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The deal Bronn had made with Illyrio Mopatis allowed him to openly preach all over Pentos. He summoned more Septons from across the sea, and then more Angelic Knights who had finished their training at the Angel's Peak.
Slowly, his army swelled to ten thousand, of which most stayed on the ships, and nearly two hundred septons and septas roamed Pentos. A single large Sept and multiple smaller septs were erected, and officially, the prayers began. As usual, the poor were fed, and the broken homes were patched.
Bronn used his soldiers to make life hell for all the Red Priests in the city. He slowly purged them and barred more Red Priests from entering the city. He also forced them to stop preaching or holding rituals in the open. Bronn personally used 'curses' to kill the leadership of their temple.
In a single year, his hold on Pentos increased. In that year, other than savoring Lynesse nectar, she gave him a son of his own choosing, as he tailored the boy to his desire. He made him blonde, handsome more than any boy he'd created yet, wise, tall, strong, gifted in every way imaginable. Only the Septas knew the boy was his. To others, Lynesse came to him to seek refuge.
Preaching, healing, and a show of magic. Nearly three-fourths of the population accepted the faith of the seven, and the rest held a favorable view. It was a well-crafted opinion of the masses.
Then at last, Bronn shifted his focus to other magisters and also the prince. They were no fools, and some of them saw the changing tides. They accepted the Faith of the Seven. Others who didn't, received 'curses' and died. The prince, who had no power to begin with, died as well, alongside his maid of the fields and the maid of the seas.
Already, at Bronn's advice, Illyrio had moved the hearts of the masses by spending coin by the boatload. Building homes, renovating entire streets, feeding the poor, and freeing the slaves. Since Pentos was aiming to be somewhat similar to Westeros, it had to be that way in terms of society.
By the year's end, there was enough support to make Illyrio the new Prince of Pentos, a true prince, for he had Bronn's support, and also the Angelic Knights. In name, a contingent of six thousand Angelic Knights was going to remain in Pentos forever, to protect the Sept and septons. But in truth, it was to keep Illyrio on his seat, and also on his toes, in case he had any devious thoughts.
After Pentos, Bronn set his eyes on Volantis, not Myr, Tyrosh, or Lys. Those three were busy fighting each other, and they were weak. The true challenge awaiting him in eastern Essos was Volantis, the most populous of the Free Cities.
Moreover, Volantis had hundreds of galleys in its fleet. It also had land power, though the soldiers were slaves. It still meant that a direct military conflict wasn't possible.
"Lord Septon, Volantis has also hired the Golden Company to protect itself. But their gates remain open for us. It is hard to understand what they plan."
Bronn listened to Ser Florent patiently while they sailed towards Volantis from Pentos. He had already sent a few men to gather information about the temple of the Lord of Light and its High Priest. To understand if he had somehow gained control over the triarchs.
"They fear the Seven," Bronn muttered. "After Pentos, they fear drowning in the Seven's light."
"How should we proceed, Lord Septon? If they choose to attack, we won't—"
"We'll follow the Faith." Bronn interrupted Ser Hasty. "We shall go and preach. Let the ships anchor in the distance. I shall only take a small number of men into the city."
With that, Bronn stood up and walked out of the cabin. On the deck of the large ship, there were all the septas basking under the warm sun. He noticed Daenerys standing with Unella, listening to her.
Viserys was nowhere to be seen as he had fallen 'sick' and had to remain in Pentos.
Should be dead by now.
That was the best way to kill Viserys. To fade away like a memory. Daenerys wouldn't even know about her brother's death for a few months. By then, she'd have no choice but to accept it as it was.
Yet, Bronn didn't walk over to them. As much as he enjoyed truly teaching Daenerys magic, she was still very weak.
No, he eyed the guest on board who had asked to ride to Volantis with him. A woman of tall frame with a red lacquer wooden mask, dressed in a long, hooded robe of red. She stood alone at the edge of the deck, overlooking the sea and Pentos they left behind.
"Quaithe, was it? A shadowbinder all the way from Asshai. Gods be good, why seek me?"
Bronn was alert around her. He didn't know what type of magic shadowbinding was, but it must be something. With the discovery of Daenerys' magic, he had no doubt now that there were others out there.
"I did not set out from Asshai in search of you. Yet roads have their own will, and they carried me to this place. The whisper of your magic has flown ahead of you, heard by every ear that weighs such things. From the Warlocks of Qarth to the shadowbinders of Asshai."
"I know that," Bronn said. "Why else would fire demon worshippers want me dead. By the Seven, what do you want? That matters."
"I seek your magic, not to hold it, not to master it, but to shape a path where paths fail. I have walked in search of truths that might aid me, and found none that could. Every magic has been undone. Yours remains. I ask your aid to reach Stygai, the City of the Night. I have tried, so have dozens of others. Only I came alive."
Stygai?
Bronn frowned, trying to remember what he knew about it. He'd studied Essos plenty over the past few years for his conquest. Asshai was far away, but the thing about Essos was that the farther east you went, the more mystical things got. Stygai was one such place, located in a river valley northeast of Asshai. The rumors say the city was haunted.
"And why should I do that?" he asked back. "I serve the Seven, not the call of adventure. I walk among those who draw breath, not among places the dead still cling to."
"The road bends toward triumph in Volantis. The city will bow to you, and the Red Temple with it. What you carry within you, your sorcery and your faith, will open the gates to victory. Ser Harry Strickland of the Golden Company will stand before you when you arrive. From that meeting, all else will become clear."
"..."
Bronn frowned. "And you know that, because…?"
"It is not the Red Priests only who see prophecies and futures in flames. In Asshai, many arts are practiced, and many paths of knowing."
"Yet nothing changes. The Seven heard you, as they heard me. What you know is my fate, not a gift you bear. So what do I gain by walking Stygai with you?"
All of a sudden, Quaithe turned to face him directly. Bronn noticed a reflection in her watery eyes. He was truly curious what she looked like underneath that mask. She was as tall as he already, and if she was also a beauty. Well, he liked admiring beautiful things, even if he couldn't have them.
"I will give you Asshai."
Huh?
As if she sensed his confusion, Quaithe continued.
"The one who walks the city of ruined corpses. The one who casts down the twisted things of darkness and the dark cloaks that devour souls will earn the undying trust of the Asshai'i. You, Bronn the Blessed, shall hold Asshai so long as you conquer death upon the Ash."
For some reason, Bronn felt a shudder the moment he heard 'dark cloaks that devour souls'. It felt as if a memory was trying to surface in his thoughts. Already, he knew that the man whose memories he had, and also magic, came from a world of dark creatures. There were plenty of spells to deal with them.
But the reaction from souls devouring dark cloaks felt different. More fearful than anything else.
"Dark cloaks… tell me about them."
Quaithe must have noticed his reaction. "You know it?"
"Aye, and I pray the Seven prove me wrong."
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