acute gastrointestinal illness struck like a whirlwind, knocking down the old man who had served King Robert for many years in a single night.
Maester Cormon from the Eyrie was the first physician to diagnose the old Prime Minister. Suspecting poisoning, he claimed the Prime Minister suffered from a stomach ailment and often added ice to his wine, affecting his digestive system. He gave Lord Arryn a laxative and pepper syrup, intending to make him vomit out the toxins.
However, Lord Jon's condition continued to worsen; he developed a high fever and became incoherent.
The men of the Prime Minister's Tower rushed to fetch Maester Pythier that very night, but after examining him, the Maester returned with only heartbreaking news. The Maester said he was powerless to help; the Prime Minister's recovery was hopeless, and that he should be given poppy milk on his deathbed to end his suffering.
Lady Lysa did not believe this and resisted for a long time, desperately pleading with the Maester to save her husband, later even sternly questioning why they were not saving him.
In his final, feverish moments, the old Prime Minister repeatedly called out the name "Robert." People wanted Robert Arryn to be with his father, but Lady Lysa forbade the boy from entering the room, fearing he would catch the disease. His Majesty
King Robert was by the old Prime Minister's side in his final moments. King Robert rushed to the scene and sat by his bedside for a long time, reminiscing with Lord Jon about happy times, hoping to lift the old Prime Minister's spirits. But the sudden illness was like a raging fire, and the King could only watch helplessly as Lord Jon's life was consumed by it. When
Maester Paishill suggested for the second time that the old Prime Minister be given poppy milk to ease his suffering, no one objected.
Before closing his eyes, the old Prime Minister desperately tried to say something: "The race is strong," but his feverish speech was slurred and indistinct.
The old Prime Minister did not survive until the next morning.
The only consolation was that the Prime Minister calmed down after drinking the poppy milk. Maester Paishill assured the King that he died peacefully.
The old Prime Minister's funeral was held solemnly in the Great Cathedral of Baelor. From the King down, everyone was deeply saddened by his sudden passing.
The funeral was conducted by the King in his stead—the day after the old Prime Minister's death, Lady Lysa and her son Robert Arryn left King's Landing without informing anyone and returned to the Vale.
The Master of the Court and the nobles of the royal domains all attended the solemn funeral—except for the King's Master of the Sea, Lord Stannis Baratheon, who had disappeared the night the old Prime Minister fell ill and had not attended the King's personal council the following day; the King could not find him and did not want to.
No one cared about these two insignificant matters.
But when everyone was anticipating who the King would appoint as the new Prime Minister, the King surprised everyone by announcing his journey north to the North to visit Winterfell. When
the news reached Illyrio across the Narrow Sea, the fat governor was so shocked he nearly dropped his cup. He was caught off guard; the changing winds of the Seven Kingdoms and the old Prime Minister's sudden death had left him completely unprepared.
Varys' letter stated that the conspiracy had other motives, and even he hadn't found out who had secretly harmed the old prime minister. He had only heard rumors and tried to stop it but failed. He had several suspects, but these were meaningless to Illyrio in his letter.
Everything had already happened; they should act accordingly. Varys believed that the events had occurred suddenly, and the Beggar King and his forces must also be caught off guard. Illyrio needed to seize the opportunity to investigate the Beggar King's background—knowing only that the Beggar King had one-way communication was far from enough.
The old prime minister's sudden death was unexpected, and King Robert's decision to head north was also unforeseen. The more complex the situation, the more they needed to remain calm, do their own work, and wait for the right moment.
Illyrio didn't read the letter a second time before burning it.
Illyrio frowned, pondering the information while considering how the "Griffins" would react if the information were sent to them, and how the "Beggar King" would react.
News from Pentos to Westeros was usually delayed. For example, Illyrio's sources arrived in Pentos days, even a week, before the rumors actually reached him.
At this moment, the discussion in Pentos harbor was still about Loras Tyrell, "The Knight of Flowers," defeating Jaime Lannister, "The Kingslayer," in the tournament on Prince Joffrey's name day.
