“You want me to give you your life? That’s a bit much. Just stay in this building tonight and don’t go anywhere. Have your men guard the door. Those black-cloaked lads are decent, but I can’t guarantee there isn’t a Slynt-loyalist in this garrison.” Ser Ironhand glanced at Aegor’s shoulder. “Tend to that injury quickly. I’ll send word to Tyrion Lannister for you.”

“A letter? He’s outside the city right now. Didn’t you just say it’s a serious offense to send someone out in the middle of the night?”

“He’s at the Night’s Watch Industrial Park, I know.” Bywater stood, picked up his helmet from the table, tucked it under his arm, and walked toward the door. “This is a serious matter. I have to let your partner know. As for how to send the message—sending someone out is indeed a felony, but throwing something over the wall isn’t. Write the letter, tie it to a stone, and toss it over the city wall. My friend who lives down by the port will pick it up and deliver it to the Industrial Park.”

Of course. As the long-serving captain of the River Gate garrison, Bywater had these kinds of skills and connections. Nothing surprising. “Please tell Tyrion not to act on impulse. Don’t let him bring the security team into King’s Landing and escalate things.”

“Do I really need to remind him?” Ser Ironhand adjusted his prosthesis and opened the office door. “I can hardly imagine the little imp acting on impulse.”

You’re wrong, Aegor thought bitterly. Tyrion could remain rational most of the time, but the anger buried in his heart often surfaced. His small stature just made it harder for him to express it. Just like this time, if he hadn’t insisted on taking down Slynt within three days, and they had handled things more subtly, perhaps this crisis could have been avoided.

Before stepping into the circle of power, King’s Landing had seemed like a great place to do business. But once entangled in the Game of Thrones, the capital of the Seven Kingdoms became perilous.

Status, power, and influence truly are double-edged swords.

—

…

Janos Slynt had someone sneak into the Red Keep to report to Robert that the queen had tried to bribe him. Then he sat in the East Camp office for half a day. When he heard that the attempt to silence Aegor had failed, he was so furious he trembled.

“More than a dozen people, two crossbows, to kill one man! And you still let him escape, with several of ours dead? Are your friends all pigs?”

Yarral Dim lowered his head and murmured, “There were two of them, Ser. And… according to the survivors, the Night’s Watchman’s bodyguard is highly skilled.”

“Skilled, my arse. Stop making excuses. Losers always have explanations. What’s next? Are you going to tell me he knows magic too?” Slynt slammed his hand on the table. “Where is he now? Has he gone home?”

“According to reports… after returning home, he quickly left with his men and moved south. They had numbers on their side, so our men could only follow from a distance. They lost him in Flea Bottom,” Yarral said, shrinking under Slynt’s glare. “But just now, a brother from Mud Gate reported that the Night’s Watchman entered the River Gate garrison.”

“Wake everyone up. Gather all weapons. We’re going to River Gate to take him.”

Yarral looked up, startled. “But, Ser, didn’t you say we shouldn’t make any moves for the next couple of days?”

“Fool! There was an illegal street fight in one of the most upscale neighborhoods of King’s Landing tonight. Three dead, three injured. In a case like this, I’m leading men to catch the killer. You call that random?” Slynt nearly struck him. “Move quickly. Don’t let anyone escape. Send riders to all the city’s camps and gather more men. Jacelyn Bywater is an old enemy of mine. He won’t hand over the man easily… Damn it, if I’d known this would happen, I wouldn’t have left it to you!”

…

All of King’s Landing stirred. A rare mobilization of gold cloaks from East Camp poured down Muddy Street toward the River Gate. At the same time, messengers mounted swift horses and galloped toward the Seven Gates and the Three Hills, delivering orders to the city’s garrisons.

Many already knew the “real reason” behind Slynt’s imminent downfall, but he was still the commander of the City Watch. Under the guise of “capturing a murderer,” his orders still had to be followed, at least on the surface.

