Viserys looked at the Greenvine Family's letter on the parchment; the green grapevines on it seemed to come alive.
Grapevines originally lived on soil and water, but now these vines needed to see some blood.
"If the Greenvine Family had openly campaigned against me, mobilizing all their troops to attack me, even if they were defeated, I would have spared them.
But now, they are falsely pledging allegiance to me… The Greenvine Family seems too dangerous…" Viserys put away the Greenvine Family's letter, already having an expectation in his heart.
In the world of power, beasts are everywhere, and supreme power is never to be shared.
Viserys had a good understanding of what kind of people the Greenvine Family were.
The Greenvine Family, like the Frey Family, profited from resource taxes.
The Frey Family relied on tolls, while the Greenvine Family relied on selling Andals sour wine.
He feared they coveted the position of King of Andal, feeling envy, jealousy, and resentment towards Viserys, rather than fawning over him like a sycophant.
Such a mercenary family, bowing and scraping in a letter, could only be plotting something grand.
Viserys felt the strong malicious intent of a conspiracy.
Moreover, there was the matter of the Greenvine Family allegedly guiding the Tyrosh people, which made them even less trustworthy.
Viserys put away the Greenvine Family's letter; he would return an enthusiastic letter.
At the same time, he waited for the Greenvine Family to take the bait.
In this game of power, who would have the last laugh?
Viserys then looked at the letter from the Stone Family, who controlled the blacksmith trade.
The Stone Family's letter was much cruder, practically in the tone of a Zaun top laner.
"I, Artis Stone of the Stone Family, demand that you, the exiled dragon whelp Viserys Targaryen, get out of our Andals land, get out of the Velvet Hills.
The land of Andals should belong to us andals, not to outsiders.
If you wish to conquer, then first, in the name of a warrior, come and fight me to the death." Viserys looked at these rude words and was amused.
A crude and direct family, Viserys remembered the name Artis Stone.
Although the Stone Family clearly showed hostility, it was not the key; the key was the Greenvine Family's movements.
"Tell me what you know about the Greenvine Family's structure?" Viserys asked Umber.
"The patriarch of the Greenvine Family is 'Fat Grape' Aman Greenvine, a fat and greedy old man.
People say the Greenvine Family is the wealthiest family in Andal today.
As for his children, he has entrusted each of them with important responsibilities.
His eldest son is his heir and currently manages the family's trade routes.
His second son commands the Greenvine Family's guard, an excellent warrior.
His third son is the Greenvine Family's steward.
As for his youngest son, he seems to be a family monk," Umber said.
Upon hearing this, Viserys realized it was a standard family conglomerate.
"The Greenvine Family's reputation isn't very good," Umber added.
"They haggle like merchants from Pentos and Tyrosh, and have very good relations with merchants from the Free Cities, unlike pure andals."
Viserys already harbored considerable hostility towards the Greenvine Family, and now that his opponent made the first move, it was a good thing.
The Greenvine Family did not lack money; their soldiers would be relatively well-equipped.
However, if the Greenvine Family truly intended to plot against Viserys, how would the conspiracy be carried out?
A flash of inspiration struck Viserys's mind, and he deduced a likely answer: mercenaries.
Since Viserys profited from selling wine, he would not lack the corresponding channels and merchant friends in the Free Cities, nor would he lack mercenary channels.
Moreover, if the Greenvine Family were to act, and worried about their own family's insufficient strength, they could only spend money to hire mercenaries from outside Andals, and Tyrosh and Pentos did not lack mercenaries.
"I will agree to the Greenvine Family's request," Viserys declared.
"The Greenvine Family will send me a good amount of wine, as well as corresponding supplies.
As a courtesy, it seems I should indeed receive them by the Rhoyne River."
"That's too dangerous, Your Majesty," Umber said, opening his mouth.
"If Aman truly means you harm, meeting them would be very perilous."
"It is not I who should fear wine merchants, but they who should fear me." Viserys had made up his mind.
"If I am to sign an alliance with Aman, only Argus needs to accompany me.
As for the rest of you, I have other arrangements," Viserys said mysteriously.
If the Greenvine Family truly intended to act against him, then they would walk right into his trap.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained.
