"The new Mr. City Watch Commander, can't you hire a few servants to follow us and do some work like moving chairs and opening umbrellas?"
A few days later, King's Gate was outside.
Tyrion·Lannister blocked the sun with his hands, full of complaints.
Beside him, Bronn, who was wearing a golden robe, was leaning on the city wall, casually picking at the mud between his fingernails with a dagger.
"I didn't fucking ask you, you had to come with me."
"I just want to see with my own eyes what it will be like for a hired Mercenary to become City Watch Commander."
Tyrion spread his hands. "It turns out that you are the stingiest person I have ever seen, Bronn Commander."
Hearing this, Bronn raised his eyelids and rolled his eyes at him. "You know nothing, I call this saving!"
"Fuck frugality, those boots on your feet alone cost at least five Gold Dragon, I think you are stingy!"
As soon as he said this, Bronn grabbed Tyrion by the back collar and lifted him up from the ground like a chicken.
"Hey! What the hell are you doing..." Tyrion kicked his short legs.
"I was rude to Lord Commander." Bronn carried him two steps toward the city gate regardless, pretending to throw him out. "Disturbing public order and insulting the nobles."
"Several crimes are punished concurrently. It is recommended that the sentence be thrown into the septic tank."
"Put me down, you damn upstart!"
"Apologise."
"Why should I apologize? What I said is the truth!"
"Apologise, or say "Bronn is wise and powerful"."
"You're dreaming.
1
While the two were bickering, an ox cart carrying manure slowly drove over from the direction of the city gate.
When the bullock cart passed through a puddle, its wheels sank into the mud and jolted.
Wow.
The thin excrement on the top layer swayed out from the car floor and splashed onto the two people on the side of the road.
Tyrion looked down and saw that the coat was now covered with yellow-brown viscous liquid, mixed with a few grass stalks.
The situation of Bronn is not much better. The brand new leather armor and golden cloak are also stained with "King's Landing specialties", and there is a small unknown object hanging on the gold cup lamb badge.
The two of them finally stopped making trouble and stood motionless.
The old man driving the cart didn't seem to notice it at all. He waved his whip as if nothing had happened and continued to drive the cart forward.
The silence lasted for a long time.
... I'm fucking City Watch Commander now." Bronn's voice was terrifyingly calm.
"I know." Tyrion was equally calm.
"I can order his arrest."
"You absolutely can."
"I'm going to put him in a dungeon and let the damn guy spend the night with the rats!"
"I think you should do this."
Bronn looked down at the dung on his body, and then at the bullock cart that was getting further away.
66
... I'm too lazy to move."
"Me too."
The two were silent for a few more seconds.
"It's better to think about the positive aspects."
Seeing Bronn's frustrated look, Tyrion tried to persuade him, "At least I don't have to go to Gold Cloaks Headquarters to report every day, right?"
Hearing this, Bronn rolled his eyes. "Who said that?"
"You're a fucking Commander, can't you help me avoid this tedious bullshit process?"
"I, Bronn, am the most conscientious and conscientious Commander ever. I must follow all the procedures!"
Bronn grinned, then found that his hands were also stained with feces, and wiped them on Tyrion's clothes very naturally. "If you have the ability, go to Corleone."
..Tyrion looked down at the fresh handprints on the cloak. "You fucking have to rub it on me?"
"Don't be so stingy. Your clothes are already dirty. I just bought a new cloak."
But just when Bronn was thinking about whether to go back to Gold Cloaks Headquarters to change clothes, there was a sound of neat horse hooves in the distance0
The two turned their heads and saw a flag coming slowly from the direction of Roseroad. On a green background, a hunter in red was holding a bow and arrow.
Bronn took a deep breath, gave up the futile cleaning, straightened his back and threw back his cloak... throwing out a few drops of unfinished dung, and strode towards the green flag.
He stopped a few steps away from the leading horse.
He raised his chin slightly, imitating Rui Frey·Lake's deep laughter unique to the old aristocrats.
"Oh hehehe~
"Welcome to King's Landing, Randyll·Tarly!"
"I am Bronn Earl, the new City Watch Commander...Stokeworth. I am here to welcome you on your appointment under the orders of the acting Hand of the King Vito·Corleone!"
Laughter echoed outside the empty city gate.
However, Horn Hill Earl on the horse did not smile, and did not even have the slightest intention of dismounting.
"Commander?" Randyll·Tarly's eyes started from Bronn's boots and slowly moved upwards. A trace of contempt flashed in his usually serious eyes.
But Bronn kept smiling and repeated, "Yes, sir, City Watch Commander."
Although the other person's look made him unhappy, he would be his immediate boss from now on.
"There is something wrong with you, Your Excellency Commander."
"This is an accident, sir." Bronn was silent for a while, then grinned indifferently.
