firsthand. Their combat prowess and experience were impressive. They had suffered heavy losses in the Tyroshi campaign, but by now, they should have replenished their ranks. Each time Wright defended the city, he earned a hundred thousand gold pieces. If he subcontracted the job to the Windblown for fifty thousand per defense, he would pocket fifty thousand without lifting a finger.
"The city's defense is under your control, Lord Wright. We won't interfere."
The Tattered Prince turned slightly and looked at Wright with a serious expression.
"This time, I've come to discuss a different deal. The Windblown will help you contain the Golden Company. If necessary, we will even take the initiative to attack them."
Wright met his gaze. "Are you sure about this? The Golden Company has over ten thousand men, including several thousand cavalry. Your Windblown, at most, numbers two thousand. Once you take on this task, aren't you afraid they'll move first and wipe you out?"
The Tattered Prince replied, "Lord Wright, you have linked Lys, Volantis, and Myr, with the three cities dividing the Disputed Lands among them. None of the other Free Cities can stand alone against you. The Golden Company may be the largest mercenary force, but once I sign an agreement with you, they will have to consider your influence."
"This sounds more like you're seeking my protection," Wright remarked, sensing there was more the Tattered Prince had yet to say.
The Tattered Prince glanced at his men, who understood the cue and moved to disperse the surrounding crowd.
Noting this, Wright tapped his foot on the ground, activating a silencing spell that spread outward from his sole. A brief flash of purple light flickered before disappearing. "Now, no one outside a three-step radius will hear us, no matter how loudly we shout. Speak freely."
"If Lord Wright helps me seize Pentos, then upon my death, control of Pentos will belong to you," the Tattered Prince said, swirling the wine in his cup.
Wright pondered for a moment. "That's quite an offer. Give me a reason to believe you."
The Golden Company, the most powerful mercenary group, operated mainly in the northern Free Cities. The Windblown, led by the Tattered Prince, ranked second and was active in the Disputed Lands. Over the decades, he had built deep connections with powerful figures in Tyrosh, Lys, Myr, and Volantis. His understanding of the region's shifting tides was profound.
The Tattered Prince shared his insights: "Tyrosh is absorbing all kinds of skills and religions. They take in commoners, criminals, slaves—even wildlings. Lord Wright, you're still young. Give it another ten or twenty years, and even the Disputed Lands may not be enough for you."
"Go on."
"Pentos is my birthplace—and the place I despise the most. If Lord Wright is destined to conquer Pentos one day, I would rather do it myself first."
"Then why would you leave its rule to me after your death?"
Their conversation was slow and deliberate, each word carefully weighed.
The Tattered Prince continued, "When I take Pentos, the damned Magisters must die. The vile system they uphold will be buried alongside them. But I have no heirs, and no one else in the Windblown is fit to succeed me. When I die, the company will likely fracture. If I entrust Pentos to you, you can ensure my brothers live out their remaining years in wealth and security."
Wright considered the offer—it wasn't bad. But he did not agree immediately. "This is a major undertaking. There needs to be a foundation of trust between us."
"Since the day I founded the Windblown, we have never failed to complete a contract, even in death," the Tattered Prince declared. "And I trust King Robert and you. A man who stands atop a hundred-foot dragon's head—Lord Wright—your word holds more weight than any temple priest's oath."
Wright evaluated the Tattered Prince's credibility. A man determined to seize a city cared deeply about reputation. Moreover, by mercenary code, his company could never accept a contract from the Golden Company. The conquest of Pentos would be a bloody endeavor, and if the Tattered Prince was willing to bear the blame, all the better.
"Deal. We have plenty of time to discuss the details. In fact, there's something happening tonight that can serve as a test of the Windblown's strength."
The Tattered Prince raised his cup once more. "On behalf of my brothers in the Windblown, I thank you."