Chapter 22: The Interest on Iron, The Price of Pride

Chapter 22: The Interest on Iron, The Price of Pride

299 AC

The War of the Five Kings raged, a bloody, chaotic conflagration that consumed men and gold with equal, insatiable hunger. From his tranquil fortress of marble and seawater in Braavos, Damon presided over the chaos not as a participant, but as its chief executive officer. His study had transformed into the most sophisticated war room in the world. Maps of Westeros covered the walls, not just showing armies, but also detailing supply lines, commodity prices, and debt-to-asset ratios of the great houses. A constant stream of coded messages, delivered by his fleet of swift, dark-hulled ships, provided a flow of real-time data that would have been the envy of any spymaster.

He was in the middle of a quarterly review, a telepathic board meeting projected across the Narrow Sea. His consciousness was a silent observer in the governor's chamber of the Bank of Westeros, where Silas and the other directors reviewed the state of their "portfolio."

"King Robb Stark continues his campaign in the Westerlands," Silas reported, his voice now confident, imbued with the authority of the man whose thoughts he was unknowingly channeling. "His tactical victories are impressive, but they are a logistical drain on our northern grain reserves. We are seeing a 15% cost overrun."

Divert shipments from White Harbor down the coast to the Riverlands, Damon thought, a clear, cold directive that bloomed in Silas's mind. And begin purchasing surplus from the Vale. Lord Arryn's bannermen are not fighting; they are growing fat. We will buy their grain for a pittance and sell it to the King in the North at a premium. Frame it as 'securing the rebel supply chain'.

"King Renly's host in the Reach is another matter," a director from House Redwyne chimed in. "The Tyrells are funding the 'King of Summer' with our money, and his encampment is consuming resources at an alarming rate. The cost of wine for his knights alone is staggering."

Ensure the Tyrells' next loan repayment is secured with tangible assets, Damon instructed Silas. Not just future harvests, but deeds to their vineyards in the Arbor. Lord Mace may be a fool, but his mother, Olenna, is not. She will understand the prudence of securing her house's line of credit.

"And King Stannis?" Silas asked.

Stannis is frugal, but he is also desperate, Damon projected. He needs sellswords. Our contacts in Myr will offer his envoy, the Onion Knight, a discounted rate on a company of seasoned spearmen. The discount will be funded by us, a gesture of goodwill. In return, the bank will acquire the exclusive mining rights on Dragonstone for the next fifty years. He is sitting on a mountain of dragonglass that will one day be worth more than all the gold in Casterly Rock. It is a long-term investment in a future crisis.

The meeting continued, a masterclass in managing a continental war as a diversified portfolio of assets and liabilities. Damon was hedging every bet, profiting from every side, ensuring that no matter which king won, the true victor would be the bank that held their debts.

While managing the grand strategy, he also took the time to prune his rivals. Petyr Baelish's star was rising in King's Landing, his ability to conjure coin from chaos earning him the trust of the Queen Regent. Damon, observing him through his agents, decided it was time for a subtle lesson in scale.

Littlefinger was arranging a massive shipment of Myrish lace and Tyroshi dyes, goods whose prices had skyrocketed due to the war. He was using his usual smuggling partner, the Tyroshi merchant whose debts Damon now secretly owned. Two days before the shipment was due to arrive, a small fleet of pirates—flying no banner and in Damon's employ—intercepted the ships in the Stepstones. They did not sink them. They simply took the entire cargo and vanished.

Littlefinger was financially wounded, his reputation for reliability tarnished. He would blame the chaos of the war, never knowing that the pirates who stole his goods sold them at a massive profit in Volantis, with the proceeds funneled directly into one of Damon's corporate accounts. It was a simple, brutal message: the ladder of chaos had a glass ceiling, and Damon was the one standing on it.

He played a similar game with Varys. Through his double agent, Perrin, he fed the Spider a constant stream of curated intelligence. He delivered a detailed, and entirely fabricated, report of a secret agreement between the Lyseni magisters and the Archon of Tyrosh to fund Stannis, sending Varys's little birds on a frantic, expensive, and utterly fruitless chase across the Free Cities. While Varys was occupied with ghosts, Damon's real operations continued, unnoticed and unhindered.

His true focus, however, was on the inevitable clash between the Baratheon brothers. He knew from his foreknowledge that Renly, for all his swagger and his massive army, was a dead man. His death at Storm's End would be the next great catalyst of the war, a political vacuum that would send the powerful House Tyrell scrambling for a new alliance. Damon intended to be the one to offer it to them.

He had his agents in Renly's massive camp at Horn Hill, merchants supplying wine and grain, their eyes and ears open. They reported on the growing tension, on Renly's arrogance and Stannis's grim determination. When the news came that the brothers would parley at Storm's End, Damon put his own plan into motion.

