Chapter 140: Illyrio's trump card (Part 2)
"Yes, a little," Illyrio nodded, "but it is not nearly enough. In truth, General Uther has always concealed his intentions masterfully. To this day, he has shown no public ambition to stand for election himself."
"Therefore, the two leading candidates are both seeking his endorsement, and his own attitude remains deliberately ambiguous. While he vaguely hints at supporting the second-place candidate, he leaves the door wide open for the front-runner to win him over," Illyrio continued.
"Hazan and I had a similar relationship. He tried to win my support, and when he consistently failed, he became quite… dissatisfied with me."
"But in that case, why did you not stop Prince Hazan yesterday?" Ian asked quickly. "If he were to die here in Pentos…"
"If Marianne Freyga's precious son dies in Pentos," Illyrio interrupted, his voice firm, "and it becomes known that I prevented a master Water Dancer from serving as his champion, then in the eyes of the Iron Bank's wealthiest keyholder, I would be solely responsible for Hazan's death."
He paused to let the weight of his words sink in. "To the Sea King's Palace, this contest is an insignificant affair in an insignificant city. But to Marianne Freyga, it is her son's life. Which of those carries more weight?"
*An old fox,* Ian thought with a flicker of admiration. *I completely overlooked that.*
But then, another thought occurred to him. Illyrio seemed completely unaware that the Sea King's Palace had already suborned the two Water Dancers fighting for Hazan. They were planning to use the prince's death to formally declare war on the Frega family.
Ian wondered what expression Illyrio would wear after the contest, when he discovered that he had unwittingly sabotaged the Sea King's entire scheme.
"Before you do anything, you must weigh the pros and cons, the gains and the losses," Illyrio continued his lesson, his tone professorial. "If the damage you might inflict on an enemy is far less than the retaliation you are likely to receive, then it is an action you must not take."
"I will remember that, my lord." Ian understood the principle well enough, but he recognized a weakness in himself. He sometimes lacked the instinct for it, the political nose to sniff out every hidden variable in the equation. That, he supposed, was a sense that could only be honed by experience.
"Furthermore, Ambassador Olanto and I enjoy a good personal relationship," Illyrio added. "He has been trying for some time to draw me into Marianne Freyga's camp. I intended to use this situation to grant Olanto a favor, but Hazan found a way to convince Viserys on his own, robbing the ambassador of the chance to even ask me."
Ian shifted slightly, touching the bridge of his nose. *And that was because of my hint to Hazan.*
"But no matter what, you will surely offend the Volantis Party, will you not? This still undermines your neutral position in Pentos." Ian saw an opportunity to probe deeper into the city's internal strife and posed a new question.
Illyrio took another bite of bread, then tore a piece of meat from a quail leg. A rare look of utter disdain crossed his face. "The Volantis Party? Who are they?"
"Unless the Tiger Party returns to power in Volantis, the so-called Volantis Party is nothing more than a swarm of flies. If I had not secretly propped them up to serve as a nuisance to Hazan, he would have crushed them long ago."
He gave a dismissive wave of his hand. "Even Governor Tetrus, one of their two pillars, only defected to their cause in petty retaliation after the Iron Bank refused his attempts at blackmail. Do you truly think they would dare to be dissatisfied with me?"
"But what if Governor Tetrus loses his son in this contest?"
"Governor Guerrero Tetrus has seven sons," Illyrio said flatly, "and that is not counting his bastards."
Ian had to suppress a laugh.
"Then if Suda Tetrus is so unimportant, and the Volantis Party so weak, why did Prince Hazan agree to his challenge?" Ian asked, a new question forming in his mind. "He had no need to take such a risk himself, did he?"
Illyrio, who had been focused on his meal, looked up. He seemed slightly surprised that Ian had connected those dots.
"To be honest, I had the same doubt at first," he admitted. "Hazan is a very shrewd man. Logically, he never should have accepted such a foolish invitation. It took my agents a great deal of time to investigate the matter thoroughly."
"And the conclusion?"
"The conclusion involves a woman. You have met Hazan's fiancée, Delif. What was your impression of her?"
Ian thought for a moment before answering honestly. "Shocking."
"And there you have your answer," Illyrio said. "My little mice gathered a great many clues, and a pattern emerged. Ever since he has been with Delif, on any matter that involves her, Hazan becomes irritable, quick to anger, and remarkably narrow-minded. He is a completely different man from his usual self."
The Magister shrugged. "In truth, it is quite normal. No matter how formidable a man may be, when his cock starts to rule his mind, he ceases to be rational. It reminds me of a dear friend of mine. He has no such troubles, and as a result, he is always impeccably wise."
*His cock starts to rule his mind.* The phrase made Ian think, inexplicably, of the absurd notion that had taken hold of him just last night.
He considered his situation. Within the walls of Pentos were Illyrio's vast intelligence network and private army. Just outside was Khal Drogo's *khalasar* of forty thousand screamers. The player Ander Poole was still at large, and Gini Taime was yet to be found. In such a precarious position, he had entertained an idea where the potential rewards were dwarfed by the catastrophic risks.
Was that what Illyrio meant?
"Do you have any other questions?"
"No, my lord," Ian replied, offering a seamless compliment. "Since everything is proceeding according to your plan, I am relieved."
This was an excellent result. He could now help Hazan openly and directly without having to invent any new excuses.
"Very good." For some reason, Illyrio seemed to be growing more and more satisfied with Ian. "But I did not summon you here today to discuss this matter."
"Then why did you send for me?" *You can't possibly want to name me your heir, can you?*
"You have met Viserys," Illyrio said, his tone shifting. "What is your feeling about him?" It was a question that, for a courtier, bordered on treason.
"His Majesty?" Ian was taken aback for a moment, then blurted out the first safe answer that came to mind. "Aegon the Conqueror reincarnated."
Illyrio did not expect such a response. His mouth opened, then closed again. He blinked, trying his best to control the muscles in his face, but in the end, he failed. A deep, rumbling laugh escaped him.
"Aegon the Conqueror reincarnated! Hahahaha!" Illyrio boomed, repeating the phrase with delight. "Aegon the Conqueror reincarnated!"
Seeing the Magister's mirth, Ian explained himself. "It is for the king to judge his ministers, never the other way around. If the king errs, it is only because his councillors have failed to provide him with correct advice."
"Excellent. Smooth," Illyrio praised with satisfaction, even forgetting whether he had ever taught Ian such a thing. "This is the most fundamental skill of a politician. It seems you have indeed learned well."
"But today," Illyrio's voice suddenly became serious, "I wish to speak with you honestly. What do you truly think of Viserys?"
This time, hearing the gravity in his tone, Ian understood. This was a test. This was the prelude to Illyrio revealing the existence of his true trump card, of 'Aegon VI'.
And his next answer would determine whether he would finally be welcomed into the very heart of Illyrio's grand design.
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