Loras was a rising star in Westeros, his youthful prowess and handsome appearance widely known in Pentos harbor through the sailors traveling between the Seven Kingdoms. Coincidentally, Viserys learned of the death of his former Hand of the King,
Jon
Arryn, on the same day as the Duke of Stark in the North, even slightly earlier.
"I received shocking news today, Your Majesty. I did not wish to disturb you so late at night," Illyrio informed Viserys the day before the first sailors expected to arrive, informed of the upheavals in the Seven Kingdoms. The portly governor himself arrived and, after kicking Viserys's personal maid, Annie, out of the room, announced, "Jon Arryn has passed away."
"Who?" Viserys feigned surprise, as if he hadn't heard him clearly.
Illyrio's expression was grave: "Jon Arryn. The Hand of the King, the Usurper, Jon Arryn, Hand of the Seven Kingdoms."
Viserys's face lit up with an excited, exaggerated smile: "Jon Arryn? He's dead?!" He seemed incredulous at the sudden joy, asking Illyrio for confirmation, "Is this news true?" "
My men told me personally that upon learning the news in King's Landing, they immediately spurred their empty ships, loaded only with ballast, back to Pentos," Illyrio, prepared for this, presented a scroll of paper, written in a hastily written script common to all seven kingdoms. "This is their copy of the obituary, Your Majesty."
Viserys's hands trembled as he took the paper, examining it again and again, his fingers damp with sweat. "Where are they, your men, Illyrio?"
Illyrio replied, "I arranged for them to rest in the port; I didn't let them come here."
Viserys's breathing quickened: "Reward them! Reward them handsomely!"
"Your Majesty, I've given them gold, as agreed upon. What else would you like to reward them with?"
Viserys looked around. "I have nothing right now, Illyrio. Give each of them double their reward, put it on my tab, along with the dragon bones. I'll repay you all at once in the future."
"Yes, Your Majesty," Illyrio readily agreed. "Is there anything else you require of me?"
"Illyrio, I told you I was lying low, waiting for my opportunity, and now it has arrived." Viserys was beaming with pride. "I just didn't expect it to be so soon. Truly, the gods have eyes!"
Illyrio asked eagerly, "What can I do for you, Your Majesty?"
"What can I do?" This question made Viserys pause. He slightly suppressed his smug expression and asked seriously and urgently, "Are there rumors circulating in the Seven Kingdoms, Illyrio?"
"What kind of rumors?" Illyrio asked.
"Hmm? The one I told you about." Viserys' expression was serious.
"Uh, well… I'm afraid there aren't any such rumors," Illyrio replied. "Perhaps news from the Seven Kingdoms hasn't reached us yet, after all, they're separated by the Narrow Sea, Your Majesty."
"Have your men in the Seven Kingdoms keep a close eye on this matter, Illyrio," Viserys said solemnly. "This is very important." "Yes, Your Majesty."
Viserys thought for a moment, then, as if remembering something, asked, "Has anyone inquired about the dragon bone pendant I asked you to put up for sale?"
"Yes, some have." Illyrio seemed somewhat embarrassed.
"Oh?" Viserys seemed concerned.
"…A collector thought the blackened silver chain on the pendant was some kind of novel material. After finding out, he called us profiteers, Your Majesty." Illyrio answered calmly.
"…" Viserys was momentarily speechless. "Anything else?"
"Nothing else, Your Majesty."
"…Alright." Viserys seemed a little uncomfortable. "If anyone else inquires, be sure to inform me as soon as possible."
"Yes." Illyrio seemed to accept all of Viserys' orders without question.
Viserys suddenly fell silent, staring at Illyrio, as if deep in thought.
Illyrio waited quietly.
Finally, Viserys spoke: "Besides that, prepare a ship for me."
Illyrio inquired with concern, "What does Your Majesty intend to do?"
