Giuyara, Yi Ti

314 AC

"They refused to sell their goods?"

Mao frowned. "That's what I said," he commented drily. "Does that not sound unusual to you? That a merchant caravan would outright refuse to sell their wares?"

Mormont shook his head. "Not really, no. Many magisters from the Free Cities don't sell their goods to just anyone, and it's much the same with many wealthy merchants in Westeros. Most of the time you've either got to know them personally, or meet them through a mutual contact," he felt that he was being too laudatory. It was bad manners. The YiTish hated being compared with the civilizations in the West, and particularly the Free Cities. "Admittedly, it might seem out of character for a simple tradesman to do so, but perhaps they were in a hurry."

"That is the point, Zūnjià." Mao jumped onto the offered olive branch. "Why were they in such a hurry to leave?" he said as he flipped open the report again. "It says here that a handful of caravans were stopped and searched at the border to Izohoruna. There is a town by the border called Jingsho, and it is quite wealthy. In Yi Ti, merchants are encouraged to sell their stock to the common man, as they would receive plenty of legal benefits."

"Like what for instance?" Mormont asked, sitting forward.

His host had spread his hands, "For example, they would receive tax benefits; we do not want inflation, so the distribution of goods at fair prices would be good for the continuation of our economy. Traveling merchants who follow this principle have their taxes lowered to a rather paltry sum-the cost of a few meals at most. And they may even be offered free shelter or food in the towns they stay in out of courtesy from the townsfolk."

Really? Mormont was beginning to see shades of the other man's point. IF the various roaming tradesmen would actually benefit from selling their goods outside of simply making more money, then what was the big deal?

What were they in such a hurry for?

"And this is only for merchants? Not even for farmers or miners?"

Mao shook his head. "We do not tax our people on income, Zūnjià. Neither in produce, nor in silver. The common man is the backbone of our society, thus he can work and govern his household freely, and is allowed to make as much coin as he pleases. The Kings and Lords of these respective provinces however, are a different matter, and it is the same with merchants." The older man elaborated further. "For a mercantile business, they are normally taxed on nine per cent of their quarterly income. If they travel frequently and distribute their goods while doing so, this tax can be lowered to a rather paltry four per cent."

Interesting… in that case, the peculiar behavior of this mysterious caravan certainly stuck out, much like a Lannister would in the Old Palace in Sunspear.

"I take it that pretty much every merchant still in business follows this principle then?" He asked.

"You would be correct in that assumption, Zūnjià."

Mormont immediately rose from his seat and went over to the grand table with the map of Yi Ti. Behind him, Mao had also stood up.

Izohoruna looked like a mishapen bell on the grand map that lay before him. It was one of the only provinces marked with a yellow-striped pin after all, and it was situated just below the huge valley where the Five Forts lay.

One… two… and three, he numbered off the small black dots along the borders of Izohoruna, and where the smaller roads cut into the province.

He looked at Mao, "Which one is Jingsho?" he asked staunchly.

"Here," The older man pointed out the dot on the southeastern border of Izohoruna. The highway leading through Jingsho had branched off from the northern end of the Silk Road, which itself led all the way from Yin and the Southern Provinces and straight to the Five Forts.

All around the split highway were various other black dots. Yet they were on unmarked terrain. It would take days to reach them alone, and especially for larger escorts. Probably through smaller throughways in the countryside.

What did this all mean, then? That they had a bunch of anti-social merchants on their hands? Unlikely.

Mormont thought back to the situation itself. A handful of escorts, around forty or so each, were stopped and searched at the border in a well-to-do town, that itself was fairly close to the Five Forts.

Mao said they were heading into Izohoruna, he recalled. Yet there was still a fairly long journey until they'd reach their destination.

What was their destination? Where were they going? Mormont decided that he needed more information.

He turned to Mao, "What goods do these sorts of merchants usually sell?"

"Silks, food, jade, paper," Mao rattled off the long list in his head, "Furs as well. The Northern Provinces are blistering cold, particularly toward the Five Forts and the Grey Wastes. Tea is also often purchased. Occasionally there is also livestock; the people of the north prefer to raise cattle, sheep, and horses."

Mormont nodded along. "And what did this caravan appear to have on offer? Or not, in this case."

"A herd of horses," The answer was immediate. "When searched, they also had plenty of precious stones, gold, and porcelain. And they had several shi worth of silk."

"Shee?"

"Shi, Zūnjià." Mao corrected his mispronunciation. "It is a unit of measuring weight. Much like your pounds and stone. A shi is roughly the equivalent of one-hundred-and-fifty of your pounds."

