"R'hllor is the Lord of Light, but not only the Lord of Light. Many sorcerers know that R'hllor is also the master of shadows," the Myrish merchant said in a lowered voice.
"The master of shadows? What is that?" the rustic knight from Westeros asked, confused.
"A dark god from the Shadow Lands of the Far East!" After a pause, the Myrish merchant asked, "Ser Hogg, you know about Aegon's death, don't you?"
Ser Hogg seemed thoughtful. "The Lord of Light is very fond of blood sacrifice. The monk Martini who serves my household often curses R'hllor as an evil god."
The merchant lowered his voice even further. "Princess Arianne has met Ser Richard Hope, hasn't she? It's said he has been to both the Red God's heaven and the Seven Gods' heaven. There are also rumors that followers of the Red God do not end well."
Arianne glanced at the merchant in surprise. "I didn't expect the news to spread so quickly. Even a foreign merchant like you knows about it."
"Although the Battle of Winterfell was brutal, quite a number of people survived. Dragonstone alone has over a hundred. Tidehead Island is right next door, so it's only natural that some news would spread," Teresa said indifferently.
The Myrish merchant nodded. "I have business dealings with Dragonstone. I once heard it from Lord Bronn of the Blackwater.
Richard personally witnessed his former companions being forged into chains, tormented day and night, stripped of their humanity, and turned into demons filled with resentment and malice."
"So it was Bronn." Ser Hogg's expression turned complicated, and he said sourly, "Back then, he was hated by Cersei and had to flee Stokeworth with his whole family. We even mocked him, thinking he had finally met his retribution.
Who would have thought it wasn't retribution at all? That fellow has clearly received the Mother's blessing."
Stokeworth lay next to the Hoggs' Boar's Horn. The two families even shared a forest, the very one where Daenerys had once planned to spend the night.
A sellsword picking up "scraps" like Lollys would not make anyone envious, but using schemes to inherit Stokeworth made people jealous and resentful.
Now he had even shed the Stokeworth name, becoming the true founder of his own house as the Blackwater Lord. More importantly, he had become one of the "Three Giants of Dragonstone" under the Dragon Queen.
No matter what other nobles thought, Ser Hogg next door was clearly eaten up with envy.
Aside from the equally struggling Ser Hafford, Arianne and her sisters, as well as the Myrish merchant, had no particular feelings about Bronn. They ignored Ser Hogg's remarks and continued discussing the previous topic.
"I heard that recently many commoners, in order to survive, have sold their indulgences. Many of these indulgences have been collected by merchants from your Free Cities," Arianne said.
The Myrish merchant made a strange expression. "Not many. All of them.
Except for a few middlemen hoarding them to profit from price differences, in the end all the indulgences sold will fall into our hands.
After all, the people of Westeros receive free indulgences. There's no need for them to buy any."
"This is blasphemy. You will face retribution," the eldest Sand Snake said coldly.
The merchant nodded. "I think so too. That's why I never actively purchase indulgences from the people of Westeros."
"Not actively?"
The merchant glanced at the two knights opposite him. "Even nobles are struggling to survive, forced to sell their property and mortgage the tax income of their lands. What can ordinary people do?"
Ser Hogg and Ser Hafford both flushed with embarrassment, cursing the tactless bald merchant in their hearts.
Teresa frowned. "How many gold dragons can one indulgence be exchanged for?"
"Gold dragons are useless. Commoners only want food and clothing. Dozens of pounds of wheat, a few loaves of bread, a bottle of wine… Some even exchange an indulgence for a ticket to leave Westeros," the Myrish merchant sighed.
"That's too foolish. How long can a few dozen pounds of wheat last? Even if they go to the Free Cities, there's no sun, no food, no work. They'll starve just the same. And when they die, they won't even enter heaven. It's incredibly stupid."
Teresa grew both angry and anxious, stamping her high leather boots loudly against the floor, as if those short-sighted fools were her own relatives.
"Things that are too easily obtained are often overlooked in their true value and not cherished," the merchant said, taking a sip of mead and baring his teeth in a sigh. "An indulgence that guarantees entry to heaven without conditions is an unparalleled treasure.
If there were only one such indulgence in the world, you could trade it with any king for a fief, a city, or a hereditary noble title.
But now, in Westeros, millions of people… at least the Dragon Queen has promised one for everyone, regardless of status or age."
Teresa abruptly stood up, about to leave in haste.
Arianne grabbed her. "What are you doing?"
"I'm going to Dragonstone to find the Dragon Queen. We can't let indulgences flow out anymore.
Faith cannot be desecrated. The Mother must not be slighted. Heaven is not a bathhouse where you can enter just by holding a ticket."
"The negotiation upstairs is about to end. Wait a bit longer. We'll ride Tyrion's wyvern to Dragonstone together," Arianne advised.
Teresa sat back down angrily, her face dark and silent.
Ser Hogg tried to comfort her gently. "This isn't something new. The Dragon Queen probably already knows."
"For the sake of surviving a few days now, they abandon long-term happiness. Commoners have always been so short-sighted and foolish. Even the merciful Mother cannot save them. There's no need for you to be so agitated, Miss Nun," Ser Hafford said dismissively.
