Chapter 33 Chapter 32 Tyrion

Outside the King's Gate there was nothing but mud and ash and charred bones, but the homeless had pitched their tents again in the shadow of the walls, and there were people selling their catch in barrels and carts.Tyrion rode through the crowd, aware of countless eyes on him: cold, angry, even loathing.But no one spoke, and no one dared to stand in his way—thanks to Bronn in glossy black armor at his side.Had I been out alone, I'd have been dragged off my horse and pebbled to pieces like Sir Preston Greenfield. "These guys are more annoying than rats," he complained. "You burned their kennels, and they didn't learn a lesson."

"Hmph, give me dozens of golden robes, and I'll kill them all," Bronn said, "the dead will never come back." "It's useless, killing is endless, let them go... But no matter what, as long as these messy things appear beside the city wall, I will pull them down immediately. No matter what these idiots think, the war is not over after all." He said Ride towards the mud gate. "That's all for today's inspection. Tomorrow, we will call all trade unions and bring the masters together to discuss the reconstruction plan." He sighed, well, the burning is probably due to me, and something must be done to remedy it.

The job should have gone to his stalwart, dependable, tireless uncle Kevan Lannister, but the sergeant was utterly devastated when word came from Riverrun that his son William had been murdered.At present, William's twin brother Martin is also Robb Stark's prisoner, and their elder brother Lancel is still sick in bed, with festering wounds, and it is difficult to recover.Ser Kevan had only three sons, and seeing that he could not keep any of them, he was overwhelmed with sorrow and fear.Tywin has always relied heavily on his younger brother, but now he has no choice but to entrust the director's courage to the dwarf son.

The cost of rebuilding is outrageous, but it has to be done, because King's Landing is the second largest port in the country, second only to Old Town in scale, and the river must be dredged as soon as possible to resume trade.Where the hell is the money coming from?He even began to miss Littlefinger who sailed away half a month ago.He's all right, off to marry Lysa Arryn and rule the Vale while I clean up his mess.Fortunately, this time his father was finally willing to entrust him with the heavy responsibility.Hell, he will never nominate me as heir to Casterly Rock, but he will use me no matter what. Didn't he appoint me acting Prime Minister last time?The captain of the Golden Robe Guards cleared the way for him in front of the mud door, and Tyrion thought quietly.

The courtesans of King's Landing still rule the market square within the gates, but it is now deserted, strewn about with stones and barrels of pitch.Playful children climbed the long wooden throwing arms and dangled on them like a troop of monkeys, chasing each other. "Remind me later that Ser Adam will assign gold robes to watch over here," Tyrion told Bronn as he rode between the catapults. There was a shout, and a pile of horse manure was thrown not far in front of the Chancellor of the Exchequer.Tyrion's mount reared up, nearly tossing him. "Think about it," he said as he tried to rein in his horse. "It's better to leave it alone and let these young brats fall down like cooked pumpkins and smash them to pieces."

He was already in a bad mood, but now these urchins humiliated him in public, which made him even more angry.Day after day, marriage became his greatest distress.Sansa Stark is still a virgin, and most of the castle seems to know it!When riding this morning, he heard two stable boys chattering and giggling behind their backs.He felt that even the horses were mocking him.For a long time, Tyrion patiently pretended to fulfill his obligations every night, hoping that the truth of the marriage would not be revealed, but it was all useless.I wonder if Sansa is stupid enough to confide in her maid? — they were all Cersei's, no doubt — or was Varys' little bird at work?

What's the difference?Anyway, the result was that he was belittled.In the entire Red Castle, the only one who doesn't take this as a laughing stock seems to be his "Madam". Sansa was also miserable.Tyrion often tried to break her armor of politeness and give her the comfort of a man, but he knew it was useless.No matter how beautiful his words are, in her eyes, he is actually an ugly monster.Besides, he was a Lannister.This is the wife they gave him, this is the woman he is going to spend his life with.She hates him. Bed-sharing nights are a source of pain.Tyrion was used to sleeping naked, but now he couldn't stand it.His wife had been trained very gracefully, and never said a word of contradictory words, but whenever she saw his body, the look in her eyes was simply embarrassing.So he told her to put on her nightgown.I want her, he thought, yes, I want Winterfell too, but she is what I want most of all, children or women.I want to comfort her, I want to hear her laugh, I want her to be happy with me, I want her to share with me joy, pain, sorrow and desire.Thinking of this, he smiled bitterly.Yeah, I wish I was as big as Jaime and as strong as the Mountain.Gods have mercy!

