57

Chapter 57: Ch 48 Bigger Things

Chapter Text

"How much longer now, Jon?" Sam asked in a whining tone while trying to shift to a more comfortable position on his horse, but it seemed fruitless as he had already used every single part of his bum, and nothing was left unbruised.

He very much regretted their decision to take the kingsroad with horses instead of going the sea route through the white knife which would not only have been more comfortable but would have also taken them straight to White Harbor and be a lot faster.

"Not long now... We'll reach the city after we cross over that hill," Jon replied without taking his eyes off the book in his hands while pointing towards the hill in the distance. He had been reading that book since the start of their trip so Sam was already used to the scene of him riding his horse without looking at where they were going even though he was the one who was supposed to be leading and the one who knew the way.

The book in Jon's hand was a rare one with only a few copies in circulation around the world. It was called 'The Origins of the Iron Bank and Bravoos' and was written by Archmaester Matthar. He had borrowed it from the Citadel during his last trip there(though they probably had no idea that it was currently being borrowed).

This book not only detailed how one of the wealthiest banks in the world came to be but also shed some light on the interworking of the bank and how the Sealord and the bank's Secret Council controlled not only Bravoos but various other economies all over the known world, by lending their money to outsiders such as archons, tirachs, and the lords of Seven kingdoms.

While it was a very superficial book and didn't go into depth towards the real details, it was still a surprisingly good read if one wanted to get an idea of how the Bank operated.

According to the book, Iron Bank was founded by sixteen men and seven women who hid valuables in an abandoned iron mine shortly after the foundation of Bravoos.

As the mine's chambers filled with treasures, a bank was formed to utilize the wealth. Each of the twenty-three founders who had a key to these great subterranean vaults(previously the abandoned Iron mine), and their descendants—now numbering at least one thousand—are known as "keyholders". Among these Keyholders, who also have shares in the bank, the most powerful ones were elected to sit on the secret councils and have a voice in selecting who leads them.

"What is that?" Sam suddenly asked just as they crossed the hill— bringing Jon out of the book.

Jon looked up to see the only city in the North in all its beauty and magnificence. With houses built from whitewashed stone, and steeply pitched roofs of dark grey slate, it really looked quite pretty under the bright sun but that wasn't what Sam was pointing towards instead it was the long line of stables that had propped up outside the city that had gathered his curiosity.

"It seems they really used it, Huh..." Jon murmured to himself while looking at the novel spectacle in front of him.

He had sent a letter to Lord Manderly some months ago on a whim about the idea that the Citadel had come up with to reduce the population of horses inside the city but he didn't think that the Northern Lord would be so quick to apply it.

It was almost mid-day, the peak time for traffic to enter the city, but unlike the usual mixture of humans on foot and humans on animals, the main entrance of the city was mostly filled with traffic on foot as most of the people were choosing to leave their horses outside the city in the care of stables.

"Why are there so many stables outside the city?" Sam asked again when he didn't immediately get an answer, "And why are the people leaving their horses here instead of taking them inside?"

"I think... I think it's because the city is trying a new system," Jon said in an admiring voice— impressed with Lord Manderly's quick-wittedness, "It's a system where anyone who wants to enter on the back of a horse needs to pay an additional tax,"

"But Why? What could they possibly achieve by doing this?" Sam asked in a bewildered tone. He knew that a rich house like the Manderly's wouldn't go to so much trouble for this little amount of money.

"Mostly because of the shit," Jon said with a shrug.

King's Landing was not the only city in this world which had the shit problem— in fact, almost every single big city in this world had that problem. While the capital was unique in the sense that it had more human shit than animal ones, the rest of the cities still struggled with the shit of animals running like water through the streets no matter how many times they clean it.

And while the smell didn't propagate much here in White Harbor due to the cold, it was still quite a huge problem since animals were the only mode of transport in this world.

