"Corleone, me"
Randyll·Tarly kicked open the door of the banquet hall, and his anger turned into a loud shout.
However, before he finished speaking, the heavy door panel hit something and bounced back, straight towards the door facing Randyll.
His yelling stopped abruptly, and he instinctively leaned back. The door panel closed again with a bang, narrowly missing the bridge of his nose.
The originally exciting scene suddenly became a little embarrassing.
"My lord..." the adjutant said cautiously.
"Knock me out of the way!" Randyll·Tarly shouted sullenly.
Hearing this, the adjutant greeted the two knights and was about to come forward, but the door of the banquet hall opened by itself.
An ugly face without a nose poked out from the crack in the door. Before he could speak, he was pushed away by Randyll.
"Get out of my way!"
Without any explanation, Randyll·Tarly saw Corleone sitting at the end of the long table. The anger that had been accumulated all the way finally found an outlet.
"Vito·Corleone!"
"You Farmer, who climbed up through countless dirty tricks, are just an agent Hand of the King. Who gave you the power to connive at your men to arrest my son!"
"Don't you just want to take revenge on me for cracking down on Black Hand Mafia's criminal behavior during this period? I will tell you today!"
As he spoke, he emotionally pulled open his robe, revealing a strong chest full of scars.
"I fought the rebellion with Tyrell, and shed blood under Theon's tent in Baila. When I was loyal to Iron Throne, you were still picking apples at Riverlands!"
"Dickon is my heir! It's Horn Hill's future Earl. You maggots who only hide in the shadows and plot your plans. If you want to threaten me with him, just dream!"
Randyll·Tarly became more and more excited as he spoke, and in the end he even yelled.
It stands to reason that Horn Hill Earl has always been known for being steady and rigid. Even if the heir is caught, he should not lose his temper to this extent.
However, Corleone can tell that although this guy is indeed holding back his anger, at least half of his blushing and thick-necked look is staged.
After all, Small Council has ended long ago, and Randyll has no idea what agreement these people present reached during his absence.
He gained Small Council's support by counting his contributions in detail.
However, Randyll·Tarly's impassioned speeches did not win people's sympathy. Instead, the nobles looked at him with strange eyes.
Even the old woman Olenna·Redwyne just slowly picked up a piece of baked apple pie and put it into her mouth to chew, as if nothing happened just now.
Damn it.
Randyll My heart skipped a beat, what did I miss?
However, at this moment, Rorge, who had just been pushed away by him, came forward and said very seriously, "You have disturbed the normal progress of the banquet, Mr. Tarly."
"The reason why the people downstairs did not stop you is because Mr. Corleone gave the order, but please do not regard this tacit consent as connivance."
"Black Hand Mafia's face cannot be trampled upon by anyone."
As soon as he finished speaking, more than a dozen Black Hand Mafia elites wearing dark leather armor filed in from outside the door, looking indifferently at Randyll, Tarly and the Horn Hill knights behind him.
Rorge met Randyll's gaze and said word by word, "Please let your men out."
Although there is not much difference in the number of people, this is always Corleone's territory, and all the adults of Small Council are here.
Randyll·Tarly is not an idiot. If you continue to confront each other in this situation, you will only become more passive.
After a moment of silence, he raised his right hand and waved behind him.
The adjutant breathed a sigh of relief and led the Horn Hill knights out of the banquet hall, and the door was closed again.
Randyll made such a fuss, the originally high atmosphere in the banquet hall obviously cooled down, and there was no longer the same interest as when Rui Frey·Lake was present.
Only then did Corleone stand up from his seat, but instead of walking towards Randyll, he slowly came to Bronn, patted him on the shoulder, and said meaningfully.
"Last night, Bronn Commander reported something to me, Mr. Randyll·Tarly."
"He said someone reported that your son, Mr. Dickon·Tarly, was drunk and causing trouble at Street of Silk. The nature was not serious. According to the rules, City Watch sent someone to bring the person back and asked for a few words before settling the matter."
"But Bronn Commander told me that he could not mobilize any of Gold Cloaks's men, not even one."
Saying that, Corleone sighed, "As City Watch Commander, I was ignored by my subordinates. In this case, I had to come to me, Hand of the King, to report."
"I shouldn't have said this, but Bronn actually cried when he found me..
"When a man cries, especially a man who has fought bravely on the battlefield and made meritorious deeds, he must have encountered unsolvable difficulties."
As Corleone narrated, Bronn lowered his head in time, and even raised his hand to wipe the corners of his eyes with his sleeves.
Of course, it's done.
However, the two sang in harmony, which still aroused the sympathy of some people who were invited to the banquet.
Sighing again, Corleone looked at Randyll·Tarly again. "I never refuse help from my friends, so I lent some people to Bronn Commander."
"Now he has been brought back and locked in the detention room at the bottom of the house. No one has ever lynched him. They just asked him to sober up inside."