He couldn't help thinking of Shae.Tyrion didn't want to hide the news of the marriage from her, and the day before the wedding, he asked Varys to bring her to meet him.They share the bed in the eunuch's bedroom, and when Shae undresses him, he grabs her by the wrist and pushes her away. "Wait," he said, "I have something to tell you. Tomorrow... I'm going to..." "...Sansa Stark is married. I know." He was speechless for a long while.Even Sansa herself didn't know about this, how could she...? "How do you know? Varys told it?" "While I was taking Norris to the sept to pray, I overheard a bartender gossiping with Ser Tallard, and he heard it from a maid who happened to overhear Ser Kevan talking to your father." She broke free. Grip and pull the garment fluidly over your head.As before, no underwear underneath. "I'm not worried, she's just a baby, you're going to get her big and come back to me."

A part of him longed to believe her.Believe her, he thought bitterly and sarcastically, alas, midget, Shae is everything you desire. The muddy road was crowded with people, but driven by the golden robes, soldiers and civilians gave way for the imp's team.Children with sunken eyes gathered around, some staring silently, some begging loudly.Tyrion took a handful of coppers from his purse and tossed them, and the children were scrambling over each other, shouting and jostling.A lucky one of them might get a loaf of moldy bread tonight.The Market Square had never been so crowded, and the Tyrells had brought in countless supplies, but the price of food was still ridiculously high.Six copper coins bought a pumpkin, a silver deer was worth a pile of corn, and a golden dragon was worth a knife of beef or six scrawny piglets.Even so, buyers are still in an endless stream.Haggard men and women surrounded every carriage and every stall, while the miserable and helpless stood at the entrance of the alley, watching gloomily.

"This way..." Bronn asked when they came to the mouth of Hook Alley, "Do you want to go...?" "That's right." The visit to the Riverside was a cover; Tyrion had another purpose.He didn't want to do it, but he had no choice.So they left Aegon's High Hill, toward the maze of winding alleys at the bottom of Visenia Hill.Bronn led the way, and Tyrion looked back from time to time to see if there was any eyeliner following him, but he found nothing unusual: only a salesman driving a carriage, an old woman pouring a chamber pot by the window, two children fighting with sticks, The three gold robes escorting the captives... They all looked innocent, but he was not at ease.Varys the octospider is not so easy to deceive.

They turned one corner, then another, and rode slowly past a group of women.Bronn led him a long way down winding narrow alleys, past broken arches.The horse's hooves "gotta" stepped on the stone steps, and there was a charred horse corpse in the battle on the steps.The buildings here were short and crowded, and when Bronn stopped at the entrance of an alley, the road ahead could no longer allow two people to ride together. "Turn two bends ahead, and the guy's in the cellar of the last house." Tyrion rolled off his horse. "No one is allowed in or out until I return. I will not stay long." He reached into his cloak to make sure the golden dragons were still in the hidden pouch.Thirty golden dragons!What a windfall for the rascal.He walked quickly into the alley, thinking only of getting things done quickly. The tavern was so small, dark and dank, with saltpeter on the walls and such a low ceiling that Bronn had to bow his head when he entered.Tyrion Lannister has no such worries.At this time, there was only a woman with dull eyes sitting behind the rough wooden bar in the front hall. She handed him a glass of sour wine and said, "He's in the back." The back room was darker, save for a flickering candle on a low table, next to a jug of wine.The man at the table was very obscene, and he was short--the so-called "short" was not referring to Tyrion--sparse brown hair, pink cheeks, and a buckskin jacket buttoned with bone buttons could not hide his appearance. pregnant.He held a twelve-string wooden harp tightly in his soft hands. Tyrion sat down across from him. "Simon the Silver Tongue?" The other party nodded. He was already bald in the center of his head. "My lord," he replied. "Wrong, the current prime minister is my father. I'm just his servant." "You will develop again, I believe, I believe, there are not many people with such ability as you. Dear Miss Shae told me that you got married recently, why don't you call me? Let me perform for your wedding banquet A song." "That's enough, my