These words only made Teresa, already in a bad mood, even angrier. "You're a noble, yet you don't seem particularly far-sighted either."
Ser Hafford did not expect such rudeness from a noble lady. He had intended to comfort her. Even if his words didn't suit her taste, she shouldn't have taken it out on him.
"How am I not far-sighted?" he asked with a dark expression.
He was the acting lord of Hafford Castle and guardian of the young count. His status was not inferior to that of an unrecognized Sand Snake.
Teresa sneered. "What was the Mother's original intention in distributing indulgences? If the common people use up all their indulgences, who will help you defend your city? Who will fight the army of the Others to the death?
Exchanging thirty years of tax rights for a few hundred tons of grain is no different from commoners trading indulgences for a few dozen pounds of wheat."
Ser Hafford flushed red with anger but found no words to refute her. He glanced at Arianne, hoping the Dornish princess would restrain her cousin.
Arianne and the Sand Snakes only smiled as if watching a show.
"Buffett, the contract is signed. Make sure to deliver the grain to Tidehead Island on time." With that, Ser Hafford stood up with a cold face and left.
Ser Hogg also rose, gave Arianne and the ladies an apologetic smile, and followed him out.
Throughout the entire process, Teresa showed no shame. Instead, she held her head high, looking pleased, as if venting her earlier frustration.
After the two knights disappeared, the Myrish merchant shook his head and sighed. "They exchanged the tax income of their lands for grain not to save their people, but to transport it to Tidehead Island to ensure their own families' survival."
The smile vanished from Teresa's face. "They've moved their families to Tidehead Island?"
The merchant gestured toward the door. "Just look at Tidehead Town now. Crowds everywhere, carriages packed, goods in abundance, inns fully occupied. Most of the customers are nobles and their servants.
Below the cliffs near Driftwood Castle of High Tide City, hundreds of villas are being constructed.
They belong to noble houses from across the Seven Kingdoms, including the Haffords.
Their family is small. The direct line consists of only a five-year-old girl. Including relatives, servants, and guards, they number no more than forty. Six hundred tons of grain would last them a hundred years.
The Long Night won't last a hundred years, will it?
So Ser Hafford is not without foresight. He has prepared for the worst, and his arrangements are enough to ensure the Hafford family line survives the Long Night."
A gloom settled over Teresa's sweet face.
Arianne sighed helplessly. "The Battle of Winterfell at least delivered two messages: the Cold God can cast forbidden spells and is terrifying; the Dragon Queen can withstand it, and being by her side is safe.
So rather than fleeing to the unfamiliar lands across the Narrow Sea, it's better to build 'winter villas' on Tidehead Island.
At least everyone around you is familiar, and you can maintain noble dignity and status."
After a moment of silence, Teresa suddenly asked, "Are any nobles involved in reselling indulgences?"
"What do you think? They're already so poor they've mortgaged their tax rights," Arianne mocked.
Teresa looked at the merchant. "I should pray to the Mother and ask Her to impose restrictions on indulgences, so that even the ordinary red-glow version can lock onto a person's soul fluctuations like the gray-glow warrior version."
"You can perform divine magic?" the merchant asked in shock, his tone changing.
There were many monks and nuns in the Seven Kingdoms, but those blessed by the Mother who could perform holy healing were extremely rare.
Many bloated bishops had even been dismissed after failing to demonstrate divine magic for long periods. Local lords would petition the Great Sept of Baelor to replace them.
Teresa smiled proudly again. "During the Battle of Winterfell, my courage and fearlessness moved the Mother."
In truth, it had little to do with bravery.
After obtaining two percent of the Green Seer's mark from the Other King, the Seven Gods gained greater control over Westeros' "heavenly order."
Their connection with believers became closer, and the efficiency of transmitting divine power increased. Correspondingly, the requirements to become a priest began to decrease.
Though Teresa was like a red sand snake, sweet in appearance but dangerous within, she had received training as a nun since childhood and possessed sufficient devotion.
"Actually, I suspect that purchased indulgences might not grant entry to heaven," the Myrish merchant said hesitantly.
"Red-glow indulgences can already be transferred to others. Whether money is involved or not, the Mother wouldn't care, right?" Arianne said.
"Why does the Mother distribute indulgences? To fight the Others and enter heaven," Buffett reminded.
Arianne looked at the merchant in surprise and immediately understood his meaning. "I almost forgot."
"The Mother is all-powerful. Do you think She wouldn't know how you obtained your indulgence? Even after reaching heaven, She could cast you down into the seven hells," Buffett sighed.
Arianne studied the merchant carefully. He was a shrewd man. The fact that he had not left and was speaking so candidly with them…
As a princess, she had no interest in playing mind games with a merchant and asked directly, "What do you want?"
"Actually, I also want to fight the Others."
"Be direct."
"I want to pledge my allegiance to Prince Doran. I hope Princess Arianne can introduce me."
Arianne frowned. "If you want to serve Tyrion, why come to me? Don't you know Bronn?"
"Well… aren't you about to be betrothed to Prince Doran?"
(End of Chapter)
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