Beneath the Red Keep, deep within a hidden passage beneath Aegon’s Hill, Varys, clad in full camouflage, held a torch as he walked alongside his companion.

“Plans can never keep up with change,” the eunuch said. “Whether little Aegon is ready or not, the counterattack must begin soon.”

“In such a hurry? How fast are we talking?” Illyrio grumbled. “The boy is still young. I can’t just grab him by the head and feet and pull him taller, can I? What’s going on? Why the sudden rush?”

“The Iron Islands took the lead in raiding the western coast, but they were repelled directly and gained no advantage. The old lion refused to hand over his children and instead sent troops to disrupt grain production and transportation in the riverlands. He also established a bank in Lannisport, imposed gold control, and forced the sale of war bonds. If anyone keeps a certain amount of gold at home instead of depositing it in the bank, it is considered treason. Their property will be confiscated, and they will be hanged…”

“He’s mad!” Illyrio exclaimed in shock. “This is indeed a quick way to raise funds, but how is it any different from outright robbery? If he treats his subjects like this, even if he wins, the lion will never be able to rule the West again.”

“When Tywin exterminated the Reynes and Tarbecks, people said the same thing, but in the end, he became the most powerful and stable lord in the realm.” Varys frowned. “If you can’t even keep your life, what use is good governance? Besides, the difference between forced borrowing and open robbery is that if he wins, he may pay it back in the future. So far, I don’t see how he could possibly win, but there are birds reporting that the lion intends to hire mercenaries from the Stepstones and Essos to harass the eastern coast of Westeros, buying himself more time… but what’s the use of delaying, unless Robert dies?”

“Hiring outsiders to harass the enemy… quite an interesting tactic. Tywin’s military genius is well-deserved,” Illyrio nodded thoughtfully, then changed the subject. “How is the king’s injury?”

“No matter how clever the plan, it’s useless. It only scratches at the grievances of the six kingdoms and breeds more hatred,” Varys replied, carefully stepping around a puddle. “The king’s wound was showing signs of improvement, but a few days ago, it suddenly worsened. The Faith claims it is because of the ‘wight’ brought into the Red Keep, but I suspect Pycelle tampered with the medicine. The Hand of the King clearly has the same suspicion, so he ordered other maesters to take over the king’s treatment.”

“That ghoul… is it real?”

“From what I’ve seen, it’s real. The Night’s Watch puts it on display daily, and the people coming to see it block several streets. You can see for yourself if you like… why do you ask?” Varys tilted his head, casting a sidelong glance at Illyrio. “Are you thinking that a Westeros plagued by wights and White Walkers isn’t worth fighting for? I assure you, the Wall can hold those creatures back for a thousand years. They won’t be a problem for now. If you’re really worried, you can always donate some coin to the Night’s Watch to lend a hand.”

“…I’ll sail back to Pentos tonight. As for donations… we’ll discuss that later. Those ghosts are far more worrisome to the people of Braavos than they are to me.” The merchant-prince shook his head, pushing aside his curiosity about seeing the wight, and returned to their original discussion. “Pycelle, that’s the Grand Maester you once told me is loyal to House Lannister?”

“Yes. If he succeeds, we will gain more time. But if Robert survives, no matter how skilled the Lannisters are at war, it will all be in vain. In the end, victory or defeat comes down to population and resources.” Varys fell into thought. “Perhaps, I should help the Lannisters…”

The eunuch pressed a mechanism on the wall. With a low rumble, the passage behind them slowly closed, sealed by a smooth stone slab without the slightest crack.

…

Illyrio paid no mind to the scene, continuing to press, “If House Lannister is destroyed, how will that affect our plans?”

