Free Fighting Arena On the opening day, King's Landing was ready to move from the crack of dawn.
As if being awakened by some mysterious force at the same time, soon the vendors were pushing carts out of their stalls, smoke was rising from the bakeries, and even the prostitutes were getting up from their sleep, ready to receive business at any time.
Everyone seemed to be caught in some kind of fanatical atmosphere.
Because today is the official opening day of "Ring of Order" of Vito·Ser Corleone.
That is the magnificent building standing on the west side of Flea Bottom!
It was originally an abandoned leather workshop area. Because it was too close to the flea nest, not only was it difficult to recruit workers, but it was also frequently stolen.
According to Lord Petyr Baelish, the owner of the leather workshop at the time, who wished to remain anonymous, placing his investment next to Flea Bottom was the stupidest decision he had ever made in his life.
Due to Petyr's departure, Corleone spent almost no money to buy this piece of land that no one wanted, invested nearly ten thousand Gold Dragon, and spent three months to bulldoze and rebuild it.
From the outside, Ring of Order looks like a huge stone ring. The outer wall is gray-white Granite, which is thirty feet high. It has no windows and only eight oak doors evenly distributed on the circumference.
On each door is a hand stretched out from the shadows painted in black paint, with the palm facing upward and the fingers slightly spread.
That's the Black Hand Mafia logo.
On the top of the outer wall, an iron flagpole stands every ten feet.
Today, all the flagpoles are flying crimson pennants, with the crossed Longsword embroidered with gold thread, which is the exclusive coat of arms of Fighting Arena, symbolizing "fight" and "justice".
At this moment, these flags were flapping in the morning wind.
The streets are already crowded with people.
Commoners came from all corners of Flea Bottom, wealthy businessmen came from Silk Street, Sailor came from the dock area, and even farmers and small lords came from outside the city.
The crowd snaked along the wall of Ring of Order and formed two long queues. On the left was the general audience entrance, with ticket prices ranging from ten Copper Penny to one Silver Stag. On the right was the VIP entrance, where the admission price alone was at least one Gold Dragon Gold Dragon. The price for each location was different, and the best location even cost a hundred Gold Dragon.
But it is worth the money, not only does it come with an exclusive attendant, but it also provides free drinks, food, and a VIP card signed by Corleone.
Because Corleone spared no effort in making announcements before the battle, there were really too many people who came to watch the battle today. "Community Wardens" who maintained order shuttled among the crowd, shouting to keep the team in order.
But their shouts were quickly drowned out by the louder noise.
"Battle of Brothers!"
"Hound! Hound! Hound!"
"The Mountain will tear him in half! I bet twenty Silver Stag!"
"What's twenty Silver Stag? I bet two Gold Dragon!"
People waved the gambling tickets in their hands as if they were waving some kind of sacred certificate.
The gambling tickets flowed out from the special "handicap" of Ring of Order. It was a temporary wooden house with three sides open. There was a row of clerks sitting inside, with piles of account books at hand.
Three days after the market opened, the total amount of bets has exceeded 300,000 Gold Dragon!
This number is enough to make everyone crazy. You must know that the annual tax revenue of King's Landing is only 150,000 Gold Dragon!
And all this is because Corleone did something that no one could believe. He turned "Red Viper's Revenge" into a "War of Brothers".
Three days ago, when Corleone announced that Prince Oberyn was unable to play due to injury and would be replaced by the Hound, the entire King's Landing exploded.
Hunting dogs hunting the magic mountain?
Isn't that sending someone to death?
Geneva, refund your money!
The angry gamblers almost surrounded House of Order. If it weren't for fear of being beaten, they would have burned the house down long ago.
But long before they knew the news, Corleone had already spent a lot of money on crisis public relations. Not only did they send people to spread the hatred between the Mountain and the Hound, but they also praised the two brothers as the most powerful Warrior in Westeros.
Rumors will spread.
As people added fuel to the fire, the rumors began to become more and more outrageous.
Later, some people even began to spread rumors that the Mountain and the Hound were the reincarnations of the twin brothers, Ilic Cargill Ser and Alec Cargill Ser, who died together in the Dance of the Blood Dragons.
They were thrown into the seven levels of hell because of parricide, but they had no rest after death and were killing each other every day, so Stranger arranged for them to become brothers again and continue to fight each other.
Although this statement is outrageous, it undoubtedly makes people feel crazy.
Even, Corleone asked Rorge to post a huge notice at the door of House of Order.
On the left side of the notice is a portrait of the Magic Mountain, with a giant body, a ferocious helmet, and a giant sword stained with blood.