wife can't stand chatter," said Tyrion. "As for Shae, we both know she's not some noble lady, and I'd be very grateful if you didn't mention her name." "As you order, my lord Prime Minister," Simon said. Tyrion remembered that the last time he had seen him, a few words could have made him sweat, but now the singer had found some courage.Maybe it was the jug of wine, or maybe it was my own mistake--I threatened him but never realized, and he must have thought of me as a toothless lion.Thinking of this, he sighed, "Others say that you are a very talented singer." "It is very kind of you to say so, my lord." Tyrion forced himself to smile, "In my opinion, you should spread your charming music to the Free Cities. Braavos, Pentos, and Lys are all music capitals, and the people there respect a star like you." It can be said to be more respectful." He took a sip of his wine.Bad and heavy. "You can travel around the nine major city-states and enjoy the joy of music. Even if you stay in one city for a year, you will never be bored." He reached into the cloak and touched the hidden gold coin. "The port needs to be rebuilt at the moment, so I have to trouble you to go to Duskendale City to take a boat. Remember, my subordinate Bronn will prepare a good horse for you, and I will gladly provide travel expenses..." "But, my lord," protested the other, "you haven't heard me sing. Listen to one at least, will you?" His fingers deftly reached the strings, and soft music filled the cellar.Simon sang: He gallops through the streets of the city, leaving the high hills The horse trod the cobbled alley and led him to the girl She is his precious treasure, she is his shy expectation Necklace and castle are empty, not as good as a girl's kiss "It's not over," the singer declared when taking a breath, "Oh, it's very long, especially the refrain, I think it's very well written: the golden hand is cold to the touch, but the girl's small palm is warm..." "Enough," said Tyrion, drawing his fist out of his cloak and laying the money on the table. "Don't let me hear this song again, or..." "Otherwise?" Silver Tongue Simon let go of the harp and took a sip of wine, "It's a pity, it's a pity. But to be honest, as my master taught, everyone has their own songs, which you can't deny. Well, since You don't like it, so I have to find someone who knows the goods. Maybe, to the Queen Mother? Your father?" Tyrion rubbed the scar on his nose and said slowly, "My father didn't care much for singers, and my old sister is not as generous as some people think. A wise singer should know that sometimes silence is better than singing." more." He thought he had said enough. Simon didn't ignore his hint. "My price is fair, my lord." "Very well," Tyrion worried at first that thirty golden dragons would not be enough to settle the matter, "tell me." "At King Joffrey's wedding feast," said the other party, "there will be a great performance by the singers." "Yes, mummers, clowns, and dancing bears." "There's only one bear, my lord," said Simon, who obviously cared more about Cersei's elaborate arrangement than Tyrion, "but there were seven singers. Including Geleon of the Cue family, Bethany the 'Club Finger', Aemon Cotoin, Arik the Isan, Hamisi the Fiddler, Corrillo Quinyantis, and Orlando of Oldtown, will compete against each other for a gilded silver stringed harp... Unfortunately, no one invited the most powerful singer in King's Landing." "Let me guess, you mean Silver Tongue Simon?" Simon smiled modestly, "Your Majesty, don't worry, I will prove my strength in front of the king and the court. I am not boasting, look at Nahamisi, who is too old to memorize the lyrics, and Corrillo, with With a ridiculous Tyroshi accent! You can't understand a single sentence out of three." "The performance is arranged by my dear old sister, and I have no way to intervene. Taking a step back, even if you are inserted in, it seems very incongruous. You see, seven kingdoms, seven vows, seven challenges, seventy-seven dishes How did eight singers do it? How does the Archbishop comment on it?" "I am astonished at your piousness, my lord." "It doesn't matter whether I am pious or not, the key is that the form cannot be changed." Simon took another sip of his wine, "Actually...we are singers, and our lives are very cheap. We perform in hotels and hotels, and most of the audience are lawless drunks. If any of the seven candidates your sister considered gets out Unexpectedly, I think I can completely replace it." He smiled slyly, as if he was satisfied with his hint. "Hmph, that's right, six and eight are just as bad. Well then, I'll check their status one by one. If anyone