That's… quite a bit, Mormont thought to himself. Several shi, which was effectively around four hundred pounds or potentially more, was a lot of silk to have on hand. Too much to have not sold at the very least.

Where did they get that much silk? And why weren't they selling any of it? A large caravan of forty men would be a lot of mouths to feed. And even then, there was the herd of horses they had to take care of. It would've been beneficial for them to make some silver from their current stock and buy food and supplies with it.

This caravan being in a hurry was further called into question when it came to the horses. Sure, a herd of horses wouldn't be at home in a populated town, but regular stops would still need to be made so the horses could rest and recover. Supplies would need to be bought to keep them healthy and in-shape.

They've probably done this before, Mormont realized. These merchants had to have known that there were suitable water sources or grazing areas along the road.

"Who would need that much silk?" Mormont asked suddenly. "A lord perhaps?"

"It is possible," Mao shrugged, "But unlikely. Normally a merchant carries around one shi depending on the size of his escort. The fabric itself is most popular with the common people, and most Lords or Kings have it in abundance."

Mormont eyed the largest of the black dots in Izohoruna-the one in the center of the bell-shaped province. There were a few YiTish letters in bold underneath it, labeling it as the capital of the region. "What's this?"

"That is Serpent's Reach. It is where Tsai Na rules from," Mao elaborated. "His home sits atop a lone mountain, but below it, perhaps a mile away lays a village named Mosho."

Mosho… Serpent's Reach… Was that where these merchants were heading? Possible. "Did the merchants say where they were going?"

Mao nodded. "They claimed they were from the neighboring town, Kiyoya, on the western border of Izohoruna. They wished to return there and settle in for a time, as winter is often harsh in those parts, as I told you earlier."

Another glance at the highways on the map told him that in order to get to the western border, the caravan would first have to go through Mosho, and pass by Serpent's Reach. Of course! It was so bloody simple!

Mormont ran a hand down his face as he calculated the odds. Supposing that these merchants were in fact the Cult of Starry Wisdom in disguise… then lying about their ultimate destination would've been a natural reaction to questioning. They claimed they were from Izohoruna, had border passes which had Tsai Na's official seal, and said they were in a rush to get back to their homes and families. All of it might've been overlooked except for that last, outstandingly odd and backwards detail…

They refused to sell their wares.

Refused. That was a much stronger term than declined. They were adamant, perhaps even willing to get violent over the matter.

Any good traveling merchant would be well aware of the taxation benefits afforded to him. Even if he was in a hurry, the journey back to Kiyoya would still take several days, or even a week. There was literally zero reason to not sell his goods to any of the townsfolk in Jingsho and make some extra silver for both himself and his family.

Which means they've got something to hide.

The pieces snapped together instantly.

"Mao," Mormont said, looking over at the smaller man. "What if these merchants weren't heading back to Kiyoya. What if they lied, and instead were heading to Serpent's Reach?"

Those black-brown eyes had lit up with animation and conspiracy. "That would certainly raise plenty of questions, Zūnjia." Mao stepped away and began pacing the room. He seemed to be pondering the suggestion for a few moments, and then suddenly turned back around to face Mormont. "Are you saying that these caravans are linked the Cult of Starry Wisdom?"

"As you say, Mao, it is possible." Mormont said firmly, "They're hiding something. I don't know what it is, and for all I know they could be genuine. But this looks like a lead to me. They're even connected to Tsai Na, who you've already fingered as a suspect so far."

Mao nodded, but he didn't say anything. The older man simply let out a deep sigh as he looked into the roaring fireplace. Silence filled the gap between the two of them.

Mormont was left in the middle of it. Serpent's Reach… he thought to himself with a ghost of an amused smirk.

What an ominous-sounding name for the personal home of a lord… it sounded almost like a castle from Westeros. Or like it was some dastardly lair of an evil sorcerer right out of one of his mother's adventure novels.

Probably some truth to that, he thought mildly. This Yellow King was turning out to be a clever rat. Or snake in this case.

That ten percent of doubt from before had suddenly turned out to be a glaring red flag, a hidden viper in the sand waiting to strike if he, Mormont, got too close. If this caravan was heading for Serpent's Reach, and if they were actually cultists in disguise… then Tsai Na was implicated. The Cult of Starry Wisdom was on the move-they were in a rush to return to their headquarters.

But why?

He noticed Mao turning back to face him. "Alright then, Duncan. What is it you propose we do?"

