The acute gastrointestinal disease came on like a gust of wind, taking only one night to bring down the elderly man who had managed the kingdom for King Robert for many years.
Maester Colemon from the Eyrie was the first physician to diagnose the old Hand.
He suspected poisoning, but claimed that the old Hand suffered from stomach problems and often added ice to his wine, which affected his stomach.
He gave Lord Arryn a purgative and a pepper potion, intending to make him vomit out the toxins.
However, Lord Jon's condition continued to deteriorate. He burned with a severe fever and couldn't speak clearly.
People from the Hand's Tower then rushed to fetch Grand Maester Pycelle, but after examining him, the Grand Maester only brought back sad news. The Grand Maester said he was powerless and that the Hand was beyond recovery.
He suggested giving him milk of the poppy at the end to ease his suffering.
Lady Lysa did not believe this and obstructed them for a long time.
She desperately pleaded with the Grand Maester to save her husband, and later even harshly questioned them on why they were not saving him.
In his final feverish moments, the old Hand repeatedly called out the name "Robert." People wanted Robert Arryn to accompany his father, but Lady Lysa refused to let the child into the sickroom, fearing he might catch the illness.
In the end, it was King Robert himself who stayed by the old Hand's side. Hearing the news, King Robert hurried over and sat by the sickbed for a long time, talking to Lord Jon about the good old days, hoping to lift his spirits. But the sudden illness was like a raging fire, and the king could only watch as it consumed Lord Jon's life.
When Grand Maester Pycelle suggested giving the old Hand milk of the poppy a second time to ease his suffering, no one opposed him.
In his final moments, the old Hand desperately tried to say something. He said, "The seed is strong," but his fevered words were slurred and unclear, making it hard to understand his meaning.
The old Hand did not survive past the next morning.
The only consolation was that the Hand of the King had calmed down after drinking the milk of the poppy. Grand Maester Pycelle assured the king that he had died peacefully.
The old Hand's funeral was held with great solemnity at the Great Sept of Baelor. From the king on down, everyone was deeply saddened by his sudden death.
The funeral was conducted on behalf of the king because, the day after the old Hand died, Lady Lysa took her son Robert Arryn and left King's Landing without notifying anyone, returning to the Vale.
All the courtiers and the nobility of the Crownlands attended the grand funeral—except for the Master of Ships, Stannis Baratheon.
He had disappeared on the night the old Hand fell ill and did not attend the small council meeting called by the king the next day. The king could not find him, nor did he want to.
No one cared about these two insignificant matters.
But when everyone was anticipating whom the king would appoint as the new Hand, the king surprised everyone by announcing his plans to travel north to visit Winterfell.
When the news reached Illyrio across the Narrow Sea, the fat magister was so shocked he nearly dropped his cup.
He was caught off guard by the sudden changes in the Seven Kingdoms and the unexpected death of the old Hand.
Varys's letter suggested that there was more to the conspiracy than met the eye.
Even he had not figured out who was behind the poisoning of the old Hand.
He had caught wind of it and tried to prevent it but failed. He had a few suspects, but sharing them with Illyrio in the letter was pointless.
Everything had already happened, and they had to go with the flow.
Varys believed that the suddenness of the situation meant the Beggar King and his backers were also caught off guard.
Illyrio needed to seize the opportunity to find out more about the Beggar King's true situation—knowing only one-way contact methods was far from enough.
The old Hand's unexpected death and King Robert's decision to travel north were unforeseen. The more complex the situation became, the more they needed to stay calm, focus on their tasks, and wait for the right moment.
Illyrio did not read the letter a second time before burning it.
Frowning in thought, he digested the information while considering how to convey it to "Griffin" and what their reaction would be, as well as what the "Beggar King's" response might be. News from Pentos about Westeros was usually delayed; for instance, Illyrio's sources were days or even a week ahead of the actual rumors reaching Pentos.
Currently, discussions at the port of Pentos were still focused on the "Knight of Flowers," Loras Tyrell, from the Tyrell family. He had defeated the "Kingslayer," Jaime Lannister, at Prince Joffrey's name day tourney to become the champion.
