chapter 119 part 1
Chapter 119: The Direwolf Heads South
After waiting for a while, when the distance was about right, Greene Kleb discreetly signaled Petyr Baelish.
Petyr Baelish nodded slightly, and the two of them proactively walked up to meet the approaching Stannis Baratheon.
Petyr Baelish curled his lips and nodded faintly toward Stannis, a gesture of extreme elegance.
Greene bowed and said, "Good day, Lord Stannis."
Greene also nodded to Davos Seaworth, who was walking beside Stannis.
Lord Stannis's gaze was sharp, as if it could pierce through the secrets hidden in one's heart.
His eyes moved slightly. He first looked at Petyr, then shifted his gaze to Greene.
"At least you two still remember there's a funeral being held here. Lord Greene, is your mission complete?"
Greene replied seriously, "My lord, I took soldiers to Pentos based on the intelligence provided by Lord Varys. Just as I started to make some moves, I encountered the matter of the Magister of Pentos burning himself to death.
The situation in Pentos is sensitive right now; all outsiders are viewed with suspicion. To avoid unnecessary conflict, I temporarily returned to King's Landing."
Stannis nodded imperceptibly. "Handle every matter before you well. Cherish every opportunity to temper yourself."
Petyr Baelish's eyebrows arched slightly. He thought he saw Lord Stannis encouraging Greene.
Was it an illusion? This was not the Stannis he knew at all!
First Lord Mace, then Lord Stannis... Petyr Baelish felt a touch of sourness in his heart as he looked at Greene.
This feeling vanished in an instant, and Petyr Baelish himself found it amusing.
...
At this time, the fawning crowd discovered Stannis emanating his grim aura, and one by one, their voices gradually fell silent.
Varys had already released Lord Mace's large hand, his own hands now clasped and his head bowed slightly.
Lord Mace stroked his beard, a faint smile on his face as he looked at the grim-faced Stannis.
Neither of them had forgotten the Siege of Storm's End.
King Robert was willing to pardon those who had opposed him in the War of the Usurper if they swore fealty to him, but the strong-willed Stannis would absolutely not compromise.
Lord Mace understood Stannis's character. He had once forced this man to survive by eating rats, and Stannis certainly hadn't forgotten their past grievances.
Stannis swept his sharp gaze across everyone present, and the crowd instantly fell silent.
Stannis snorted coldly, then strode toward the main door. Everyone scrambled to make way for him.
After Stannis left, the ever-smiling Lord Mace sighed and said, "That is simply Stannis's character. He didn't intentionally target any of you.
Now is the time we need to work together. You are all great lords of the realm, and the kingdom cannot do without your efforts. I believe you all understand this principle."
As Lord Mace's words fell, the atmosphere on the scene immediately became lively again.
Greene thought that if Lord Mace were the Hand of the King, the atmosphere in the Red Keep would be exceptionally harmonious.
Then he thought, if Lord Stannis became the Hand of the King... *Hiss!* The great lords in the Red Keep would probably all be dragged out and hanged!
And then, if Lord Stark took the position of Hand of the King... Better not to even think about it.
Petyr Baelish came to Greene's side, and the two looked together at the crowd that had grown boisterous again.
Petyr Baelish's voice was hoarse. "Lord Greene, who do you think will be appointed as the new Hand of the King?"
Greene's tone was somewhat helpless. "Lord Petyr, you know better than I do. In truth, our opinions are irrelevant; it all depends on King Robert's final choice."
Petyr Baelish showed no expression, but inwardly he was somewhat surprised by Greene's frankness, and the smile on his face deepened.
Greene hesitated for a moment, then lowered his voice and said, "I hear that King Robert and the Lord of the North have a deep friendship. We cannot ignore that."
Petyr Baelish curled his lips and said, "So, the answer is still unknown. Also, Queen Cersei's wishes cannot be ignored either; she seems to quite favor the Lord of Highgarden, does she not?"
Greene and Petyr Baelish spoke as they tacitly moved away from the crowd.
Greene ruffled his hair and said, "Lord Petyr, to be honest, I'm finding it a bit... difficult to grasp Her Grace the Queen's thoughts."
Petyr Baelish gave an understanding smile. "Haha, you are not alone. All the great lords on the council face the same dilemma."
At this moment, Varys walked over with a faint smile.
Varys bowed slightly to the two. "Lord Petyr, Lord Greene, I saw you were enjoying your conversation and couldn't resist being drawn over. Please forgive my rude interruption."
Greene shrugged. "Lord Varys, you are the Master of Whisperers. Your addition will surely make our discussion much simpler."
Varys seemed very interested. "That truly brings joy to my heart!"
Petyr Baelish smiled elegantly, though his smile was very faint. "We were speculating who would be the next Hand of the King."
Greene spread his hands. "We were discussing King Robert's personal friendship with Lord Eddard."
Varys clasped his hands together. "Lord Eddard grew up in the Eyrie as Lord Jon Arryn's ward alongside King Robert from the age of six. Their bond is deep, like that of brothers.
Whether it was the great war more than a decade ago or the suppression of the Greyjoy Rebellion nine years ago, Lord Eddard has always stood firmly in support of King Robert."
...
...
The western part of Crackclaw Point.
Dusk had already fallen, staining all the banners black. Inside the Kleb camp, over a hundred campfires were lit, and Kleb soldiers were resting by the flames. Some younger Kleb soldiers practiced parrying and thrusting techniques as the daylight gradually faded, their chests drenched in sweat.
Inside the commander's tent, Pell extended his thumb and forefinger into a salt dish and sprinkled a large amount onto the roasted meat.
"Aemparoa, you need to eat."
The day's march had been long, and Aemparoa's face looked somewhat tired. She reached out, grabbed a piece of meat, and said, "Ser, the Thorn Legion is ready. I think the mountain clansmen of the west will be in for a surprise."
Pell's lips curled slightly. "Our provisions are ample this time. We need to minimize our own casualties. We must conserve our strength. After this western campaign ends, the war between House Kleb and the Vale won't be far off."
Aemparoa chewed on the roasted meat, her eyes on the banner of the golden marsh-basin flower hanging inside the tent.
Both of them were people of few words, and for a time, the only sound in the tent was the occasional crackling from the brazier.
After a while, Pell, feeling full, clapped his hands and said, "Aemparoa, when you are knighted, both Knight Ma and I will be your witnesses."
Aemparoa swallowed the food in her mouth and bowed her head in thanks. "Ser, that will be my greatest honor."
Pell, who was always stern and rarely smiled in front of his soldiers, gave a rare smile.
"In the future... the entirety of Crackclaw Point will be a Kleb military encampment. Lord Greene needs more loyal and reliable knights by his side for protection. You have already proven your loyalty and reliability with your actions, Aemparoa!"
...
...
The next day, dawn broke.
The color of the sky gradually transitioned from dark to a gentle blue, presenting a quiet beauty, as if the whole world was awaiting the start of a new day.
*Woo-woo-woo*, a low and long warhorn sounded, like the cold wind of a long winter, making one shiver.
As the warhorn faded, the crossbowmen unleashed a volley of bolts.