"It's just that I'm confused, Master Randyll·Tarly."
"Can you explain to me why, as City Watch Commander, your direct subordinate, even ten Gold Cloaks cannot be mobilized?"
He asked in a leisurely manner, but anyone could hear the stern question in his tone.
As agents Hand of the King, Corleone do have enough power and obligation to intervene in this matter. After all, Master of Laws relies on power to evade his direct subordinates. What are you planning to do?
Randyll·Tarly's expression suddenly changed. If he admitted that he had sidelined Bronn, it would be equivalent to admitting that Master of Laws had overstepped his authority and intervened in the garrison in the city. This was almost admitting in front of everyone that he was prepared to control King's Landing at any time.
Especially based on the lessons learned from Tywin·Lannister, the nobles in King's Landing are quite disgusted with this kind of thing.
"These days, the security situation in King's Landing is severe, and a large number of manpower need to be mobilized to fight against criminal gangs. Therefore, I have to arrange for my subordinates to be stationed in City Watch to facilitate unified dispatch and command."
Randyll·Tarly quickly found an excuse, but the more he talked about it, the less confident he became.
After all, everyone present knew very well that Randyll's so-called "fighting against crime" meant that all actions were aimed at only one target from beginning to end, and that was Black Hand Mafia.
However, Corleone didn't seem to intend to delve into this issue, and just nodded. "Fighting crime is indeed Master of Laws's duty."
"So have you made any progress these days, or... have you found any evidence?"
"Of course there is..." As soon as he said this, Randyll·Tarly put his hand into his sleeve and prepared to take out the evidence, but at the moment he was about to pull out the document, he suddenly caught a glimpse of the brain lying on the ground.
There was another "thump" in his heart, and he instinctively noticed something.
Why is this eunuch lying here with his head covered in fucking vomit?
Drunk?
So addicted to alcohol?
Can you get yourself drunk under the noses of House of Order and Corleone?
But before he could react, Rorge had already arrived in front of him. He couldn't help but pull out the stack of parchment from Randyll·Tarly's sleeves and held it in front of Corleone.
After lowering his head and carefully examining the contents on the parchment, Corleone said in a serious tone, "I have to admit, Lord Tarly, you have collected such detailed evidence in just a few days. Each charge is accompanied by witness confessions and autographs. The procedures are complete and organized. This efficiency is much higher than when Lord Kevan·Lannister was in office."
"But I really didn't expect that I would have so many scoundrels under my command, extorting and hurting people, violently coercing people, seriously injuring and maiming people, and even committing murder!"
"If all these evidences are true, then as their employer and Hand of the King, I will definitely order them all to be arrested immediately and dealt with according to law!"
Saying that, under the incredible eyes of Randyll·Tarly, Corleone actually ordered Rorge: "Go and call Yego and the Hound!"
Rorge left in response.
Not long after, the side door was pushed open again, and the Hound and Yego walked into the banquet hall one after the other.
Three people stood in a row.
Corleone picked up the stack of parchment from the table and walked to the three of them, handing the parchment to their hands one by one, as if the boss of a sales company was handing out a task list.
"Look what good things you have done."
While he was speaking, he kept talking. "Rorge, seven cases of extortion, three cases of illegal detention, one case of intentional injury and disability, and his left hand was smashed with a shovel!"
"Yego, seriously injured more than ten Lannister soldiers, three of whom died of their injuries."
"The Hound, your record is the most outstanding. You set up private torture chambers, violently coerced businessmen into signing unequal contracts, and beat Gold Cloaks officers to death in the street..."
"The most exciting one is that he threw Butcher from the second floor of the Bacon Street who refused to sell his shop, causing him to be paralyzed for life!"
Hearing this, Rorge was the first to look down at the document and actually laughed out loud.
"You still have the nerve to smile?" Corleone scolded pretending to be serious, but the corners of his mouth couldn't help but raise slightly.
"You know me, my lord."
Rorge threw the parchment on the ground and spread out his hands. "If I did all these things, that guy would have more than just broken one of his hands.
19
"I will cut off his tongue and poke out his eyes and ears so that he will never dare to fight against us again in his next life. I will only smash one hand?"
"Ha... this is looking down on me too much." His tone was very disdainful.
Hearing this, Corleone shook his head angrily and looked at Yego: "What about you?"
"You know me, Blood of My Blood."
Although Dothraki didn't know how to read, he at least understood what Corleone said before, and said with a proud look on his face, "We agreed to go to counter the rebellion. Only those who are strong enough can survive in Dothraki."
"They want to rebel even though they don't have the strength. They deserve to die!"
As soon as these words came out, several people couldn't help but let out a burst of laughter, which reached Corleone's ears. He seemed to be a little angry and shook his head repeatedly.
He didn't speak and looked at the last person.