However, Horn Hill Earl seemed not to let him go. Instead, he held on to such a minor mistake and continued to scold him, "Paying attention to your clothes is also one of Commander's responsibilities."
"You represent the image of City Watch, and your soldiers will follow your example. If you have shit on your boots, they will think that shit is tolerated."
"Details determine discipline, and discipline determines victory or defeat."
"If you were a soldier of Horn Hill, I would let you hold this robe stained with feces and sleep in a pig pen for a month!"
Such a tone made Bronn feel very unhappy.
Even if you are the new Master of Laws, we are both Earl after all. As for talking about this?
"Are you teaching me how to do something?" He finally couldn't hold it back and his voice was half a tone higher than expected.
However, Randyll·Tarly still showed no change in expression. "I'm just reminding you.
"As Master of Laws, I don't want to see my subordinates sloppy."
"I know your origin, Bronn Earl, Mercenary of Riverlands, Battle of the Blackwater Rush a decorated knight, married the daughter of the House Stokeworth family and inherited the castle that burned to ruins."
"It only took you less than two years to go from Mercenary to Earl, which is rare in the history of Westeros, but now that you have become Earl, your words and deeds must be different from before."
As soon as these words came out, Bronn felt the fire in his heart became even more intense.
It's not because what Randyll·Tarly said was ugly. In fact, he had heard words a hundred times worse than this in Riverlands.
But the other person's natural and condescending tone when he said these words reminded him that his background was not good.
Just when Bronn couldn't help it, a burst of laughter came from not far away. He looked angrily and saw a certain Tyrion leaning on the city wall, holding his stomach and laughing.
"Hahahahaha!!!"
"What the hell are you laughing at?" Bronn, who finally found the punching bag, immediately walked over and lifted Tyrion up again.
Not too dirty either.
"Hey! Watch your words and actions, Bronn Commander!"
Tyrion, however, didn't care. He imitated the tone of Randyll·Tarly seriously and mocked. "It is against the rules for a Commander to carry Tyrion. Your soldiers will see it and they will think it is normal."
"You're pretty damn good at it." Bronn was a little speechless, and for a moment he didn't know whether to be angry or laugh. "Thank you, I've been a Tyrion all my life, and imitation is one of my few specialties. If I don't have any money to spend in the future, maybe I can still rely on this to make a living."
Hearing this, Bronn stared at him for a moment, then let go of his hand in a playful manner and let the other person fall to the ground with a "chirp".
"Well, that's very respectable."
Tyrion was not angry. Instead, he sat on the ground and looked down at the feces and dirt on his pants, and joked, "
A Commander throws Tyrion to the ground. Master Randyll·Tarly will definitely praise your progress."
"Shut up or I'll let you spend the night with the rats, I swear to Seven."
"Come on, you don't believe Seven at all."
"I believed it from the beginning!"
However, while the two were bickering, a cold voice came from above.
"Please explain why you are with a criminal, Bronn Commander?"
Bronn and Tyrion raised their heads at the same time, and saw Randyll·Tarly sitting astride the horse, and they didn't know when they appeared in front of them.
Hearing this, Tyrion got up from the ground, patted the mud on his pants, and wiped it on Bronn's cloak.
"Hey! Hey!"
He took two steps forward with his short legs, raised his head and looked at Horn Hill Earl on the horse. "Please pay attention to your wording, Lord Tarly."
"I'm just a suspect," not a criminal. This is recognized by both Small Council and the church. If you don't believe it, you can ask High Septon... Oh, I'm sorry, he has been killed by the bomb."
"It doesn't matter if you're a suspect or a criminal."
However, Randyll·Tarly didn't seem to think that Tyrion was very humorous, and still said coldly, "I don't even bother to associate with Tyrion."
"Enough!"
Just when Randyll's words left his mouth, Bronn couldn't bear it anymore.
To give you face, I call you Master of Laws. You really take yourself seriously, don't you?
He took a step forward and just blocked Tyrion behind him. He put the dagger on his waist with his right hand calmly, stared into Randyll·Tarly's eyes and threatened. "He is my friend, I will be with him today."
"Do you have any opinions, Tarly?"
Seeing Bronn's rude words, the Horn Hill knights behind them all glared angrily and prepared to step forward to scold them, but Randyll·Tarly raised a hand to stop them.
His eyes slowly moved down from Bronn's face, and landed precisely on the right hand resting on the handle of the dagger.
As a knight who once defeated Robert·Baila Theon on the battlefield, Horn Hill Earl is not a parallel import, and Bronn's actions cannot escape his eyes at all.
"Put away your little thoughts, Commander."
However, he did not take this opportunity to attack. Instead, he sneered, "A Tyrion, a fool."
"As Master of Laws, I will be very busy with my upcoming affairs and will not have time to play out this disgusting friendship drama with you.""
After saying that, he drove the horses and headed towards the city gate.
