Chapter 50 Chapter 50 Tyrion

"If you die foolishly, I'll feed your dead body to the goats," Tyrion threatened, watching as the Stonecrows set off from the docks. Shaga laughed. "Half a man without a goat." "For you, I will buy a few specially." It was already dawn, and the faint light on the river flickered with the waves, shattered under the bracing, and gathered again after the boat passed by.Two days ago, Mei Mei brought the Scorching People into the Royal Forest.Yesterday, the Black Ear Department and the Yueren Department also went.Today it's the stone crow's turn. "You can do what you want, just don't fight," said Tyrion. "Harassing their camps and convoys, ambushing scouts, outflanking stragglers, hanging corpses from trees in their marching path. Besides, I want you to launch night raids from time to time, be frequent, be sudden, and teach them not to sleep— —”

Shagar put his hand on Tyrion's head. "I learned this from Hogg's son Dorf before I grew a beard! That's how battles are fought in the Moon Mountains." "The imperial forest is not the Mingyue Mountains, and you are not fighting against the Milky Snakes or the Painted Dogs. You must follow the guides I assign. They know this forest as well as you know the mountains. Only by accepting their advice can you move freely." "Shagga will obey half-human pets," the native promised solemnly, and led the pony into the boat.Tyrion watched them move away, toward the heart of the Blackwater.Watching Xia Ga gradually disappear into the morning mist, his stomach convulsed strangely.Without the aborigines, he seemed to have no clothes on.

Around him were Bronn's mercenaries, nearly eight hundred now, but mercenaries had always been capricious and unreliable.Tyrion had tried his best to buy their loyalty. He promised Bronn and a dozen of his best men that he would give them land and knight titles after the battle was won.They drank his wine, enjoyed his jokes, and called each other "jazz" until they staggered drunk... except Bronn himself. After everyone was drunk, he said to him with his usual arrogant and ambiguous smile: "They Would kill for a knighthood, but not for it." Tyrion has no such delusion.

The Golden Robe Army is also unreliable.Thanks to Cersei, the city defense team has increased to 6,000 people, but no more than a quarter of them can be relied on. "A few are out-and-out traitors, and there are troublemakers your spiders can't detect," Bywater warned him. "Many of the rest are younger than spring grass, and they join the For bread and ale and protection. No one wants to be a coward in the eyes of his companions, so when the war begins, they will fight bravely when the trumpets are sounding and the flags are flying. But if the momentum is not good, they will break down and flee. A When a man drops a spear, a thousand men will follow."

Of course, the City Watch had experienced cadres, too, and the gold robes of the two thousand men had come from Robert, not Cersei.But... Guards are not soldiers, this is the constant teaching of Lord Tywin Lannister.In addition, the total number of knights, attendants and ordinary soldiers in Tyrion's hands is only three hundred.He hoped that another of his father's adages would be verified: one is worth ten if you stand high in a strong city. Bronn and his guard waited at the foot of the pier, surrounded by crowds of beggars, wandering whores, and fishwives peddling their catch.The fisherwoman's business was better than all the rest combined.People crowded around buckets or stalls, haggling over prices for snails, clams and pike.With no other food coming into town, the price of fish was ten times what it was before the war, and it continued to rise.Those who still have money come to the river every morning and evening, hoping to bring home an eel or a pot of red crab; Watch from under the walls.

Gold-cloaked guards pushed back the crowd with their spears, clearing a path through the crowd.Tyrion tried not to pay attention to the muttering and cursing.A rotten and slippery fish flew from the crowd and landed at his feet, shattering into pieces.Carefully he stepped over it and climbed onto the horse's back.Behind them, children with distended bellies were already fighting over pieces of stinky fish. He rode to the river bank.Hammers throbbed in the morning air, and carpenters flocked to the Mud Gate to add planks to the battlements.It's going well.But on the other hand, the pile of crumbling buildings growing behind the pier made him quite unhappy.Clinging to the wall like shells attached to the hull of a ship, they held bait-bins, mess-halls, storehouses, shops, taverns, and hook-ups for cheap whores.It must be emptied, leaving nothing behind.With these, Stannis even saved the trouble of building a ladder.

