chapter 161 part 1
Chapter 161: The Dawn in King's Landing
Lord Glyn crabbe stood on a rock, watching the small boat carrying Petyr Baelish depart.
Not far away, Varys's figure emerged from the darkness. He walked lightly to Glyn's side.
Varys tucked his hands into his sleeves, as if lamenting, "Truly heartbreaking. I wonder if I will ever have the chance to work with Lord Petyr again."
Glyn tilted his head back and laughed. "A pity Lord Petyr cannot hear you. Otherwise, he would surely be very moved."
Varys smiled and shook his head. After a brief pause, his expression turned serious. "Lord Glyn, according to our agreement... we will now quietly await the outcome."
Glyn's eyebrow twitched. "Lord Varys, you seem certain that Queen Cersei will be the victor."
Varys looked at Glyn, his eyes twinkling. "You are the only variable, Lord Glyn."
A hesitant look flashed across Glyn's face. He sighed softly and said, "I did my best, but Lord Eddard's sense of honor cannot be swayed."
Varys also sighed. "No one questions the northern lord's noble character, but good men are not suited for the game of thrones. Good men cannot be as unscrupulous as villains to achieve their goals."
Glyn's face was silent, but his heart lamented... once you sit down at the table for the game of thrones, is there still a distinction between good men and villains?
...
Glyn collected his thoughts and said solemnly, "Lord Varys, according to our agreement, regardless of the outcome, you must ensure Eddard Stark returns safely to Winterfell."
Varys's eyes moved slightly, and he smiled faintly. "It seems you have already guessed the result."
"Lord Varys, perhaps everyone inwardly respects Lord Stannis, but they do not like him. What's more, they fear him. When Lord Eddard chose Lord Stannis as the heir to the Iron Throne, he had already lost."
Varys said softly, "We cannot let Lord Stannis inherit the Iron Throne either. For his sake, the entire Seven Kingdoms would set aside their mutual grievances."
Glyn chuckled softly. "It would certainly be so. With a common enemy, even for the sake of self-preservation... the greatest of grievances would be temporarily set aside. Perhaps that is Lord Stannis's... charm?"
Hearing Glyn's jest, Varys laughed as well.
Glyn and Varys began to walk, talking as they went... two "loyal subjects," unknown even to Viserys himself, were meticulously scheming on his behalf.
...
Before parting with Varys, Glyn looked up at the towering Red Keep and said wearily, "Lord Varys, this place is too complicated. If I could... I'd like to leave this place that exhausts both my body and mind as soon as possible."
Varys's eyes were very bright. He offered a kind smile and patted Glyn's arm, as if offering silent comfort.
...
...
A hint of pink began to appear in the eastern sky, gradually spreading.
King's Landing, the Iron Gate.
Glyn pulled his reins, halting his horse. He surveyed the bustling crabbe blue cloaks.
Before long, Pell strode over and saluted.
Glyn, still mounted, looked down at the grave-faced Pell. "My most loyal Ser Pell, did things go smoothly?"
"My lord, we have taken control of the Iron Gate, but the original captain of the gate guard refuses to hand over the keys. He insists he will not relinquish them without an order from Lord Janos."
The Iron Gate is one of the seven main gates of King's Landing. Like the others, its gatehouse functions as a small military fortress, complete with its own armory, stables, granary, wine cellar, and cells.
Pell was referring to the keys to the storerooms, which the original captain controlled.
Glyn raised an eyebrow. "What is the situation now?"
"That man and a dozen Gold Cloaks are holed up in the armory. They've barricaded the door with heavy objects. Aside from them, we have disarmed all the other Gold Cloaks."
Pell had been on standby near the Iron Gate. After receiving Glyn's order, he brandished the letter of appointment bearing the seal of the Hand of the King and led his men directly into the Gold Cloak barracks at the Iron Gate.
The barracks area of the Iron Gate was vast and fully equipped, like a city within a city. However, as it was not a time of war, only about two hundred Gold Cloaks were usually stationed there.
Under the cover of night and armed with the Hand's command, Pell quickly took control of the Iron Gate, aside from the armory where the holdouts were barricaded.
After hearing Pell's report, Glyn called out, "Monton."
At the sound of his name, Monton Waters spurred his horse forward, his large, vacant eyes looking toward his lord.
"You, take them to the usual place."
After Monton led a group of blue cloaks away, Glyn dismounted.
"Pell, not a single stranger can be left in this place. Have the Scouting Corps search every stone. We cannot give our enemies any opportunities."
Pell nodded solemnly. "My lord, I will remember your command. The enemy is everywhere."
In truth, another of crabbe's household knights, Mago Beck, was more skilled in defensive duties, but the crabbe lands had only three commanders capable of holding their own...
Mago Beck was responsible for defending the crabbe lands, Aempa was in charge of finalizing the westward push on Crackclaw Point, which left the attack-oriented Ser Pell as Glyn's only choice.
Glyn patted Pell's arm... Given the opportunity, perhaps a man skilled in attack could more easily master how to defend against an enemy.
"Walk the perimeter with me..."
*Wuuuuu, wuuuuu, wuuuuu.* A war horn suddenly blared from the high walls.
The usually composed Lord Glyn was shocked. That was the call for an enemy attack... He had just been appointed Captain of the Iron Gate guard. Who would be so bold?
...
To exit the city through the Iron Gate, one first had to pass through the gate to the barracks, which was nearly the same size as the main gate of the Red Keep.
At this moment, dozens of riders were gathered outside the gate of the Iron Gate's barracks. Someone was shouting, "In the name of the king, open the gate!"
*Creeeak.* The two iron-sheathed doors slowly swung open, and the arrogant-looking knights suddenly fell silent.
Opposite them were densely packed blue-cloaked soldiers. The faint morning light clinging to their iron armor added a layer of grim austerity.
The activity on the inner walls also drew their attention. They saw soldiers drawing bows and nocking arrows, and the sharp-eyed among them spotted aimed ballistae.
*Clop, clop, clop.* Glyn's horse stepped forward. He realized the riders before him were Renly's guards.
Glyn knew Renly would be leaving King's Landing to return to the Stormlands, but why wasn't he taking a southern gate? Was he worried that someone might guess the direction of his "escape" from the city and lay an ambush, so he deliberately chose the most unlikely route?
A feint, Westeros-style? Whether it was or not was unimportant. It seemed Lord Renly was about to fall into Lord Glyn's hands... Ahem, luck is also a component of strength.
From behind the riders came the sound of numerous approaching hooves. Looking past them, dozens of golden flower banners were fluttering.
Glyn stopped his horse and called out, "You have a count of five to dismount, lay down your weapons, and kneel! Otherwise... for the crime of disturbing the peace at the city gate, you will be executed on the spot!"
After speaking, Glyn raised one hand, palm facing the riders. "Five!"
fixed the name and will slowly fix them in the older ch