The exterior of the gunpowder grass manor was unpretentious, but the interior was tasteful and elegant. The craftsmanship of the Free Cities was truly exquisite, and Gendry couldn't help but admire it.
The mercenaries followed Captain "Handsome" into the manor's reception hall. After climbing the steps, they saw the marble-finished floor and the beautiful Myrish tapestries on the walls, depicting hunting scenes. The mercenary brothers sat on benches, while the manor's steward and Handsome sat at the highest point.
The slaves who served the dishes, besides the aged cook, were men and women with lifeless eyes. The gunpowder grass manor had several layers of walls; besieging it would be much more difficult than fighting in the open. Slaves could have been used, but the Myrish preferred to trust mercenaries rather than arm their slaves.
The ratio of slaves to freemen in the Free Cities was three to one, and the Myrish nobility had to carefully manage and utilize them.
Aromatic waves of food filled the air—roast chicken, sea fish, fried pork chops, mushroom soup, and the specialties of the Free Cities, Tyroshi garlic-flavored sausages, and Myrish snails. The drinks were equally impressive—Tyroshi pear brandy, Myrish firewine, green wine, Pentoshi amber wine, and Lysene red and white wines, all available.
"Let's drink to that, everyone!" Steward Leif stood up and said. The slaves remained expressionless, like soulless pieces of wood.
The courtyard was filled with the sound of clinking glasses, producing a crisp sound. Half the men drank wine, while the other half drank juice, a rule of the Wolf Pack—someone always had to stay sober.
Gendry savored the delicious food in front of him; it truly tasted wonderful. He had never seen such a feast. In King's Landing, he had memories of hunger from his childhood. Although he was well-fed in the blacksmith's shop, an apprentice's food was never this tasty.
"You went all out this time, old friend!" Handsome said.
"It's the least I can do!" the steward laughed heartily. Everyone ate their fill, thanking the steward for his hospitality.
"Gentlemen, we also have some lovely slave girls who will attend to you! If you're interested!" the steward dropped another bombshell.
Cheers erupted, with the mercenaries of the Wolf Pack allowing no rape but not interfering in other dealings between mercenary companies.
"You went all out, old friend! It seems this mission isn't going to be easy!"
"Besides the occasional thieves! There's probably a bigger threat, right?" Handsome asked bluntly in a low voice.
"You guessed it!" Steward Leif whispered. "With gunpowder grass so valuable these days, besides the looters, the magister is also afraid of another possibility. Merchants hoarding gunpowder grass are hiring people to sabotage and burn our manor, driving the price of gunpowder grass even higher!"
"But what about the gunpowder grass the magister himself has hoarded?" Handsome asked.
"For the election year, the magister has already exchanged his stored aged gunpowder grass for gold. These remaining crops, the magister must hold onto tightly."
...
The magisterial elections in the Free Cities were filled with struggles of money and power, and were quite ruthless. In Tyrosh, for example, the ruler was called the "Archon," and the Archon's election was filled with threats and bribes—Tyroshi considered this legitimate: a candidate who couldn't even bribe his way into office, how could he be fit to rule their city?
"Well, let's hope the next few months pass peacefully!"
After eating and drinking their fill, the mercenaries gradually returned to their rooms. Some mercenaries went to the slave girls, while others took up guard duty.
"Your Grace, although the land of the Disputed Lands is fertile, it is not a good place to establish a foothold!" Maester Qyburn said softly as he and Gendry returned to their room.
"Tell me your thoughts, Maester Qyburn!"
"The Disputed Lands are the middle ground of the Free Cities, and neither the Free Cities nor Volantis would easily allow an independent king to exist! Not to mention these troublemaking pirates and mercenaries, each of whom thinks highly of themselves and will not submit."
"The Copper King once made it!" Gendry whispered.
"It's too difficult, and the Copper King had merchants, mercenaries, or pirates, as well as the Golden Company, a powerful army. But us!" Qyburn mused. The strength of the Copper King was formidable in its time.
"It's up to us. I think the Copper King hasn't tapped into a more powerful force!" Gendry's eyes gleamed with coldness. Liberating the slaves might not be a bad idea; it could bring some entirely new changes to the world.
"You mean liberating the slaves?"
Gendry nodded.
"This idea is too crazy, like releasing the fires of hell! We can't easily free the slaves!" Maester Qyburn was shocked.
"Slavery is one of the cores of world trade. Although the Seven Kingdoms haven't had slavery for thousands of years, both the old and new gods despise slavery. But no Westerosi king would dare to oppose most of the world that supports slavery, even the Braavosi just beat up Pentos. Opposing slavery means opposing the Free Cities, opposing Volantis, opposing Slaver's Bay!"
"Chaos brings new life. Our foothold can only be the Stepstones and the Disputed Lands. Moreover, this is just an idea; the road is long."
Qyburn pondered in silence. Gendry's idea was crazy and had never been attempted.
Then the old maester said, "I will do my best to help you. I hope that one day, the world will move according to your will."
"But you might have another path!" Maester Qyburn said mysteriously. "There is a pair of exiled brothers and sisters who have made the bigwigs of King's Landing very afraid."
"You mean the Beggar King and his sister?"
"Yes!" Maester Qyburn nodded. "Although the Targaryen family has lost their throne, many nobles still secretly curse King Robert as a usurper and acknowledge the true dragon bloodline."
"Let's talk about it slowly!" Gendry thought for a moment. Strengthening himself was the main thing.
Although this idea was crazy, a bastard and an exiled princess, if they could return to Westeros, that would be the real storm-stirring. But Daenerys and Viserys were well protected by the fat magister of Pentos, with no opportunity to slip in.
...
"Come on, kid!" The next morning, on the training ground of the gunpowder grass manor, "Handsome" had Gendry raise his weapon. Handsome's longsword was truly impressive as it danced through the air.
Gendry swung his mace, each blow powerful and heavy.
The two of them exchanged blows on the training ground. Although there was no blood flying, they displayed the beauty of surging strength.
The practice mace made a sharp noise as Gendry seemed to enter a state of frenzy, hammering Handsome again and again.
"Again!" Gendry roared, challenging Handsome to come up with faster and fiercer attacks!
Handsome was drenched in sweat until his practice sword shattered.
Gendry stood on the field, his armor dented from the practice sword, his cloak torn into shreds.
"Surrender!" Handsome managed to say two words.
"It won't be long before I might have to take your spot!"
The square erupted in sharp whistles and cheers. "Hammer! Hammer!"
"I'll take him on!" Another mercenary brother stepped up, his nickname "Lance," who wielded his spear with incredible skill.