How Do You Spend Too Much Money?

(Thanks to Fengshangji for the two monthly votes.)

Early morning.

A convoy of wagons laden with large chests slowly entered King's Landing. Each chest bore a sky-blue falcon soaring above a white moon.

The horses plodded laboriously onward, their wagon wheels leaving deep ruts in the dirt outside the city. Clearly, the cargo was far from light.

At the head of the convoy rode the gray-haired Brynden Tully, weariness showing in his blue eyes.

He was utterly exhausted...

He had vehemently opposed Lysa Tully's unilateral decision to "lend" Baelish one and a half million Gold Dragons.

But a woman in love was always unreasonable. Following her womanly instincts, Lysa had actually resorted to tears, tantrums, and threats of hanging herself against her own uncle.

Unable to stand against her, Brynden had finally agreed to escort the Gold Dragons to King's Landing himself.

Anyone with eyes could tell what they were transporting, but fortunately, the Vale of Arryn's insignia on the wagons had deterred most bandits outright.

With a full contingent of heavily armed Vale knights slaughtering the few bands of fools who crossed their path, they had brought the Gold Dragons safely to King's Landing.

He flicked his cloak angrily, sending the black trout emblazoned on its red-and-blue stripes fluttering in the wind.

Brynden had already made up his mind. If Baelish showed the slightest reluctance to repay the money, he would take the Gold Dragons straight back to the Vale.

What he did not know was that Baelish's tenure as Master of Coin was long over, and by now, even his soul had probably returned to the embrace of the Seven.

Entering King's Landing through the Old Gate, Brynden's party headed straight for the Street of Silk. Baelish's reputation as the greatest pimp in the Seven Kingdoms was simply too well known...

But as they rode on, Brynden noticed something amiss.

Clean... far too clean!

It was not his first visit to King's Landing. Though his last visit had been many years ago, he could not recall ever seeing streets this clean, even inside the Red Keep!

The stone paving had been swept spotless. It almost seemed to reflect the sunlight, as though it had been waxed.

There was not a soul along the roadside where whores should have been soliciting customers. Had he not repeatedly checked with the knights beside him, Brynden might have thought he had come to the wrong place!

While he was puzzling over this, a balding man in colorful robes blocked their way.

"My dear knights of the Vale, your timing is most unfortunate."

The man bowed politely to Brynden and his companions, explaining in a slightly apologetic tone:

"The Street of Silk is currently undergoing reorganization. If you gentlemen are looking for some amusement, please return the morning after tomorrow."

"Reorganization?"

A flicker of confusion crossed Brynden's eyes, but they had not come to visit whores. He immediately called out:

"I am Brynden Tully, Knight of the Bloody Gate, from the Eyrie."

"I have come on the orders of Lord Robin Arryn. Go and tell Littlefinger to come out and meet us!"

Now it was the colorfully dressed man's turn to be puzzled. Was news really that slow to reach the Vale?

But neither the lord of the Eyrie nor someone bearing the name Tully was anyone he could afford to offend. He could only explain again in a conciliatory tone:

"The honorable Lord Brynden, Lord Baelish left King's Landing long ago. All the businesses on this street now belong to Lord Tyrion of House Lannister. Did you not know?"

"What!"

Inside the Gold Cloaks' training grounds.

Dressed in leather armor with a horned helmet on his head, Gendry swung a heavy warhammer with a powerful whoosh.

Opposite him stood Lorien, wielding a two-handed greatsword and concentrating fully on the fight.

Unlike the relaxed Gendry, Lorien was panting heavily. The swordsmanship he normally took such pride in gave him no advantage whatsoever against this fifteen-year-old boy.

There was nothing he could do. His opponent was simply too strong!

Who would have thought this fellow was as strong as an ox? The warhammer weighed dozens of pounds, yet seemed weightless in his hands.

Lorien had no doubt that if he let his guard down for even a moment and that hammer struck him, he would die in the line of duty on his third day with the Gold Cloaks!

Swinging his greatsword with difficulty, Lorien tried to attack Gendry. But whenever he tried to bring his blade down, the other boy's hammer reached him first, forcing him to dodge hastily.

After nearly a minute of this frustrating fight, Lorien finally had enough. He threw down his greatsword, tore off his helmet, and slammed it onto the ground.

"I'm done, damn it!"

"What the hell did this brat grow up eating to get this strong?"

Seeing his gesture of surrender, Gendry simply lowered his warhammer and gave him an honest, good-natured smile.

To Lorien, however, that smile was full of mockery.

"Well, well, Lorien!"

The Lannister knights watching from the sidelines were not about to miss such a perfect opportunity. They immediately began jeering at the furious Lorien.

"Giving up after just a few swings?"

"Aren't you always bragging about your swordsmanship? You even said you could take three of us at once!"

"Maybe you've been practicing all your swordsmanship on women!"

Their remarks grew increasingly outrageous. One of them even pulled down his trousers and wagged his cock at Lorien.

"Fuck, Jero, you idiot!"

Faced with their mockery, Lorien unceremoniously picked up his greatsword, charged over, and shoved it into the man's hands.

"If you've got the balls, go a few rounds with him yourself! Don't just stand there making snide remarks!"

"Not a chance!"

