The Following Morning.
Ser Axel Arryn. Lieutenant of the Golden Company.
When Strickland, after we had already struck our deal, decided to tack on one more condition, I very nearly killed him. Harry was lucky it turned out to be a trivial thing, one that cost nothing, otherwise there would have been an unfortunate accident.
I had been eting with Laplashe, one of my n who had agreed to serve as a front in exchange for a certain sum. Friends would be too strong a word for what we were. Business partners who respected one another was closer to the truth. Laplashe himself was the younger son of a prosperous Myrish rchant, which ant he understood the city from the inside. He helped find my way through the tangled web of Myr's laws, traditions, and customs.
There were many reasons sellswords never bought the kinds of businesses they so clearly needed. First among them was the opposition of the city rulers, who had no desire to see unreliable ard forces putting down roots on their territory. Second, the craftsn had grown rich on contracts from various companies, and if a company as large as the Golden Company stopped buying from them, the blow to their purses would be considerable. Third, the sellswords themselves had no appetite for investnt. Fate was an uncertain thing. At any mont, they might find themselves enemies of the very city where their enterprises stood, and if that happened, those enterprises would be seized by one ans or another. These were only the main reasons. In truth, there were more.
Since I knew that for the next five years we would be fighting on Myr's side, a portion of the problems had resolved themselves. The rest could be dealt with through the right approach and the right amount of gold. Strickland was a sharp man, but greed had clouded his thinking. He believed I was doing all of this for prestige and a small bag of silver. Harry was wrong. I was doing it for influence, prestige, and a cartful of gold coins.
Brothels. There is a great deal of aning packed into that word. The most profitable businesses in the world are war and prostitution. War I was already in. Prostitution was where I intended to plant my next venture and grow wealthy from it. I was fortunate to be in Essos, where I could pursue whatever I pleased. In Westeros, running brothels would have been fatal to my reputation.
Once Strickland pushed my project through, he would receive a small share of the profits. He assud the profits would be modest and had not wanted to sour our relationship over a handful of gold coins. Harry was getting a negligible percentage, and he expected it to be perhaps five gold dragons a month. It would be thirty to forty, because I honor my agreents. When he learned the true scale of things, he would have no ans of revisiting our deal. The other captains would not allow it.
Why was I confident about the profits? Because I intended to put the company to full use. What do soldiers spend their gold on? Drink and a woman worth looking at. I could provide both, reliably and at a discount. The soldiers would spend their gold in my brothel. They would leave satisfied, and I would leave rich.
"Hey, Axel, there's a lad out here saying he's your squire," Morgan Sand said by way of greeting.
We had t during my ti being fostered in Dorne. He was twenty-four, a typical Dornishman, olive-skinned with straight dark hair. He had been one of those who answered my call. Morgan was sharp, reliable, good-humored, and cunning in the way only certain people are, though loyal with it. He had climbed quickly through the ranks of my detachnt and had soon beco my trusted man for matters of a... questionable nature.
"Send him in." The new squire had apparently arrived.
Into the tent walked a pleasant-looking boy of nine, with blue-tinted hair and, if you looked closely, violet eyes. He carried himself with confidence, though the nerves were plain enough beneath it. He approached my table and stood waiting for instruction. I saw no reason to make the boy suffer and asked simply:
"And what is your na?"
"I am Aegon Connington, son of Jon Connington," he said, watching my reaction with poorly concealed fear.
My thanks to Strickland for this particular gift.
"Waymar." I waited until he looked at . "Explain everything that's expected to my new squire."
"As you say, my lord."
"You may go." Once my squires had left, I turned my attention back to my guests. "Let us continue. Laplashe, what answer did the rryds give to our proposal?"
"They agreed, but with several conditions. They want… … …"
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