Viserys did not answer the fat governor's question. He looked at the fat governor with a solemn expression, more serious than ever before: "Gods above, I ask you, Illyrio, I am now just a king with nothing. If I were to ask you to assume the duties of Chancellor of the Exchequer right now, would you be willing?"
Illyrio's expression brightened: "It is my honor that Your Majesty is willing to trust me and command me."
"Good. I didn't misjudge you." Viserys' eyes glistened with tears. He gave Illyrio a new title, saying, "My Chancellor of the Exchequer."
Illyrio readily accepted the title, his enthusiasm rising as he asked, "Your Majesty, what do you require of me?"
Viserys sniffed, as if controlling his emotions. After a moment, he said, "Before that, I must tell you something. My Chancellor of the Exchequer. You asked me before where my army would come from when the time is right. Now I tell you, I have another plan with a lord of a territory within the Seven Kingdoms. He will send troops to help me restore my kingdom. I'm sorry, but I cannot tell you who he is without their consent. But rest assured, we have already planned everything."
"Hiss…" Illyrio's shock was palpable. "Your Majesty… You… You're telling me something so important, I am truly… deeply moved."
"My Chancellor of the Exchequer," Viserys said, placing a hand on his Chancellor's shoulder to calm him, "I'm telling you this to put your mind at ease and to give you more confidence when you do things for me."
Illyrio was flattered. "What do you want me to do, Your Majesty?"
"My Chancellor of the Exchequer," Viserys stated his request, "I want you to go north to Braavos and, in my name and that of King Viserys III, secretly borrow money from the Iron Treasury. Go to Braavos, to Norfolk, to Corhol and borrow from bankers and merchants you trust."
Hearing this task, Illyrio quickly
said, "If it's money, Your Majesty, I have some wealth." Viserys was prepared. "No, even if you are my Chancellor of the Exchequer, a king should not squander the wealth of his subjects. Besides, it's not entirely about money; it's best if they are willing to lend, but it doesn't matter if they aren't."
Illyrio looked puzzled. "This?"
"Your real purpose is to subtly spread that rumor when you ask for a loan, remember? 'Three Crown Princes.'"
Illyrio finally showed shock: "Your Majesty, isn't this a bit too radical?"
"My Chancellor of the Exchequer, this tactic is called, 'A new song of the seven kingdoms, sung simultaneously within and beyond the borders,'" Viserys said. "Do you understand?"
[But what if there's no sound within the borders? What if there's no chaos? Wouldn't we become clowns and targets abroad?]
Illyrio suspected, no, he was certain. The beggar king beside him had no idea how sudden and unexpected the old prime minister's death had been. The beggar king mistakenly thought this was the right time, and without even consulting the Dornish, he began to act according to the plan they had somehow devised. "Your Majesty
, your execution is good enough, but your mind seems a bit
off."
Viserys's face hardened. "You don't want to?"
"Of course I do." Illyrio smiled. "By the way, Your Majesty, you mentioned earlier that you wanted me to arrange a ship for you."
"Yes. Yes, prepare a ship for me." Viserys said, "While you travel north, I will travel south to Myr, to Tyros, to Lys to borrow money from those governors, lords, and wealthy merchants. Of course, borrowing money is a pretense; I'm going to secretly spread that rumor."
Illyrio didn't know what to say. He asked with a hint of amusement, "What about Pentos, Your Majesty?"
Viserys said, "That's your hometown. If the usurpers come looking for it, it won't be good if it's exposed. It will pose a threat to you."
[You're quite nice.] Illyrio almost laughed. [How can I 'secretly' complete this seemingly wonderful plan in another city, achieving it secretly without exposing myself?] While
Illyrio remained silent, the Beggar King was still envisioning his success: "We'll meet in Volantis, my treasurer. 'We',"
he implied, suggesting that his patron lord would also appear when they arrived in Volantis.
The fat governor opened his mouth, but feeling he had just gained the Beggar King's trust and shouldn't provoke him while he was in high spirits, he said,
"Yes, Your Majesty."
.....
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(End of Chapter)