is truly incompetent, I'll send Bronn to notify you." "Very good, very good, my lord." Simon was very proud, and in the joy of victory, he became eloquent, "I will perform well at King Joffrey's wedding banquet, presenting the best civil and military talents of the whole court." Works, those good ballads that I have played and sung thousands of times. In the past, I was buried in the alleys of wineries... Now... By the way, this is also the best opportunity for new songs to play. The golden hands are cold to the touch, and the girl's small palms Hot..." "Don't worry," said Tyrion. "On my honor as a Lannister, Bronn will come to you soon." "Very well, my lord." The bald, pot-bellied singer picked up the harp again, lost in his dream. Bronn and the horse were waiting at the entrance of the alley.As he helped Tyrion to mount, he asked, "When am I taking this guy to Duskendale?" "No." Tyrion turned his horse. "Come back in three days and tell him that Hamisi the Fiddler has broken his arm. Afterwards you have to point out that his attire is completely unsuitable for the court, and that new robes must be made immediately, and ask him to go with you immediately. He will be happy." Tyrion grimaced. "You may keep his tongue—if only it were a silver tongue. The rest, cleanly and utterly disappear from the world." Bronn grinned, "There are many cafeterias in the flea nest that specialize in a kind of brown soup. I heard that there are all kinds of meat in it." "Well, I won't eat anyway." Tyrion kicked forward.He wants to take a bath, the hotter the better. It's a pity that he didn't enjoy this comfort, as soon as he got to the room, Podrick Payne told him to rush to the Prime Minister's Tower immediately. "My lord wants to see you, I mean, my lord Prime Minister, Lord Tywin." "I know who the Hand is," said Tyrion. "I lost my nose, but not my brain." Bronn couldn't help laughing, "Don't scare this kid into a fool." "Does it matter? He never thinks anyway." Tyrion felt that something was wrong, did his father also know?Tywin wouldn't ask him for dinner or drinks, there must be something wrong. When he walked into his father's study, he heard someone explaining: "...the scabbard is made of cherry wood, wrapped in red leather, decorated with a row of pure gold lion heads, and the eyes are made of garnet..." "Rubies," said Lord Tywin, "garnets lack fire." Tyrion cleared his throat. "You want me, my lord?" Father raised his eyes and said, "That's right, come and see this first." There was an oilcloth package on the table, and the Duke held a long sword in his hand. "It's a wedding present for Joffrey," he told Tyrion, examining the blade from side to side, the light shining through the diamond-shaped sill on the black and red blade, and the hilt and pommel shining. With golden light. "The idlers talk about Stannis and his magic sword all day long, and we can't compare it. I will give King Joffrey a special weapon." "Little Jo can't lift that thing," remarked Tyrion. "He will grow up, come on, try it." He handed the long sword hilt forward. It was lighter than he expected.He flipped it up and down, and finally understood the reason—there is only one kind of metal in the world that can be made so thin without losing its deadly power. These ripples are the marks of thousands of years of forging. "A Valyrian steel sword?" "Yes," Lord Tywin said, with extreme satisfaction in his tone. Finally got it, father?The Valyrian steel sword is a rare treasure, only a few thousand have been handed down to this day, about 200 of which are in Westeros, but none belong to the Lannister family, and my father often regrets it.The ancient king of Casterly Rock had a famous Valyrian greatsword "Light Howl". Later, King Tommen II took it to Valyria for a stupid adventure, and both swords were lost.Tyrion's little uncle Jillian, the lively uncle, also disappeared eight years ago on the journey to find the clan sword. Duke Tywin approached impoverished families in the kingdom at least three times and offered to spend a lot of money to buy their Valyrian steel swords, but they were all rejected.The aristocratic family is willing to marry the Lannister family, but the matter of the clan sword is non-negotiable. Tyrion didn't know how he got it.Was it rebuilt?Few weaponsmiths know how to forge Valyrian steel, and the secret to its creation was lost when the doomsday fell on ancient Valyria. "It's a strange color," he remarked, turning the sword over in the daylight.Most Valyrian steel swords are dull to black, but this one had a deep red in it as well.The two colors intersect each other, and each ripple is different, as if the dark night