The Last Player

POV: Tycho Nestoris

Personal travelling carriage of the Director General, Barrowton.

A few minutes after, a little prince from the North bestowed on the Lady and Lord of Barrow Hall an eloquent thanks...

The escort of mercenaries in the pay of the new Director General of the Iron Bank, Tycho Nestoris, had just been politely directed to the prepared halls. Only Tycho, his two personal assistants, and his loyal captain of the armed escort, Berand, had been granted an invitation to stay in Barrow Hall. But to his pleasant surprise, Lady Barbrey entrusted his former pupil trainee Ronan with the task of assistant guide.

"Congratulations on your well-deserved appointment, Director General Tycho." Said the now-man-of-fact boy soon after the coachman resumed his route. The Braavosian ordered his followers to leave him alone with Ronan.

"Deserved is too gracious a word from you, my boy. If fate had not favoured me with excellent opportunities, you could not have bestowed such kindness on me." Replied Tycho with a friendly grin.

"About three years ago, a very able and wise accountant at the Iron Bank taught me that 'opportunity' is an event that occurs when luck meets talent." Ronan.

Tycho laughed and replied, "Skillful and elegant shot, my boy.

My dear Ronan, you don't know how much I regret the lack of you by my side. I will never stop repeating it...

You, my boy, would climb the ranks of the Iron Bank in a very few years, breaking all the records of our institution, if you ever choose to return to Braavos."

These were not vain words. Tycho was one of the few who knew the actual value of that mathematical marvel. And that was not all his virtue... Iron memory, creativity, intuition, loyalty, adamantine industriousness, and impressive adaptability to complex situations, if to all this was also added eagerness for power and inexorability, now he would stand a palpable First World Ruler.

A scarce and precious gem...

"I am honoured by your flattery and offer, Master Tycho-" the Braavosi interrupted Ronan with a wave of his hand.

"Please, Ronan. Just Tycho. You have long since overtaken this old mind in the process of rusting."

"I may well have approached your podium, Master Warden, but the experience between us is an arduous and long goal to reach, under which I will graciously decline your offer."

'I forgot the virtue, 'humility' to the list...' thought Tycho surrenderingly.

"As I was saying... I am honoured by your flattery and your offer, 'master,' but... very arduous debts to repay await settlement here in the North, the land of my ancestors, my family, and my creditors and doers of priceless opportunities." Concluded Ronan.

"A true Braavosian accounting officer would never run away from unpaid debts. So, ordinarily, all I can do is surrender, express my sincerest respect, and wish you well, my boy..." Ronan bowed his head in Braavosi style to convey his heartfelt thanks.

"Having said that, it is time for us gentlemen to serve our institutions, Chief Treasury Delegate and Head of Trade Ronan." Tycho was already aware of Ronan's assumed role in Torrhen's Square. However, the Braavos representative had yet to understand how much, but more importantly, 'why' he was meddling in Barrowton's affairs...

"Valar Dohaeris, General Manager Tycho Nestoris... Shall we start with Glass?" And already, one answer dispelled one of his doubts.

'So it wasn't just rumoured... The Heir of Torrhen's Square has indeed already chosen his betrothed. If Bloody Snow permitted Ronan to show the cards, it means that soon Duncan Tallhart will announce the news to the whole world...' deduced Tycho for the sake of logic.

"That sounds like a perfect start to me. I will be frank and devoid of futile spin, the Iron Bank is nothing short of eager to obtain a Monopoly in all Essos territories, from Braavos to Qarth, Sea of Summer and Sea of Shivers, on all current and future products of House Mormont, with a binding contract of not less than twenty years. And we desire priority on deliveries over the Southern Lords, including the Crown..." Tycho took the lead on the first diatribe between gentleman negotiators.

"The Iron Bank is asking a lot... These are quite difficult demands to meet. Also, the negotiation was on 'Glass' and not on 'All Products' of Bear Island and Barrowton..." Tycho nodded with praise at the first remarkable parade of the attentive trade manager.

"What does the Titan offer for the Monopoly on Glass-Mormont products? Bear Island requires an equal value to weigh the scales." Asked Ronan defensively.

"Thirty percent more than the price offered to the Northern Lords, the guarantee, responsibility and burden on ship and land transportation from White Port or Widow's Port onward, forgiveness for Barrowton of the 1,064,000 gold dragons owed to the Bank, and...the settling of all possible 'tribulations' of Myr against House Mormont." So proposed Tycho in the voice of a skilled merchant expounding the bargain of the century.

