His words became more and more exaggerated, and the monk finally couldn't help but speak, "Ser, this is...
, "Shut up!" The old man interrupted him and angrily shouted, "You are willing to degenerate and serve as a mouthpiece for these two women who have tongues but pretend to be deaf and mute. What qualifications do you have to argue with me?"
Being humiliated so face to face, the monk's face instantly turned red, but he only trembled his lips a few times and did not retort.
He obviously knew this old man and knew that he could not defeat him.
No, not only can't I say it, but I'm afraid I can't beat him either.
"You people keep talking about the will of the Seven Gods all day long."
The old man continued, pointing to the two silent sisters. "The Seven Gods gave you a mouth, not to let you convey messages for Him, but to let you eat, drink water, and praise His glory."
"It would be better for you not to speak yourself and let others speak for you. After you have finished speaking, you still say it is "the will of the Seven Gods"."
He sneered, "I have been praying devoutly at Sept for decades, but I have never seen him speak. Even the Archbishop has personally admitted that he has never received the will of the Seven Gods. What do you guys think?"
The monk opened his mouth to refute, but the old man had already turned around, bent down and picked up the dry cross frame on the ground.
The cross weighed forty pounds, and Cersei had just carried it seven times, feeling that her backbone was about to be broken with every step she took. But the old man picked it up with one hand and held it up to the monk, like holding a Wooden Club.
Only then did Cersei realize that the old man in front of her, who was about the same age as her father, was wearing heavy armor and was obviously a knight.
"Look at this!"
The old knight obviously hadn't vented enough. He picked up the cross with one hand and pushed it towards the monk. He continued to spray, "This heresy's evil weapon weighs at least forty pounds. You let a woman who has given birth to three children carry this thing around on her back, scratching her shoulders and grinding the soles of her feet. And then you call this confession?"
As he spoke, he angrily slammed the cross on the ground, making a thud sound, which frightened the monks and made them retreat one after another.
"This is not confession, this is abuse."
"You package abuse as religious rituals and torture people as sacred lessons. What is the difference between you and those heretics who beat themselves with whips on the streets?"
"No, you are more hateful than them. At least they are beating themselves up!"
As the old knight roared with full force, the monk's face was as red as a boiled shrimp, and the two silent sisters behind him just lowered their heads and did not dare to speak.
.. even though they never speak.
"Ser, I want to remind you!"
The monk swallowed and argued for himself. "This is the decision of the Silent Sisters. They were guided by the Seven Gods and ordered by the Archbishop..."
"Bullshit guidance!" The old knight interrupted him again, "Mother requires us to be merciful and requires all believers to protect every woman. I think you have eaten all the teachings in your stomach and pulled them out as arrows!"
"The Seven Gods will speak for themselves when they want you to send a message, so you don't need to worry about them here!"
Cersei, who was standing aside, watched this scene. Even though her body was in pain and she kept gasping for air, an imperceptible smile still appeared on the corner of her mouth.
It turns out you sons of bitches are scared too!
Under the old knight's continuous output, the monk was completely speechless and just stood there shaking with anger.
The old knight glanced at him, shook his head and was too lazy to talk nonsense to him, and even put his right hand on the hilt of the sword at his waist.
"Get lost!"
"Get out of my sight before I plan to do anything, otherwise I will let you know what it means that last night I heard the guidance of Warrior, and He asked me to clean up the moths in the church"!
As soon as these words came out, the monk turned around decisively and ran away.
The two silent sisters who were once arrogant followed him sluggishly and soon disappeared into the shadows at the end of the corridor.
The hall fell silent.
Cersei was grateful to the old knight. She saw that the other knight had his back to her and his hands on his hips, facing the direction where the monk and the silent sisters disappeared.
He is tall and thin and wears an old armor. There are no gorgeous decorations or crests on the armor. There are only many dents left by the sword blade and Warhammer, which glow mottled under the light of the oil lamp.
"Sooner or later, we will burn all the things of these heretics and evil gods." The old knight muttered in a low voice, and then turned around.
Only then did Cersei have the chance to see his face clearly.
There are many wrinkles on his face, and he looks like an ordinary skinny old man, but his skin has been tanned by the sun to a healthy bronze color, not as pale as those monks who stay indoors all day.
His back was straight, and his whole person exuded an aura that belonged to the real Warrior.
At this moment, the old knight's face overlapped with that of the Father statue at the end of the corridor behind him.
Father held the scale high and looked down, with a serious and compassionate face. The old knight did not have any mercy on his face, but looked very serious and determined, as if he was the only one who knew what was right and what was wrong.
For a moment, Cersei was in a daze and couldn't help but murmured, "Father...
", Hearing this, the old knight was stunned for a moment, and then unexpectedly grinned on his serious face.