"As you command, Your Majesty.
But this is too dangerous, I request to be your guard," Ser Roland pleaded.
"I have a more important task for you," Viserys said to Ser Roland.
The Greenvine Family's trump card was their family reserves or mercenaries; in response, Viserys had also prepared a reserve force.
Viserys had now selected a longbowman unit and placed Hugo in charge.
And the cavalry, under Ser Roland's management, was also showing initial results.
On the road in the Velvet Hills, the corpulent "Fat Grape" Aman Greenvine leisurely rode in a carriage, which also bore the symbol of grapevines.
This was a convoy of dozens of carriages, escorted by two hundred cavalry.
Inside the carriages were Andals's characteristic sour wines, as well as some loaded barley, wheat, and other goods, which also demonstrated the Greenvine Family's unique financial power.
Aman's hair and beard were oiled, and he himself resembled a massive whale, seemingly crushing the carriage.
In his youth, he was a robust Andal warrior, but after indulging in wine and women, he had become a sickly, overweight man who neglected exercise.
"The rise and fall of the Greenvine Family rests on this single action." Aman Greenvine caressed the gem rings on his fingers; each of Aman's fingers was adorned with a gem ring, making him look like the most extravagant merchant prince.
"Is your plan too dangerous, Father?" Aman's eldest son, Jack Greenmantle, asked with a hint of worry.
"Although the Targaryen orphan is a fifteen-year-old boy, he has already proven his abilities on the battlefield, and many people support him."
Like all heirs under the wing of a strict father, the middle-aged Jack Greenmantle was now a mediocre man with unremarkable methods.
"What do you know, you fool?
The greater the danger, the greater the reward.
A teenager doesn't understand what a conspiracy is.
At his age, his wisdom and strategy should give way to romance and arrogance, which is why my letter was so sweet, and this young man took the bait…" Aman said smugly.
"I naturally know his bravery, but I am fully prepared."
"He will really come?" Jack asked.
"He will certainly return, our informant said so as well."
Inside the carriage was also a strong, hook-nosed man with rusty-colored hair, exuding a dangerous aura.
"I am ready to personally help Lord Aman kidnap the true dragon's descendant," the rusty-haired man said with a hoarse voice.
"Good, I'll leave the scene to you to control." Aman nodded; this was a highly paid Meereenese gladiator he had hired, quite dangerous, all for the sake of surprise.
As a backup, his second son also commanded a hired mercenary force that would rendezvous with them.
As long as that boy named Viserys came out of Viserysgrad to meet them by the Rhoyne River, this dangerous and highly profitable business would succeed.
Whether it was Viserys or the other two Targaryen girls, they could all be sold for a very good price.
More importantly, the andals, those frightened and terrified andals, who else could they rely on but their Greenvine Family?
"Father, I still don't understand," Jack shook his head.
"We are already very rich, why get involved in this mess?
Whether you side with the Tyrosh people or King Viserys, we can be greatly valued; there's no need to take such a risk."
"What do you know?" Aman scolded.
"Just thinking about that rash young man, an outsider, daring to call himself the King of the andals, fills me with rage.
Why isn't it our family, the holy and wealthy Greenvine Family?
And he offended people he shouldn't have offended; the Tyrosh people are very displeased with his actions this time, which is why we were able to hire a mercenary force at half price."
"But our reputation?"
"Reputation, hmph, this is a winner's game…"
"My lord, the welcoming party has arrived," a guard's voice came from outside the window.
Aman's relaxed nerves immediately tensed; the crucial moment was at hand.
"How many enemies are there?" Aman asked.
"Only seventy or eighty cavalry, my lord," the guard whispered.
"My plan has succeeded," Aman said with confidence.
Still on the west bank of the Upper Rhoyne River, a troop of cavalry quietly awaited the arrival of the Greenvine Family's supplies.
Viserys took a deep breath; he had already seen the Greenvine Family's carriage convoy.
Viserys flexed his wrist; beneath his black velvet, he wore a silver scale armor.
This deadly ceremony, it seemed, still required a suit of armor.
Viserys observed from horseback; the stage was set, and now it was time for the performance.
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