Loras had recently become a notable figure among the sailors traveling between the Seven Kingdoms. His youthful bravery and handsome looks were widely talked about by these sailors, making him well-known in the port of Pentos.
As it happened, Viserys learned of the death of the old Hand, Jon Arryn, on the same day as the Warden of the North, Lord Stark, perhaps even a little earlier.
"Today, I received shocking news, Your Grace. I did not want to disturb you late at night," Illyrio said, informing Viserys the day before the first sailors who knew of the upheaval in the Seven Kingdoms were expected to arrive. The fat magister had come in person, shooing away Viserys's handmaid, Ania, before speaking. "Jon Arryn is dead."
"Who?" Viserys's face showed exaggerated surprise, as if he had not heard correctly.
Illyrio's expression was serious. "Jon Arryn. The Hand of the Usurper, the Hand of the King of the Seven Kingdoms, Jon Arryn."
Viserys's face broke into an excited, flamboyant smile. "Jon Arryn? He's dead?!" He seemed incredulous at the sudden good news and sought confirmation from Illyrio. "Is this news certain?"
"My subordinates told me personally. As soon as they heard the news in King's Landing, they immediately drove an empty ship loaded only with ballast back to the port of Pentos," Illyrio, well-prepared, handed over a scroll of paper with scrawled common script from the Seven Kingdoms. "Here is the obituary they transcribed, Your Grace."
Viserys's hands were trembling as he took the paper. He read it over and over again, his fingers dampening the parchment with sweat. "Where are they, your subordinates, Illyrio?"
"I arranged for them to rest at the port. I didn't bring them here," Illyrio replied.
Viserys's breath quickened. "Reward them, give them a heavy reward!"
"Your Grace, I have given them gold as agreed. What else would you like to reward them with?"
Viserys looked around him. "I have nothing at hand right now, Illyrio. Give them each double the payment. Charge it to me, along with those dragon bones. I'll repay you all at once in the future."
"Yes, Your Grace," Illyrio readily agreed. "Is there anything else you need me to do?"
"Illyrio, I've told you I've been biding my time, waiting for the right moment. Now, the moment has come." Viserys was full of spirit. "I just didn't expect it to be so soon. Truly, the gods have opened their eyes!"
Illyrio eagerly asked, "What can I do for you, Your Grace?"
"What can you do..." This question made Viserys pause. He slightly restrained his gleeful expression and asked seriously and urgently, "Are there any rumors circulating in the Seven Kingdoms, Illyrio?"
"What kind of rumors?" Illyrio asked.
"Well? The one I told you about," Viserys said with a serious expression.
"Uh, well... I'm afraid there are no such rumors," Illyrio replied. "Perhaps the news from the Seven Kingdoms hasn't reached here yet. After all, there's the Narrow Sea between us, Your Grace."
"Make sure your men within the Seven Kingdoms keep an eye on such matters, Illyrio," Viserys said seriously. "It's very important."
"Yes, Your Grace."
Viserys thought for a moment, then asked, "Has anyone inquired about the dragonbone pendant I asked you to put up for sale?"
"Well, there was someone," Illyrio said, looking somewhat awkward.
"Oh?" Viserys showed keen interest.
"A collector thought the blackened silver chain on the pendant was some kind of new material. After finding out the truth, he called us swindlers, Your Grace," Illyrio replied calmly.
"..." Viserys was momentarily speechless. "And besides that?"
"Besides that, there's been nothing, Your Grace."
"Alright then," Viserys said, looking somewhat uneasy. "If anyone inquires again, make sure to inform me immediately."
"Yes," Illyrio said, looking as if he would never refuse any of Viserys's orders.
Viserys suddenly fell silent, staring at Illyrio as if deep in thought.
Illyrio waited quietly.
Finally, Viserys spoke: "Besides that, prepare a ship for me."
Illyrio asked with concern, "Your Grace, what are you planning?"