Under the portrait, written in blood-red bold letters, "Kinslayer Battle!"
"The monster who pushed his own brother into the brazier!"
"The most terrifying killing machine in the Seven Kingdoms!"
On the right side of the notice is a portrait of a hunting dog, with a burned face, silent eyes, and a hand holding a sword.
Under the portrait, written in dark gray letters, "Former Kingsguard!"
"Battle of the Blackwater Rush, one man hacked to death hundreds of Stannis's soldiers!"
"Tonight, he wants justice!"
At the bottom of the notice, in the largest font, it reads, "Who will win this battle!"
Facts have proved that Corleone's crisis public relations is very successful. For this battle of brothers, people's enthusiasm for betting has not diminished, but has become stronger than before.
It's just that because the previous big investments were made by nobles who had a good relationship with Corleone, it doesn't seem like the growth is very fast.
Ring of Order The inside is more shocking than the outside.
This circular building, which can accommodate 2,500 people, is designed to combine the Roman Arena that Corleone saw in its previous life with the local competition venue in Westeros.
The sand is a perfect circle, eighty feet in diameter, and is covered with fine white sand transported from the Blackwater River Beach. The sand layer is three inches thick, which can cushion the impact without being too soft to affect the pace.
The sky above the sand is open and has no roof.
The sun poured down from overhead, illuminating the entire venue.
The stands surrounding the sand are divided into four levels.
The first floor is the VIP seat, which is closest to the sandy area and has less than fifty seats.
On the seats are Arbor's Golden Wine, red wine from Dorne, and various snacks from across the narrow sea, all free of charge.
The second floor is the knight's seat, with 120 seats. There are no cushions, but the view is still excellent.
The third floor is the public gallery, with 500 seats, wooden benches, and no drinks.
The fourth floor is the standing-room voting area, where nearly two thousand people are packed together like sardine cans.
But no one complained, because the ticket price for this location was only ten Copper Penny, and a dock worker's daily income was enough to buy it.
At this moment, all seats are occupied.
The noise of the crowd was like a tide, hitting the stone wall one after another.
In the center of the VIP seats on the first floor, there are several seats that are half a foot higher than other seats.
That is a position reserved exclusively for the royal family.
The Prime Minister sits on the far left.
He was leaning on the high-backed chair, his right hand resting on the armrest casually, and holding a glass of wine in his left hand. There was no emotion on his face, and he even looked pretty good.
It seemed that he was not affected at all by the repeated setbacks in his confrontation with Corleone.
But Queen Mother was as calm as he was, sitting on the right side of the stand, pouring glass after glass of wine into his stomach.
Since the failure of the last council to seize power, she has become increasingly depressed, drinking to drown her sorrows every day, and hanging out with her Kingsguard all day long, not caring about anything.
The little king sits between Cersei and Tywin.
He was so small that when he sat on the high-backed chair, his feet were completely dangling in the air, and his two calves were shaking slightly uneasily. On his knees was a delicate parchment program, with the Ring of Order and Longsword coat of arms printed on the cover.
He looked down at the program list and pretended to read it carefully.
In fact, he couldn't read a word of it.
He was just thinking whether he should close his eyes during the duel later.
Grandpa said that a king cannot close his eyes.
But my mother said that the king can do whatever he wants.
So who should you listen to?
He secretly glanced at his grandfather.
Grandpa was talking to an old nobleman in a dark blue coat.
The old nobleman was bent over, with a flattering smile on his face. When he spoke, his whole body was leaning forward slightly, as if he wanted to be close to his grandfather.
His words were like a river bursting its banks, flowing endlessly.
Tywin just nodded slightly.
Didn't even respond.
But the old nobleman's face was flushed with excitement, and he bowed and backed away, as if he had received a great gift.
Immediately afterwards, the distinguished nobles of King's Landing kept walking towards the throne.
They came over, bowed to grandpa first and showed hospitality, then turned to him, nodded perfunctorily and said, "
Your Majesty is well".
It's like completing a necessary ritual.
Tommen is eight years old, and he knows what that thing called "power" means.
Pursing his lips, the little king lowered his head and continued to read his program list.
It contains the introduction to the first duel.
"Brothers... hatred... blood debt must be paid with blood...
He didn't know what these words meant together.
But he felt that the sun today seemed a bit dazzling.
While Tommen was still struggling with the uncommon words on the program list, there was a sudden commotion at the VIP aisle.
The crowd automatically split to both sides.