On average a horse would produce about 15 to 35 pounds of manure per day, so anyone can imagine the sheer scale of the problem. The manure on the streets also presented huge attractions to flies who would then go on to propagate diseases like typhoid fever.

His previous world also grappled with this problem during the 18th century. People at that time called it the 'Great Horse Manure Crisis of 1894' and the newspaper at that time predicted... "In 50 years, every street in London will be buried under nine feet of manure.". Of course, nothing like that happened and the situation was resolved because of motor vehicles... but until something like that happened in this world this was the best solution to this problem.

"But won't the people be unhappy with it?" Sam asked in a confused tone, because as far as he knew there was nothing the smallfolks dreaded more than taxes.

"Not at all. After all, it's not a mandatory tax," Jon said with a shrug as they slowly approached the city, "If they don't want to pay the tax then they can easily use those free-of-cost stables outside the city provided by the House Manderly. So in a way, they are saving money since now they wouldn't have to pay the innkeepers in the city to take care of their horses."

"So only the wealthy people will actually be affected by it." Sam said while nodding with an understanding expression, "Well, that is...Unless you're someone who needs to be somewhere very urgent, then you would have no choice but to pay the tax..."

"Hmm... for now at least," Jon said with a pondering expression.

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"Tell me, What do you think about a Starkhorse Carriage that is available for people to rent so that they travel inside the city at a fair price..."

"Starkhorse Carriage? What is that?"

"You know about the regular ones, right?" Jon asked and after Sam nodded he continued, "Well, just add another wheel on the rear side and a sitting platform on top of it. It would be a carriage that could easily carry two people all over the city for cheap and could be manually cycled by a single person," he said thinking about the tuk-tuk carriages that were quite famous in the Asian countries in his previous life.

"Jon! JON! HERE!"

They were just about to join the long line to enter the city when they heard the shouts of someone calling Jon. Both of them looked over to an almost empty side entrance, in front of which stood a middle-aged man, waving and beckoning them over.

"Let's go!" Jon said to Sam with a smile and both of them rode towards the familiar Merchant, whom Jon hadn't seen for a long time.

"Uncle Sam, How have you been?" Jon asked with a huge grin as he dismounted from Peggy and hugged the man who was almost as tall as him.

"I've been more than fine, Jon," the Merchant replied while warmly patting Jon's shoulder.

"Ah! Sam meet Uncle Sam. He is Becca's father and the one in charge of all our ships on the East side," Jon said while introducing the merchant, "And this is a good friend that I picked up during my Adventures in the Reach, and coincidently he is also Sam."

"Good Day, little Sam," the Merchant nodded and shook the shy boy's hand in greeting before saying, "I am sure we'll have plenty of time to get to know each other in the future but at the moment we need to hurry along..." he said while leading them towards the small entrance.

"Why?" Jon asked as they passed through the door where the guards seemed to be familiar with the Merchant and let them in after a cursory glance at them.

"It's Lord Manderly..." Big Sam explained with a sigh while leading them briskly through the crowded streets filled with people from all over the North, "I accidentally let it slip that you were expected to arrive before noon and he immediately insisted on throwing a small feast for you."

"Ah! That man is too fond of his feasts," Jon said while shaking his head with a rueful smile.

Big Sam took a discreet look behind him to see that little Sam had fallen back while leading the horses and was out of their earshot before turning back and asking Jon in a low voice, "So what did you decide Jon?"

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"Lord Manderly was too happy and excited for this to be just a social visit. A huge amount of money and profits have to be involved for a man of his stature to even quirk his lips," The merchant looked at Jon with undisguised curiosity in his eyes and asked, "So tell me, What did you decide to do with our Bravossi problem and why exactly is the lord so giddy to meet you?"

"Ah! You found out about that huh..." Jon said with a sheepish expression, "But nothing's done yet so I don't want to—" he stopped mid-way through the excuses with a wry smile when he saw the impatient inquisitiveness in big Sam's eyes, "Ah! Fine! If you must know then—I am... planning to sell it all."

