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Game Of Thrones: Clash of Lords

100 men and women's from all walks of life were chosen to participate in a Game Of Thrones: Clash of Lord, Not only were they suppose to conspire and compete for hegemony with the native lords and lady's of the original series of Game Of Thrones but they were also required to wipe out the other 99 participants in the game of hegemony and conspiracy. This will be a battler where 100 participants who are at the top of their field clashing against each other. From the best assassin to the best businessman from the best politician to the best strategies.

RainHearteeme · Book&Literature
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38 Chs

Chapter 33 Mercenary Captains

  "The coat of arms of the Grafson family in Seagull Town," Ian answered.

  "You are very well informed," his companion noted.

  "Heraldry is a mandatory course for nobles, although I am not a noble," Ian added, "So, did he arrive at the inn yesterday afternoon? Has he left today?"

  "Yes, he didn't even order breakfast," the innkeeper replied.

  "So, which way in the King's Road did he took" Ian raised his head to look out of the window. From the sun's position, it seemed to be past nine in the morning. "Where is he going? Who would be in a rush at this hour?"

  "I don't know, sir."

  "Of course, you don't," Ian remarked. "Knock on his door, ask if he wants breakfast, observe his room, and then report back to me."

  Janey reluctantly nodded. "Yes, sir."

  "Also, have Martha personally deliver our breakfast later."

  "Yes, sir."

  "While Martha is busy in the kitchen, help out with some of her tasks here for me," Ian instructed.

  "You can ask her for details, but remember, it's a confidential matter. If the secret gets out..."

  "No, absolutely not, I swear," Jenny quickly promised.

  Ian waved her away, and she hurriedly left the room.

  Not long after, a hearty breakfast was delivered to Ian's room. The meal consisted of mutton soup, a fat goose, buttered peas, beet salad, oatmeal bread, and ale. Ian passed the ale to Rohr.

  "Now, tell me about the Black Falcon situation," Ian said as he began to eat the soup.

  "Sorry, sir, I haven't had a chance to talk to Boss Morgan yet," Martha replied.

  Ian looked at her, waiting for an explanation.

  "Well, you see, Boss Morgan hasn't left his room or ordered breakfast. He's probably still asleep," Martha explained.

  "Your niece just told me that a knight from the Grafson family hasn't gotten up yet. Are they both still sleeping together?" Ian asked, his tone half joking.

  "Sir, you really love to joke," Martha said.

  "Do you need me to teach you how to knock on the door, then?" Ian rolled his eyes. "You won't wake him up if he's still asleep?"

  "I don't dare, sir. Boss Morgan hates being disturbed while sleeping," Martha replied quickly. "But I've already taken care of the other mercenary matters for you. Four scattered mercenaries have been sent away, and one is still in the hall."

"Good," Ian said.

  "Then, the two mercenary captains, Denzel and Sir Grantham, are willing to accept your assignment. Denzel's team has nine people, and I've negotiated a rate of 3,000 silver stags per month. Sir Grantham's team has four cavalrymen, and their rate is 2,500 silver stags per month."

  "Can they come see me now?" Ian asked.

  "Yes, they've been waiting for you," Martha replied.

  "Then, bring them in. Also, keep an eye on the Black Falcon. If he comes out, talk to him about me as soon as possible."

  "Yes," Martha acknowledged before leaving the room.

  A short while later, a young man with burgundy hair and a middle aged man wearing chainmail knocked on the door and entered.

  The young man was dressed in Dornish style attire with a scimitar and dagger on his belt, and the middle aged man wore a chainmail shirt with a longsword at his side.

  Without waiting for Ian's order, Keith stepped forward and positioned himself between Ian and the two mercenaries. This would allow Ian to converse with them while ensuring his safety.

  "You look quite young, sir," the young man remarked with a smile.

  "I am Ser Lucion Lannister, and I am indeed not a seasoned man," Ian corrected.

  "Are you a member of the Lannister family?" the young man inquired.

  "Is that a problem?" Ian asked.

  "No," the young man replied, "I'm Denzel, though they usually call me 'Spike.' I'm honored to serve you."

  "Sir Grantham," the middle aged man introduced himself and got straight to the point, "As for the price that Martha negotiated, we agreed on 2,500 silver stags per month."

  "That's what I proposed, no need to doubt it," Ian said. He then looked at Denzel and continued, "And your team's rate is 3,000. Regarding payment, I can provide half up front and the remaining half upon completion of the task."

  "No, we need all of it upfront," Sir Grantham firmly stated.

  "This isn't the norm in this industry," Ian commented.

  "But for your mission, this is the industry norm," Sir Grantham replied.

  "My mission?" Ian raised an eyebrow. "What did Martha tell you?"

  "She didn't say anything, but I believe you require us for something very dangerous," Denzel stated. "Why else would the reward be three times the market rate?"

  "Rich as a Lannister," Ian quoted a well known saying in Westeros. "What I need you to do will take time, requires obedience and execution, but there won't be much danger involved. As for the threefold payment, it goes back to an experience I had two years ago."