"You know me, Corleone." The Hound crossed his arms, his expression could even be said to be quite disdainful.
"I have never done any of these things, but if I took action, I would not leave a single person alive."
After the Hound finished speaking, everyone present nodded.
After all, in the eyes of the King's Landing nobles, the two House Clegane brothers are no different at all, they are both cruel and vicious guys.
"You mean that an upright person like Randyll·Tarly Earl would use false evidence to frame you?"
Seeing the three people talking so harshly, Corleone seemed to hate the iron.
"I didn't say that." The Hound shook his head.
"All I want to say is...
.. this fucking shit is all fucking bullshit!"
"Hahahaha!!!"
As soon as these words came out, the entire banquet hall burst into laughter and was filled with joy.
Corleone sighed softly, silently picking up the parchment on the ground like a tired old father, tidied it up and handed it to Randyll·Tarly.
"Look, Master Tarly, I have asked."
"They all said it wasn't them... at least not exactly what you said."
"Of course, we can't just accept one side of the story."
"If you think these guys are lying, why not invite the witnesses in these documents to confront these incompetent men of mine?"
As soon as these words came out, Randyll·Tarly's face turned extremely ugly.
So arrogant!!!
In front of so many people, these criminals not only showed no fear at all when faced with such conclusive evidence of crime, but instead playfully argued in front of them, completely ignoring him as Master of Laws!
"Of course we have to confront you!"
Randyll·Tarly almost gritted his teeth and said, "I will send someone to call...
However, just before he finished speaking, a burst of rough laughter suddenly sounded from the other end of the banquet hall.
I saw a burly middle-aged man who seemed to be drunk. He suddenly jumped up from his seat, stepped on the table, stretched out his hand to pull up the female companion next to him, and started dancing.
Several drunken guests around were slapping the table and making noises, even whistling and tapping their wine glasses on the table to make the beat.
Damn... isn't it the Butcher who is paralyzed?
Randyll·Tarly's brain suddenly shut down.
What do you mean by the way you walk like flying? Your dance steps are even more proficient than yours, Horn Hill Earl!
Before Randyll could recover from the shock, another man passed by the long table carrying a plate. At the same time, he held a fork in his left hand and put a piece of grilled, sizzling and oily steak into his mouth.
Randyll·Tarly There was another "buzz" in my head.
Because this guy is clearly the leather merchant who reported that his left hand was smashed by Rorge with a shovel!
But now, that hand is growing perfectly on the wrist, without even a scar!
And he clearly remembered that he had personally confirmed it at that time. The bachelors shook their heads and said that this hand must be useless in this life!
But why...
.. why.
At this moment, Randyll·Tarly caught a glimpse of Corleone's dark eyes, staring directly at him, and a flash of inspiration suddenly flashed in his mind.
That's it!
No wonder Black Hand Mafia's criminal evidence has been collected so smoothly these days. It's like the witnesses are lining up waiting for him. Each one of them has complete evidence and clear confessions!
No wonder Varys, who had refused to cooperate with the previous attempts, suddenly became so hard-working, sending the compiled information over before dawn every day, sometimes even getting up earlier than him!
It's all fucking fake!
By the way..
Randyll I have heard that Medicine of Corleone seems to be very powerful. It is said that Oberyn Martell was even saved from multiple fatal injuries.
Maybe those scars are all illusions created by him!
Fuck!
Randyll·Tarly finally understood that Corleone could never be someone who "just woke up last night". This man might even have woken up on the first day of his coma, dormant in the dark, waiting to kill him.
"Tarly-sama?"
Suddenly, Corleone's voice came slowly, interrupting Randyll·Tarly's chaotic thoughts.
Randyll raised his head and saw Corleone looking at him calmly with those dark eyes.
"Do you have any witnesses?"
"Or if you can't find anyone, you might as well give me a few names and I can call them over for you and identify them one by one."
Hearing this, Randyll·Tarly opened his mouth and swallowed back the curse words halfway up his throat.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
From Olenna·Redwyne's intriguing attitude, to that Butcher jumping on the table and dancing, he knew that he had completely lost the game.
"I... have no witnesses."
Randyll·Tarly gritted his teeth, raised his arms and pointed at Varys lying on the ground, and angrily shouted, "This damn eunuch gave me all this information!"
"He said that the witnesses were all found to be true and the evidence could withstand any confrontation, but I believed this guy's rumors and failed to fulfill my responsibility to verify them."
"I'm sorry, as Master of Laws, I have an unshirkable responsibility in this matter, Master Corleone."
I have to say that this Horn Hill Earl is also well versed in the art of leadership. Although he keeps saying that responsibility must not be shied away, the meaning of all his words is to shirk responsibility.
"Really?"
Corleone After hearing this explanation, there was no expression on his face. He just casually picked up a glass of red wine from the table and shook it gently.
"You have no witnesses, but I do."