"Barrowton's debt is '957,600' gold dragons, Director. The first instalment of 10 percent well weighed, on time and properly accounted for, arrived in Braavos two days ago." So specified the Torrhen's Square accountant in a simple tone of clarification.

"Oops... My mistake. I am mortified. Simple delays on notifications, Chief Executive. Praise to your responsive communication network." Tycho was not in good faith, but he had not lied either. Assume and Know were words with different meanings...

"Bear Island has already struck an excellent deal with the Crown. Prince Stannis Baratheon has been in favour of accepting a 75% surcharge... And I am more than confident that all the other Houses of the South would also be willing to pay similar if not higher.

The quality of Glass, and of all products related to it, is far higher than that of Myr...

Every Archon, Prince, Magisters, Sage and Grand Master from Braavos down to Qarth would be willing to go as high as 400% of the base price. Not to mention the 'Lords of the Sea' inclined to such illicit activities as 'Piracy'... Salladhor Saan has already delivered an offer of 100 gold coins apiece for whatever number of scopes House Mormont was willing to sell him...

Evidently, 'The Prince of the Narrow Sea' is quite confident that he can make some decent profit in the black market. And here, Director Nestoris, we're only talking about the Spyglasses...

More than forty-three thousand current ship captains throughout Essos willing to do anything to obtain a vital tool for the safety of their voyages. And many new captains and ships in the future will seek the same instruments...

The 'binoculars' and 'telescopes,' on the other hand ... well, any watchman on a lookout tower, merchant, hunter, starry sky researcher, explorer or spy would be 'Very Interested' in Mormont products." So the young merchant began his counteroffensive without hesitation in targeting vital points...

"I admit that the hypotheses just argued may have a kernel of truth..." Tycho conceded again. The ruthless assault was not yet over.

"The 'assumption of all responsibility on goods' offer is much appreciated, but as for the true Iron Bank's intercession with Myr... Director, Bear Island and 'the Entire North' are well prepared to welcome any foreigner located a thousand miles away in a line.

I doubt that Myr would be willing to let 'representative demonstrations of their discontent' cross... or rather, no known mercenary company would be crazy enough to dock on the Eastern shores of the North. Karstarks, Boltons, Manderlys, Lockes and Flint of Widow's Watch would not be so inclined to grant passage, I fear.

The only realistic, viable route left to attempt this "demonstration of discontent" would be the circumnavigation of the West Coast. More than three thousand miles of the coastal road to cover, assuming Sunspear, Arbor, Oldtown, Lannisport, or Lordsport willingly welcome what will be left of Myr's armed fleet desperate for supplies...

And even should the foreign crew manage to curry favour with the Drowned God, avoiding unwanted confrontations, storms, bonanzas, and possible problems of scurvy and malnutrition, in the Ice Bay, a hundred warships, in excellent condition, with a fresh, rested and bloodthirsty crew would be ready to bestow a frosty welcome on the foreigners from the South...

Therefore, honourable Director Nestoris and my esteemed teacher, I hope you can forgive me if I dare to judge the Iron Bank's offer of Protection somewhat flimsy..." Unfortunately, his former pupil had hit on all the weaknesses of the first 'seemingly unmissable' proposal...

Ronan was right. The territorial location of the Glass production site gave House Mormont a tremendous advantage. Myr would realistically have a better chance of attempting a raid on King's Landing than hitting Bear Island. Not even the Golden Company would have accepted such a suicidal assignment...

How would the Myrensi have reached House Mormont if not by the two routes just mentioned?

Passing into the territories under the protection of the Night's Watch? Coming into conflict with the order in black meant declaring war on the Seven Kingdoms.

In the frozen lands of the Wildlings?

Even assuming half the forces had managed to travel more than two hundred miles into the Haunted Forest, with what ships would Myr's mercenaries attack the Mormont Fleet, ready to sink any makeshift barge and raft?

The offer of protection was essentially worthless. No Titan spy sent to Bear Island had returned or sent any sign of life from several moons...

House Mormont was already equipped with the same Anti-Spy defence as Torrhen's Square or House Dustin.

Only the services of the House of Black and White could threaten the members of House Mormont in any way...

"I guess my shrewd and brilliant former disciple-treasurer has a counterproposal to lavish on the Iron Bank." Said Tycho bestowing a warm smile.

"Indeed, a possible counterproposal does exist, Director General...

Lord Jorah Mormont would like to give his beloved bride a wedding gift that is very, very 'difficult' and very 'rare' to obtain. I dare say even 'highly improbable'...