"I'm not your father, Queen Mother Your Majesty."
As he spoke, he put his right hand on his chest and bowed slightly, performing a standard knightly salute.
"Bonifer·Hasty."
"Brothers Hundred-Man Holy War Band and I had the honor to fight alongside your brother Jaime Lannister Ser in the Riverlands."
Cersei's eyes narrowed slightly.
Bonifer·Hasti, she has heard this name before. He is a famous knight from the Storm Land, a staunch believer of the Seven Gods, and the leader of Hundred-Man Holy War Band!
In the War of Five Kings, he served Renly Baratheon and Stannis Baratheon, and later surrendered to Joffrey.
Although his holy war group only has a hundred people, they are well-trained and disciplined. Even Jaime praised their discipline as far superior to any of the Lannister troops.
"Jaime..." Cersei murmured.
That irresponsible guy left King's Landing without saying anything to himself. Cersei didn't even know where he was now, and he never took the initiative to write a letter to her.
Not once.
"James Ser is a true knight."
The old knight nodded and continued, "I have seen him fighting in the Riverlands. He has superb swordsmanship and commendable courage."
"Although he was captured later... but he is indeed an excellent Warrior."
When he said this, his tone was very calm, without deliberately complimenting or avoiding.
This made Cersei feel a strange feeling in her heart, because she hadn't heard anyone mention Jaime in this tone for a long time.
In King's Landing, when people mention Jaime, they usually use the prefix "Kingslayer" or "Queen Mother's brother", and few people praise his superb skills as a knight.
Of course, this was a good start thanks to her ex-husband who was gored to death by a wild boar.
Speaking of which, Cersei has fallen in love with the taste of wild boar meat since Robert died, but she has never tasted it since entering this damn place.
"Why are you in Sept?" Cersei asked.
Bonifer didn't answer immediately. He looked down at Cersei's bloody feet and frowned.
"I come every day."
"Every morning, before the sun comes out, I come here and pray in front of the statue of Father, asking the Seven Gods to keep my brothers safe and to protect this the Seven Kingdoms from any more wars."
Hearing this, Cersei's lips twitched slightly. "You come here every day?"
Although the other party saved her, she still didn't quite understand this pious and almost crazy attitude.
"Come every day."
Bonifer didn't pay attention to Cersei's somewhat presumptuous look, nodded and said honestly, "I have been praying here for more than forty years, and since...
"In short, I have never missed a day except when I was fighting outside. I have stepped on every stone slab here and I know every monk."
As he said that, he turned around and faced the Father statue at the end of the corridor. "So I know that this shouldn't be like this."
0
"The palace of the seven gods should be a place where everyone seeks comfort. The poor can see hope here, the sick can gain the courage to fight against the disease, and the lost can find their way here."
"But now? What has become of this place?"
The old knight pointed to the blood stains on the soles of Cersei's feet, and his tone gradually became harsh. "Tywin Lannister turned this place into a prison for political opponents, a tool for him to deal with political opponents!"
As soon as these words came out, Cersei's heart skipped a beat.
She raised her head and looked at Bonifer in disbelief, and saw that the old knight's back was still straight, like a sword that would never bend.
"Aren't you afraid of being heard?"
Hearing this, Bonifer turned around with a disdainful smile on his lips, "What am I afraid of?"
"The Seven Gods do not allow people to lie. I, Bonifer Hasti, have never said anything that goes against the teachings. Everything I say is a fact that is known to everyone. What is there to be afraid of?"
Cersei was silent.
She has met many people. Some are afraid of Tywin, some are afraid of Corleone, some are afraid of the golden robes, and some are afraid of the Kingsguard. But she has never seen a person who is not afraid of anything.
"Why did you help me?" she asked.
Bonifer looked at her, with an almost stubborn belief in her old and sharp eyes.
"I'm not helping you, I'm helping the Seven Gods."
"The Seven need no help," Cersei said.
"The Seven Gods don't need it, but Sept does." Bonifer corrected. "Sept is the residence of the Seven Gods, his home on earth. If someone throws garbage at your house, someone needs to throw it all out!"
After that, Bonifer stretched out his hand. "Let's go, Queen Mother Your Majesty, I'll take you back to your room."
Cersei was silent for a moment, then slowly stretched out her hand to hold the old knight's hand, and walked with him towards her solitary room.
Only the voice of Queen Mother was left echoing softly in the hall.
"Do you think the title Warrior's Sons" is more in line with the teachings of the Seven Gods than Hundred-Man Holy War Band", Hasti Ser...
The next evening.
Cured Meat Street Shrouded in the late autumn twilight, the oil lamps on the street lit up one by one, spreading orange light on the stone road.
