Tyrion nodded dumbly. How?
Tommen sighed again, shut his eyes tight, and rubbed his brow as though he were attempting to dispel a headache.
...
"You know something," Lord Tywin deduced. "What?"
"Aegon Targaryen," Tommen finally said. "Or, at least, someone claiming to be him. Varys claimed that he switched the babes before the Mountain's arrival, and that what you presented to my father was merely a common babe. As I said, he was a Targaryen loyalist through and through. My spies think that he's planning a claim to my crown. Reports are sparse, information is thin on the ground, but there are rumours that the Golden Company plans to take up arms with him."
"Traditionally supporters of the Blackfyres," Lord Tywin noted.
Tommen nodded, "My thoughts exactly. I have not yet managed to confirm Varys' claims, though I suppose it matters little. An army is still an army."
"And you didn't think I needed to know this?" his father questioned. There was a hostile edge to his tone, but Tyrion was surprised to discover how small it was. He likes this one, Tyrion thought.
"I had already planned to deal with him," Tommen explained. "This hardly changes much. I had hoped my spies were mistaken, of course, but I am not surprised. The main problem now will be preventing Danaerys Targaryen and Aegon from joining ranks. Alone, I can quite comfortably handle them. But with the might of the Golden Company joined together with the Dothraki and the Unsullied, and those three dragons of hers, and the threat they can pose becomes quite concerning."
Dragons! he thought, half-hysterical. And an army to match! "And you had a plan for this?" Tyrion asked incredulously.
"Yes," Tommen nodded, deadly calm. "I was going to pit the black dragon against the red, and allow them to weaken each other. I am told that Aegon plans to offer his hand in marriage to Daenerys. It should not be too hard to muddle that up. Let old rivalries take their course once again. It's risky, but it is the path that costs me the least for the moment. There were other plans, but those are even riskier, and more difficult. Even if the rewards are greater."
"And your men could do this?" Tywin asked.
Tommen shrugged. "Perhaps, perhaps not. But that is a matter for another day," he said as a servant entered to announce the arrival of Noho Dimittis. Tommen sent the servant back, bidding Noho to enter. He then turned back to the two of them, "Now, remember, you will answer when I call on you. Do not interrupt unless you think it absolutely necessary. I don't think I have to tell either of you how important this is."
Tyrion nodded, and asked: "We wish to stall repayments, yes?"
Tommen shook his head, "No, not quite. We want to simply reduce repayments. If the Iron Bank receives no gold from us, then there is a risk they may seek it elsewhere. The goal is to balance expenditures and revenues, not to strengthen an enemy of ours."
Tyrion nodded again as Noho Dimittis entered, "Your Grace."
"Lord Noho!" Tommen said with a pleasant smile and a jovial lilt to his voice. "Please, sit. Are you well?"
"Well enough, Your Grace," Noho replied flatly. "I was told you wished to discuss the debts?"
"Yes," Tommen nodded. "I wish to negotiate to a lower interest payment."
"The Iron Bank will be paid in full," Noho declared. "Nothing less will suffice."
"That they will," Tommen assured him. "And yet winter comes regardless. Simply put, Lord Noho, the current debt payments exceed our revenues. And to protect your investment - and our ability to pay - some concessions will have to be made."
Lord Noho looked doubtful.
"You must ask yourself, Lord Noho: what is in the Iron Bank's interests? That the realms starves, and we lose our ability to continue paying? Perhaps you think you can back one of my rivals instead, but that will not change the reality of this situation. Even if they win - and that is not likely - they will inherit the same frozen fields and empty vaults. There is a superstition among the smallfolk, you might like to know, that the longer the summer, the longer the following winter. And this summer has lasted more than a decade." Tommen leaned forwards, his tone earnest and open, "We want to pay. We just need a little room to breathe."
Noho considered the King's words for a long moment. Then, he said: "What do you propose?"
"Interest payments should be cut in half over the course of the coming winter and the following summer. We will continue paying that half quite happily, and then once the realm has recovered from winter and this terrible war, repayment can resume in full."
Noho still seemed reluctant, "I note your coffers are full. The Iron Bank demands surety."
"The Iron Throne is prepared to deposit a hundred-thousand as surety," Tommen calmly replied. "Consider it a down-payment on the debt, if you will, and reduce our payments by that sum."
"You have more," Noho said. "A hundred-thousand is not sufficient, given the size of the debts you owe us."
The King nodded, "I do. That gold is meant for fighting the last wars to unite my kingdom, to repair the damage done by these wars, and to plant and reap the last harvests before winter. And, if the worst comes true, to import enough food to stave off a famine. You must be reasonable, Lord Noho."
"I am being reasonable," Noho replied. "A hundred-thousand is insufficient."
"Very well," Tommen sighed, exasperated. "I will be generous, and offer a hundred-and-fifty-thousand, and not a groat more. Five percent of all that we owe should suffice."
Noho nodded, looking neither pleased nor displeased.
"And you should note, Lord Noho, that I consider it the Iron Bank's responsibility to collect this sum. You will send your ships here, and I will load them with my gold and silver, and then what happens to them after they leave my shores is neither my responsibility nor my concern. Once the gold is on those ships, I will consider my obligations fulfilled."
Noho frowned, but nodded regardless, "That is... acceptable."
"Well enough," the King said, "with that matter settled, there is one last thing I wished to discuss."
"What, Your Grace?" Noho asked.
"I hear, Lord Noho, that the Iron Bank has some connection with the Faceless Men of Braavos. Is this true?"
Noho seemed suddenly uncomfortable, "We... have employed their services in the past. Against those who failed to repay."
"And... you would be willing to employ their services again?" Tommen questioned. "On my behalf?"
"We would," Noho nodded hesitantly. "For a fee."
The King smiled a wicked smile, and clapped his hands together in delight. "For a fee!" he exclaimed. "Of course, Lord Noho, of course. I think this has been a productive meeting for the both of us, no? Please, Lord Noho, you are welcome to stay a while longer. I will have the details of the arrangement for you later."
Noho smiled a cold, humourless smile. He nodded as he stood from his seat and said, "Yes, I think so too. I will arrange transport for what you owe us, Your Grace. And I will await your message."
"My thanks, Lord Noho," Tommen said. "You are dismissed."
The three of them watched Lord Noho leave the room in silence. Nobody said a word. Then, finally the King sighed a relieved sigh and said, "Well, that was easier than I thought it would be."
"The faceless men?" Tyrion asked.
Tommen shrugged, "They are as good as killers get. And I need some people killed."
"They are expensive," Tywin said.
"A price worth paying," Tommen simply said as he stood from his seat, "when the prize is a kingdom."
"Who?" his father asked, fast reaching the limit of his patience.
"The claimant across the water," Tommen said. "Who else? Now, if you'll forgive me, my lords, I must leave you. The training yard beckons. Tyrion, I trust you will be able to organize the payments with Lord Noho?"
Tyrion nodded dutifully, "I will." When His Grace was gone, Tyrion turned to his father, "What do you think of him?"
"Entirely too impudent by half," his father said as he stood from his seat. "Not unlike you in wit, though far more prudent with his tongue."
"And he's not a dwarf," Tyrion added glibly. "You must be thrilled."
"He has not yet proven a disappointment," Tywin said in a voice of quiet satisfaction.
No, Tyrion thought as he watched his father leave, I suppose he hasn't.
...
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