The future lord of Barrowton would like to give 'peace' and 'tranquillity' to his beloved Lady Barbrey... A woman has faced so much pain, sorrow and grief during her young life.

The gratitude of a soon-to-be husband would be immense and boundless towards any 'True Friend' who was willing to help him in such a 'Titanic Undertaking'..."

Tycho's curiosity had been enraptured by this preface. The words 'Titanic Undertaking' could only mean that not even Oldtown and Carcosa would be able to bestow such a gift and that only the honourable Iron Bank could succeed...

"I wonder 'How' the Titan of Braavos can attempt to earn the desirable appellation of 'True Friend' of Lord Jorah Mormont?" Asked the Director politely.

"Well, here in the North ', The Family' meaning all individuals who share their name or blood, is as sacred as ever according to the customs of the First Men.

Lord Jorah would greatly wish that his beloved Barbrey would never again have to face the pain of losing her loved one...

As you quoted a few moments ago, Warden Tycho, 'Myr' is a possible threat to all of Barbrey's poor family members. If an enemy cannot attack the opponent's mind or body, he will target the heart... And Jorah and Lady Barbrey's heart lies in their love for all their family members.

Rumours, and I emphasize the word 'Rumors,' have reached Lord Jorah's ears. According to which there would exist the possibility for the Honorable Iron Bank to... 'recommend' the most distinguished priests of the Ancient and respected House of Black and White not to accept names to offer as gifts to the Many-Faced God..."

The veil dropped, and the Ice Giant, intent on plundering the Titan's domains, stepped forward...

Tycho could not conceal his face of astonishment...

'How? How in the name of the Many-Faced God, Bloody Snow managed to extract this most secret information from The Watcher?!' shrieked a voice in Tycho's head.

'No, it is not possible that The Watcher broke his word to the Former Guardian of Love...' Tycho discarded that hypothesis.

Only the High Priest of the Many-Faced Gods, 'The Gentle Man,' the Lord of the Shroud, and the thirteen members of the Titan High Council were aware of that secret information before The Watcher's debut into the Known World.

The Gentle Man had bestowed that secret upon his successor in the role of the Watcher of Love.

Unless...

'The Watcher appointed Duncan Tallhart his Heir?!?!' was the only plausible guess. That bloodthirsty demon must have implied the hypothesis to Ronan by reprehensible tricks and wordplay so as not to break the oath...

Bloody Snow, heir to the role of Guardian of Love... It was a catastrophe, a massive catastrophe...

But then why would the Watcher lower the veil of protection over his favourite pupil?

What would have happened if Balon Greyjoy had succeeded in the task entrusted to him by the Iron Bank?

Was the Spider Queen behind all that immense loss of client depositors in the last quarter? Was it payback to the Titan's experiment for trying to harm a protégé of the Guardian of Love?

But then why would the House of Black and White accept the gift of Bloody Snow's name at that 'much' more affordable price?

A storm of questions and hypothetical dangerous past risks swept through Tycho's mind forcing him into a religious silence to voice all possibilities.

Ronan did not disturb the thoughtful and alarmed Director General.

****

A few minutes later, less than a mile from Barrow Hall.

"Well, my boy, I cannot guarantee anything in this matter... But, as you have rightly surmised, what you ask is highly unlikely, if not 'impossible' to achieve...

I can already assure you that even 'asking' the High Priest of the Many-Faced God about 'All' members of Lady Barbrey's blood and the name is unreasonable and impossible.

Before engaging in this 'Titanic Attempt,' the Iron Bank wonders how 'Lord Jorah' would reciprocate this gesture of friendship?" Tycho asked after weighing all the pros and cons.

It was, in fact, possible for the Titan to obtain the requested favour. However, it would never agree in terms of numbers to accept such obscenity...

There were only twenty-six names that the Many-Faced God would never accept as gifts, and only four of them were still living.

Two of these were The Watcher and the Lord of the Shroud--and only the latter had been recommended by the Iron Bank. The only entity, other than the Chief Priest of the Temple, who could bestow such a request...

But in the history of the World, The Watcher was the only one still alive who had earned that right for services rendered to the Many-Faced God...

If a name was offered but could not be accepted, the Faceless Men would claim the applicant's name.

[A name for a name...]

And if a madman signed his sentence of certain death by requesting a Titan-protected name from the House of Black and White, it would be the Iron Bank's burden to pay 'the price.'

Currently, only the Lord of the Shroud, the most potent weapon in Braavos, enjoyed that right in perpetuity...

So, yes, it was possible but equally inconvenient to bestow such a gift on Lord Jorah for all those names. What was certain was that the Titan could not allow Bloody Snow to enjoy such a benefit...