“The consequences would be severe. The lion is my best chess piece.” They were nearing the exit now, and Varys lowered his voice. “If you want the Seven Kingdoms in chaos when young Aegon lands, you need a strong enough force to tilt the scales at the critical moment. The Westerlands and the Reach meet that requirement. The North has few people… but considering House Stark’s reputation and their influence over the riverlands and the Vale, they could just barely make the cut. But of the three, Eddard Stark, the current Hand of the King, is cautious and steady. I cannot control him. The Reach is riddled with factions. Trying to manipulate them like puppets would be too difficult. Only the Westerlands—rich in gold, with strong military power and centralized leadership—are ruled by a proud, sensitive, and conceited lord. If I can pull just one string, provoke Tywin into feeling that his family’s reputation has been insulted, I can wield the full might of the Westerlands. But now, this most useful chess piece is on the verge of collapse. I can’t even be certain I’ll find a suitable replacement before I die.”

“What were you doing earlier?” Illyrio frowned. “How could you allow the Kingslayer to attack the king and then escape?”

“I’m no god. How could I predict what a fool might do?” Varys bristled at the accusation, his tone filled with dissatisfaction. “Eddard is a suspicious man. Do you know how much effort it took for me to make him come up with his own plan to deal with the Lannisters through indirect means? We only needed to control Jaime and Cersei, and Tywin would have been forced to swallow his rage. Once that seed of conflict was planted, it would have festered, growing stronger… When the time was right, all we had to do was help the Lannister siblings escape back to Casterly Rock, and war would break out. Who could have foreseen that a garrison commander would step in at the last moment, stopping the Kingslayer right at the city gate when he was about to board a ship to the black cells?”

“I heard he was beheaded in the square of the Great Sept of Baelor before I arrived. Before his death, he shouted, ‘I have served the realm and shed blood for the Iron Throne. I wish to see the king.'”

“Yes, that was him.”

“Well then, I believe this wasn’t your fault. I take back my words. I apologize.” Illyrio accepted the explanation, knowing their relationship couldn’t bear true conflict. “The destruction of the Lannisters will make it much harder for you to stir chaos, but in the worst case, it will simply cost more gold and manpower. The task won’t be impossible, will it?”

“I can still create chaos, but without a powerful and controllable variable… it will be much harder to maintain.” Varys took a deep breath. “The only thing that can still be used to shift the balance is the fight for the throne after Robert’s death.”

Illyrio did not hesitate. “Then let Robert die. You have no loyalty or affection for him, do you?”

“Robert can die… but what happens after? The North, riverlands, and Vale are natural allies. Littlefinger still holds some sway in the Vale through his wife, but now that he’s been driven off by a letter and the Alliance of the Righteous has been crushed, it’s nearly impossible to sow discord among those three. I don’t even know who wrote that letter. The Reach and the Stormlands are now aligned… Without the neutral power of the West, and with Dorne in our pocket, no matter what I try, the war will evolve into a conflict between two major alliances—North and South. Do you understand?”

“When civil war breaks out, can’t we just wait until both sides are exhausted and then strike?”

“You always think everyone else is a fool. We can manipulate those lords because I work in the shadows while they stand in the light, but they are not stupid. Once the war begins, I have no way to control the outcome. Both alliances are roughly equal in strength. The North cannot march into the Reach, and the Southerners cannot break through the Bloody Gate or the Neck. They’ll realize there’s no way to win decisively. Without a variable like the Westerlands to tip the scales, neither side will risk going all out. And remember… winter is coming. I can ignite the war, but I cannot dictate its course. No matter how it plays out, Westeros will eventually split into two halves, North and South. The only question is whether the crown and the Westerlands will fall under northern or southern control. At that point, do you expect young Aegon, with no dragons, to mimic his ancestors and defeat two powerful, well-entrenched alliances with nothing but mercenaries, then reunify the realm?”

“That’s grim… but we do have dragons. Three of them.”