"Huh? What do you mean sell it all?"

"It is exactly what it sounds like. I am going to give all rights to sell the Starkhorses on the East side of Westeros to Lord Manderly..." Jon explained with a shrug, "For a hefty price, of course. He can then sell as many of them as he wants to any city he can access, we'll no longer have anything to do with it."

From the very beginning, Jon had only started this to get some seed money and now that he had more than enough of that, he didn't have to constrict the sales anymore so that he was the only seller.

Unlike the West Coast where the North had no sea trade with the rest of Westeros, there was already an established house here with trade routes to all cities. The Manderlys weren't known as the richest in the North for nothing, they had many connections, merchants, shops etc in every small and big city on this side.

Lord Manderly was known as someone who had his finger in many different pies, so Jon knew that making use of his connections was essential to boost this business beyond its current limits.

Plus it had the added benefit of placing the Manderly's as somewhat of a buffer between Jon and those two shadows in Kings Landing.

Jon didn't want anything to do with those two until he was sure that he would be able to deal with them. In addition, while he knew that the world was better off with the likes of Petyr Baelish dead, he wasn't too sure if Varys was an enemy or not at the moment.

And it wasn't like it was easy to get rid of them sneakily—No, in fact, both of them were among the top ten hardest people to kill in this Westeros, right along with the likes of, Tywin Lannister, Olenna Tyrell, Lord Bolton etc. After all, they lived right next to their worst enemies every single— they would already be dead if they weren't constantly vigilant with threats to their lives.

Poison—the most obvious solution that comes to anyone's mind when thinking about assassinating someone—was completely useless against them.

They never ate anything that wasn't exclusively prepared by their own man, they almost always kept guards by their sides, and they had the weaknesses of every single person under their employ firmly in their grasp so that no one could even think of betraying them.

And even if Jon was lucky enough and managed to kill one of them— they would immediately realise that there was a new player in the game and it would spook the one left fiercely. And god forbid if one of them managed to escape somehow and went into hiding, it would be all over. Because even Jon with all his wargs at his disposal would find it incredibly hard to find someone like them with all their resources if they were adamant about hiding.

So it was better for them to be in the open and for him to be in the shadows until it was time.

"B-But that's just—" Merchant Sam's bewildered voice brought Jon back to the present, "Why would you willingly give up such a money-making business? And w-what about all of our investments and all the ships that we bought and all the sailors that we've recruited until now—Are we just going to let them go? Just like that—"

"Calm down!" Jon firmly told the hyperventilating Merchant, "No one's going anywhere, and while it may seem like it, this is not a spur-of-the-moment decision. In fact, it was always going to end this way... All the things we've been doing until now have been just to prepare for this moment—for bigger things,"

"Bigger things?"

"Yes, Much bigger things!" Jon said with a gleam of excitement in his eyes, "After all, that is why our next destination is Bravoos..."

...

Bravoos was a city well known for its mysterious foggy mornings... but today it was different. Today there were no signs of clouds in the sky and the sun rose quite early in the morning, it was one of those fine mornings which promised a clear, crisp and bright day.

Even the laziest of hawkers and merchants opened their shops early that day to earn money from people who came out to enjoy the rare fine morning. No one wanted to miss out on earning easy money, especially in Bravoss where money speaks louder than anywhere else. So the streets were already filled to the brim with people peddling their goods and customers moving from one shop to another trying to find the cheapest prices.

But the doors of the Iron Bank remained closed as the people in charge didn't care whether it was sunny or if it was raining, they would only open up when it was time to open and not a minute sooner even if a king was the one waiting at the door—Ehm—Unless there was a lot of money involved, of course.

People from all over the known world were standing in a line outside the main entrance hoping to be the first one in. Some were here to withdraw gold from their accounts, others to deposit but most of the early ones were here for only one thing... to try and see if the mightiest bank in the world would lend them some gold.

