Littlefinger noticed the tall youth opposite him and almost thought Renly had appeared here. But a closer look revealed a few differences. Though the youth was handsome too, his jaw was broader and his eyebrows thicker.
The short-haired youth before him was lean, capable, and powerfully built, unlike the slender, elegant Renly. Gendry had broad shoulders and the strong arms typical of a blacksmith. He had supposedly worked at a forge once, so that was only natural. Gendry looked like a warrior, not a noble young lord.
"What brings you here?" Gendry had not spoken. A white-haired old man beside him spoke first.
"I bring gold, fine wine, and a father's affection." Littlefinger raised his voice. "The king will grant you a fief near the Blackwater Rush in the Crownlands, along with a title!"
Laughter rose within the tent. Such a paltry reward could easily be taken as an insult.
"And the conditions?" Gendry silenced some of the laughter and let Littlefinger continue.
"Handing over both Viserys and Daenerys would certainly put the Commander-in-Chief in a difficult position. But choosing just one would not damage your reputation, and it would also improve the Iron Throne's opinion of you. I hear Tyrosh and Lys are gathering sellswords. You could use a few more friends, Commander-in-Chief!"
"The Iron Throne's terms are so generous that I must refuse!"
Littlefinger was not surprised. It had gone exactly as expected. Negotiations required leverage, and he had brought too few cards to the table to bargain at all.
That hardly matters, Littlefinger thought. Once the scandals in King's Landing came to light, the Mercenary King across the Narrow Sea would be drawn into them too.
"Why didn't Jon Arryn come?" Gendry asked Littlefinger.
"The Lord Hand bears the weight of the Seven Kingdoms, and he is old and frail besides. As his faithful servant, I took on this responsibility!" Littlefinger hesitated, unsure why Gendry had brought him up.
"You live up to your name, Littlefinger. Such a silver tongue. Truly captivating! Why not stay here with me for a few days? I need a Master of Coin, and I hear you are an expert at making gold breed more gold!"
"Commander-in-Chief, this-!"
"Are you refusing my kindness, Lord Petyr?" Gendry rose and looked at Littlefinger.
Littlefinger felt a chill descend. Those burly officers and cold-eyed Unsullied guards were all watching him. His influence and connections lay in the Vale and King's Landing. If he were truly abducted and kept across the Narrow Sea, it would be a disaster.
"Your Highness, thank you for your kindness! But your good father, King Robert, still needs my zeal and loyalty. I remain his Master of Coin!"
"I see. You truly are a good servant of King Robert!"
"Jorah, why don't you give Lord Petyr a gift?"
Jorah strode over roughly and seized Littlefinger. His guards, all drawn from the Red Keep or the King's Landing garrison, were subdued outside the tent at the same time.
Littlefinger was brought beside three enormous trebuchets. They had not been needed to bombard Myr and were presumably being saved for Tyrosh.
"In the past, these were called the Three Whores of Myr!" Jorah explained.
"What are you doing? I came to negotiate peace!" Littlefinger cried as the Wolf Pack Soldiers bound him and placed him on one side of a trebuchet.
The enormous trebuchet began to rumble, its sound as cold as steel.
"Don't joke like this, Commander-in-Chief!" Littlefinger screamed himself hoarse, but the trebuchet kept moving. Even after he had been lifted to a considerable height, it showed no sign of stopping.
Tears rolled down Littlefinger's face. He felt the despair of impending death, just as he had years ago when Wild Wolf stabbed him. He felt as though he were rising into the clouds and would become a heap of mangled flesh an instant later. Reason was useless against brute force; no scheme could be trusted in the face of overwhelming might. This was not King's Landing, with its endless court intrigue.
Take your opponent seriously! Littlefinger thought. This is a new player who wants to overturn everything, not someone I know well like those people in King's Landing!
"King's Landing-there is terrible news from King's Landing. Jon Arryn is dying! Commander-in-Chief, I beg your forgiveness. This intelligence should make amends for my arrogance!" Trembling all over, Littlefinger was brought back into the tent. Only the Unsullied and Gendry remained inside now.
"I had already guessed that news. Still, you seem quite loyal in my presence!" Gendry looked at Littlefinger, his voice like a demon's whisper.
"Poor Jon!" With two villains like Littlefinger and Lady Lysa at Jon's side, neither gods nor ghosts could save him. With the Hand's death, King's Landing would soon erupt.
Jon was a loyal servant of Robert, but not of Gendry. Had Gendry not been lucky enough to survive, Jon would have shown little reaction to Cersei killing a bastard. Everything was for the greater good-the greater good as the Hand saw it.
"I have no intention of meddling in all your maneuvering in King's Landing! But this is the Wolf Pack!"
"Yes! Yes!"
Chapter 66: The death of Jon Arryn
"Duke Jon is dying!" Gendry looked at the map on his desk.
Qyburn's face twisted, and he spread his hands. "For an elderly man who has struggled to hold a kingdom together, old Jon has lived to quite a ripe age!"