He called Bronn to him. "Organize a hundred people and burn everything from the riverside to the city wall." He waved his stubby fingers, enclosing the dirty and poor dock area. "Clean and clean, nothing is allowed to stand in the field of vision, understand?" The black-haired mercenary turned his head and evaluated the errand. "I'm afraid the owners are not too happy." "They won't be happy anyway, let it go, just give them a new reason to curse the little deformed monkey." "Someone will resist." "Make sure they fail."

"What about the residents here?" "Give them enough time to transfer their property, and then clear it all. Try not to see blood, they are not the enemy. And, gods bless, no more rape of women! Keep your people in check, damn it." "They're mercenaries, not monks," Bronn said. "Next time you want me to make them dry." "good idea." Tyrion would have liked to have made the walls twice as high and three stories thicker.But what good is that?Towers and walls cannot save Storm's End, nor Harrenhal, nor even Winterfell. He remembered the last time he saw Winterfell.It wasn't as absurdly large as Harrenhal, nor as impenetrable as Storm's End, but there was a power within the stone walls that made those within it feel safe.The news of the city's fall shocked him deeply. "The gods give and take," he murmured as Varys told him.They gave Harrenhal to the Starks and took Winterfell at the same time.A poor exchange.

Of course he should be happy.Henceforth, Robb Stark must fight in the North—what kind of king is he if he can't hold his own fort and home?It seems that the situation in the western base of the Lannister family has been temporarily suspended, but... Tyrion had only dim memories of Theon Greyjoy during his brief visit to the North.He was a young boy, with a good laugh and a bow; it was hard to imagine him becoming Lord of Winterfell.The Lord of Winterfell has always been a Stark. He thought of their godswood: the tall sentinels armored with gray-green pine needles, the great oaks and hawthorns and iron trees and ash and soldier pines.The heart tree stands at the core, like a white giant frozen in time.He seemed to be able to smell the quiet rural atmosphere there, the smell that had been brewing for thousands of years, and the woods were dark even during the day.That forest is Winterfell.That forest is the North.When I was walking in the forest, I felt a sense of incompatibility that I had never felt before, as if I was an unwelcome intruder.I wonder if the Greyjoys feel the same way.They might hold the castle, but not the godswood.Not in a year, not in ten years, not in another fifty years.

Tyrion Lannister rode slowly towards the Mud Gate.Winterfell has nothing to do with you, he reminded himself, it was your luck that it fell, and what you should pay attention to is your own city defense.The city gate was wide open, and three huge trebuchets stood side by side in the market square, like giant birds standing on three heads, looking out of the battlements.The throwing arm is made from the trunk of an old oak tree, with iron hoops to prevent breaking.The King's Landing Whores, as the gold cloaks dubbed them, were about to give Lord Stannis a warm welcome.At least that's what I expected.

