Armed force is always more persuasive than any messenger. Cold steel and spear-points can shatter every unrealistic fantasy and rebel scheme.
Thank the gods Volantis is the richest of the Free Cities without question.
Even though the Braavosi love to boast about their Iron Bank's mountains of gold and silver, their Sea Lord and magistrates have no right to freely spend the bank's or the depositors' wealth.
When it comes to liquid coin that can actually be spent, the First Daughter has no rival among the heirs of Valyria.
"Money is tight," Viserys said, thinking aloud as he searched for solutions, "but at least we carry no foreign debt."
"True," Renigar agreed with a nod. "The old-blood nobles have always refused to borrow from the Three Whores, Pentos, or—gods forbid—Braavos. Frankly, I doubt those cities would lend to us anyway… Standing aside and laughing at another man's misery is far too tempting for them."
"Some of them may not be laughing anymore," Dorya cut in suddenly. "That Dothraki khas you let slip away, Viserys, has already crossed the Forest of Qohor and entered the Dothraki Sea."
"So my old acquaintance is riding home victorious?"
"Exactly. That khalasar—smarter than the rest of its kind—has declared itself a new khalasar. Myr is paying for its shortsightedness." Weymond's mouth curved in a cold smile. "They never saw it coming, couldn't assemble a proper army in time. Three times that khas smashed their sellswords and militia, stripped the countryside bare, and finally forced them to pay tribute. No one like you or my uncle Varyon was there to stop them. They say the new khal carried off twenty thousand slaves—many master craftsmen—and it took two full days just to haul the loot away from Qohor's walls."
"Lys's brothels and governor's palace must be celebrating right now," Renigar sneered. "Not that there's much difference between the two. Their favorite pastime—besides mocking an enemy's misfortune—is kicking a fallen ally while he's down."
Of the Three Whores, only Myr stands on the mainland. It cannot abandon its colonies and villages and retreat behind the sea.
Lys has always avoided long wars, especially land campaigns. It keeps only a handful of controlled sellsword companies, no real militia, and relies on privateers and pirates to stop landings.
Once an enemy slips past the fleet and smashes the defenses, that island city becomes easy meat.
But those problems were not the priority right now.
"Back to the coin," Viserys said bluntly. "What exactly can our current gold actually buy?"
"The situation isn't hopeless," Renigar answered. "Mercenary wages are fully settled. Our trading fleet survived the war untouched. This morning my ships from Qarth docked, loaded with spices, silk, and jewels. Losing only two vessels is a miracle from the gods. Word of your great victory has already spread everywhere. I expect merchants will soon swarm in with goods—and with gold—to buy the mountains of spoils we're sitting on, including the huge number of living slaves. Some taken by the Dothraki, others the nomads we captured ourselves."
"Will there be enough for Valar?"
"We can squeeze out gold for the struggling colonies. It might even help revive trade…" Weymond clearly had zero interest in finance or commerce; only talk of war, chariot races, or women could rouse him.
"Trade may soon face fresh trouble," Menyx said, his face grave. "Truth is, I've heard the worst rumors from across the Narrow Sea."
"More whore politics from the Three Daughters?"
"No, Weymond. This time it's the Sunset Kingdoms who've lost their minds." The elephant-party man sighed and looked straight at Viserys. "The… Usurper, Robert Baratheon, flew into a rage the moment he learned you hold Volantis. He's already expelled our envoys from King's Landing. His fury is so great that the entire Seven Kingdoms and every Free City is whispering about war."
"War? With those Andal savages?" Dorya almost laughed at the absurdity. "Please. We just finished crushing the Dothraki in the east. The western barbarians are nothing to fear. Let them come—perfect chance for Viserys to reclaim everything that belongs to House Targaryen."
He waved a careless hand, nearly spitting on the priceless carpet. "Besides, they're a long way off."
"Distance is great, but their armies are not to be underestimated," Renigar shot back. "What if they ally with the whores? Maybe we shouldn't be spending so freely?"
"Menyx, I knew you were a coward, but I didn't think you'd fold this easily." Weymond stared at the tight-lipped merchant and burst out laughing. "What can they possibly do to us? Westeros was founded by Valyrian blood. Without that backbone their fragile unity will shatter at the first real war. Frankly, I welcome it. Gives me a chance to hunt those Westerosi natives. The timing couldn't be better."