"Duke Jon's death is not simply a matter of old age!" Gendry said cryptically, without revealing much more of the inside story. Duke Jon had effectively been destroyed by that pair of scoundrels, Lady Lysa and Littlefinger.
"Chaos may soon come to Westeros!" Qyburn said with certainty. "All these years, King Robert has indulged in women and wine, while Queen Cersei has arrogantly amassed power. Only old Jon has struggled to hold everything together! Once the Hand dies, the king will be utterly lost. He will need someone to clean up his mess and keep him supplied with food, drink, and amusement. He will have no attention to spare for us!"
To be frank, Gendry bore Duke Jon no ill will. But as the architect of House Baratheon's rule, Jon Arryn had not resolved the dynasty's troubles. He had only delayed them.
There was little he could do. The new dynasty was not that powerful, and its king was a drunkard who frequented brothels. The Lannister queen was vicious and arrogant, expanding her influence in King's Landing. Meanwhile, the king could not trust his two brothers.
"I believe the only man King Robert can trust now is Duke Eddard!" Handsome Man answered firmly.
"The Wolf Pack is across the Narrow Sea. Did you follow the politics of Westeros before this too?" Qyburn asked Handsome Man.
"The Narrow Sea is not so wide, and the North is the Wolf Pack's homeland. We have always paid some attention to news of House Stark!
"But we crossed the Narrow Sea long ago to earn our living. Northern blood runs through the Wolf Pack's veins, but we are no longer vassals of House Stark! During the War of the Usurper, when the northerners marched south for vengeance, the Wolf Pack Company's Commander-in-Chief at the time did not order us to join them."
"Good!" Gendry motioned for Handsome Man to continue.
"The core of the War of the Usurper was the deer, the falcon, the fish, and the wolf. Duke Eddard and King Robert were Duke Jon's wards. Lord Hoster married his two daughters to Duke Jon and Duke Eddard, and afterward Duke Jon arranged the king's marriage to a Lannister.
"Now Duke Jon is dying, and Lord Hoster is sickly. Lord Tywin also has the standing for the position, but surely King Robert would not be foolish enough to let House Lannister control King's Landing completely! Oh, and there is the stern Stannis, but unfortunately the king does not trust his brother."
"Once Duke Jon dies, it seems the direwolf will enter the game too!" Gendry felt as though the gears of fate were turning. The game of thrones was about to begin.
"Let them make a mess of Westeros! If we put pressure on them, those splintering factions might band together again!"
"Duke Jon's death will give us our chance!" Handsome Man answered, though he did not want the other two to misunderstand his meaning. "Not to wage war against the Iron Throne, but to attack Tyrosh!"
"It is a good opportunity. Tyrosh is still counting on support from Lys, Volantis, and the Iron Throne." The Wolf Pack's fleet stretched from the Stepstones to Myr Bay. Tyrosh, occupying one of the Stepstones' major islands, had to be taken out as well.
"Tyrosh must hand over the Myrish warships and governors who fled there! Otherwise, this means war!"
"King's Landing will certainly be thrown into turmoil by the Hand's death, but will Pentos, Lys, and Volantis still intervene? And what about Braavos, the strongest of them all?"
"Braavos opposes slavery, Lys and Volantis are slow to make decisions, and Pentos has money but no manpower! Our window will close in a flash!"
The fleet from across the Narrow Sea would not come. Gendry was anticipating the pressure that expansion into Tyrosh would bring.
"We must meet the various envoys and stall them!"
Jon Arryn's coffin lay in the throne room of the Red Keep. The deceased had been around eighty, perhaps the oldest Hand of the King.
Four White Knights stood on either side. It was an honor, though the old man could no longer see it.
Jon had blue eyes, blond hair, and a hooked nose, but nearly all his teeth had fallen out. He had already lost half of them when he married Lysa Tully.
This old man had rendered immense service in establishing House Baratheon's rule. His death was a tremendous blow to both the king and the entire realm.
Before Duke Jon died, he had repeatedly cried out "Robert" and spoken his final words, "The seed is strong," over and over to his wife, Lysa Tully, and King Robert. Soon his speech became slurred, and he died the following morning.
"My dear foster father, how I wish you could come back to life! We could talk and drink together. Perhaps I should have spent more time with you!" King Robert looked at his foster father's corpse.
"Robert! Robert! Jon was speaking of my Robin before he died, Your Grace!" Lady Lysa told the king in a frantic voice. "He will grow up healthy and inherit the Eyrie!"
"My lady! Your sweet Robin is to inherit the Eyrie. I think it would be better for him to go to the Westerlands and become Lord Tywin's ward!" Robert suggested. "Lord Tywin has never taken a ward before. You should feel honored."
"My sweet Robin cannot leave me! No one can take him!" Lysa shouted. Her shrieking ruined the king's mood completely. "King's Landing is full of wicked people. They killed my Jon."
Madwoman! Jon died because he could not bear her any longer! King Robert thought.
"The True Dragon remnants across the Narrow Sea, choosing a Hand of the King! Gods, how I wish you could come back to life and help your poor foster son!" Looking at Duke Jon's corpse, King Robert felt miserable.
