Chapter 116: The Eight-Legged Spider

"Did you hear? Duke Tywin has returned to King's Landing."

"That war decided the fate of the Iron Throne. Even the coastal trade city-states were alarmed. How could I not know?"

Late at night.

In Westeros, at the capital city of the Seven Kingdoms, King's Landing—within the palace atop Aegon's High Hill, the Red Keep.

Deep beneath the Red Keep, within a dimly lit stone passage, the sound of voices echoed, and the flickering torchlight cast two twisted shadows upon the walls.

As the figures approached, the torchlight revealed one of them—a burly man wearing an iron helmet, gripping a tallow torch in his thick hand.

His companion was even more corpulent, his ten sausage-like fingers adorned with gem-studded rings—some of red gold, others of white silver, inlaid with rubies, sapphires, large diamonds, and tiger's eye with golden streaks. He looked every bit like an ostentatious, nouveau riche merchant.

Despite their bulk, both men moved with surprising agility. The helmeted man's footsteps were as silent as if gliding over ice, making no sound at all. The "merchant," with his forked yellow beard, was even more peculiar—keeping his entire weight on his heels, maintaining a Water Dancer's stealthy posture with every step.

Never judge a book by its cover—these two corpulent men were, in fact, highly skilled Water Dancers!

"If you already knew, why choose such a dangerous time to seek me out?" the helmeted man muttered in mild reproach. "Tyrion may have Tywin's wit, but Tywin is far more vigilant—cunning and ruthless.

"When facing him, I—King's Landing's spymaster—must be on high alert every second. Every word I say, every smallest gesture, must be flawless."

The helmeted man wore a worn-out leather tunic, stained with brown filth, covered by rusted iron armor. A dagger and a short sword hung from his waist.

His round face was marred with scars, his upper lip clean-shaven while a tuft of black hair adorned his lower lip. If not for the sharp glint that occasionally flashed in his eyes, anyone would mistake him for a down-and-out hedge knight from Flea Bottom.

The merchant sighed. "I didn't want to come to King's Landing at a time like this either. Stannis's fleet suffered heavy losses in the last battle, but he has since hired Salladhor Saan's fleet.

"That notorious pirate has declared himself the Lord of Blackwater Bay, practically sealing off the sea route from the Narrow Sea to King's Landing.

"To make matters worse, not a single ship remains in the waters near King's Landing. The sea is barren—my ships wouldn't dare approach the shore. I had no choice but to wait until midnight, when smugglers could ferry me to the Red Keep's rocky shore under the cover of darkness."

"Then why come at all?" the helmeted man asked, puzzled.

"The little queen from Slaver's Bay sent me a message," the merchant sighed again.

He had sighed an awful lot tonight.

The helmeted man's expression grew serious. "Did she send it directly, or did one of your men report information related to her?"

"She sent a letter aboard a merchant ship, addressed specifically to me."

"What did it say?"

The merchant hesitated but, unable to resist, sighed heavily once more. "She first thanked me for sending a fleet to retrieve her. Then she apologized for taking my cargo and using it to purchase the Unsullied.

"After the pleasantries, she assured me that the wealth lost due to her seizing my goods and ships would be repaid double in the future.

"Because Astapor stands alone, and Meereen and New Ghis frequently patrol the surrounding seas, she needs Blackbeard Groleo to command a navy.

"Yes, you heard that right—she's built a small navy. Ten or so merchant ships, two longships. Groleo has become the little queen's admiral, and those sailors—well, they now call themselves the Sea Knights of the Mother of Dragons.

"Sigh… The terrified girl who once sought refuge under my roof has died in the Dothraki Sea. She was reborn in blood and fire. The new Dragon Queen is a true Targaryen."

A long silence followed. Then, the helmeted man spoke. "I know all this. For the past six months, New Ghis, Qarth, and Meereen have been growing restless. They've even formed an 'Anti-Dragon Queen Coalition.' But fearing her ten thousand Unsullied, they've only dared to harass Astapor's coastline with their fleets.

"But she has dragons. Even though they're still young, they can slip through the night and burn sails and rigging to ash.

"After losing four ships this way, the coalition changed tactics. They no longer raid docks and coastal settlements but have instead completely blockaded Astapor's trade routes.

"But aside from the slave trade, what goods does Astapor have that anyone wants? The naval blockade means nothing to her."

If Daenerys were present, she could easily deduce the identities of these two men from their conversation. One was Illyrio Mopatis, the Magister of Pentos and an old "friend" of House Targaryen.

The other was none other than the spymaster of Westeros—the man known as the Eight-Legged Spider, Varys.

After Jorah Mormont's confession, Daenerys suspected Illyrio and Varys were connected.

Ser Barristan Selmy, however, had no doubts. He directly informed her that more than twenty years ago, Varys and Illyrio had been the closest of friends and business partners.

Varys, the master of whispers, worked in the shadows, gathering intelligence.

Illyrio, in turn, used his wealth and influence to find buyers for Varys's information while simultaneously building his own network of business connections.

Together, they made a name for themselves in Pentos—so much so that even King Aerys across the Narrow Sea had heard of them.

Now, as the two old friends conversed, they continued moving forward. Before long, they reached the end of the passage.

Climbing a narrow, spiraling staircase for what seemed like two stories, they emerged into an open space.

As the torchlight flickered, the shadows of massive, grotesque heads took shape in the darkness. The dim cave they entered was lined with towering stone pillars, between which lay row upon row of enormous, terrifying dragon skulls.

"I wonder when the little queen's three dragons will grow to be this size," Illyrio mused as he gazed up at the towering skull of Balerion the Black Dread, as large as a house.