Tyrion kicked his horse with his heels and trotted through the gates into the crowd.After passing the "Three Prostitutes in King's Landing", the crowd thinned out and the street opened up. The journey back to the Red Keep was uneventful, but in the reception room of the Prime Minister's Tower a dozen or so angry merchant captains were waiting for him, protesting his commandeering of ships.He sincerely apologized and promised compensation once the war was over, but words could not appease them. "What do you do when you lose, my lord?" asked a Braavosi. "Let the compensation be passed on to King Stannis." It was so easy to get rid of them, but the bell rang again, and he was about to miss the inauguration ceremony!So Tyrion trotted and waddled across the courtyard and into the crowd behind the sept.Joffrey was fastening white silk robes around the shoulders of the two new Kingsguard members.Everyone stood up during the ceremony, so Tyrion could only see a row of noble butts.Having said that, when the new archbishop led the two knights to complete the solemn oath and anointed them with holy oil in the name of the seven gods, he was in a good position to slip away first. He was quite satisfied that his sister had chosen Ser Balon Swann to replace the slain Ser Preston Greenfield.The Swen family is the great lord of the frontier, proud and cautious.Lord Gurion Swann said he was sick at home and would not join either side. His eldest son originally followed Renly, but now he joined Stannis, and his youngest son Balon served in King's Landing.If he had a third son, it would probably go to Robb Stark.The method is not honorable, but it is reasonable: no matter who wins the Iron Throne in the future, the Swann family will survive: young Ser Baron was born noble, heroic and gentle, and skilled in martial arts; Wait for a good hand.To the royal family, he will be a brave and loyal warrior. Too bad Tyrion couldn't agree with Cersei's alternative.Ser Osmund Kettleblack looked awe-inspiring.He was six feet six inches tall, muscular, with a hooked nose, bushy eyebrows, a large brown beard like a shovel, and when he wasn't smiling he had a fierce look.Kettleblack was originally a hedge knight from humble beginnings, whose future and promotion depended on Cersei, so she chose him. "Ser Osmond was brave and loyal," she told Joffrey when he nominated him.The second half of the sentence was unfortunately hit by her.The trusty Sir Osmond had always been loyal to Bronn's money, and had sold all her secrets and deals from the first day of her employment.Of course Tyrion wouldn't tell her that. Guess he shouldn't complain.This appointment is tantamount to installing another eye for him in the king, but it is unknown to Cersei.If Sir Osmond was a coward, he was no worse than Boros Braun who was now in Rosby Dungeon.When Sir Boros escorted Tommen and Earl Gyles, he was ambushed by Ser Jacelyn Bywater and his gold-cloaked guards. If old Ser Barristan Selmy had seen him hand over the royal family members so readily, he would surely Furious, as Cersei was furious. "Knights of the Kingsguard shall die defending the king and the royal family!" the sister insisted that Joffrey strip Braun of his white robes for treason and cowardice.Now she was replaced by another guy who didn't deserve the name. Praying, taking oaths and anointing the holy oil took almost the whole morning, and Tyrion's legs began to ache, and he had to keep shifting his weight from one foot to the other.He saw Countess Tanda standing a few rows ahead, but her daughter was not with her.He really wanted to see Shae, Varys said she was doing well, but he wanted to see for himself. "Well, a lady's maid is better than a kitchen girl," said Shae when Tyrion told Shae of the eunuch's plans. The black diamond is like the one in my eye? If you don’t allow it, I won’t wear it.” Tyrion hated to disappoint her, but he had to point out that even if Lady Tanda wasn't exactly a wise woman, her daughter's maid would be suspicious if she had more jewels than her own. "Just two or three dresses, no more," he ordered her. "You can choose good wool, but you can't ask for silk, brocade and fur. I will keep these in my house and wear them when you come." This is not the answer Shae wanted, but it can keep her safe. When the investiture was finally over, Joffrey went out, escorted by the newly white-robed Ser Balon and Ser Osmond, while Tyrion stayed behind to talk to the new High Septon (whom he had chosen, wise enough). , who knows who spread honey on his bread) had a chat. "I want the gods on our side," said Tyrion flatly. "Tell everyone that Stannis swore to burn the Great Sept of Baelor." "Really, my lord?" asked the Archbishop, a shrewd little man with a thin white beard on his thin face. Tyrion shrugged. "Who knows? Stannis burned the godswood in Storm's End as a tribute to the 'Lord of Light'. Why did he let the new gods go when he offended the old gods? Just preach to them and tell them: Help usurp Those who betray not only the rightful king, but also the gods of the righteous way." "Yes, my lord. I will also ask you to pray for the health of the King and Prime Minister." When Tyrion returned to his study, Harlem the Pyromancer was about to see him, and Maester Franken had delivered a letter.He decided to read the letter from the raven first, and let the alchemist wait a little longer.There's an outdated letter from Doran Martell warning him that Storm's End has fallen, and another interesting letter from Balon Greyjoy, in which he calls himself the "Between the Iron Islands and the