"Your Grace, Duke Jon's death is painful indeed, but the most pressing matter is still to choose a Hand of the King!" Varys said in a cloyingly sweet voice.
Yes! That is crucial indeed! King Robert thought. He rarely attended the Small Council and had relied on Jon for so long, leaving everything in his hands. Now he had to make the choice himself.
But the Hand wielded great power, and finding someone both loyal and dependable was difficult. His relationship with Stannis was unremarkable, and Hoster was ill. Prince Doran bore King's Landing a blood feud. As for Lord Tywin, he was far too arrogant!
"Eddard!" King Robert's thoughts turned to his time in the Eyrie and someone he could trust. Robert intended to have Eddard govern the realm and lead its armies. As for himself? He would eat, drink, and make merry to his heart's content, and indulge in as many whores as he pleased.
"Your Grace!" Robert saw the blond woman dressed in red: Queen Cersei. Her relationship with Duke Jon had been no more than ordinary, so her appearance now was rather surprising.
"I have come to mourn the passing of a Hand. With the realm in such difficulty, I believe you need a strong and loyal Hand!" Cersei proposed. "In both ability and loyalty, my father, Lord Tywin, is fully qualified!"
"Enough, woman! I am the king, and I have my own plans!" King Robert shouted angrily. "With my warhammer in hand, I can win anything!"
"Very well! Your bastard and the Targaryen remnants caused this trouble. You can resolve it yourself!"
Chapter 67: A new age of chaos
The year 298 of the Conquest Calendar marked the beginning of a new age.
The two major events at the beginning of that year were the rise of a new power across the Narrow Sea and the death of Jon Arryn, who had governed Westeros as Hand for fifteen years.
After Jon Arryn's death, the old Hand's wife, Lysa Tully, fled back to the Vale overnight with her son, Robert Arryn. Stannis, the Master of Ships, also fled to his own seat of Dragonstone.
King Robert neither understood why the two had fled nor could do anything about it, for he truly paid little attention to politics in King's Landing. The Red Keep, the court, and the Gold Cloaks had been infiltrated until they were riddled with holes.
In the Hall of Heroes at Casterly Rock in the Westerlands, Lord Tywin strolled with his brother, Ser Kevan.
The hall displayed the treasured armor of more than a hundred knights, lords, and kings of House Lannister. The Hall of Heroes was famous throughout the Seven Kingdoms and even across the Narrow Sea. Members of House Lannister and its close kin who died valiantly might all be buried here.
"Poor old Jon. He died too quickly, too suddenly!" Tywin said to his brother, Ser Kevan. Tywin was tall and lean, with broad shoulders, and had only just passed fifty. Since his hair had begun to recede, he had shaved his head entirely, leaving only thick golden side-whiskers. His pale green eyes were flecked with gold.
Since his wife's death, Lord Tywin had seldom smiled. After all, to Tywin, fear was more reliable than laughter.
"Now that Duke Jon is dead, you are King Robert's father-in-law, and the crown owes us so many gold dragons! Besides, these are troubled times. The king's bastard and the remnants of House Targaryen have joined forces and could return at any moment!" Ser Kevan said hopefully.
For many years, Ser Kevan had served as Lord Tywin's most trusted deputy, and his loyalty and dependability were widely known. He was somewhat plump and mostly bald, with a fleshy square jaw and a closely trimmed beard. He had rounded shoulders, a thick waist, fine skin, and golden hair and whiskers.
"There is no possibility of that, Kevan!" Tywin replied. "That war was launched by the falcon, the wolf, the deer, and the fish together. Robert does not have the courage to invite me to court! He trusts old Jon and his boyhood companion more!"
"Even so, the gods can bear witness to your ability and talent as Hand! Yet the king overlooks what is close at hand to seek someone far away!"
"Poor Robert is not entirely muddleheaded after all!" Tywin snorted. "The gods cannot permit any man to stand above the king."
"Cersei's letter says that fat woman, Lysa Tully, and Stannis have both run away!" Kevan said.
"That is the most troublesome part. With Jon dead, we become everyone's target! After all, the facts are plain to see. Stannis has fled, Jon has died, and most of King's Landing is now in Lannister hands!" Tywin analyzed. "Even if we did not do it, we appear to benefit!"
"All this time, the Hand, Jon, kept the situation stable." Kevan also acknowledged old Jon's contribution.
"Yes, our old Jon's idea of keeping things stable was to play peacemaker! He dared not offend House Martell or House Tyrell. He could not interfere with the king's amusements and indulgences, and simply let him do as he pleased!"
"Lysa is only a woman, and a mad one at that. Stannis is the one to fear. That man will not yield easily. And then there is the Narrow Sea, the remnants of House Targaryen, and the king's bastard. That bastard is a ruthless character!"
"Ah!" Kevan sighed. House Lannister had indeed treated the Targaryens cruelly back then.
"I can already smell the coming chaos! I must fight this war well. I spent many years restoring our house's glory, and I will never allow House Lannister to fall!"
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