Ch 55: Tyrion and Castiel
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To put a cherry on top, there is the last raid of Ironborns in which not a single one managed to get away.
"Must be friends and should never be enemy. If there is a chance, House Mormont must be removed from the game!"
This was the final thought of Tyrion before he went back to Bear's Keep for the evening meal.
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"Milord, if it pleases you, I'd like a moment of your time," Tyrion heard the soft request before he could gather his thoughts. It was evening, and a group of merchants had sought him out. Their de facto leader, Castiel Luther, was the one designated to speak with him.
"Well, I suppose I could use some company and a glass of wine. Come in," Tyrion granted the request, ushering the man inside. He retrieved a jar of wine and a platter of fruits that the maids had set out for him, placing them on the main table.
Castiel hastened to pour wine for both of them, maintaining a deferential posture and a flattering smile. "If I recall correctly, you are Castiel Luther, son of Old Luther. Am I right?" Tyrion inquired after a sip of the fine vintage.
"Aye, it's an honour for our family that the Lord remembers our name," Castiel acknowledged, raising his glass in respect before taking a sip.
"So, Castiel Luther, son of Old Luther, the merchant who's traversed thousands of miles from Lannisport, what brings you to seek an audience with me?" Tyrion inquired playfully.
"Milord, as you're aware, we've journeyed from Lannisport, forsaking the comforts of our homes and braving perilous lands and treacherous waters, facing the dangers of Ironborn and stormy seas..."
"Enough. If you think I'm unfamiliar with the speech you delivered last night to Lord Mormont, you're simply wasting my time. I've witnessed better theatrics at Casterly Rock. Get to the point. It might save both of us time and wine, two things I value greatly," Tyrion interjected, his patience waning. He found Luther's approach insipid and unimpressive.
"I apologize, Milord. My group and I have been petitioning Lord Mormont for a deal, but thus far, luck has eluded us. It would be incredibly generous of you to offer some guidance on which trading items to prioritize," Castiel explained.
"How generous, exactly, are we talking?" Tyrion inquired with a discerning gaze.
"We don't have much to offer, Milord, but we're willing to part with 5% of our monthly profits," Castiel proposed.
"Just 5%? Is that a jest, or did you base it on my height?" Tyrion retorted.
"No, Milord, I... I mean, we... don't wish to offend you, Milord. 10%. I can persuade the group to agree to 10% of the profits," Castiel stammered, his brow glistening with sweat, as he knelt before Tyrion in apology, offering an amended proposal.
After a contemplative pause, Tyrion spoke again. "Very well. 10% of the profits, but you must utilize Lannister ships from Lannisport for your trade. There's a risk of Ironborn attacks along this route, and only Lannister ships with adequate guards can ensure the safety of the trade without jeopardizing the trade. Understood?"
"Of course, Milord. Apart from Lannister ships, we wouldn't dare venture into these waters. I am grateful for your generosity on behalf of all the merchants who accompanied me," Castiel affirmed.
"Good. Now, Cousin Randolph informed me that Bear Island's primary export is fish. There is one, a delicacy as I am told and a costly one?" Tyrion asked.
"Yes, Milord. Red Belly. The locals hold them in high regard. As for price, they fetch a silver stag for a pound," Castiel confirmed.
"A silver stag... I've yet to savour such a rare fish. Isn't the Golden Trout considered the most expensive?" Tyrion inquired.
"That wasn't the case initially, Milord. It was only after House Lannister of Lannisport secured an exclusive arrangement for that fish that its value skyrocketed," Castiel explained.
"Ah, well, what can I say? We Lannisters do have an affinity for gold," Tyrion quipped, chuckling, and taking a sip of his wine.
"I'll confer with Lord Mormont shortly. Since we've already laid claim to the Golden Trout, I won't include Red Belly or any other fish in our agreement. Your group can focus on them. However, I doubt Lord Mormont will permit your group to extend its reach into other commodities without considering other merchant groups," Tyrion concluded.
"I understand, Milord," Castiel acquiesced, his face displaying a mixture of struggle and resignation before he nodded.
"Very well. Now, allow me to savour my wine in peace. I have my own matters to attend to," Tyrion dismissed the merchant without mercy, returning to his drink. However, he first retrieved a small diary from his pocket, transcribing the details onto a larger sheet of paper.
Tyrion didn't fritter away the day idly. He keenly observed every detail his eyes could capture, discerning the island's untapped potential. The armoury, for instance, held great promise. Shields, swords, arrowheads—all were imported from White Harbor, incurring considerable expense.
House Lannister had its own stringent standards for the armoury, and their expansive workshops were already manned by the ageing master armourer and his apprentices, crafting these wares.
Wine presented another opportunity. The Arbor Gold, with its name that practically ends with Gold, is incomparable to the cheap ale.
Additionally, textiles and fabrics are high in demand here. Compared to the cheap leather and coarse fabrics found on Bear Island, they offered a plethora of choices. From soft cotton materials to luxurious silk, Casterly Rock had everything to trade.
With these materials noted down, Tyrion juxtaposed them with the goods he sought in exchange from Bear Island, drafting his own trade list. He looked forward to seeing how Jorah would counter his attacks at dinner.
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