This is the nearest street to the north of Flea Bottom. Although administratively it does not belong to the "Special Autonomous Region" of Corleone, the suffocating rancid smell of the past is no longer in the air.
Barristan pulled down his hood and stepped into the gate of "Old John's Kitchen". The dust on his gray cloak fell on the threshold.
Looking around, the old Kingsguard suddenly felt a surge of complicated emotions in his heart.
Changed.
Everything has changed.
He remembered what this store looked like before, with greasy wooden tables placed crookedly, firewood piled messily in the corner, and there was always a layer of dirt on the floor that couldn't be washed off.
The people who came here at that time were dock workers and Stevedore. They always squatted on the benches, grabbing salted fish and brown bread with dirty hands, chewing them, and occasionally raised their heads to curse the king or the lord's taxes for being too high.
Although the environment here was not very good, Barristan always liked to come here to eat because he didn't like staying with the new "Oath Brothers".
Because in Old Kingsguard's view, since the "White Bull" Gerald Hightower and Arthur Dayne all died, the white robe that he was once proud of seemed to have become a kind of constraint.
But now "Old John's Kitchen" seems to have changed to a different place.
The tables and chairs were replaced with clean and tidy new gadgets. There was a small clay pot on each table with a few dried flowers in it.
There are several paintings hanging on the wall, they are not expensive works, they are sketches of Cured Meat Street's street scenes, docks and statues of the Seven Gods, but they look very elegant.
There were seven or eight tables sitting in the shop, including mercenary knights with swords at their waists, and a few foreign businessmen who looked like they came from across the narrow sea.
This was no longer the "Old John's Kitchen" he remembered, but more like a restaurant on Silk Street.
"Happy drinking light~~~~~ comes!"
Suddenly, a voice came from behind the bar.
Barristan turned his head and saw a short, fat, middle-aged man leaning out from behind the bar with an attentive smile on his face.
Old Kingsguard recognized him immediately.
...Old John.
He remembered that the first time he came here was ten years ago. At that time, John was just a thin young man who was sweating profusely from working in the kitchen all day long. His wife was waiting for the guests at the front, and his daughter, only seven or eight years old, squatted in the corner and gnawed the bones left by the guests at unknown tables.
Now John has gained weight, his face is wrinkled, and his temples are white, but his eyes are still the same as before, with a hint of cunning in his honest manner.
"A window seat."
Barristan lowered his voice, deliberately making his accent sound vague.
"Okay!"
John came out from behind the bar, led him to a table by the window, pulled out a chair. "Please sit down, what do you want to eat today?"
"Our stew today is good. It uses beef that was just shipped from the dock yesterday morning and stewed all afternoon."
Barristan then sat down and pulled his hood down again.
"Stew, another cup of Ale."
"Okay!"
John turned to leave, but Old Kingsguard stopped him.
"John!"
"Your daughter...Ellie, why isn't she here?"
John turned around and was stunned for a moment, taking a closer look at Barristan, but the hood was too tight, and only his chin with a gray beard could be seen.
Could it be that some bad old man is thinking about my beautiful daughter?
Old John's heart was ringing with alarm, but he still put on an honest smile and scratched his head honestly, "Do you know Ellie?"
"That girl is now very promising. She is working as a manager at Laundry Alley in House of Order. She will directly obey the orders of Lord Vito·Corleone!"
"Her mother died five years ago. I thought we were the only ones who would depend on each other for the rest of our lives. I didn't expect that girl to do better than me now."
There was pride in his tone, but he mentioned Corleone's name intentionally or unintentionally. After all, no one in the entire King's Landing dared not give Black Hand Mafia face.
"Not bad."
But contrary to Old John's expectations, Barristan just nodded and said nothing else.
John glanced at him doubtfully, turned around and left.
Barristan leaned back in his chair and looked out the window. He couldn't help but recall what Cured Meat Street looked like when he left.
At that time, the streets were full of garbage, sewage flowed across the street, beggars huddled under the walls, and the most beautiful prostitutes stood in the alleys and stared at the passing men, just asking to sell their bodies in exchange for the night's rations.
The Golden Robe patrols occasionally, but they only care about receiving "protection money" and don't care about what happens on the street.
On the night that Joffrey, that little bastard, dismissed him from the Kingsguard in public, Barristan walked aimlessly into Cured Meat Street, full of anger.
He remembered that day, he sat in this shop and ate a bowl of tasteless vegetable soup and drank a cup of sour Ale. Then he walked out of the door, headed south, arrived at the pier, and boarded a ship bound for Pentos.
Since then, he has never come back.
Until now.
Soon, John came with steaming stew and Ale. He put the dishes on the table, looked at Barristan again, and moved his lips, as if he was hesitating whether to ask more questions.
"Thank you." However, Barristan just lowered his head, picked up the spoon, and started eating.