Jero pulled up his trousers disdainfully and tossed the greatsword aside.

What a joke. He was no fool. If even Lorien could not get the better of that boy, what chance did he have?

Jero knew Lorien's abilities perfectly well. A little mockery was enough; it was not worth getting himself paralyzed just to prove a point.

Once the Street of Silk reopened, he still had fallen women to rescue.

"I'll do it."

As they laughed and fooled around, a familiar voice, steady and gentle, sounded behind them.

"Lord Arthas!"

Lorien reacted fastest, immediately straightening his back and pressing his right hand to his chest as he greeted Arthas loudly.

"Lord Arthas!"

"Lord Arthas!"

His shout brought the others to their senses, and they hurried to follow his example.

"No need to be so formal. You're off duty."

With a gentle smile on his face, Arthas seemed like an entirely different person from the one they had seen in the tournament.

He picked up the two-handed greatsword and walked straight into the ring, studying the muscular, powerfully built boy before him with curious golden eyes.

The resemblance was uncanny!

From his very first look at Gendry, Arthas thought his face bore an extraordinary resemblance to Renly's.

Remembering Robert's dissolute nature, he guessed this was probably another product of the muddleheaded king's dalliances somewhere.

But Arthas had no intention of looking into it. Robert had bedded so many whores over the years that having eighty or a hundred bastard sons and daughters would be perfectly normal.

What interested him most was Gendry's fighting ability.

"Your name is Gendry?"

Though all those thoughts flashed through his mind, the gentle smile on Arthas's face did not change.

"Interested in exchanging a few blows with me?"

"Of course, Lord Arthas!"

Looking at the gentle blond youth before him, who was actually half a head taller than he was, Gendry felt incredibly excited.

The feat of taking on seven Kingsguard single-handedly was simply too astonishing. Had news traveled faster, Arthas's name would already have resounded throughout the Seven Kingdoms.

"It would be my honor to face the greatest knight in the Seven Kingdoms!"

"Good. I like your spirit."

His smile deepening, Arthas offered sincere praise at the sight of the boy's eagerness.

"Then let's get started."

"But you haven't put on any armor, my lord!"

Gendry looked in confusion at Arthas's silk robes and could not help reminding him.

"I don't need armor. You can't hurt me."

"That's true..."

Slapping the back of his head, the simplehearted boy gave another honest smile.

"How could I imagine I could hurt the greatest knight in the Seven Kingdoms?"

Then he solemnly raised his massive hammer, took two steps back, and called out a warning:

"Lord Arthas, here I come!"

The instant he finished speaking, Gendry charged at Arthas with the agile strides of a shadowcat.

He raised the enormous iron hammer high and brought it smashing down with a faint whistle through the air!

Clang!

The dull metallic collision of hammer and sword rang out, leaving the watching Lannister knights feeling a tightness in their chests.

"Good strength."

Holding the greatsword in just one hand, Arthas had caught that thunderous blow.

Ever since defeating the seven Kingsguard, he had distinctly felt the magic within his body growing rapidly, bringing a considerable increase in his physical strength as well.

Given a little more time, he was confident he could cleave even a legendary dragon in two with one stroke-provided, of course, it was not Neltharion...

He's too strong!

Rather than discouraging him, his failed strike only excited Gendry further.

Ever since he had begun to mature physically, the strength of boys his age had been nothing compared with his own.

Even among adults, he had never encountered anyone stronger than himself!

Licking his lips excitedly, Gendry raised the massive hammer in both hands again and brought it crashing down with every ounce of his strength!

Seeing his opponent's excitement, Arthas decided to teach the boy a lesson. A slight smile touched his lips as he gripped the greatsword in both hands and swung upward to meet the blow.

With an even louder metallic crash, Gendry's hammer flew straight out of his hands and landed heavily on the ground with a thud.

He stared dumbly at his hands, which had been jarred bloody, unable to believe it. The fierce pain told Gendry this was no dream!

Leaving the boy to question everything he knew, Arthas simply turned and calmly walked out of the ring.

"Have a new greatsword forged tomorrow. I'll reimburse you."

He casually tossed the battered greatsword to Lorien. The poor two-handed blade had borne a weight it should never have had to bear in its lifetime.

Watching Arthas's casually departing figure, Lorien walked slowly over to Gendry and patted his shoulder, knowing he was still deep in self-doubt.

"Snap out of it, boy..."

As Gendry raised his bewildered eyes, a flicker of satisfaction crossed Lorien's gaze. Then he offered some comfort.

"Don't take it too hard. There's no shame in losing to Lord Arthas."

"After all, he's the king of lions!"

"Lancel, what's the hurry?"

Just after leaving the training grounds, Arthas saw Lancel running over in a great rush.

"L-Lord Arthas."

Only after finally catching his breath did Lancel straighten up and report:

"Brynden Tully of the Vale is here. He says he's come on the orders of the lord of the Eyrie, and he's asking specifically for Baelish."

"Our men are keeping them occupied. What would you..."

"The Vale? Brynden Tully, the Blackfish?"

Arthas murmured the words, then seemed to remember something.

He shook his head with a sheepish chuckle. The familiar gentle smile on his face now looked somewhat mercenary.

"Cousin Lancel."

"Tell me, how should we spend our money when we have too much of it?"