North". King, and invited King Joffrey to send envoys to the Iron Islands to delineate the border between the two countries and discuss possible alliances. Tyrion read the letter three times, then set it aside.King Balon's long ships are enough to deal with the fleet of Storm's End, but they are thousands of miles away, on the other side of the Westeros continent. Taking ten thousand steps back, ceding half of the country is not a small matter that can be easily decided.Perhaps I should reveal the contents of this letter to Cersei, or take it to the Council. Only then did he allow Harlem to report the latest accounts of the alchemists. "It can't be," said Tyrion, flipping through the ledgers. "Nearly thirteen thousand jars? You take me for a fool? I warn you, I can't buy empty jars or wax-sealed sewage jars with king's money!" "No, no," screamed Harlem exaggeratedly, "the number is completely accurate, completely accurate, I swear! We are, hehehe, very lucky, Mr. Prime Minister. We found another batch of stocks that Lord Rosat had hidden back then, a total of More than 300 pots, right under the dragon's lair! Some prostitutes used the ruins to pick up customers, and one of the benefactors stepped on a rotten floor and fell into the cellar. When he touched the pot, he thought it was wine. He was very drunk at the time. Then I opened the seal and drank a little." "There was a prince who did that once," said Tyrion dryly. "There are no dragons in the city, so it doesn't seem to work this time." It would be more appropriate there, but he still hoped that the late Lord Rosat would announce the news earlier. "Three hundred cans, you say? Three hundred cans doesn't account for the total, which is thousands of cans more than the highest estimate you gave me when we last met." "Yes, yes, that's right." Harlem wiped his pale forehead with the sleeve of his black and red striped robe, "But we work very hard, Mr. Prime Minister, hehehe." "No wonder the output of 'this substance' has increased so much recently." Tyrion smiled and fixed his eyes on the fireman with eyes of different sizes. "But I can't help but have a question: why are you working so hard until now?" Harlem's face was already as pale as a mushroom, so it's hard to describe whether it has become paler or not.He forced himself to be calm and said: "We have been working hard, Mr. Prime Minister, I assure you that my wise men and assistants and I have been working day and night from the beginning, so, hehehe, this substance has been produced a lot, and we seem to have become Well, hehehe, more proficient, and———Pyromancer moved uneasily—“Some spells, hehehe, are the ancient secrets of our guild, very subtle and cumbersome, but in order to create this substance, it is It is essential, hehehe, they were originally..." Tyrion grew impatient.Ser Jacelyn Bywater was probably already there, and the Iron Hand did not like to wait. "Yes, you have some secret spells, and they are wonderful, so what?" "They, hehehe, they seem to be more effective than before." Harlem smiled weakly, "From your point of view, dragons shouldn't exist, right?" "Of course, did you find one by the way under the dragon's lair? Why do you ask?" "Oh, sorry, I just came across some stories that the old wise man Polritt told me. I was an assistant at the time, and I asked him why many of our spells, er, weren't as effective as the scrolls? He said it was because of the dragon's When you die, magic leaves this world with it." "Unfortunately, I have never seen a live dragon. I only know that the king's law must be obeyed. If one of the fruits you sell to me is not wildfire, you can wait to be sanctioned." Harlem fled and almost ran into Ser Jacelyn—no, Lord Jacelyn, that had to be remembered.Thankfully, Iron Hand is as forthright as ever.He had just returned from Rosby, bringing with him a new batch of spearmen from the Earl of Gales, and resuming command of the City Watch.After discussing the defense of the city, Tyrion asked, "How is my nephew?" "Prince Tommen is healthy and happy, my lord, and he has a fawn that my men brought back from hunting. He said he had one before, but Joffrey skinned it for a vest. He sometimes Asking about my mother, I often wrote letters to Princess Myrcella, but I never finished it, and I don’t miss my brother at all.” "If we fail, is everything arranged?" "I made an explanation to my confidants." "Confess what?" "You order me not to tell anyone, my lord." He smiled when he said that, "I'm glad you remember." If King's Landing fell, he would most likely be captured alive.Where to find Joffrey's heir, he had no idea. Not long after Lord Jacelyn left, Varys appeared. "Human beings are truly dishonest creatures," he greeted. Tyrion sighed, "Who is the traitor this time?" The eunuch held out a piece of parchment. "How despicable, the elegy of the age. Has the honor died with our fathers?" "My father is not dead." Tyrion scanned the list. "I know a few names. These are rich people. Traders, craftsmen, shopkeepers and the like. Why did they rebel?" "It's a fool's errand. They believe Stannis will win, and want to share in his victory. By the way, they call themselves the 'Antler Men,' and they are determined to follow the crowned stag." "Someone should inform that Stannis has changed their badge, and they should be called 'The Enthusiastic Men. They are ready to occupy the old city gate and let the enemy enter the city.In the list, the armor master Charoline was impressively on the list. "Now I won't receive that horrible demon helmet," Tyrion confided, scribbling a warrant for his arrest.