Chapter 6.5 Baelish

"How is the training of the new one going?" asked Wolfgang to Amon, who was kneeling in front of him.

"Excellent my lord. He was definitely a good replacement for the one who died pierced by an arrow."

"Well, that boy wasn't too special either" Wolfgang muttered, but the next moment a knock sounded at the door.

"My lord" came the voice of the guard. "Lord Baelish requests a meeting, and he seems rather impatient."

"Baelish?" muttered Lord Dustin again, and glanced at Amon, who nodded slightly. Thereupon, he lifted the hood that hung down his back to hide his face, and headed for the exit.

As he entered, Littlefinger glanced sideways at the retreating figure, unable to make out his face, but didn't think much of it. It wasn't unusual to see people who didn't want their faces exposed, though a bud of curiosity planted itself in his subconscious.

"Lord Dustin."

"Lord Baelish, you seem rather anxious."

"That's because I'm afraid I bring news," the man commented, his face evincing concern.

"It seems urgent news."

"They are my lord. I have just met with Lord Stark."

"You have? I was notified that he arrived less than an hour ago. He's a fast person, Lord Baelish, even I haven't been able to meet with him yet."

"Too busy?"

"That's right, and that's why I would ask you to be brief."

"My last name is Brief" smiled the man, as he held a small book in his small hands. "Lord Stark asked me for something, the record of the gold coming from the Barrowlands to Gulltown. It seems House Dustin doesn't pay all the taxes he should."

"Is that so? Those books have no evidence on that horrendous claim, knowing how much gold comes into Gulltown is not enough. You would need the numbers from Kingslanding, where the largest amount goes, and Sunspear."

"For someone like Ned Stark, it's not hard to send a raven to the King."

"That's right, but I know you're not going to give that book to Ned Stark," Wolfgang Dustin replied, pointing to the small book Baelish guarded. 'It must not even be the royal ledger, that one must have been left at Gulltown.'

'How can you be so sure Milord?'

"Because you would be the one most harmed. If you turn that over to them, all your customs fraud in Gulltown would be made public" replied the man, but Baelish's smile did not wane. "Sure, I would have to pay a little more tax, but Lord Stark would do nothing more for my position in the North. Another lord would use this as an excuse to take my gold, but Eddard Stark is not that kind of lord. You, on the other hand, would lose your next promotion as Counselor of Coin in King's Landing, and not only that, you would also lose your head to Lord Grafton."

"That's a risky deduction, many things could change."

"The future is not written, Lord Baelish, that is why we men are here, to shape our future."

"Good words, and yes, if I intended to deliver the book I would never have come to notify you, My Lord. I only warn you to be more wary of House Stark, no one would want anything to happen to your shipments of gold."

"You can rest easy, Lord Baelish. These gold stores will continue to do well under my care. I only hope you can leave someone you trust at Gulltown Customs, so we can continue to keep our customs reduction deal."

"Oh, I will, and I suppose we can expect the same deal with the gold headed for King's Landing, once you take office."

"Of course, Lord Baelish, and who knows. You would be handsomely rewarded if you were to convince the king to leave the minting process to us. To save his majesty some work of course."

"It won't be easy, but perhaps my words can persuade His Majesty," Baelish finished, and left the place; his footsteps could barely be heard, but Wolfgang could still distinguish that fine feet were heading out of his office.

Alone now, Wolfgang massaged his temples; he was unsure whether to go through with the deal with Kingslanding as well. If Robert Baratheon found out he was being swindled directly, things could get ugly for him, just as they would for Baelish in the current scenario. This would cause Wolfgang to lose his leverage with Littlefinger, and the two would be equal accomplices, with neither over the other. That didn't sit well with Lord Dustin, but he needed the money.

'To think I have yet to meet with the Lannisters' was what went through his head, and he could only massage his forehead more intensely. The day of his name day would be a very hard day.