John had no choice but to curl his lips and walk away wisely.
Put a spoonful of the stew into your mouth. The beef is stewed so well that it melts in your mouth without chewing. The soup is rich and has the taste of black pepper and bay leaves.
I took another sip of Ale. It was not sour or astringent. It felt warm in my throat after drinking it.
It seems that the arrival of Corleone has not only changed Flea Bottom, but even Cured Meat Street's stores have begun to learn from the business model there.
But it was quite effective.
He ate slowly and began to think about other things.
This morning, he heard that Corleone sent people to repair Fort Stokeworth. Barristan was an old knight who had served several kings, and he knew what this meant.
He has been in the Kingsguard for forty years and has seen countless nobles use money, territory, and titles to win people's hearts. Barristan knows very well that Corleone must have done this for himself and deliberately let people release the news to him.
But this does not displease Barristan.
He walked around King's Landing in the past two days, and he deeply felt the difference between Flea Bottom and other places today. People in Flea Bottom never lowered their heads and hid their golden robes when walking on the street, and they did not have to worry about being treated as untouchables and being beaten and scolded at will.
They have their own order and rules, and their beloved lords.
Everyone is praising that Vito·Corleone has given them jobs, food, safety, and... dignity.
Barristan took another sip of Ale.
This is why Daenerys asked him to come to Corleone.
Queen Your Majesty doesn't need an ally who can only fight, she needs someone who can govern.
She has three dragons, eight thousand Unsullied, and the support of tens of thousands of freed slaves, but she has no experience in governing Westeros.
If the Targaryen dynasty wants to regain its original glory, it urgently needs someone who understands this land and knows how to make this broken the Seven Kingdoms run again.
And Vito·Corleone is even more suitable than Tywin.
It's just that Barristan hasn't made up his mind yet.
He has seen too many people who are duplicitous and reveal their true colors after gaining power and honor. Whether the other party is worthy of true trust will at least take some time to be examined.
Just as Old Kingsguard was thinking carefully, a young woman walked in from the door.
He is about in his early twenties, not tall but very strong, with bulging muscles in his arms. It looks like he is used to doing strenuous work.
Putting the tub on the bar with a bang, the woman shouted, "I bought the meat, old man!"
"Today's beef was not very good. I went to three stalls before I found a decent piece."
"Why have you been there for so long?" John poked his head out from behind the bar and frowned. "I thought you were captured by the golden robe."
"Also, how many times have I told you to call me father in front of others!"
"I know, I know, old man."
Ellie waved his hand with an impatient expression on his face. "The streets are very chaotic today, and there are soldiers everywhere."
"Many soldiers in red armor came in through the Lion's Gate before dawn in the morning."
She kept saying this while taking the meat out of the wooden basin, "I originally wanted to go to the pier to buy some fresh fish, but I was stopped halfway and said I wanted to check!"
"The gang turned my basket upside down. The meat fell to the ground and got dust on it. They didn't even apologize."
Hearing this, John frowned. "Golden Robe doesn't care?"
Ellie sneered, "Those people standing on the roadside looked at them and didn't even dare to fart. Later I asked a gold-robed man I knew and they said these were Lannister soldiers!"
As soon as he said these words, Barristan's hand holding the spoon paused, and then he put it into his mouth again.
Old John sighed and did not dare to comment further.
But Ellie put the meat on the chopping board, picked up the knife and cut it carefully. "It's not just me, many people on the street were stopped."
"It was even more chaotic at the dock. I heard that several cargoes were detained. The merchants and the soldiers almost got into a fight. Later, Squad Leader, a man in a golden robe, went to mediate. The goods were returned, but they had to pay the city entrance tax. I think they were really crazy about money."
Hearing this, Old John was silent for a moment, and then quickly shook her head to stop her from continuing to complain, "Stop talking, the Prime Minister naturally has his own reasons for doing things."
"It makes sense!"
Ellie was still disdainful, but his voice was obviously much softer. "I think Lord Corleone should be the prime minister. After you enter King's Landing, you can have one meal of meat every week...
The muttering became quieter and quieter, until finally it was completely inaudible.
Barristan lowered his head and continued to drink the soup, but his brows were already frowning slightly.
Having spent half his life in the military, he was very familiar with this situation.
When a foreign army enters a city, no matter how strict the commander's orders are, there will always be soldiers who cross the line.
Stealing, robbing, beating people, molesting women... These things are commonplace in wartime, and they are no less common in peacetime.
Barristan shook his head and was about to ask for another glass of Ale.
But they only heard a burst of chaotic footsteps coming from far away, and then a group of soldiers wearing red armor and holding various weapons broke in without saying anything!
Barristan was very familiar with this armor.
. Lannister.