Chapter 134: Khal Drogo's Banquet (7)
"Yes. Yada, the Water Dancer. He is now my Kingsguard." Viserys's chin lifted, a proud, sharp angle against the torchlight. To have a Master of the Water Dance as his personal sworn shield was a point of immense pride, one of the few tangible symbols of his station he currently possessed.
"And it is precisely Master Yada's help that I require," Hazan said, before launching into a detailed account of the upcoming tourney, carefully explaining the circumstances from his perspective.
In the tale Hazan spun, of course, he was cast as the blameless and unfortunate victim.
"So," Hazan concluded, his voice laced with desperation, "if Your Majesty would consent to send Master Yada to fight in my name, I would have far greater confidence in surviving this… crisis of life and death."
"This…" Viserys faltered, suddenly uncertain. Hazan had painted the situation in the gravest of terms, and he had only just called the man 'friend'. To abandon a friend to his fate was hardly the act of a king, and he knew it.
Hesitating, Viserys instinctively began to turn, his eyes seeking out Illyrio for some silent signal, some hint of what to do.
But Hazan, who had been observing Viserys's every twitch, keenly caught the motion. This was the precise moment for which he had been waiting.
Before Viserys could complete the turn, Hazan spoke quickly. "Of course, if you have any doubts, Your Majesty, you can seek the counsel of Magister Illyrio. He is, after all, your protector. A wise elder."
As Hazan had predicted, the words struck their mark. Viserys's head, already halfway turned, froze in place. He snapped it back, his expression stiff with indignation.
"Illyrio is my *patron*, not my protector! I require no one's protection!" Viserys's hands clenched into fists at his sides.
"My apologies, Your Majesty," Hazan said at once, bowing his head. "I meant only to say 'patron.' Please forgive my unfamiliarity with the Common Tongue. However, speaking of the Magister, perhaps you truly should ask his advice. My own relationship with him is not… harmonious. It may be that he would not wish for you to be friends with me."
"I need no one's advice!" Viserys retorted, his voice rising. This was a slight he could not bear. Everything tonight had allowed him to taste the respect a true king deserved, but Hazan's words had dragged him back to the memory of those long days spent under Illyrio's thumb, his will subject to another's. "I am the King. I will do as I please and help whom I please. Illyrio is my subject! You say your relations are not harmonious? What of it? I can order him to shake your hand and make peace!"
"If that were truly the case, it would be wonderful," Hazan pressed. "So, Your Majesty, does this mean you agree to help me?"
"This…" Viserys choked for a moment. He had only meant to assert that Illyrio's opinion was irrelevant, but now… if he refused Hazan, would he not be admitting his words were empty boasts?
"You are a man of your word," Hazan reminded him softly.
"Of course," Viserys said, forcing himself to stand taller. "Yada will fight for you."
"Your Majesty," a new voice interjected. It was Daeron, stepping forward.
"Lord Grafson. You have something to say?"
"Your Majesty, I do not believe we should agree to this so readily. At the very least, we should know what Prince Hazan's chances of victory are." Daeron glanced at Hazan, then fixed his gaze back on Viserys.
"After all, should you agree, this will be the first time in more than a decade that a man fights as a knight of House Targaryen. The outcome of this contest is tied directly to your honor. Our people should either not participate at all, or we must ensure Prince Hazan can win."
"Yes, this concerns my honor," Viserys said, nodding slowly. He turned back to Hazan. "Can you win?"
Faced with such a blunt question, Hazan was momentarily at a loss. "Of course, Your Majesty. We have engaged two water dancers, as well as a formidable Hand of the Holy Fire—a temple warrior of R'hllor, the Lord of Light—and a champion gladiator. I am a capable warrior myself. With Master Yada on our side, I have absolute confidence in our victory."
*There are only three people you can count on right now, including yourself,* Ian thought, cursing silently from the sidelines. *If those two water dancers actually follow through with their betrayal, not even the gods will be able to save you.*
"This…" Viserys looked to Daeron again. On most matters, he was not a man who could easily make up his own mind.
"The judgment must be yours, Your Majesty," Daeron said, properly deferential, offering no answer himself.
"Then my decision stands," Viserys declared before Daeron could offer any further dissuasion.
"Since you insist, Your Majesty, I ask to act alongside Master Yada," Daeron continued. "Allow me to inspect Prince Hazan's team and do what I can to secure their victory."
"What is your opinion on this?" Viserys asked Hazan.
"That is your right, Your Majesty," Hazan replied, offering no objection.
"Very well. You and Yada will go to Hazan's estate tomorrow. Remember," Viserys said, his gaze fixed on Daeron, "you must win."
"Your will, Your Majesty," Daeron said, accepting the command.
Hazan thanked Viserys profusely before returning to his female companion. A short distance away, the conversation between Illyrio and Ambassador Olanto continued, uninterrupted.
*A perfect ending,* Ian thought. His eyes flickered to the red-robed woman standing near Hazan's fiancée, Delifu.
Daeron's performance tonight had been, of course, entirely orchestrated by Ian in advance. The man—no longer the second son of the Earl of Seagull Town, but the Earl himself—possessed a true talent for acting. The second act of their little play had concluded flawlessly, a feat impossible without Daeron's contribution.
With that, Ian's purpose for attending the banquet had been achieved.
First, he had sworn allegiance to Viserys, completing his second main quest.
Second, he had secured Viserys's promise, ensuring Hazan could participate in the tournament and kill the player known as Ender.
Third, and most subtly, he had positioned Daeron as the direct and vocal proponent of having Yada fight for Hazan.
He and Daeron were both figures who had never appeared beside the Dragon Mother in the original histories. The players in Pentos would undoubtedly be suspicious of their origins and motives. But now, Daeron had acted with such impatience, so eager to help Hazan win a contest where the opponent was another player. In the eyes of Ender and his allies, this would all but confirm that 'Daeron Grafson' was one of them.
Although having Daeron 'confirmed' as a player wouldn't lessen the suspicion on Ian himself, pushing a visible target like Daeron to the forefront would give Ian the perfect opportunity to lure the snake from its hole.
*Now, no matter who makes a move against Daeron,* Ian thought with grim satisfaction, *I will be there to grab them by the tail.*
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