But things weren't quite so hectic on the other side; at the rear entrance which was exclusively for the use of bank employees. There was usually no penalty here even if the employees arrived a bit late, the only thing that mattered in this institute was if they were capable enough to bring in the gold, it didn't matter if they worked for an hour or from dawn to dusk, only results mattered here.

Two lazy-looking guards stood guard at the entrance waiting for the time when the traffic would start coming. They carried spears with them but they were mostly there for the show as it was almost impossible for someone to even think to challenge the Iron Bank in Bravoos.

"Were you out drinking all night again, Ray?" one of the guards asked the other with a fed-up expression when he saw his friend yawn for the fifth time even though their shift had only just started.

"Huh? Oh yeah! hehe... But don't worry, I wasn't there just for the drinks," he said patting his chest confidently before a lewd smile suddenly appeared on his face, "I also spent the night with that famous new girl at the docks..."

"That's even worse!"

"What can I do? She's just too pretty... I can't control myself," Ray replied with a dramatic and helpless sigh.

"Aren't you tired of it by now? Don't you think it's time for you to think of your future and start saving—"

"Argh! A married man like you can never understand the agony of people like me," Ray said while looking resentfully at the family man.

"Sigh! Just don't fall asleep on me will you," the guard replied while rolling his eyes, "Because I am not covering for you again..."

"What! Why not—"

"Shhh!!" the guard suddenly interrupted his friend's whining with a panicked expression and immediately straightened up with a sharp look on his face. Ray wasn't confused for more than a moment and immediately followed his friend's example and he too stood at attention with his eyes staring straight ahead.

Footsteps echoed as a man wearing a drab coat of brown and grey (clothes usually worn by people higher up in the bank,) appeared walking towards the entrance with a pompous air about him.

The thing which had actually sent the guard panicking was the decorative key worn around the man's neck. It wasn't just any normal key; it was a piece which denoted that the man was— someone they couldn't afford to offend—a mighty keyholder.

This key could only be worn by the descendants of the twenty-three founders of the Bank. And not every descendant (numbered in thousands) had the right to it. Only the most qualified ones were given this honour and there was a fierce fight every time one was up for grabs. But it was quite unusual for the man to wear it as it was supposed to be a ceremonial piece— only to be worn on formal occasions.

It was only when the man came close enough did the guards saw the face of the man wearing the key and their eyes immediately widened in surprise as they recognised who it was.

"Good work, Lads," The man said with a smirk, patting the guards condescendingly before he entered the premises while humming a merry tune.

Only after the footsteps had completely disappeared did both of them take a sigh of relief and slouch back towards the wall.

"Did you see the key?" Ray whispered, his eyes still a little wide.

"How could I miss it? The man was practically puffing his chest and shoving it in our faces." his friend replied with a snort.

"How the fuck did a fool like that Daario suddenly become a key holder." Ray asked while scratching his head, "I know that it hasn't been that long since the shit joined the bank..."

"Didn't you know about that recent election for one of the positions on the secret council?"

"Huh? Which one—Oh! Was it for the position of that Oldie who died while fucking in the brothel?"

"Yes, that one exactly. His uncle was lucky enough to snatch that seat and since he doesn't have any male heirs... he probably got the key as default of being the only candidate."

"Damn! What luck!" Ray cursed with an envious look on his face, "Ugh! I need a drink..."

"You're incorrigible..." his friend while shaking his head with a wry smile.

...

Daario Zalyne entered the room with a satisfied smirk on his face. He was quite delighted with all the envious glances that had been thrown his way, it felt... it felt like he was finally getting the respect he deserved after all this time.

He took a glance across the room towards the open window before going towards his desk. But just as he was about to take a seat, he suddenly frowned. He wiped his finger on the table and saw a very thin layer of dust.

"Maybe I should get a new assistant..." he murmured to himself. Now that he was finally moving up the ladder, he couldn't have this level of incompetence following him. "Ah! I can't let this ruin my mood," he said before shaking his head to forget about it.

