Game of Thrones: King of Magic

Chapter 12

Solomon. Essos.

The day at Iona's household was spent quite well. After lunch, Ms. Rizza took care of household chores, and Jonah played outside under the supervision of Halon and me. The content of the conversations was not out of the ordinary, but his analyzing gaze never left my figure. He didn't comment on my appearance or clothing in any way, but he definitely made a couple of notes.

Halon was definitely of noble descent and behaved cautiously with me. No questions about family or money. I wondered what the story behind him was.

The morning after, he headed to the Pentos market to buy something. And since I was heading there too, I went with him.

He was dressed in his usual linen robes and took a small dagger with him. And I, after some thought, created a beige-colored cloak covering my entire body. Since I thought that my appearance... attracted too much attention, considering my first appearance in Winterfell.

He was surprised at my actions, raising an eyebrow, but not too much.

- So you're a sorcerer, Master Solomon?

- A Magician, to be exact. And you're not particularly surprised by that fact, Mr. Halon," I replied, "Besides, we can drop the formalities. If it's convenient for both of us, of course.

- Good. If we're both comfortable with it," he nodded, "Magic, though rare, is known to ordinary people. That's why my reaction is so weak. And now that I have the opportunity, may I ask who you are? You didn't have any bag or provisions, indicating either a lack of need or something to do with magic. You're definitely of noble blood, given your appearance and clothing. And your calmness hints at full awareness of the situation and knowing what to do and how to do it. But why were there no escorts? That's very strange.

- A traveling Magician. And I'm confident in my magic so I don't rely on guards or needs," I said in a measured tone, "And you're very strange too. This level of observation and skill of behavior is not typical of the average shell salesman. A fallen house or a bastard?

- So you're from Westeros," Halon nodded to himself, "And what about me? Let's just say something happened.

- I see. What can you tell me about Pentos? This is the first time I've visited the city. I assume you have more information than the average person.

- Is there anything in particular you're interested in? What you're asking me to tell you may take some time.

- Something specific, I suppose," I replied, thinking, "What would you single out for yourself?

- Hmm... Slavery, I think. Officially, it's forbidden in Pentos. In fact, there are still slaves. They're just called by a different name. Technically, they're free, but they can only leave if they're not in debt to their master. And the vast majority of the city's population is in debt, because the pay for labor is extremely low and does not cover the cost of shelter and food.

He paused for a moment.

- Pentos and Braavos had been at war six times, costing the city a great deal. One of the princes, formally the ruler of the city and elected by the council of magisters, who hold the real power, made a peace treaty with Braavos, forbidding Pentos to have its own army besides the city guard, more than twenty warships or mercenaries. And the abolition of slavery, of course. Is that enough, Solomon?

- Quite. - I answered and thought.

Interesting.

Such a policy makes Pentos defenseless, except for its high walls. But a couple of siege weapons, which don't exist yet, and the city can be taken by anyone. Hmm...