"House Rogare?" A flash of realization struck Rhaegar. It was the family of Queen Lara, King Viserys's wife, whose power once spanned two continents.
Barristan, Brynden, Joffrey Arryn, Ser Thalassar, and the others all had some impression of the name. They came from noble Lords; Barristan, before he became the White Knight, was even the heir to Harvest Hall. They all had a deep impression of the Spring of Lys and the great power of House Rogare back then.
The Great Lysandro proclaimed himself the First Archon of Lys. His son-in-law, Viserys, was a Prince of Westeros, and his brother was the consort of the Princess of Dorne. This formidable power ultimately melted away like an iceberg immediately after Lysandro's death.
Tall trees catch the wind; House Rogare had offended too many people. The Lysene hated them for monopolizing positions, the Braavosi hated them for stealing business, and the Westerosi hated them for worshipping false gods.
Hearing the name of House Rogare, Lysandro's eyes grew even dimmer. His beautiful golden hair and blue eyes only made him appear more tormented.
The Great House Rogare, the Great Lysandro, the First Archon of Lys—were the glorious achievements of his ancestors perhaps nothing more than a dream?
"Who sent you to Dragonstone, and be specific?" Rhaegar asked, while signaling his attendant to loosen Lysandro's restraints. The youth hadn't attempted to attack just now, and Rhaegar hadn't sensed any danger.
"The Red Comet streaked across the sky, and the entire Free Cities saw it. Many Red Priests or Warlocks say magic is returning, and some Red Priests say it's because the magic dragons have revived. Westeros is where most dragon eggs are found, perhaps a small dragon was born on Dragonstone, or perhaps in the Red Keep in King's Landing. Great Prince, we bought our information at the Perfume Garden. A client there was paying a high price, and we accepted the mission there. But Dragon Mountain is truly too difficult to cross, especially inside the caves where there are sulfurous smoke, high temperatures, and foul smells."
"As for who the boss is, that's not very clear. Perhaps some wealthy merchant in Lys, maybe an Archon, or perhaps a traveler visiting Lys," Lysandro said.
That was true, Rhaegar understood. Many Warlocks or Red Priests, having sensed the magic tide, certainly knew that the magic dragons were stirring again. As the news spread, many adventurers in the Free Cities were willing to take the risk.
—Why Dragonstone and not King's Landing? Because King's Landing is too heavily infiltrated. The Free Cities have merchants and envoys there, and they know the information regarding King's Landing like the back of their hands.
Barristan and the others also looked at Rhaegar. The Red Comet had arrived; would the magic dragons truly rise again?
"What House Rogare nonsense! You're nothing but a bastard born to a sailor and a whore, using the Rogare name! House Rogare died out ages ago! If it weren't for me, you'd have starved to death, or been a bed slave, or played a clown in a circus, providing lewd services to patrons!" Gantos cursed frantically.
Gantos hated Rhaegar, but he hated Lysandro even more—this young man he had personally trained, only to be betrayed by him. Perhaps this was the fate of thieves in Lys: every Quickfinger would eliminate the previous Quickfinger. He should have gotten rid of this brat earlier and replaced him.
"Give this boy a sword!" Rhaegar said.
No one questioned the Prince's decision. Joffrey Arryn ordered someone to untie the youth Lysandro and hand him a sword.
"Thank you, Prince, but I'd prefer to use my own weapon," Lysandro said.
Rhaegar had someone search for it. It was a slender dagger that Lysandro had previously hidden in his sleeve.
Lysandro walked up to Gantos. "I committed a hundred thefts for you, whether of valuables or information, and I only failed five times, but I was never exposed. Out of those hundred thefts, five times I was seriously injured, three times I faced mortal danger, and today is the fourth. I earned enough money for you and extended the Quickfinger reputation for you. What I owed you, I have repaid." The golden-haired Lysandro's face was filled with determination as he picked up the dagger and approached Gantos.
The bright blade flowed like a clear spring, its flashing light terrifying Gantos to the core.
Lysandro's eyes gradually brightened. "Now, it's your turn to repay me. I told you I don't like anyone insulting my father and mother. I told you I don't like you threatening me, especially threatening to send me to the Perfume Garden. That is House Rogare's wealth, and sooner or later, I will reclaim it."
