Through the window of his carriage, Illyrio, the Magister of Pentos, beheld the spectacular grey-brown outer walls of Viserysgrad below the hill, their foundations built upon massive boulders.
At the foot of the hill lay a city with docks, while atop the hill stood the King's white castle, where the black banner with a red dragon fluttered at the summit.
Viserysgrad leaned against the Upper Rhoyne River to its left, with rolling hills to its right; the city was also fortified with a moat, looking as formidable as a crouching dragon and a hidden tiger.
Illyrio looked at the design of Viserysgrad, noting how it dominated the landscape by occupying the high ground.
Then there were the giant walls, covered in battlements, arrow slits, and murder holes—it could truly be described as an impregnable fortress of iron and bronze.
Since Pentos had been effectively disarmed by Braavos, the Pentos Magisters had little experience leading troops, but even from an outsider's perspective, it was clear this place would be very difficult to conquer.
"Why does this stone look so familiar?" Illyrio peered closely at the outer walls of Viserysgrad and instantly realized they were the string of megalithic stone circles from the Velvet Hills.
"Clever man, knowing how to use local materials. It seems that giant valyrian steel statue will also disappear before long."
Illyrio continued forward. Armed with a letter of passage signed by the Pentos Magisters, he was escorted up to the fortress at the top of the hill as an honored guest without much trouble, just as Viserys had previously arranged.
The guards then inspected Illyrio's carriage train.
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Besides the supplies for Illyrio's own consumption, there were many gifts intended for Viserys.
Seven large carriages were filled entirely with presents.
Gold, silver, jewelry, magnificent clothes, precious spices, fine wines, and several beautiful virgin "maids."
They were called maids, but in reality, they were the life-contract servants the Pentoshi played with—slaves.
Illyrio's carriage followed the white stone road all the way up the hill.
This orderly city and the Andals filled with joy and peace of mind undoubtedly spoke to Viserys's management abilities.
"Could it be that this Viserys is a once-in-a-generation genius who simply knew how to hide himself?" Illyrio speculated privately.
But Illyrio quickly dismissed the thought; Varys's intelligence was rarely wrong.
The boy Viserys in the Red Keep was a fickle, irritable, and spoiled prince.
It was more likely that hardship and bitterness had forged the man, sharpening Viserys's talents and turning him from a playboy into a capable leader.
If that were true, then this Viserys was even more terrifying; it would require an incredibly ruthless and hardened heart.
After escaping the protection of his guardian Ser Willem Darry and the Sealord, he had seized the strategic opportunity and grasped power himself.
This eye for opportunity and the ruthlessness to take the field personally were not at all like a spoiled playboy.
"If this is the case, our plans seem to need some adjustment," Illyrio pondered. Originally, their plans didn't even include Viserys and his companions because they looked down on them.
Viserys and the others were merely smoke screens to draw the gaze of the iron throne, used to buy time for their own "Aegon" to develop.
But now the situation was changing too fast, to the point where they might lose their reach over Viserys.
While he was reflecting, they arrived at the Targaryen Family's new stronghold, the "White Keep."
Illyrio struggled to climb down from the carriage, his large chest and layers of fat making him look like a bloated manatee.
"Heaven help me, this is truly a chore," Illyrio commented. "However, compared to the rich and prosperous Pentos, this White City also has a fresh air about it—a new city."
In the past, when leaving Pentos, the plains had orchards, farms, and mines, but only peasants and laborers were bound there, and the land suffered under the ravages of the dothraki horsemen.
Not to mention Andalos, a backwater that the Pentoshi looked down on even more.
In such a vast region, one usually wouldn't see any towns, and the Magisters rarely traveled far.
Seeing the White Keep, Illyrio was still very curious.
Black-armored guards politely took over Illyrio's security, and Illyrio ordered his Unsullied warriors to comply.
A clever man knows to give his host face.
"This way, Lord Magister." A tall Andal warrior came to lead the way for Illyrio.
Illyrio followed the warrior's steps toward a white council hall.
The original grey-brown stone hall had been completely renovated and was now a council hall constructed of white marble.
While not exceptionally extravagant, the hall looked simple and beautiful.