and the blood-red waves are fighting each other. "What's going on? I've never seen such a sword." "Neither have I, my lord," said the weapon-master. "I must admit the color was not what I expected, and I am amazed at the finished product. Your lord father asked me to dye the sword the color of House Lannister." Scarlet, I obeyed the order. The process was very difficult, and Valyrian steel was extremely stubborn, just like the saying among us craftsmen, "It is easy to shake the mountain, but it is difficult to shake the ancient sword". I used dozens of spells, Bit by bit the red seeped in, and it continued to resist, as if it could absorb all colors. So you see, these ripples are sometimes black and sometimes red, and that's why. My lords Lannister, if you don't Satisfied, I can try again, it's just a matter of time—” "No," said Lord Tywin, "that's fine." "Crimson's sword would be more beautiful, but to be honest, it's as impressive as it is now," Tyrion said. "Its fantastic beauty makes it incomparable. I think this sword is truly unparalleled in the world." "That's right," the weapon master reached out to the table, untied the oilcloth, and took out a second sword. Tyrion put down Joffrey's sword and picked up another.Even if the two swords cannot be called twin brothers, they must be close relatives.It's just that the latter is thicker than the former, and its width and length have increased by half an inch and three inches respectively.The strength and color of the two are exactly the same, and they share two kinds of black and red ripples.This second sword had three deep blood grooves from hilt to tip, the king's sword had only two.Little Joe's hilt is more ornately decorated, with two playful roaring golden lions fighting each other with ruby ​​claws, but both hilts are covered with finely finished red leather, and the round ends are golden lion's heads. "Sword of God," even in the hands of a rookie like Tyrion, this sword seems to have life, "its sense of balance is really incredible." "This one is for my son." No need to ask which son it is.Tyrion silently put down Jaime's sword, wondering if Robb Stark would let his brother back.Father must have got some news, otherwise how could he specialize in making swords? "You have done a good job, Master Mott," Duke Tywin praised the weapon master, "Go, the steward will pay for everything, and don't forget, the scabbard should use rubies." "Yes, my lord, you are so generous." The other party put the two swords back into the oilcloth wrap, tucked them under their armpits, and then knelt down. "It is a great honor to serve the Prime Minister. I will present these two swords the day before the king's wedding." "No delay." Then the guard escorted the weapon master away, and Tyrion climbed onto the stool. "See . . . one for Young Joe and one for Jaime, and your dwarf son doesn't even have a dagger. Isn't that fair, father?" "There's only enough metal to make two swords, not three. If you want a dagger, go to the armory and pick one. Robert has collected more than a hundred fine ones. Among other things, Shan Jilian The one that was given to him as a wedding gift was a strange thing. The blade was plated with gold, the handle was ivory, and the round head was sapphire. There were also a lot of things from exotic lands. Over the past ten years, envoys from overseas countries have understood Robert's temper. , each time offering jeweled daggers and silver-encrusted swords." Tyrion smiled. "If they want to please Robert, they might as well offer their own daughter!" "That's right. Although he loves daggers, he only used one in his life. It was given to him by Jon Arryn when he was a child." Lord Tywin waved his hand, indicating that he would stop talking about King Robert and his dagger. "You went to Hebin to inspect, how is the situation?" "It's a mess," said Tyrion. "There's even dead men and horses left unburied. The Blackwater must be dredged before the harbor reopens, for there are shipwrecks everywhere. And three-quarters of the docks are in dire need of repair." , many parts had to be completely pulled down and rebuilt. The entire fish market was completely destroyed, Linhe Gate and King's Gate were damaged by Stannis' battering ram, and they had to be replaced... The total cost is huge." Don't you have gold in your shit? ,Father?Find a convenient place quickly.He wanted to say that, but wisely kept his mouth shut. "Finding money is your job." "Really? Where? I told you, the treasury was empty. In fact, we haven't even settled the bills of the alchemist and blacksmith, and Cersei wants me to pay half of Joffrey's wedding—" —Think about those seventy-seven