Viserys did not respond to the fat governor's question. With a serious expression and unprecedented solemnity, he looked at Illyrio and said, "By the gods, I ask you, Illyrio, I am now a king without anything. If I ask you to fulfill the duties of the Master of Coin right now, would you be willing?"
Illyrio's expression became enthusiastic: "It is my honor that Your Grace trusts me and calls upon me."
"Good. I did not misjudge you." Viserys's eyes glimmered with tears. He gave Illyrio a new title, saying, "My Master of Coin."
Illyrio gladly accepted the title and eagerly asked, "Your Grace, what do you want me to do?"
Viserys sniffed, as if controlling his emotions. He paused for a moment before saying, "Before that, I must tell you something, my Master of Coin. You previously asked me, when the time comes, where will my army come from. Now, I will tell you that I have made arrangements with a lord within the Seven Kingdoms. He will provide troops to help me reclaim my throne. I'm sorry, I cannot tell you who he is without his consent. But rest assured, we have planned everything."
"Hiss~" Illyrio's shock was evident. "Your Grace, you... you confide such an important matter to me. I am truly... deeply shocked..."
"My Master of Coin," Viserys placed a hand on his shoulder, indicating he should calm down. "I tell you this to put your mind at ease and to ensure that when you handle matters for me, you do so with greater confidence."
Illyrio, overwhelmed, asked, "What do you want me to do, Your Grace?"
"My Master of Coin," Viserys stated his request, "I want you to head north to Braavos, and secretly seek a loan from the Iron Bank in my name, as King Viserys III. Go to Braavos, go to Norvos, go to Qohor, and seek out bankers and merchants whom you trust to lend us money."
Hearing such a task, Illyrio quickly responded, "If it's money you need, Your Grace, I have some personal wealth."
Viserys had a ready answer: "No, even though you are my Master of Coin, a king should not recklessly squander his subject's personal wealth. Besides, this is not entirely about money. If they are willing to lend, that's great; if not, it doesn't matter."
Illyrio expressed his confusion: "What do you mean?"
"Your real objective," Viserys explained, "is to subtly spread that rumor while you ask for loans. Remember? 'The three heirs to throne.'"
Illyrio finally showed his shock: "Your Grace, isn't this too aggressive?"
"My Master of Coin, this strategy is called, 'A new song of the Seven Kingdoms, sung both within and beyond the borders.'" Viserys said, "Do you understand?"
'But what if there are no voices within the realm? If chaos doesn't arise, wouldn't we just become clowns and targets abroad?'
Illyrio doubted. No, he was certain. The beggar king beside him had no idea how sudden and unexpected the Hand of the King's death was. The beggar king mistakenly believed this was the right time and had not even considered consulting with the Dornish before starting to act according to their plan, which had been drafted who knows when.
The execution was there, but the brains seemed a bit lacking...
"Your Grace... shouldn't we first touch base with the lord you mentioned?"
Viserys's face hardened: "Are you unwilling?"
"Of course, I am willing," Illyrio forced a smile. "By the way, Your Grace, you mentioned before that I should arrange a ship for you."
"Yes, that's right, prepare a ship for me," Viserys said. "While you head north, I will go south to Myr, Tyrosh, and Lys to seek loans from their governors, princes, and wealthy merchants. Of course, borrowing money is just a pretense; my real mission is to secretly spread that rumor."
Illyrio was unsure how to respond and found it somewhat amusing. He asked, "What about Pentos, Your Grace?"
Viserys replied, "This is your homeland, and if the usurper's people come to investigate, it wouldn't be good if you were exposed. This would put you at risk."
'You're actually quite considerate.' Illyrio almost wanted to laugh. 'How exactly do you plan to 'secretly' accomplish this grand plan in other cities without exposing yourself?'
While Illyrio was silently baffled, the beggar king continued envisioning his successful outcome: "We will meet in Volantis, my Master of Coin. 'We.'"
He hinted that when they arrived in Volantis, the lord who supported him would also appear.
The corpulent governor opened his mouth but felt that, having just gained Viserys's trust, it was not the right time to upset him in his moment of enthusiasm. So he said:
"Yes, Your Grace."