After all, his uncle had finally won the much-coveted seat on the secret council and one of the perks that came with that position was that his uncle was now completely in charge of the Cheguy Port, the biggest and most important port of Bravoos.

Excluding the various small wharves and landing for fishermen and ferries, there were three main ports in Bravoos: the Chequy Port, the Purple Harbor and the Ragman's Harbor, also called the Outer Harbor.

The Purple Harbor was an exclusive that only allowed Bravoosi ships while the Ragman's Harbor, which his uncle was previously in charge of, was located in the west of the city and was the port where all the foreign ships docked, it was poorer, rougher and a lot dirtier than the other two and he hated working there.

But no more...

As one of the key factors in helping his uncle achieve this goal, he was obviously going along with him. And the best part was that his uncle had promised him that if the Cheguy Port came under him, he wouldn't forget about his contributions and would place him in charge of the nearby Arsenal—one of the most prestigious positions in Bravoos.

It was a just reward for all the efforts he had spent in trying to squeeze as much as he could from the regulars of the previous port to show a massive increase in revenue under his uncle. Of course, one of the major contributors to that amount was that small Merchant fleet from the North—his ever-increasing tax on those Starkhorses had been a great help.

Usually, he wouldn't have been able to unilaterally increase taxes like that without any backlash but he had chosen his targets very carefully. He only collected outrageous taxes like this from the softest of targets; Targets like those savages from the North, because he knew that they would never even be able to come up with the notion of complaining to the relevant departments. And even if they did, it would only work if they went to their competitors otherwise he knew how to make their complaints disappear.

After clearing his desk, he started to through the list of people whom he had to meet today— when he came across a name which made him stop.

"I thought I told them... No one from the North," he grumbled with irritation while crossing the name of one Jon Snow, North from the list. He knew that the man probably wanted to meet him to discuss the issue of tax but he didn't feel like dealing with it today.

Initially, he had decided to raise the tax just until the election and was going to remove the excess after his uncle won them, but now...

'It feels like such a waste...' Darrio thought with a sly smile.

...

It happened just around noon...

Darrio was just about to get up for lunch after finishing up with some work when there was a sudden knock on the door.

He looked up with a frown on his face as he had expressly told his assistant not to send anyone close to lunch hours.

He was just about to open his mouth to deny entrance to whoever was on the other when the door suddenly opened without his consent. His mouth closed shut as he bewilderedly looked at the handsome young man who nonchalantly entered the room.

"Who are you?" he immediately asked with a glare while trying to project a deep authoritative tone he had seen his uncle use.

The man didn't answer him immediately— instead, he slowly closed the door and looked around the room as if searching for something all the while ignoring his glare—and that pricked his pride more than anything.

He immediately raised his hand to pull the rope beside him that would summon the guards to his room when the man suddenly turned to him after having finally finished his inspection of the room, "I am Jon Snow." he introduced himself with an easy smile

"Jon Snow?" It took a while for Daario to remember where he had heard that "From the North?" he asked and let go of the rope when the man nodded. He didn't want any unwanted attention now that he knew who he was, "How did you get in here?"

"Oh! I have my ways..." Jon Snow answered with a shrug.

"Whatever ways you have, you can keep to yourself, Jon Snow." he snorted while swearing that he would definitely fire the assistant who had probably taken the bribe to let him in, "I know why you're here... but I am very busy at the moment and can't—"

Jon abruptly turned away from Darrio and started walking towards the window while ignoring whatever Darrios was saying. He went towards the window to pull up a small pouch from outside.

"What are you doing?" Darrio asked in an alarmed voice as he looked at the man retrieve a pouch that he hadn't seen before that moment. His hand instinctively started going towards the rope when the man abruptly swirled.

Darrio flinched as he felt a whoosh of air and a thunk. He slowly opened his eyes and involuntarily gulped when he looked down to see that the knife that Jon Snow had thrown just inches away from his hand finger.

"Let's talk, Shall we?"