damn dishes, a thousand guests, giant pies full of pigeons, singers, actors..." "Extravagance has its uses. This is the best opportunity to show the wealth and power of Casterly Rock to the world." "Then the cost should be charged to Casterly Rock." "What's going on? I've seen Littlefinger's ledger. After his management, the financial revenue has increased tenfold compared to Aerys's time." "You can't see how much the expenses have gone up! Robert squandered his money as generously as he squandered his 'seed.' Besides, Littlefinger borrowed most of his money--as you should be well aware, he borrowed most from you. Yes, he did make a fortune, but unfortunately the increased wealth was offset by the interest on the loan. Will you write off the debt owed to the Lannisters by the treasury?" "Of course not." "Then, in my opinion, seven courses are quite sufficient, and the number of guests should be reduced to three hundred. In fact, a good wedding can be held without any dancing bears." "In that case, the Tyrells will treat us like misers. My resolution remains the same. The wedding and the reconstruction of the riverside must be carried out. If you can't find the money, I will change the Chancellor of the Exchequer." Such a quick departure would embarrass Tyrion. "...Damn it, I'll go find it!" "It is your duty," said the father, "and besides, you must find your wife's bed." Sure enough, he knew. "I know where it is, thank you for your concern. This piece of furniture is between the window and the fireplace, with a velvet cover and a goose-feather mattress. "I'm glad you haven't forgotten. The next step is to try to understand and conquer the woman in this bed." woman?She is still a child. "Is the octospider whispering in your ear, or should I thank my dear old sister?" Cersei's own bed secret, which Tyrion never revealed, he thought she wouldn't go too far. "Tell me, why are all of Sansa's maids Cersei's men? They don't even spare my bedroom, it's disgusting!" "If you don't like anyone, you can drive them away and hire them again. This is your right as the head of the family. All I care about is when you can fulfill your marriage obligations. To be honest, I am a little confused. You What's wrong with this Stark girl who's famous for messing with whores?" "What the hell does it matter to you who I put my fucking cock in?" Tyrion demanded. "Sansa's young." "Still young? As soon as her brother dies, she will be the master of Winterfell. The sooner you possess her, the closer you will be to the status of Lord of the North. The key is to get her pregnant. Need I remind? There is no perfect marriage. It can be abolished at any time!" "That's a matter for the archbishop or the religious council. I don't think there is any need to worry. Our dear archbishop is just a rubber stamp. If you tell him to say one thing, he dare not say another thing. He is more obedient than Yuetong." "Maybe I should give Sansa Stark to Moonboy, at least he knows how to deal with women." Tyrion gripped the arm of the chair tightly. "That's enough, I've heard enough of this talk about my wife. Now that we're at it, why don't we talk about my sister's impending wedding? Remember—" Lord Tywin would not let him finish, "Mace Tyrell refused to let his heir Vilas marry Cersei." "Reject our lovely Cersei?" Tyrion began to feel amused. "Lord Tyrell didn't seem to object when I first suggested it," said my father, "but a day later it all changed. It was the old woman who did everything she could to frighten his son. Varys said she told the Duke that your sister was too old and dissolute to have her precious one-legged grandson." "Cersei might like him," Tyrion smiled. Lord Tywin gave his son a hard look. "She didn't know about this proposal, and I'm not going to let her know. From now on, for our family, this matter has never happened. Remember clearly, it has never happened." "Really?" Tyrion suspected his father would make Lord Tyrell "pay the debt" for it at some point in the future. "The essence of the problem has not changed at the moment. Your sister must marry out, but who should she change to? I have several candidates--" Before he could say anything, there was a knock on the door, and a guard informed the Pycelle University Please see me. "Ask him to come in," said Lord Tywin. Leaning on a cane, Pycelle approached tremblingly, and in the middle of the walk, he stared at Tyrion with eyes that seemed to be able to freeze milk.What he once described as a sizable white beard - after someone had unfortunately shaved it off - was thin and brittle, with only a few unsightly pink strands hanging down his chin. "My lord," said the old