The dagger flashed, and Gantos's throat was violently slit by Lysandro, hot blood splashing onto Lysandro's face. Gantos was so terrified he wet himself; both hot fluid and hot blood flowed out.
Ser Joffrey waved his hand, signaling the others to deal with the situation.
After killing Gantos, Lysandro looked bewildered. Gantos was his boss, his master, and his enemy. But without this man, he truly would have been a piece of drifting duckweed in Lys.
"You are free," Rhaegar said. For the sake of House Rogare, he would spare the youth. It was like seeing children who were kidnapped and then forced into theft, fraud, and begging, their lives warped forever.
"Prince, aren't you going to demand my loyalty?" Lysandro asked in surprise. As a thief, his mind was accustomed to working for money; Rhaegar releasing him was a great kindness that was truly hard to repay.
"How many people are in your gang?" Rhaegar asked.
"There are about a dozen people," Lysandro answered awkwardly. "Gantos was the previous Quickfinger, the boss, who assigned us tasks and liaised with the clients. The rest are a few bodyguards he bought from the arena. There are also many children; those quick with their hands steal things, and the most skilled will become the next Quickfinger. Those who aren't quick enough are sold by Gantos to brothels or forced to beg."
Everyone around them laughed. That small number of people was certainly negligible.
Westerosi and Lysene people didn't necessarily see eye-to-eye. The Lysene worshipped the Goddess of Love and Lust; they weren't true warriors but a bunch of petty thieves and rogues. Generalizations exist everywhere, and people looked down on each other.
"It's not necessary, Lysandro. I hope you can also become the Great Lysandro. We will prepare some money for you. You can return to Lys, or go to Braavos, Myr, or anywhere else in Westeros." Rhaegar patted Lysandro's shoulder.
A quiet, overlooked piece—perhaps this pawn would be more helpful to him in the Free Cities. But Rhaegar did not force the issue.
"I won't go to Braavos, nor Myr. I will return to Lys; that is my home. Gantos is dead, and I am the unique Quickfinger, uncontrolled by the Lysene. I hate the Braavosi. Legend says their Faceless Men killed our family's ancestor because he proclaimed himself the First Archon, and the Rogare Bank was so large and powerful it overshadowed the Iron Bank. After our ancestor Lysandro died, those thieves confiscated the Perfume Garden and all the wealth of our family." Lysandro's eyes held the light of hatred. He didn't know the exact source of the enmity, only that the hatred was passed down through generations.
The Free Cities and Westeros operate under completely different models. Power is difficult to inherit and carries great instability.
Even figures as esteemed as the Sealord of Braavos or an Archon of Lys might see their sons end up on the streets. One system is a monarchy, the other is an election of Archons; it's impossible for one Archon to govern for a long period. To contest the right to election, the Lysene also engage in bloody assassination and political maneuvering.
The instability of power means the Free Cities and Westeros are two sides of the same coin—each has its own difficulties, making mutual annexation impossible.
"Good luck," Rhaegar said, looking at Lysandro. His appearance was still immature, but he was already tormented by a life of gloom.
An enemy's enemy is a friend. Rhaegar didn't trust the moneylenders of Braavos, and neither did Lysandro.
But upon returning to Lys, Lysandro had failed his mission and his boss Gantos was dead. How he would face the gang and Gantos's old patrons was Lysandro's own problem now.
The night was still deep, and perhaps other spies and informants lurked in the vast darkness.
Rhaegar instructed his attendants to continue guarding, but there were no "big fish," mostly just down-and-out individuals trying their luck.
Rhaegar kept Lysandro for a few more days until he had completely calmed down and stated he wanted to return to Lys.
Rhaegar quietly instructed Cesar to prepare some extra funds for Lysandro. Whether Lysandro would rise to prominence or die in the slums after returning to Lys was up to the boy's own fate. Rhaegar's reach did not yet extend to Lys.
New letters from King's Landing also arrived. The King had tentatively selected several young noble youths or boys to serve Rhaegar as companions and squires.
The two most familiar names were one from House Clinton of Vulture's Nest and one from House Mollen of Maidenpool.