A burly old man wearing a dark blue velvet coat walked in.
His steps were long and firm, as if he was used to being given way in the crowd.
Behind him was a young man, about in his early twenties, wearing a neat dark gray knight uniform and Longsword on his waist.
His walking posture is very upright, but his eyes are a little evasive, as if he is not used to being watched by so many people.
"Riverley·Earl Lych!"
Someone in the crowd exclaimed softly.
Tommen raised his head and looked curiously at the person who caused the commotion.
He knows the Lake family.
To be precise, he heard this name at the Imperial Council.
When the maesters discussed the royal taxation, they mentioned Duskendale, saying that the commercial tax revenue there was second only to King's Landing.
Another time, when my grandfather was talking to Uncle Kevan, he said, "Lake, that old fox made a fortune from his Flea Bottom business."
Tommen doesn't know where Flea Bottom is, or why Earl Lych wants to get rich.
But he knew that it must be very difficult for his grandfather to remember someone's name.
Ray Foley·Lake walked into the VIP seat and scanned the entire audience.
He saw Tywin.
Tommen thought he would go over immediately like everyone else, bow, say hello, and say a lot of words like "Long time to see you" and "Honor".
But Riverey didn't.
He only briefly met Tywin's eyes while scanning the whole place, and then looked away very naturally.
Then, he walked straight to the front of the royal seat and stopped in front of Tommen.
He bowed deeply, and the two crossed black coats of arms Warhammer on his chest shone brightly in the sun.
"Your Majesty," his voice was rich and resonant, "Riverley Lake, Dusken Valley Earl, would like to extend my highest respect to you."
"May the Seven Gods bless your reign long and prosperous."
Tommen was stunned for a moment, and for some reason, he felt moved in his heart.
"May... may the gods also bless you, Earl Lych."
His voice was small and stuttered, but he was serious.
Hearing this, Rivere straightened up with a gentle smile on his face.
Like an elder feeling gratified when he sees his younger generation working hard.
Then he turned sideways and pulled the young man behind him to him. "Your Majesty, this is my second son and the heir to Earl of Mugu Town, Herb·Lake."
The young man took a step forward and bowed deeply as well.
"Herb·Lake, met Your Majesty."
His movements were not as skillful as his father's and were a little stiff.
Tommen looked up at him.
This young knight is neither tall nor short, neither fat nor thin. He has a straight face and neatly combed brown hair. He is wearing a brand new dark gray knight uniform and wears Longsword on his waist. He stands upright.
Looks very ordinary.
But at least it is much more pleasing to the eye than those aristocratic children who wear gold and silver and are arrogant all day long.
Tommen thought so and nodded.
Then he suddenly remembered something.
"Second son? Heir?"
He tilted his head and asked in confusion, "Master Earl, where is your eldest son? Is he also dead?"
Hearing this, Rivere's smile paused.
But he didn't care much. After all, the king in front of him was only eight years old, and Tommen only inherited the throne after the death of his brother Joffrey, so it was normal to ask.
Riverey glanced at Tommen, then unconsciously glanced at Black Hand Badge who could be seen everywhere in the venue, and laughed.
"Your Majesty is a good question." He said with unabashed cheerfulness in his voice, "My eldest son, Aemon·Lake, has voluntarily given up his inheritance rights."
As soon as these words came out, Tommen's eyes widened.
"Giving up your inheritance? Why?"
"Because he longs for the life on the other side of the Narrow Sea." Riveri said, "He wants to see the Long Bridge of Volantis, the Sealord of Braavos Palace, and the gardens of Lys."
"He doesn't want to be trapped in the castle in Duskendale and be a lord for the rest of his life."
He paused, and there was no blame in his tone, and he was even a little proud. "So I let him go. He is now a wandering knight in the Free City, and it is said that he is living a very happy life."
Hearing this, Tommen listened with an envious expression on his face.
He has never seen across the Narrow Sea, and he has never left King's Landing.
He didn't know that a person could give up his inheritance rights and do what he wanted.
But if you choose to give up the throne, who else will inherit the Iron Throne?
Tommen frowned.
Myrcella?
She's in Dorne.
Mother... her last name is not Baratheon.
Thinking of this, Tommen sighed with some disappointment. Although it was really uncomfortable to sit in the seat full of swords, he really couldn't think of anyone else.
However, sitting next to him, Marga Li, who was about to become Queen, felt more and more something was wrong the more she listened.
Voluntarily giving up the position of heir and running to the other side of the Narrow Sea to become a wandering knight?
Why does this script sound so familiar?