Chapter 38 — Illyrio Mopatis
We reached the harbor of Pentos without much trouble. The ship docked and we disembarked. After a few quiet inquiries among the port workers and merchants we got the names of various magisters. It did not take long to find the address of the one we were looking for. After some time, we reached his residence.
As expected, entry was not allowed.
The guards crossed their spears and refused to let us pass or even send word inside. So I decided to do something and spoke in a low voice.
"Tell the magister," I said quietly, "that someone has come on the recommendation of the Spider."
The guard frowned at that. It sounded like a joke to him or perhaps a strange code. He hesitated and could not decide if I was being serious.
"This is not a joke," I said. "He will understand. We cannot say anything else or explain it to you. Report to him what I said."
The guard looked at me, then at our group. No one was smiling.
After a moment, he nodded slowly.
"I will tell the master," he said. "But if this is a trick or jest, you will not leave this place alive."
He signaled to the other guards to keep watch over us and went inside.
Soon he returned. But his face carried confusion. Still he was thankful that he had reported the people to the magister, otherwise it would have been not good outcome for him.
"The magister has allowed you to enter," he said.
We were led inside.
The halls were wide and richly decorated, filled with carpets, statues, and the smell of oils and spices. We were taken into a meeting chamber.
There, Illyrio Mopatis was already present.
Illyrio Mopatis was pacing slowly from one side of the room to the other. His heavy robes moved with each step, and his face showed both expectation and unease.
He was thinking that no message had reached him from the usual 'little birds' of his friend. He was not informed of the arrival of any person or a group beforehand. It was very unusual and he had suspicion that the people were lying.
Still the mention of a "spider" had been enough. So he had chosen to listen for a few reasons. In the first hand, if it was true, and they were sent to him by his friend, then it may be an important matter. On the other hand, if it was false, then he needed to know how they got here and who was behind them.
We soon met Illyrio Mopatis in his meeting chamber. He received us with a wide, practiced smile, like a merchant ready to welcome any deal that walked through his doors.
"Welcome, my friends," he said warmly.
"Well met, Magister," I replied. "I am Manny. These are my companions. And I believe you may recognize these two." I gestured toward the children.
Illyrio's eyes had already been on them from the moment we entered. He studied them carefully, his smile softening into curiosity.
"Forgive me," he said, his tone smooth, "but I do not think I have had the pleasure. Who might they be?"
I let a small pause settle. "You may not have met them. But your friend, the spider, has. And I believe you already have plans that involve them."
His expression shifted, just slightly.
"These," I continued, "are the Targaryen siblings."
He looked at them again, more closely now. "Are you certain?" he asked. "These are the last children of House Targaryen?"
Viserys stiffened at once, his pride rising as expected.
"Do you take me for a fraud?" he snapped. "I am Viserys of House Targaryen, the Third of His Name, the rightful king of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men."
The words came sharp and practiced, full of heat. The behaviour was not what one would expect from a Nobles' heir, much less the heir of a King. At that moment, it seemed that the Mad King was speaking.
Illyrio raised his hands gently, still smiling. "Your Grace, forgive me. I meant no insult. There are many in Essos with the look of old Valyria. Silver hair, purple eyes. Many of them claim to have dragon blood."
He inclined his head slightly, more respectful now.
"But such fire in your words… yes, that I have heard of before."
Illyrio's smile grew wider, smooth and practiced.
"As you say, Your Grace," he said, bowing his head slightly toward Viserys Targaryen. "I am most honored to meet you."
Then his gaze shifted to Daenerys Targaryen, and his expression softened, almost kindly.
"And you, Princess," he said gently, "it brings me great comfort to see you safe and in good health."
Viserys accepted the words with a proud nod, his chin raised, as if such respect was his right. But there was something beneath Illyrio's tone that did not match his words. It was too smooth, too careful. Everyone in the room could feel it.
Even Daenerys seemed to notice that the man's words were different from his intentions. She gave a small, polite but strained smile.
After a few moments of light talk, Illyrio clasped his hands together and looked at me.
"Now tell me," he said, his voice calm and curious, "what brings you to my humble home? I do not recall my friend sending word that guests would be arriving."
"Because he does not know" I replied simply. "This was not planned long before. It was a decision made in some haste."
Illyrio's eyes narrowed just a little, though his smile remained.
"I see," he said. "Then your visit must be important."
"It is," I answered. "We have come for something you possess. Something that may not be of much use to you but is useful to us."
Illyrio tilted his head, studying me more carefully now. The warmth in his face did not fade, but his eyes became sharper.
"Is that so?" he said softly. "Then you must tell me what it is that you seek from me, good sir?"
I looked toward my companions and said, "Lord Magister, I would like to speak with you alone. Some things are not meant for other ears."
Illyrio Mopatis studied me for a moment, then nodded. "Very well. Follow me."
I was led into a smaller side chamber. It was quiet, with only a table and a few chairs. We sat across from each other.
"So," Illyrio said calmly, "speak your mind Lord Manny."
I met his eyes. "The matter is simple, Lord Magister. I know things about you, and about your friend, Varys. Things you would rather keep hidden. Things about your plans."
Illyrio gave a soft chuckle, pretending to be confused. "I do not understand. We have no such plans. My friend serves as Master of Whisperers. He serves the king and his kingdom honestly."
"The realm," I repeated. "That is where his true loyalty lies, right? Not to any king, not to the throne, but to the realm itself."
For a brief moment, Illyrio's eyes changed. The smile remained, but something sharper appeared behind it. This was not something he expected me, or anyone else, to know.
"Who are you?" he asked quietly. "I think my friend would have mentioned you, if you mattered."
"It does not matter who I am," I said. "What matters is what you are hiding."
He waved a hand lightly. "We hide nothing. He serves the king and the realm. It is the same."
"Is it?" I said. "Then what about the child you are raising in secret? Hidden far from all eyes. While these two children are used to draw the attention of the King and others, your true King grows elsewhere."
This time, Illyrio's face changed completely. Shock, fear, and dread appeared all at once.
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End of Chapter 38 — Illyrio Mopatis