The soldiers of House Tarly followed closely behind, the green hunter's flag squeaking in the morning light as they passed by the two of them, but no one glanced at them.
When the last soldier disappeared from the city gate and King's Gate became quiet again, Bronn slowly let go of the hand holding the dagger.
... He called you a fool." Tyrion's voice came from behind.
Hearing this, Bronn didn't look back. "Why the hell do you think he was talking about me?"
"Because I am Tyrion, and you almost drew a knife and stabbed Master of Laws just now. This is stupid."
"I didn't intend to stab him to death, I just wanted to give the horse some blood. I was too tired to keep raising my head and talking to that guy."
As he said that, Bronn seemed to sense something was wrong, and turned to look at Tyrion: "I'm fucking standing up for you, you heartless dwarf!"
"I know."
Tyrion grinned, the smile was less joking and more sincere, "So I decided to forgive you for throwing me to the ground, just this once."
.. you're so fucking generous."
"This is one of my many strengths."
Black Cells of Red Keep.
Randyll·Tarly held the torch and illuminated a figure huddled in the corner.
The long golden hair was so dirty that the original color could not be seen, and the locks were stuck together. His hands were chained to the buckles on the wall, and the skin at the wrists had been worn.
Randyll·Tarly looked at her, couldn't help but frown slightly, and said solemnly, "I remember the last time I saw you, it was Battle of the Blackwater Rush's celebration party, so... Mrs. Cersei·Lannister."
However, Cersei did not respond.
Her head was lowered, and her long golden hair covered with dirt covered her entire face. She was so silent that Randyll·Tarly almost thought she was dead.
I don't know how long it took before Cersei slowly raised his head. His long golden hair fell to both sides, revealing the face that once fascinated Westeros.
His lips were chapped and bloodshot, his cheekbones were high, his eye sockets were sunken, his green eyes were full of bloodshot eyes, and he had almost no energy at all.
"Who are you...?"
Hearing this, Randyll frowned even more tightly because he couldn't even tell whether this was a disguise or reality.
"Randyll·Tarly, the new Master of Laws."
"Master of Laws..
.. what does that mean."
As soon as these words came out, even Randyll didn't know how to continue the conversation. He just took off the water bag from his waist and walked over to Cersei and squatted down.
Cersei looked at him, and after a few seconds, he opened his mouth slightly and greedily swallowed the hard-won water.
It wasn't until the water bag was nearly half empty that Randyll·Tarly took it back.
Cersei leaned against the wall, his chest rising and falling slightly.
Randyll·Tarly stood up and retreated to the cell door, the torch burning quietly in his hand, and the smell of rosin temporarily overshadowed the decaying smell in the cell.
"Lord Regent Tywin·Lannister, is he still alive?"
Cersei did not answer, but her gaze fell on somewhere on the wall, as if she was looking at something that only she could see.
"Father... you ask my father?"
"Yes."
"My father."
She suddenly laughed sinisterly, "He never lets me touch authority. He said that I am a woman and women cannot inherit Casterly Rock."
Seeing this, Randyll·Tarly frowned even deeper.
"What happened on Sept day?" He decided to change to a more direct question.
Cersei's laughter stopped suddenly, as if something had strangled his throat.
"Sept..
Her eyes suddenly opened wide, her pupils shrank sharply, and her voice began to tremble. "It's all their fault, it's all their fault!!!"
"My son is the king, and I am the most powerful woman Seven Kingdoms...Joffrey... He is dead... Where is Tommen?"
"Where is Tommen? They hid my son...
.. hiding my little lion!!!"
Her voice gradually turned into an indistinct murmur, her lips moved, but she could not pronounce complete syllables, and her green eyes had completely lost focus.
Randyll·Tarly was silent for a long time, then shook his head and turned to leave.
But just when he was about to step out of the prison door.
"You're going to hell."
Randyll stopped and turned around, only to see Cersei still leaning against the wall, muttering something repeatedly.
"You will all go to hell... father, Corleone, that Tyrion... all of you will go to Seven Hells!"
However, Randyll·Tarly did not answer. He just looked at her for the last time and walked out of the cell.
Outside the door, footsteps could be heard on the stone steps.
A young waiter came down with a tray on which lay a bowl of porridge, brown bread and a small jug of water.
The waiter lowered his head, lowered his eyes, and placed the dinner plate on the small table next to the cell door.
Randyll·Tarly glanced at him and asked casually, "What's your name?"
The waiter raised his head, revealing an ordinary face, the kind that would never be remembered if thrown into the crowd.
"Ali, sir, I am a helper in the kitchen."
"For a waiter, it's not a bad name." He praised first, then turned to the guard at the door, who was a young man with broad shoulders and a war hammer in his hand.
"What about you?"
...Gendry, Sir."
"I remember."
Randyll·Tarly nodded, and then asked, "Keep an eye on the Queen Mother."
"Yes."
"Yes, sir."