He sent a coded message to his chief envoy with House Tyrell, a shrewd and silver-tongued man named Ser Addam. The instructions were precise, to be opened only upon confirmation of King Renly's death.

From his study, Damon 'watched' the events unfold. He felt the cold, religious fanaticism radiating from Stannis and the red priestess, Melisandre. He felt Renly's contemptuous pride. He knew that a shadow with the face of Stannis would be born that night.

At dawn, as the sun rose over the ancient fortress, Renly Baratheon died in his tent, a shadow's blade piercing his throat in front of two of his own Rainbow Guard. Chaos erupted. The King of Summer was dead.

Miles away, in the Tyrell encampment, Ser Addam broke the seal on Damon's instructions. While the other lords panicked and the Stormlords began to defect to Stannis, Addam requested an immediate, private audience with Lord Mace Tyrell and his sharp-witted mother, Lady Olenna.

While Littlefinger was still reacting to the news in King's Landing, Damon's agent was already making the pitch.

"My lords, my lady," Ser Addam said, his voice calm and steady amidst the hysteria. "A tragedy has occurred. The alliance with the Stormlands is broken. Lord Stannis is a grim fanatic who follows a foreign god. He offers you nothing. But the Iron Throne is still a force to be reckoned with, and King Joffrey is unwed."

He let that sink in. Lady Olenna's eyes, bright and intelligent as a bird's, narrowed.

"My patron, Lord Elyas, and the Bank of Westeros see an opportunity for a new, far more powerful alliance," Addam continued. "An alliance of the Rock and Highgarden. Of Lannister power and Tyrell wealth. An alliance that would be truly unbeatable. We are prepared to broker this new pact. We will finance the movement of your armies, we will secure Lord Tywin's agreement, and we will ensure that your beautiful daughter, the Lady Margaery, becomes the next Queen of the Seven Kingdoms."

He was offering them everything they wanted, a path to the throne delivered on a golden platter, at the very moment their own plans had turned to ash. He was outmaneuvering Littlefinger by days, using his foreknowledge to act with supernatural speed.

With the Tyrells now in his pocket, Damon turned his attention to the last remaining king he had yet to directly engage: Stannis Baratheon. He knew Stannis was grim, inflexible, and honorable in his own harsh way. But his chief advisor, the former smuggler Ser Davos Seaworth, was a man of uncommon sense and pragmatism. Davos was the key.

Damon arranged for one of his own ships, a fast trading galley from his Silent Serpent Line, to encounter a small, struggling fishing boat off the coast of Dragonstone. On board the boat was a single man, a 'shipwrecked sailor' who claimed to have escaped a pirate attack. This sailor was one of Damon's best agents.

Brought to Dragonstone, the sailor insisted he had vital information and would speak only to the King's most trusted man, Ser Davos. Davos, intrigued, granted him an audience.

"Ser," the agent said, his voice rough with a practiced seaman's accent. "The pirates who took my ship… they were bragging. They were hired by the Lannisters. They spoke of a great chain being forged in King's Landing, to be stretched across the mouth of the Blackwater Rush, to trap any fleet that tries to attack the city."

It was true, of course. Damon knew all about the chain. By delivering this vital intelligence to Davos, he was achieving several things at once. He was giving Stannis's forces a crucial warning that might save thousands of lives. He was establishing a channel to Davos, framing himself as a mysterious but powerful ally who believed in Stannis's legitimate claim. And, most cunningly, he was setting up the conditions for Tyrion Lannister's future triumph. Knowing about the chain would make Stannis's fleet overconfident, more likely to sail into the trap that Tyrion would spring with the wildfire.

As the sailor was leaving, he pressed a small, smooth stone into Davos's hand. "My master sends this," he whispered. "He is a man from Braavos who believes that debts should always be paid. He says to tell you that the Iron Throne owes a great debt to the realm, and he intends to be the one to collect."

He had made contact. He had established his persona: a powerful, neutral arbiter who believed in law and order. A man Davos could potentially trust.

The pieces were all in motion. Renly was dead. The Tyrell-Lannister alliance, brokered by him, was forming. Stannis, armed with a new army and new intelligence, was preparing his grand assault on King's Landing.

Damon stood before his map. He removed Renly's crowned stag marker from the board. He now had influence over all the remaining players. Joffrey, through the bank's loans and Cersei's patronage. Robb, through his supply lines. Stannis, through his new, secret channel to Davos. And the Tyrells, through the marriage alliance he himself had engineered.

He was no longer just financing the war. He was directing it. He was the invisible Hand, moving the great houses of Westeros like cyvasse pieces, setting them up for the final, bloody confrontation at King's Landing. A battle he was already preparing to profit from, no matter who emerged from the flames.