Only the gods knew how many people in the Known World wished to see Duncan Tallhart dead and buried, and Tycho Nestoris and the remaining twelve council members were among them...

"Well, since The Iron Bank would show a sincere show of help, Lord Jorah would be willing in turn to help the honourable and Ancient Institution of Braavos currently in the grip of 'unforeseen difficulties'..." Torrhen's Square knew-the Tallharts knew where those 41,837,400 gold coins had gone and why they had been withdrawn.

Losing that deposit amount for any other known lending institution would have meant the Broken Bank...

For the most powerful institution in the World, that blow was a 'modest spanking,' but still a very painful spanking...

Getting that glass trade deal would have healed several losses in the coming quarters.

"Monopoly of all past, present and future products on Glass-Mormont throughout Central Essos, excluding IB and the Summer Islands,

an honest 80% markup on the basic selling price,

the warranty and liability offered on transportation and goods, kindly offered by you above,

the forgiveness of only half of Barrowton's debt, or 478,800 gold dragons,

and the 'suggestion' of refusal of the 'gift' for all who bear the name Mormont, Ryswell or Bolton, so long as the terms of the contract are fulfilled...

Ah ... I almost forgot, and we shall have the honour and privilege of enjoying the presence of The Watcher as witness and guarantor of this gentleman's agreement, which, if reached, will be duly sealed, well-sealed and duly countersigned."

Tycho carefully scrutinized the determined gaze of Ronan, 'The Iron Apprentice.' The boy was ready to fight tooth and nail...

It was going to be a 'long gentleman's fight,' where both sides would war tenaciously to snatch every single coin, percentage, ground nail, and name from the other's hands...

"I see-boy, I'm afraid time is a tyrant to us in this pleasant negotiation that will follow. Might I suggest-" Ronan anticipated him.

"I had already considered that possibility, Master Tycho. But, hoping not to have offended you, I took the liberty of suggesting to the coachman that we take a little detour to the best restaurant in Barrowton. There we will have a private room to enjoy refreshments and tranquillity to discuss our business calmly. Master Zick and my esteemed scribal associates are already there waiting for us..."

End POV.

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POV: The Lady of Barrowton

Barrow Hall Entrance.

About four hours after a long, on both sides unsatisfactory, troubled, and arduously fought negotiation between gentlemen took place...

The last banquet before the ceremony had long since ended. The final dish of the evening had been served, the last cup filled, and the last song played.

As expected, poor Dacey Mormont, in hopeful anticipation of the arrival of a brave Green Knight intent on saving her from her grim fate, was harassed by dozens of young noble scions from Westeros and Essos desperate to curry favour with the Maiden-Knight to gain access to the rich coffers of the North.

To deny or deny that truth was now meaningless. Barbrey and William tried countless times to be blessed with the joy of a child...Six moons of failure gave credence to Maester Ellyn's hypothesis. Something in Lady Ryswell's womb was irreparably damaged during her abortion...

Whether it was due to bad luck or because of one too many ingredients put into the Moon Tea by the 'faithful maester' in the service of House Ryswell, she would soon find out.

Barbrey and Jorah would never have a son...William's last uncles and Great Uncles passed away without leaving behind sons or daughters. So Dacey was and, in all likelihood, would remain the only true heir to Bear Island and the Barrowlands...

But there was no longer any point in thinking about what had been taken from her. Another path had been offered to her by the Old Gods, a path other than dark and lonely revenge, and Barbrey would walk it with her new family and never look back.

"You are late." So promulgated Barbrey in a reproachful tone to the boy with straight, white hair like enamelled steel, with green eyes and silvery veins, five feet and at least six inches tall, clad from ankle to neck with a lustrous, unique, artfully chiselled, freshly forged, and priceless plate armour made of Steel-Mott.

The new formula of tempered steel was discovered by Grand Master Craftsman Tobho Mott himself. The metal's distinct rippled patterns, not unlike those of Damascus or Valyrian steel, blended homogeneously with one another, creating strange runic spiral patterns...

Strips of silk and small portions of red leather could be glimpsed from the thin, uncoated seams of the hardest and most durable steel ever forged at Gauntlgrym or any other non-Valyrian forge in the Known World.

The engravings of the new House Tallhart banner stood out in the centre of the breastplate. Three grey Weirwood Trees with red foliage are arranged in a triangle on a snow-white background and joined in the centre by branches that shape a crimson-red snowflake...