“Daenerys has the dragons, not us,” Varys corrected. “Only if we bring her back swiftly and marry her to Aegon can we barely call the dragons ours. You know as well as I do that Aegon can’t ride a dragon. We don’t even know if their children could. Damn it, if I’d known things would change this quickly, I wouldn’t have let Jorah take her east. The last I heard, she had just defeated the slavers of Astapor, claimed the Unsullied, and set out for Yunkai. I don’t even know where she is now.”

“Those three little dragons… are they really that important?”

“The dragons are still young. The key is Daenerys Targaryen herself. You don’t understand the mindset of the people of Westeros. Daenerys is the Targaryen heir the realm recognizes. Aegon, if accepted by her, becomes Aegon Targaryen in their eyes.” Varys stepped onto the stairs, then suddenly turned back. “I told you to find Petyr Baelish. Did you?”

“He’s very skilled at avoiding pursuit, but we’ve tracked him down and are on his trail. However, the man’s reputation is filthy in Westeros. No matter how clever he is, we can’t let someone like him serve Aegon.”

“Aegon can’t use him, no. It would stain his reputation when he claims the Iron Throne. But the queen doesn’t care.” Varys nodded. “Littlefinger is the second smartest man in the Seven Kingdoms. For a young girl wandering alone, he could be a great help. When you find him, send him directly to Daenerys. But make sure she knows all the vile things he’s done. Don’t let our future queen be taken in by that scoundrel.”

“That won’t be hard. I’ll send Belwas with him. If Littlefinger dares to scheme against the queen, I’ll have him snap his neck.” Illyrio nodded. “But the girl is still in Slaver’s Bay. Even if we send him now, it’ll take half a year, maybe a full year, for this so-called second smartest man to help her overcome the obstacles ahead and bring her back to Westeros. By then, I fear the war here will be over. How do you plan to handle that?”

“Have Aegon lead the Golden Company ashore first. Ally with Dorne to stabilize the situation, then plan the next steps. We can’t leave Westeros unattended before Daenerys returns.”

“That will take at least a month or two. Can the Lannisters hold out that long?”

“Obviously not. Even as we speak, cavalry from the North may have already entered the riverlands and driven out Tywin’s arsonists. Soon, the six kingdoms will converge on the Westerlands. Gold can’t stop an army. I have to buy the lion some time, give Tywin a chance to hold out until Aegon arrives. Robert must die. I may have to serve as the lion’s spy, helping them avoid collapse too quickly.” Varys sighed with regret. “Damn it, I should have acted while Pycelle still controlled the king’s treatment. I could have avoided suspicion. Now, with Robert surrounded by Eddard’s men, it’s too late.”

“My old friend, you’re the best illusionist in the world. Surely you can find a way to make the king disappear. I hope you can conjure more tricks. Please.”

“I will do what must be done, but you must move faster. Even the greatest juggler can’t keep a hundred balls in the air forever.” Varys exhaled slowly. “I need more funds… and fifty birds.”

“So many?” Illyrio looked troubled. “It’s hard to find the kind you want. Young, literate, without parents or family… If you’re willing to relax the age a bit, a hundred would be no problem. The older ones aren’t as likely to die…”

“No. The young ones are safer. Adults snooping around would raise suspicion, but no one watches a child running through the streets.” Varys shook his head firmly. “As for the risk to their lives… the Game of Thrones has never been played without sacrifice. If you’re uneasy, just be kind to them while you’re training them.”

“That’s the best I can do. Any advice for what we should do after we land?”

“Blend in with the pirates the Lannisters hired, quietly land in the Stormlands. Don’t gather in large numbers. Don’t raise the dragon banner. Follow Griff’s orders. He knows this land well. Then establish contact with Dorne. Try to take Storm’s End. If you succeed, you can formally announce your return with the backing of both the Stormlands and Dorne. If you fail, retreat to Dorne and wait for the queen to arrive with her dragons and the Unsullied.” Varys shook his head. “But there’s no point discussing details now. Once war breaks out, anything can happen. You’ve given Aegon his staff and his followers. It’s time to put them to use.”

(To be continued.)

***

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