Mormont had glanced over at the map in contemplation. That was a good question on Mao's part. What would they do moving forward?

It would've been easier, perhaps even simpler to wait on more reports from Mao's operatives. The merchants making up this curious caravan could've legitimately been in a hurry to get back to their homes after all.

But that would mean he'd have to continue sitting around on his ass for the forseeable future, and Mormont immediately hated such an idea. He was bored out of his wits sitting in Giuyara for the last few weeks alone.

No. Action needed to be taken. Perhaps the Cult of Starry Wisdom had gotten wise to the movements of Mao's operatives? Mao said that the Yellow King somehow had the abilities to tell the future, or something similarly ridiculous. Perhaps he had spies of his own keeping tabs on Mao and the YiTish authorities?

In any case, they needed to do something. And of course, Mormont felt compelled to overdeliver his end of the bargain he set with Mao.

"I'll head out to Izohoruna and investigate this caravan myself." He said firmly, "I can take along a team as well. And any of those explosives you've got on hand. If I'm right, and the Yellow King is up on that perch with Tsai Na, we'll mount up and carry out this operation you've got planned. If not, we'll break off and come back to Giuyara."

Mao seemed to reflect on his words for a moment. "Very well. I will have preparations moved forward. It is rather too soon for my liking, but it can be arranged." The older man seemed to be ruminating on something.

An uncomfortable feeling perhaps? A premonition of sorts? Mormont could see the gears turning behind those brown-black eyes. It was clear that Mao disliked the optics of the situation. There were far too many factors out of their control. Too many things that could go wrong. And on top of it all, they weren't even dead certain that Tsai Na was their man.

Briefly those same eyes glanced back at him. "Any resources you require will be provided for. However, Zūnjia, remember that we will not be calling upon strength in numbers. Stealth will be your primary weapon for this particular enterprise. How well can you climb?"

"Well enough," Mormont shrugged. "We had courses for that sort of thing back on Bear Island. And the weather shouldn't be a problem if it's going to be cold."

"It will be," Mao said sharply. "The Northern Provinces in the same region as the Five Forts are frigid even in the summer, though largely because of the close proximity to the Grey Wastes. The climb up the Serpent's Steppe will be a bitter one. You will go without fires, as they draw attention. And the climb itself will likely take one, perhaps two days. You will need to be acquainted with our standard climbing equipment. This is acceptable to you?"

"Of course," Mormont said. He'd signed up for all of this, so it was up to him to make a professional job out of it.

Stealth wouldn't have been his first choice. Mormont was almost over seven feet tall, with his shoulders nearly being as large as cannonballs. He was born and bred to be a warrior on the front lines, just like his father had in Robert's Rebellion.

Perhaps he'd get a chance to swing a sword later down the line. But first…

"What about the aftermath?" Mormont asked, "If the plan is to blow Serpent's Reach sky-high with the Chimera's Breath, then won't people ask questions about it?"

"It is not uncommon for many of the wealthier lords or kings to have procured their own explosives, Zūnjia. Many keeps and fortresses are outfitted with cannons, especially the Five Forts, though they do keep their bombs and black powder housed in a special quarry or building on the premises. And accidents like the one we are going to produce have happened before in the natural sense. Inquiries will be made, and investigations will take place. Tsai Na's true allegiances will be shown to the public. However, none of this will come to pass unless you find the Yellow King and his followers hiding in Serpent's Reach."

Mormont nodded his head. "Fair enough," he scratched the side of his face. "And if one of us gets caught? What happens then?"

"If a member of your team is captured, then the operation is to continue as planned. If you yourself are captured, then I trust you not to give anything away. Hold out as long as you can. Once the bombs are set off, the others will come to your aid."

Can't comprise anything, Duncan figured. It made sense. Likely was the same expectation for any other of Mao's operatives.

And that last bit… hold out as long as you can. What was that supposed to mean? Torture?

Without a doubt. The realization shouldn't have been so startling, as Mormont was well aware what these cultists got up to in their own time. Still, Mormont wasn't about to let that pesky little fear get to him. He steeled himself for what would come. In any case, he'd have to make do. And if he was caught somehow, then it was up to him to not give up any information that would implicate Mao.

This was no longer the cushy, comfortable life of high-class YiTish society. Very soon, he'd be entering into the guerrilla war between the YiTish authorities and the Cult of Starry Wisdom.

The moment he stepped out that door and back into the cream-colored halls of Royal House, the game would change. It was no longer cat and mouse, like it had been for the last seven moons with the Cult of Starry Wisdom.

It would be do or die.