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The drunk wore a long cloak, filthy and tattered. He had only one shoe on his foot, while the other, bare foot was caked in mud. In his right hand, he clutched a wineskin, and the reek of alcohol coming off him was strong enough to choke a rat.
Gendry frowned, covered his nose and mouth with his right hand, then crouched and nudged the drunk with his left hand.
"Hey, are you all right?"
"I want to see the giant wolf."
The drunk answered in a weak, gentle voice. Then, in the very next instant, he rolled over at once and, in a loud, boisterous voice, shouted:
"More wine! I want to keep drinking! Ugh... water, give me water!"
At those first words, Gendry was startled inwardly. Forcing his expression back under control, he lifted his head and looked around the street, seeing that there were still a few people scattered about.
Then he shook his head and answered loudly:
"My luck is rotten!"
As soon as he finished speaking, Gendry reached out to help the drunk to his feet. But the man rolled on the ground again, and the movement of his arm struck Gendry's hand.
Interrupted by that, Gendry changed his mind. Instead of helping him up, he grabbed him by the back of his cloak at the neck and started dragging him inside, with the man's face turned toward the ground once more.
Fortunately, as a smith's apprentice, his arms were strong. Otherwise, he might not even have been able to move that fat drunk at all.
And so he dragged him into the smithy.
In the storeroom, when he saw Gendry enter hauling someone in, Robb waved the air in front of his nose to drive off the awful stench of drink and said,
"Lord Varys, this disguise is a little too realistic. That drunkard's stench makes anyone want to stay well away from you."
"And I subjected myself to all this precisely to come and see you, Lord Robb. Saying such a thing really wounds my feelings.
But I must admit, the Gold Cloaks at the crossings showed not the slightest desire to come near me.
Most likely because everyone believes you're near the Mud Gate, so the inspections here aren't nearly as strict."
Now inside the storeroom, the fat drunk planted his hands on the floor and slowly pushed himself upright as he spoke in his usual soft voice, his tone carrying a faint reproach.
"All right, all right. I take it back.
Now tell me, how is the situation in King's Landing?"
Robb first nodded as if apologizing, then immediately went straight to the point.
Varys, his face still smeared with the grime of the disguise, answered in that same calm tone:
"Of your men, only Eddard Karstark survived. He was captured by Jaime Lannister. All the others died in the fighting.
Do not even think of relying on your giant wolf. From what I have learned, there are at least twenty crossbowmen guarding the inn where he is. Unless your wolf has grown dragon scales, he will not be able to endure a rain of quarrels.
The Lannisters have not touched the inn outside the city precisely because they are waiting for you to run there of your own accord. The place is already webbed with traps."
"So only Edd is alive..."
Hearing that, Robb pressed his lips together, and a pained look passed across his face.
"He is being held alone on the second level of the Red Keep's dungeons, in a single cell reserved for captured nobles.
That Eddard Karstark did not suffer any serious wounds in the fighting, nor has he been tortured in the cells."
Varys calmly handed over all the information he had and, at the end, even added with a touch of humor:
"You entered King's Landing to rescue one Edd and ended up delivering them another.
But from all appearances now, the Lannisters' informant truly was him."
"From the signs before me, yes, he does seem to be the informant. Even so, I still feel there's something wrong about the whole thing."
Robb answered with a furrowed brow. Then he shook his head, setting that issue aside.
"But let us leave the informant aside for now. Lord Varys, I called you here because I want to ask you..."
"I understand. I've already made all the arrangements. Before dawn, you will quietly go to Anguy's smithy. Tomorrow morning, he will arrange a wagon and take you out of King's Landing."
Robb had not even finished speaking when Varys was already nodding, as though answering something obvious.
"I was going to ask that you accept my earlier request. I want to enter the black cells."
"What? Did I hear you correctly?
Lord Robb, the entire city is hunting you, and instead of fleeing, you still want to enter the black cells?"
First Varys showed genuine astonishment. Then, with a sigh, he spoke with sincere admiration:
"But I must admit, I greatly admire your courage and your determination to save your family."
"Thank you for the compliment, Lord Varys. I believe that if your own family were in danger, you would do the same."
"Family? I no longer have anyone..."
Those words struck Varys in an unexpected way. His eyes wavered for an instant, as though his thoughts had gone somewhere far away. But he quickly recovered himself and continued:
"I accept your request. But you must promise me one thing: if you fail to persuade Lord Eddard, you will not try to drag him out of the black cells by force."
"Lord Varys, I swear by the old gods and the new that I will do exactly as you ask."
Seeing that Varys had finally agreed, Robb could not hide his joy and swore at once.
"Very well. Then when do you intend to act?"
"If it is possible on your side, I want to do it on the day of the king's funeral."
"A wise choice. At that time, the guard of the Red Keep will be reduced by at least half.
Good, it would not do for me to stay here any longer. Go to Anguy's smithy and wait patiently for my message.
Hm... for certain reasons, this particular smithy is being watched by many eyes."
With the time for action agreed upon, Varys finished speaking and turned to leave.
"Lord Varys, thank you very much for your help. One day I will repay all of this.
But I will not stay at Anguy's smithy. I still have plans of my own. King's Landing is not going to remain calm over these next two days."
At Robb's thanks, Varys merely waved a hand without turning around. But when he heard that last sentence, his steps faltered for an instant.
Even so, he said nothing. He only stumbled onward toward the smithy's exit.
"Drink! Keep drinking! A toast!"
As soon as he stepped out of the smithy, Varys immediately slipped back into the role of the drunk he had been before. Wineskin in hand, he staggered down the street, shouting at nothing as he went.
Standing in the doorway, Gendry watched his retreating back and could not help admiring the performance.
When he went back inside the smithy, he found Robb already out of the storeroom, examining the weapons in the workshop.
"How much is this longsword?"
Robb turned a plain longsword in his hand and asked.
"That one was made by my master. It's a finely crafted sword. One hundred and twenty silver stags."
At that price, Robb looked somewhat embarrassed and returned the sword to its place. At the moment, his entire fortune amounted to no more than a single silver stag.
"This short dagger I made myself from leftover metal. You can have it."
Gendry went to the workbench, rummaged around for a moment, pulled out a short dagger, and tossed it to Robb.
Robb caught it in the air with precision, tested the weight, and made two quick motions with the blade.
Then he nodded, took his last silver stag from his pocket, flicked it to Gendry with his thumb, and said with a smile:
"It's a weapon that sits very well in the hand. I'm willing to pay my entire fortune for it."
"You really are very generous."
Gendry caught the coin, rubbed it between his fingers, and answered with a grin.
"Gendry, I still have many things to do.
If you decide to come with me, then in two days, when I give the signal, go at once to the Chain Tower on the Blackwater and meet me there."
Robb smiled at him as he walked toward the back door.
"A signal? What signal?"
Hearing that, Gendry frowned and called after Robb.
"Heh. When the time comes, you'll know."
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