So hundreds of soldiers were roused from their beds, dressed in full armor, and led by their officers to the commander’s designated rally point—River Gate.

While garrisons across the city scrambled into motion, their counterparts at River Gate had already sealed the gates and bolted them, fully prepared to hold their ground.

…

It had been around the Eel Hour—between 8 and 9 in the evening—when Aegor was attacked. After all the fighting, it was now past midnight, in the Owl Hour. A long line of gold cloaks with torches stretched like a fiery serpent outside the River Gate garrison, surrounding it.

A soldier jumped down from the wall and ran to Ser Bywater.

“Ser, Lord Slynt is at the gate. He says there’s a murderer in our camp who caused a bloody scene. He demands we hand him over for interrogation at East Camp.”

“How many are with him?”

“Around a hundred.”

Bywater snorted. “Ignore him. Post trusted men at the two gates. Wait for more to arrive.”

—

King’s Landing was vast, and River Gate sat at the city’s southernmost edge. This meant the response times of the garrisons varied. Nearby camps arrived within ten minutes, while those farther out, like the Gods Gate or Dragon Gate, were leagues away.

Time passed. Dozens more arrived by foot or on horseback, torches in hand, gradually swelling Slynt’s numbers.

When the number of gold cloaks outside River Gate surpassed four hundred, Slynt had someone issue an ultimatum. If Jacelyn Bywater did not surrender the suspect, they would storm the gates.

Knowing the time had come, Bywater climbed the inner wall with a torch and revealed himself to the soldiers outside.

…

“Brothers!” he called out from the platform, looking down on over a hundred assembled gold cloaks. “It’s the middle of the night. We should be asleep in our beds. But because of what’s happening here, you’ve all been dragged into this mess. I truly regret that, but I must make it clear. I will not back down on this matter tonight!”

The soldiers exchanged glances. Some night watchmen looked unfazed, used to staying up regardless. Those pulled from rest looked groggy until Bywater’s next words snapped them awake.

“I’d like to ask—of all the brothers standing here for this so-called mission, how many of you are actually getting your full pay?”

At the mention of money, things stirred. Everyone in the King’s Landing garrison knew the truth. Officers promoted by Slynt had to hand over half their pay. Regular soldiers usually lost twenty or thirty percent. Those lucky enough to serve under a powerful officer might lose less. Everyone knew this unspoken rule, but no one dared talk about it publicly. Speaking out got you transferred… or killed. What was Ironhand doing bringing it up now?

“Jacelyn Bywater!” Slynt shouted, stepping forward before things got out of hand. “Just before midnight, someone caused a bloody fight on the street between Steel Gate and the Dragon’s Lair. Three dead, three injured. We now have proof the culprit is hiding inside your camp. Stop talking nonsense and hand him over!”

“Do you remember Herb and Ben?” Bywater ignored him, raising his voice above the commander’s. “Last year, when Lord Jon Arryn, the Hand of the King, began investigating bribery and embezzlement in the City Watch, those two brothers agreed to testify. Within days, the news leaked. Herb supposedly fell and hit his head on a rock. Ben drowned in a ditch. Do you believe that was coincidence?”

Is Ironhand mad, airing this in front of so many people? Slynt felt a chill and snapped, “That was an accident. The case was closed long ago. Stop spewing lies! Open the gate or I’ll order it burned!”

“Two brothers died with no explanation. Now another man has come forward. He filed a formal report with Lord Eddard Stark, naming our commander. That man is in this garrison. And now, the man being accused is outside the gate, fabricating lies to force me to hand him over.”

…

“Is this true?”

“No wonder we were dragged out here in the middle of the night.”

“This is madness! What do they take us for?”

As the murmurs and outrage spread among the gathered gold cloaks, Slynt realized he’d walked into a trap. Panic and rage surged.

“Enough talk! Burn the door down! Open it with fire!”

(To be continued.)

***

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep