Spinning Gilded Webs
Fourteenth Day of the Eighth Month 293 AC
"I assure you, if I were here to give away a blade and ask for a slain dragon I would have taken my chances with the seating at the Red Keep.
Bravery is something your King is rather famous for after all." The word is practically an insult upon your lips, one Baelish seems to find just as entertaining as you had hoped from his brief but you think genuine chuckle. Thus you continue to be the voice of temptation, not that you imagine the man before you needs much encouragement: "All I would ask you for is to give him counsel, as it is befitting of your position. As you said yourself the Lords of these lands are loathe to take care of the matter of coin, and all too easily something can slip between the cracks without the
dutiful aid of men like us."
"You speak so sweetly of it I might almost fear for my position, magister," the Mockingbird offers an off-handed retort, to show he is not so entranced with the possibility that he would not look for treachery in your words. There might even be a genuine compliment to be found there, that he respects you or rather the mask you wear enough to be wary.
"A war takes coin after all, and the coffers of a realm often bleed harder than all the soldiers in the field put together, even if victory is achieved. It is the manner of procurement of those funds that I am here about, since we could gain a lot from aligning our purposes there," you take up the thread of your proposal unhurriedly. "Kings are always in need of coin, are they not? Thus hinting that the royal coffers might not be a full as they appear would only add urgency to the demand which you can then quickly satiate. Imposing heavy tariffs on the ever more plentiful grain and other agricultural products from Essos would hamper the Dragon King in no small measure, a fact which will I suspect be as music to your king's ear."
"The king may be as blind as a stag in rut, but the Hand is not so great a fool as to discount the peril of food shortages," Baelish replies as he pours two cups of Arbor Gold, straight for you and watered for him. If you pointed the discrepancy out he would doubtless reply with an appeal to Ghiscari custom. "If there is one thing above all else that can move the smallfolk to rebel it is the specter of famine," he finishes, his chilled gaze showing no more dismay over the prospect than any other inconvenience.
"But that is where you can present the council with the knowledge of the self-same magics that have made the Dragon's fields so rich, is it not?" you ask with a smile.
Baelish freezes at your words: "Where did you hear such a thing?"
"Your western lords are not the most tight-lipped, as you have no doubt used many a time to your advantage," you deflect, using his contempt for the highborn to steer him away from inconvenient questions.
He snorts in agreement, but still the suspicion does not entirely fade from his eyes, so you continue quickly: "The specter of food shortages can be sold to the king or the Hand as a way to shore up royal power, even as the lords fearful of that very thing would be all the more eager to take the lore you have to offer."
"And should famine become less specter and more flesh will you then have grain delivered from Slaver's Bay past the Dragon's stranglehold on the Stepstones straits?" he asks, making no attempt to hide the bite of sarcasm in his words.
"My patrons are not without contacts in the Disputed Lands who would be willing to sell for a reasonable price, including a small fee to make the authorities look elsewhere," you explain calmly, not rising to the taunt.
"At last an offer of more than words," he sighs. "You would not mind sharing those names with me then, as show of trust of course?"
"Trust is a rope that must be knotted at both ends, my lord," you remind him in the same placid tone. "It would be folly of me to give you the names of my associates based only upon empty air."
Is he planning to betray the 'Ghiscari', you wonder,
to sell the names of the treacherous magisters to you in preparation for the conquest? You would sooner sleep with a live scorpion under your pillow every night than use this man in any position of power, but he would have no way of knowing that.
"Then let us say I call for a more modest increase in tariffs to test the waters. Would that be enough of a show of good faith on my part to be offered that list?" he presses.
Inwardly you make a note to have the Inquisition be very careful about Littlerfinger's agents and to recruit some of the more friendly magisters into the scheme to better sell it while outwardly you feign nervousness, shuffling in your seat and licking your lips. "Part of the list with the rest to be provided once the full punishing tariffs have been settled."
"And once the first grain ship has sailed into Slaver's Bay, yes?" Baelish smiles slyly. "Do not be so surprised, my lord. Though I am not as well traveled as some I know well that those lands are not fertile even in usual times, much less when you have need of more grain and supplies to feed an army such as could challenge a dragon."
"You are wise, lord Baelish," you answer, the compliment more truthful than you would like it to be. Talking to him feels uncomfortably like holding a razor blade between your fingers. Were it not for the advantages that sorcery and experience of far more perilous bargains bring you might just have had to kill him here and now. "Your wisdom will be much appreciated in the east should the day come when Westeros is no longer hospitable to you."
As you had hoped the promise of an escape moves him as little else can.
He would probably fit in all too well in the cesspit of Slaver's Bay besides...
He raises a cup and toasts enthusiastically: "To success my, lord Naegor." The clink of cups might as well be the bell signaling his demise, making the wine all the sweeter for it.
What do you do next?
[] Head to Dorne to deliver Balerion and speak to Doran and Elia about Varys's worrisome knowledge
-[] Write in
[] Do a festival interview
-[] Write in
[] Write in
OOC: You have time for one more action before Malarys calls about Melisandre.