"She explained in detail why she couldn't come to Pentos in her letter.

"First—her heart was too soft. She had originally planned to buy the Unsullied solely for protection, but after witnessing the misery of the slaves, she resolved to do what a true queen should—make the world a better place."

Varys twitched at the corner of his mouth, speechless. "As I recall, she received no royal education whatsoever. And she was raised among a horde of brutal horsemen. Where did this idealism come from?"

"Perhaps from that overly righteous Kingsguard of hers?" Illyrio chuckled. "Ser Barristan the Bold—he's like a legend come to life. No doubt he has influenced her far more than Mormont ever did."

"I somewhat regret sending that old man to find the little queen," Varys sighed.

"We originally thought that Barristan would help bolster her reputation. He is renowned throughout Westeros and could influence the choices of certain knights," Illyrio shrugged and continued, "Secondly, she wants to wait for the dragons to grow."

"Smart," Varys nodded in approval but then shook his head. "But we don't need another Aegon. She can be a Rhaenys, or she can be a Visenya, but she cannot be Aegon! If she controls all the dragons, then our plan—"

Varys' voice trailed off, his eyes flashing with an inexplicable glint, and his expression gradually darkened.

"Haha, don't worry, my friend," Illyrio patted the fat eunuch on the shoulder with a grin. "The dragon has three heads. A single rider can only control one dragon. That dragon queen is already asking me about Targaryen bastards!"

"She wants to..." Varys' expression softened as he pondered. "I haven't received any such news. It seems the little birds in Astapor have been slacking!"

"Perhaps she hasn't mentioned it to anyone else. Your little birds can't possibly hear every secret. She told me that she saw a prophecy in the House of the Undying—'the dragon has three heads.' Her dragons need three riders. If there are no bastards, she could also reach out to House Velaryon of Tidewater."

At this, Illyrio teased the eunuch, "Should we make a deal on that six-year-old boy?"

House Velaryon was to the Targaryens what House Mormont was to the Starks—loyal for a thousand years.

During the age of Valyria's dominance, the Velaryons were already vassals of House Targaryen.

When the Targaryens left Valyria for Dragonstone, the Velaryons followed, settling on Tidewater, an island next to Dragonstone.

During the early days of the dynasty, the two houses intermarried so frequently that they were practically one family.

In the time of the Dance of the Dragons, besides the Targaryens, the Velaryons were also granted the privilege of dragon-riding.

If the Velaryons knew that Daenerys had hatched dragons, they would likely abandon everything in Westeros and flock to her side—and she would undoubtedly welcome and make use of them.

But unfortunately, they didn't know. And even if they did, it wouldn't matter—they lacked the power to act.

In recent years, House Velaryon had declined severely. The previous Lord Velaryon had died in the "Battle of the Red Wall," orchestrated by Tyrion, leaving behind only a six-year-old heir and an adult bastard brother.

Varys' mind stirred. He suddenly realized why Illyrio had come to see him this time. After some contemplation, he asked, "You want Young Griff to go to Astapor ahead of schedule?"

A sharp glint flashed in Illyrio's pig-like eyes. He nodded with a smile. "That's exactly why I came to you. This kind of thing must be discussed in person for safety. What do you think?"

Varys frowned deeply, thrusting a torch into the sharp teeth of a dragon skull. He paced irritably across the vast stone hall.

The thick soles of his shoes scraped against the ground with an agitated sound. He had clearly lost the composed demeanor he always maintained—he was no longer in his Water Dancer state.

"The Dothraki king's sudden death, her miraculous hatching of dragons from those three worthless stones you sent her... Our plan has changed again and again. The third revision was for Young Griff to gradually approach her, get close to the dragons, and earn their favor before revealing his identity. Now, though I'm reluctant, it seems we're onto the fourth revision."

Illyrio sighed helplessly. "Astapor is not Pentos. Some things are out of my hands."

"Go on," the Spider said.

"Go on with what?"

"The third reason."

"Oh," Illyrio nodded. "She believes that winter is coming, and launching a conquest now would lead to massive civilian casualties. This reason aligns with our previous plan, though not out of concern for the people, but because war during winter carries enormous risks. Too many uncertainties. A sudden blizzard could wipe out an army of a hundred thousand."

"Sigh, the situation is changing too fast. The pace is no longer in our control," Varys said with extreme frustration.

The war between the lion and the wolf had always been a part of his carefully orchestrated plan, but it had happened too soon.

Years too soon.

So soon that he had to bring in Viserys and the Dothraki Khal to fill the gap. But those two fools not only failed to do so, they dug an even deeper pit instead.

"I have a feeling that, besides me, there's at least one more—perhaps even multiple—players moving in the shadows," the eunuch sighed.

"Dragons are not just a symbol of identity; they are a force that determines the course of history. No matter how great the upheaval, in the face of dragons, everything else is insignificant," Illyrio declared with conviction.

Varys nodded in agreement.

In the game of thrones, dragons could nullify all disadvantages and even flip the board entirely.

"We can let Young Griff go to her, but not yet," Varys gritted his teeth and muttered resentfully. "She has over ten thousand Unsullied—why hasn't she swept through Slaver's Bay yet?

Now, the anti-Dragon Queen coalition is recruiting mercenary companies on a large scale. Over the past six months, the Second Sons, the Company of the Rose, and the Stormcrows have all entered Yunkai.

If not for the Bloody Mummers being hired early by Duke Tywin, those bloodthirsty fools would have also ended up on the opposite side of the Dragon Queen."

(End of Chapter)

Want to read the chapters in Advance? Join my Patreon

https://patreon.com/Glimmer09