Ser Duncan Tallhart bowed, holding his left hand resting on the hilt of Red Rain. The Karstark leather belt carried a sword, a pair of throwing knives and a unicorn horn hilt dagger. Probably another new blade forged by Mott...

"I beg your pardon, Lady Barbrey. Far be it from me to blame the similar delay on my personal master armourer, but ... well, let's just say the art takes its time." Replied the Green Knight.

"What events worthy of being chiselled into history have I not had a chance to witness, my lady?" Bloody Snow asked with fervent curiosity.

"Has the new song of Master Abel the Bard not yet reached your ears?" Barbrey.

"New song?! No... don't tell me... Did I miss your debut?

Ser Meryn or Ser Boros? No, no, I'd rather not spoil the surprise. I will find out when I listen to the song. Unless our would-be future champion needs immediate treatment... How bad is he?" Bloody Snow.

"Quite a lot... But Maester Ellen is confident that 'the knight' will make it through this night as well." Barbrey.

"Mmm... Well, then there's no hurry. But instead, tell me, how did it go for our promising General Manager?" Asked the boy with impelling curiosity.

"I would say pretty excellently. Although Ronan took it as a personal defeat...

The boy wrested from the Braavosian a five-year deal with a 49% surcharge, saving Barrowton enough gold to enable us to pay back more than 9/10 of this glitzy event, omitted from the Monopoly all the Summer Isles, and.... mmm... Freed from pesky threats, all members of House Mormont and House Bolton?

He would not or 'could not' specify to me in detail the extent of the threat in question." Barbrey summed up.

"Really?! All the members? Jeor Mormont included?" Duncan asked in amazement.

"All members who bear or will bear the name of the Mormonts and Boltons in the next five years starting tomorrow, according to him.

In return for all this, the honourable Director General requested the help of 'Lord Jorah Mormont' to obtain information about the mysterious gold escape...Ronan assured him that within five days, we would be able to provide him with clear and detailed information." Barbrey replied, triggering a smile for both of them.

"Ahaha! That boy is a true prodigy...Praise be to Seraphinus for causing him to be born in the lands of the Tallharts...

I wouldn't even know how to reward him. A song...mmm no..." Mumbled the boy to himself and then asked in a flash of concern:

"Speaking of the Bard! You didn't scare the poor guy away from me, did you? Please tell me he's still free and untouched here in Barrowton..."

"He's still in Barrowton strumming and squandering some of the gold he's earned on the road, dressing up in new outfits, changing inns, and milking some information by buying drinks at half the taverns in town.

He is not yet alarmed, but he is very cautious and perceptive of any possible threat.

A more invisible and elusive target than Ser Haymitch, according to my men." Barbrey.

"Oh oh, he is, he certainly is. Phew...good. Go ahead and give him the irrelevant information he's looking for, but don't make it too easy for him, or he'll notice. After I find him, he'll definitely want to run for the hills. If you can, prepare a credible caravan for him to Waterdeep. My uncle has already prepared safe passage in anticipation of his arrival." Duncan.

Barbrey nodded as if the matter was of little consequence.

"Your Lady has collapsed from exhaustion after a ruthless courtship of half the bachelors in Westeros. But ... I believe there is someone still wandering the halls and walls of Barrow Hall who seems eager to meet you in person." Teased the Lady.

"Even that much? I hope there aren't too many better-looking, funnier, and more ruthless than me... And is that someone a he or a she?" Bloody Snow.

"That's for you to find out. Why should I spoil the surprise for you?

I recommend ... 'prudence, my lord.'" The boy seemed to fall for Barbrey's little deception.

"So, is everyone on roll call?" Bloody Snow.

"Everyone. Only you were missing." The Frosty Spice Queen.

"Good...

Are you tired, my Lady?

Would you have the chance to do me one last favour?" The Green Knight.

"Not at all. I doubt I'll get any sleep tonight.

What do you need, Ser?" Lady Barbrey.

"Well, since the ballroom is empty, if any musicians were still standing, I would like to receive the honour and privilege of being remembered by history as the last bachelor man in this world to attempt to seduce Lady Barbrey Dustin with a dance." The Knight offered the palm of his bare hand after slipping off his glove.

Tiny wet gleams bathed the eyes of the Widow of Barrowton. The Demon Puppeteer wanted to make her cry on purpose again.

This Grand Spectacle had begun with a simple dance between a Bear and a Maiden Fair four years ago in Torrhen's Square...

Barbrey forcefully held back her tears and acted like a true Lady by accepting the offered hand.

"The honour shall be mine, Ser.

...Let the dancing begin."

End Chapter.