Passing through doors of oak and iron, sunlight shone through the glass on both sides, and a red carpet was spread across the floor.
The vaulted ceiling was also a mosaic of various marbles, clearly in the shape of a roaring dragon.
"Lord Magister, you are the first foreign guest of honor to arrive at Viserysgrad," Viserys said.
Viserys sat on a throne atop a high dais in the hall. The throne was made of oak, its back shaped into the likeness of a three-headed dragon.
A large banner hung on the stone wall behind Viserys, featuring a red three-headed dragon sigil on a black field.
Argos and Hugo stood to Viserys's left and right respectively, serving as the King's guards.
"Bring a chair for my guest. Magister, come forward," Viserys commanded.
Illyrio was so fat that the chair provided for him seemed large enough to fit a whale, complete with a velvet backrest.
"This is Your Majesty's grace, I am deeply grateful. Seeing Your Majesty is like seeing the likeness of the conqueror of old," Illyrio said.
The Fat Magister's forehead was covered in pea-sized beads of sweat, and the piggish eyes on his fleshy face darted back and forth.
The rings on his hands glittered brilliantly, featuring onyx, opal, tiger's eye, tourmaline, ruby, amethyst, sapphire, emerald, jet, jade, a massive black diamond, and a giant green pearl.
Viserys looked at the rings on the Fat Magister's hands; this son-of-a-bitch Pentos Magister was truly wealthy.
These merchant Magisters had long since seized the power of the great city-states, sidelining the noble Princes.
"If the dothraki can rob them, then I shouldn't be polite either," Viserys decided. There would eventually be a chance to make a big score.
Of course, not right now.
Illyrio noticed a fleeting flash of greed in Viserys's eyes—a desire for wealth.
Illyrio felt much more at ease; as long as someone loved money, there was a channel for communication.
Illyrio looked at the valiant young silver-haired King, with his short silver hair and purple eyes, wearing black clothes embroidered with red dragons made of rubies.
Upon Viserys's head was a golden circlet crown set with seven gems. With every glance, he exuded the aura of a King.
There was also the charisma Viserys inherited from the true dragon family, an inhuman beauty. Back then, Rhaegar was famous for his looks, and Viserys's appearance was even higher than Rhaegar's.
However, the demeanor of the two was completely different. Rhaegar was of the brooding, artistic, and melancholic style, while Viserys was more like an ambitious, confident, and free-spirited young King.
Illyrio compared the "Aegon" he had hidden away with Viserys; the gap was too large.
That Aegon was still a child. Even if they packaged him by saying his claim was higher and more legitimate, his charisma simply couldn't compare to the increasingly sharp Viserys.
The current Viserys was a dangerous and magnificent warrior, worshipped as a god by the Andals.
"Thank you for your praise, Magister. However, I wonder for what purpose you have crossed mountains and waters to come here?" Viserys's expression remained neutral; this fat man's flattery was quite thick.
Viserys was already wary of this fat man. The best solution would be to kill him, but it would be best if he could get the petrified dragon eggs first.
Illyrio and Varys thought their schemes were seamless, but Viserys knew the plot.
The reason people like Illyrio and Varys succeeded in playing their games of shadows was because of their honeyed words and hidden daggers, combined with their vast ambition and humble conduct; few people ever noticed their existence.
"I come for friendship—the friendship between Pentos and Andalos," Illyrio said with a smile.
The fat all over Illyrio's body moved in an exaggerated fashion.
"What kind of friendship?" Viserys asked.
"A friendship that is guaranteed to satisfy you," Illyrio boasted. "If you agree, I will have my Unsullied guards bring up the gifts."
"Please!"
"As you command, Your Majesty!" Illyrio rose with a smile, feeling as if the chair might shatter in the next instant.
The Unsullied guards then began carrying massive chests into the hall, seven in total.
One by one, the chests were opened by the Unsullied, revealing a dazzling array of jewels and treasures that filled the room with light.
The first chest was gold, the second silver, the third gems, and the fourth was spices, such as nutmeg and cloves.
The fifth chest held magnificent clothes, and the sixth contained exquisite armor and weapons.
The seventh chest contained ancient and famous wines.