The night was dark, but there was light in Suleiman's military tent.
Late at night is his unique time. Silence and solitude can make his thinking extremely clear, and the details of every plan are repeatedly considered late at night.
At this moment, he is calculating his expenses with a pen. He did not deceive Lyman. Lychester, he is really going bankrupt.
So he had to kill Hoster. Tully to benefit from the chaos, and he had been using his fire-bending ability to intimidate Hoster. Tully. That thing had no threatening ability, but it had an unexpected effect on the old man.
The curtain was gently opened, and Bryn walked in, his steps very low. "Sir, Lord Harrenhal, Lord Walter. Hean, please see me."
Suleiman's pen tip paused, leaving a black dot on the paper. He raised his head and raised his eyebrows slightly.
Walter. Hean It was interesting to see him late at night. Although he was a little suspicious, he nodded calmly.
"Invite him in."
After a while, Walter. Hean stooped and was helped into the tent by the guards.
The dim candlelight illuminated his face, and Suleiman was able to see the lord of the Riverlands great noble Harrenhal at close range.
He looked much older than he looked at the banquet. His skin was like a piece of parchment that had been dried for many years, covered with dark brown age spots and criss-crossing wrinkles. His eye sockets were sunken, and his cloudy eyeballs were rotating inside, as if they would go out at any time.
Suleiman was even worried for a moment that the old lord would be unable to breathe and die suddenly in his tent on the spot.
That would cause endless trouble.
Suleiman immediately signaled. "Sir Walter, please sit down."
A guard brought a chair and poured a glass of warm wine for the old man.
Suleiman didn't like to waste time on unnecessary politeness. He watched the old man sit down tremblingly and said directly, "Walter sir came to visit late at night. I wonder what the reason is?"
Walter. Hean did not answer immediately. His cloudy eyes first glanced at Suleiman, and then slowly moved to Bryn and another guard next to him. The meaning was self-evident.
Suleiman understood the situation and waved to Bryn and the guards. "You guys stay outside the tent and guard at a distance. No one is allowed to come near."
"Yes, sir." Bryn led the guards back out, and the heavy curtain fell, isolating the inside and outside.
Only Suleiman and the old man were left in the tent.
Suleiman put down his pen and looked at the old man and said, "You can speak now, Master Walter."
Walter. Hean cleared his dry throat and made a difficult voice. "Lymond. Lychester is a true hero."
He launched into a clichéd compliment.
"He is so brave and fearless, and has the glorious bloodline of House Lychester. His appearance is a gift from Seven to Riverlands who has been tortured by Ironborn."
"If it weren't for him...
Suleiman Hearing these empty flatteries, his brows furrowed slightly.
Seeing that the old man was minding his own business and planning to continue speaking, he interrupted the other person's chanting, "Sir, if you have something important, please explain it clearly.
"My time is valuable."
Walter. Hean was interrupted by a young boy. A trace of embarrassment flashed across his face, but he soon regained his composure.
His skinny body leaned forward slightly, moved closer, and said word by word in a voice that only the two of them could hear, "I'm here to save your life, young man."
Suleiman didn't show any expression of surprise. He seemed to have said this himself. This is a classic line and opening statement of a lobbyist.
He just calmly picked up his wine glass, brought the warm wine to his lips, and took a sip. His eyes did not waver at all, as if the other person just said that the night was so nice tonight.
Walter. Hean was a little surprised by Suleiman's calmness, but he didn't care.
He seemed to have found an outlet and continued speaking on his own, "Lymond. Lychester, Lord, has overstepped his authority and intends to get involved in the position of governor. This ambition has long been obvious Riverlands."
"We, the lords of East Riverlands, are willing to follow him because House Tully... owes us so much."
"But we also know that Master Lymond... with all due respect, he is a good man, but he is also a lunatic that everyone knows."
He paused, his cloudy eyes staring closely at Suleiman.
"For a lunatic to have such momentum and gather all of us here, there must be a conspirator behind it to promote everything."
"And such a conspirator, Hoster. Tully, who persuades vassals to betray their lords and plays tricks, will let him go?"
The old man's voice was filled with a kind of complacency that understood everything.
"Am I right, young man?"
Suleiman slowly put down the wine glass. The bottom of the glass came into contact with the wooden table and made a soft sound. He smiled, but there was no warmth in his smile.
His voice was soft but cold. "This is just a simple truth known to the world."
"If you come here late at night just to give me a political enlightenment lesson, then I think you can leave."
He stretched out his hand, made a gesture of invitation, and issued an order to expel the guest without ceremony.
The air inside the tent instantly dropped to freezing point.
Walter. Hean sat stiffly on the chair, the skin on his face twitched a few times, as if he was angered by Suleiman's rudeness.
But he didn't move.
After a long time, he let out a long sigh, which contained the flavor of nostalgia and the past.
He spoke slowly and his voice became deeper, "I'm not here to tell you your death."
"I'm here to show you a way to live, a way... to true glory."
Suleiman's eyes fell back on him, without saying anything, waiting for his next words.
Walter. Hean's eyes drifted towards the flickering candlelight, as if falling into a distant memory. "I'm here to atone for my sins."
"Atonement for the crimes I committed many years ago in a False Spring."
He suddenly turned his gaze back and locked it on Suleiman again.
"Lymond. Lychester is just a puppet, isn't it?"
"You and I know very well that he is your puppet, a ladder for you to use to climb to a high position."
"Maybe he can make you climb very high, but his height only stops at Riverlands."
"He may be able to become the governor, but the most you can do is get some land and wealth from this madman controlled by you."
There was a strange bewitching power in the old man's voice.
"But what if we changed our allegiances?"
"A... greater object than Tully, greater than Lychester."
Suleiman's expression remained unchanged. He guessed what the other party was going to say.
Walter. Hean's skinny hands were clasped in front of her, and her knuckles were white from exertion.
After a long time, he continued, "On the other side of the Narrow Sea, the bloodline of the true dragon has not been cut off."
"Seven Kingdoms The true king, Viserys III, is waiting for his loyal ministers at Essos to take back for him everything that should belong to him."
"Take back his Iron Throne!!!"
The old man almost roared out the last few words, with a fanatical light shining in his cloudy eyes.
He stared at Suleiman, like the most devout believer preaching.
"Young man!"
"You risk your life, and in the end you can win the favor of Governor Riverlands at most, and get some land and titles.
"For House Foulkeep, who comes from a humble and dirty background, this may already be a great gift."
Walter. Hean's voice trembled, and he stood up, his old body filled with uncontrollable excitement.
"But if you serve the true dragon, plant the flag of the three-headed dragon on this land again, and welcome the return of the true king...
"You will receive glory and power that you can't even imagine now!!!!"
"You will be the kingmaker! The hero who assists the true dragon in regaining the throne! Your family! Will become one of the most prominent families on the Westeros Continent!"
There was dead silence in the tent, except for the old man's heavy breathing, waiting for Suleiman's reaction.
Suleiman looked at the old man in front of him who was flushed with excitement and on the verge of suffocation, and smiled.
He spoke, his voice calm and clear. "Real dragon?"
"How many soldiers does the real dragon have?"