Viserys had expected Robert's rage. The reports had reached him weeks ago.
He had never imagined the Usurper would actually commit to war.
Why the blind fury?
Raising armies, crossing the Narrow Sea, marching through the Disputed Lands straight at Volantis…
The only explanation the prince and Triarch could find was that Robert truly loved that Stark woman.
"Weymond, mind your tongue."
Viserys cut off the rising argument.
"Sorry," Dorya muttered sullenly.
"Menyx," Viserys continued, "we solve problems one step at a time. Robert and his lords are far away. Our colonists are right here.
And… if war does come, we will need their absolute loyalty.
No need to panic early. The Usurper is no longer young. Years of whoring and drinking have ruined his body.
He must raise an army in a kingdom full of traitors, where his own fleet commander could turn on him at any moment and his vassals cannot be trusted.
Reliable sources say his treasury is in far worse shape than ours."
Both co-rulers knew that when it came to military strategy, Viserys far outranked them.
More importantly, he was saying exactly what they wanted to hear, so they listened with full attention.
"Even if he does march, he still has to cross the Stepstones. Myr has been gutted by the Dothraki, Lys and Tyrosh are busy carving up the Disputed Lands, and neither has time for some Sunset Kingdom king's adventure… especially a king drowning in debt. And if Robert actually reaches our walls, we can still fight. I know every inch of Volantis's land, and we command a battle-hardened, loyal army."
"So you're saying we have nothing to fear?" Renigar's face relaxed into a smile. Like every merchant, he dreaded war above all else.
"I'm saying we can deal with other matters without losing sleep over that distant stag… Compared to him, I'm far more worried about the whores and the threat they pose." Viserys changed direction smoothly. "This morning I received word that Lys's envoys have already approached the Golden Company. Tyrosh has summoned every pirate captain in the Stepstones."
The ancient blood-feud between Volantis and the Three Whores—whom those behind the Black Wall simply called "the whores"—was soaked in blood, betrayal, and fragile truces.
From old-blood nobles to Triarchs, every scrap of Valyrian inheritance, Qarth tariffs, or trade rights had been fought over for centuries. Conflict erupted almost yearly, full-scale war every decade.
The last great war between Volantis and the whores had ended exactly ten years ago…
A new one now was very badly timed.
"I think they're only flexing to intimidate us," Weymond said, snapping out of his reverie. "Remember, Viserys, we still haven't received a single envoy from any of them.
In my view they're trying to line up allies first, then present us with terms.
Refuse?
War.
Otherwise they wouldn't be courting the Golden Company. We simply don't know the outcome of those talks yet."
"Even Lys's old madams should understand our fleet is intact," Menyx said with open contempt. "We have a first-rate army and an unmatched commander. The whores have always been cowards; the last few months won't have made them brave."
"Then what do you think they want?"
"They've set their eyes on easier prey—Myr." Renigar voiced his guess. "Myr's army is scattered, its countryside burned, its best craftsmen dragged off as slaves by the Dothraki. The sellsword companies were either absorbed by us, destroyed, or already bought by Lys and Tyrosh. That city-state is half-dead. The whores are circling like vultures ready to feast."
Viserys made the final decision at once.
"Menyx, your guess is reasonable… but we must prepare for the worst.
Send orders: our eyes inside the Three Whores are to gather every scrap of intelligence on the whores' troop movements and intended targets.
At the same time, strengthen border outposts and raise alert levels."
He raised one finger. "Furthermore, from this day forward, until the whores formally recognize our new Triarchy, no Volantene ship may trade in their ports. Violators lose all property.
Of course, publicly we'll call it a trade-safety measure.
Let our merchants sail to Dorne, Pentos, Braavos, Slaver's Bay—even the Summer Isles—rather than risk their ships being seized to swell the enemy fleet."
"And this also forces them to declare themselves—cooperate or bleed…" Dorya caught on instantly, eyes lighting with excitement. "Now the real show begins!"
"Speaking of shows…" Renigar paused. "Have the temples of Vhagar and Meraxes already delivered the traditional gifts for your ascension?"
"They have—and they were extremely generous." Viserys smiled. "So the celebration of my elevation to Triarch will be held with full ancient ceremony. Now… bring in the next petitioner."
The meeting on the Throne of Power dragged on for many more hours.