Chapter XXI: Bran II – Audience
The room held its breath. People usually did when King Bran held an audience himself instead of letting his Hand do the talking. If Bran still felt amused by these things, he would probably come more often. As it was, many things occupied his mind, and few were as mundane as dealing with accusations against a corrupt harbormaster. But a king needed to be seen every once in a while, and so he let his chair be lifted up onto the dais so that he could listen to complaints.
The audience tittered as the harbormaster was led away, removed from his post and sentenced to repay the city the sum he had stolen from it. The man started to cry once he was outside, Bran saw, through the eyes of a crow.
In the throne room without a throne, the next petitioner was led inside. He was a portly man wearing rich silks. His ample cheeks were the most prominent feature on his otherwise unremarkable face. He put on an air of righteousness as he bowed deeply.
“Your Grace,” the man began. “My name is Weston Holdwater. I purchased the land where the Alchemist’s Guild used to stand with the intention of rebuilding what is left of the buildings and tearing down what can’t be salvaged. My plans to establish a trading company have been approved by the city. Everything is in order, yet for some reason, construction is delayed again and again on orders of the city watch. The commander refuses to tell me why. So I ask you, please allow me to begin my work. I don’t know how much longer I can afford to be idle. A humble merchant such as myself only has so much money.”
Bran hummed and pretended to mull this over for a while, closing his eyes and letting his mind travel elsewhere. Finally, he cleared his throat. “You may start construction in exchange for the contents of the back room of the cellar in your second residence,” Bran told him. “If that price is acceptable to you.”
Holdwater blanched and gasped for air. He stared at Bran as if he was looking straight into the maw of a dragon, come back to the city just to roast him. He began to sweat. Finally he managed to force a strained smile onto his face. “No, thank you, Your Grace,” he said. “I think I’ll wait for the official permission.”
Then he left the room in what was clearly a hurry, and the tittering started up again.
When the audience was done, Tyrion Lannister followed him on the way to the godswood.
“What’s in the cellar?” he asked.
Bran smiled enigmatically. “Everything Holdwater could find out about the Alchemists’ wildfire.”
Lord Tyrion raised his eyebrows. “So he didn’t want to start a trading company. We should arrest him before he runs off.”
“There is no need. He already has, but he has left everything behind. Send some men to confiscate his research.”
Lord Tyrion bowed. “Of course, Your Grace.”
Fin