man, bowing as best he could, "there's another raven at Castle Black. Can we speak privately?" "No need," Duke Tywin waved his hand to let the national teacher sit down, "Tyrion can stay." Oh oh oh, huh?He rubbed his nose and listened attentively to the next topic. Pycelle cleared his throat and coughed for a long time. "This letter is the same as last time. It was sent by the man named Bowen Marsh. He claimed to be the acting castellan. The letter said that Lord Mormont found a large number of wildlings heading south." "The land beyond the Great Wall can supply a very limited number of people, so—" Lord Tywin was unmoved, "—this kind of warning is really clichéd." "But, my lord, this time Mormont's report came from the Haunted Wood, saying that he was being attacked. The ravens returned shortly afterward, but none of them had a message, so this Bowen Marsh thinks that Lord Mormont and the Night's Watch patrol have been caught." Tyrion was rather fond of old Jeor Mormont, for his gruff humor and talking bird. "Is the news confirmed?" he asked. "Not sure," Pycelle admitted. "Based on the fact that none of Mormont's party returned, Bowen Marsh surmises that they were all killed by the wildlings, who aimed for the Wall." He reached into his robes. He took out a piece of letter paper, "This is the original letter, my lord, sent to the five kings, begging to send all the manpower that can be found to him." "Five kings?" My father was rather displeased. "There is only one king in Westeros. These idiots in black want to get some money from His Majesty. They must know the current affairs first. When you write back, tell him, Renly lost his life, and the others were nothing but traitors." "They will understand, my lord. After all, the Great Wall is located in a remote place, and there is no news about it," Pycelle stretched his neck. "Then, what about Marsh's request? It seems that an imperial meeting should be held..." "It's unnecessary. The so-called night watchman army is just a collection of thieves, bastards, murderers, and peasants. They can take care of themselves. Of course, if someone restrains them, they can also be used by me. Now is the opportunity, Mo Ermon is dead, and they need a new commander." Pycelle gave Tyrion a sinister look, "You really hit the nail on the head, my lord, I just happen to have the right man, Janos Slynt." Tyrion did not like the suggestion. "The Lord Commander of the Night's Watch has always been elected by the brothers in black," he reminded them, "and Lord Slynt is only a newcomer. I know his situation very well, and I sent him there. In a short time Today, how could he surpass his predecessors to be elected?" "Because," said his father slowly—in a tone that seemed to mock Tyrion's innocence, "they won't get a single reinforcement if they don't choose him." Damn, it was a tough move, Tyrion leaned forward, "But father, please listen to me, Janos Slynt is really incompetent, the leader of the Shadow Tower and Eastwatch is better than him .” "The captain of the Shadow Tower's defense is from the Mallister family in Sea Front City, and the one from Eastwatch is an ironborn." Obviously, Duke Tywin did not believe that they could be used by him. "Janos Slynt is the butcher's son," Tyrion went on to advise his father. "You told me yourself—" "I remember what I said, but Castle Black is not Harrenhal, and the Night's Watch is not the Council. Every tool has a purpose, and every task requires a special tool." Tyrion was annoyed by his father's stubbornness. "Listen, Lord Geros is a villain who doesn't deserve his name, and whoever bids the most will pay him." "I regard this as his greatest merit, and who can bid more than us?" He turned to Pycelle, "write at once and tell them King Joffrey's death in the line of Lord Lord Mormont. I feel great admiration for the noble behavior and sincere condolences. Unfortunately, due to the rebellion of traitors and thieves, there is no spare manpower for a while. But as long as the future is safe, the problem will be solved naturally... Therefore, the Night Watch Corps must take action to maintain Kingship. At the end of the letter, tell Marsh that, on behalf of His Majesty, I send my most cordial regards to his faithful friend and servant, Lord Geros Slynt." "Yes, my lord." Pycelle nodded his wrinkled head, "You are so smart, I will do it right away." I should have chopped off your head instead of your beard, Tyrion thought, and I should have pushed Slynt into the sea with his dear friend Aral Dim.At least with Simon the Silver Tongue, I didn't make the same mistake.Did you see that, father?He wanted to declare, see how quickly I learn?