Game of Thrones: My Weekend Trips to Earth Chapter 109 109

King's Landing, Red Keep, Tower of the Hand.

Sunlight stread through the tall windows into the stone chamber, casting dappled patterns across the flagstone floor. Eddard Stark stood by the window, gazing out at Blackwater Bay. In his hand he held a silver badge — the Hand of the King's pin that Robert had just fastened to his chest monts earlier.

Then Robert had gone off to indulge himself.

"Finally soone else can do this shitty job!" the King had laughed as he left. "Ned, do your best. I'm off to have so fun!"

Eddard sighed.

He had called the Small Council together.

Petyr Baelish, the Master of Coin, arrived first, wearing his trademark smile as if everything was under control.

Next ca Renly Baratheon, the Master of Laws. The young lord was dressed fashionably and flashed a brilliant smile.

Varys, the Master of Whisperers, slipped in like a ghost, carrying the faint scent of lavender.

Grand Maester Pycelle lowered himself shakily into his seat, looking one step from the grave.

Lord Commander Barristan Selmy of the Kingsguard stood ramrod straight, white-haired yet still imposing.

The Master of Ships, Stannis Baratheon, was absent… he had angrily returned to Dragonstone while the King was still traveling north.

So the Small Council was incomplete.

Eddard cleared his throat. "Gentlen, thank you for your years of service. I have only just taken up the office of Hand and need to understand the situation in every departnt. Please give a brief report on your respective affairs."

Everyone nodded and began their reports.

The Master of Coin said the accounts were complicated and would take ti to organize.

The Master of Laws said there were many cases across the realm, but everything was normal.

The Master of Whisperers said the realm and the world beyond were peaceful, with nothing noteworthy except for Daenerys Targaryen's marriage to a Dothraki khal across the Narrow Sea.

The Grand Maester said the King was in excellent health and all was well.

As Eddard listened, his frown grew deeper and deeper.

A bunch of parasites occupying their seats and doing nothing!

None of them spoke about real issues — only trivial nonsense. Was the Iron Throne's vast realm really being maintained by these people?

Finally Renly spoke up.

"My lord Hand, there is one matter that requires your attention."

"A few months ago a major battle broke out in the Riverlands. A newly ennobled lord defeated a coalition of old noble houses. Many lords from the Riverlands, the Vale, and the Crownlands have sent joint petitions demanding that the Iron Throne punish this magic rchant."

He produced a docunt and handed it to Eddard.

Eddard took it and read carefully.

It was a joint petition listing several accusations against Luke Jaqenion: seizing commoners, violating tradition, wantonly slaughtering the innocent, conducting private trials, and defying the authority of the Iron Throne. In the end it demanded that the Iron Throne send troops to suppress House Jaqenion and restore peace to the Riverlands.

Eddard spoke slowly, "From what I understand, the coalition of lords was the first to invade the baron's lands."

He raised his head and swept his gaze across the room.

"They have already reached a settlent. For the invaders to complain afterward is a violation of honor."

The councillors exchanged glances.

No one spoke.

Petyr smiled and said, "I have also heard that Riverrun joined the diation. House Tully stepped in to diate, and both sides reached an agreent. Since they have reconciled, the Iron Throne would find it difficult to pursue the matter further."

Eddard nodded and set the docunt aside.

It seed these old foxes had no desire to tangle with the issue.

Of course he had no idea that every man present had so business dealings with the "magic baron" — Petyr took a cut, Varys needed funds to maintain his little birds, Pycelle had received many benefits, and Renly was very interested in those magical goods.

Offending Luke? There was no need.

Petyr produced another docunt.

"My lord Hand, here is the financial report for the Iron Throne."

Eddard took it and opened it.

One glance made his head spin.

The Iron Throne was drowning in debt. It owed the Iron Bank of Braavos, it owed the Lord of the Westerlands, and the total of all debts had reached…

Seven million gold dragons.

Eddard jerked his head up.

His voice trembled slightly. "How many years has Robert been king? How has he managed to owe so much money? How could you allow this to happen?"

Petyr shrugged with an innocent expression.

"My lord Hand, I cannot conjure gold dragons. The Iron Throne needs money, so we had no choice but to borrow from those who have it."

He paused, then added, "Thankfully, six months ago Baron Jaqenion agreed to supply the King with those magical goods every month. Otherwise the royal house would probably be unable to maintain even a respectable appearance."

Renly delivered the finishing blow.

"My lord Hand, my brother instructed to organize a grand tourney for you."

Eddard frowned. "How much will that cost?"

"Forty thousand gold dragons for the jousting champion, twenty thousand for the runner-up. Twenty thousand for the archery champion…" Renly rattled off a string of figures and concluded, "In total it will require approximately nine hundred thousand gold dragons."

Eddard's frown deepened further.

Grand Maester Pycelle spoke in a shaky voice, "My lord Hand, the treasury cannot afford this expense."

"Announce the imdiate cancellation of the tourney," Eddard said decisively. "This is far too extravagant."

Renly shook his head.

"My lord Hand, I fear that is impossible. This was the King's command. Nobles from all Seven Kingdoms have already arrived in King's Landing, countless warriors are eager to compete, and every commoner in the city is looking forward to the tourney. If we reverse the order now, the dignity of the Iron Throne will suffer."

Eddard rubbed his brow.

He was already beginning to regret coming to King's Landing.

Never mind everything else — the royal debt alone was a massive headache. Seven million gold dragons could feed every soul in the North for a hundred years.

What exactly had Robert been doing all these years?

The Small Council eting ended hastily.

The councillors withdrew respectfully, but as they turned away each wore a faint, almost imperceptible smile.

From the new Hand's reaction to the treasury debt, they had already judged that he was not a "difficult" opponent.

This direwolf from the North was not suited for the ga of thrones.

At the sa ti, on Rhaenys's Hill, at the Jaqenion residence.

Luke was in his study discussing the detailed construction and developnt of the "Web" intelligence organization with Aurora. Aurora wore a simple dress and looked like an ordinary rchant's wife, but her eyes sparkled with shrewd intelligence.

"My lord, we have already developed more than five hundred 'little spiders' in King's Landing."

She reported, "Inside the Red Keep, among the gold cloaks, and in every noble's mansion — we have people everywhere…"

Luke nodded. "Is funding sufficient?"

"It is. The budget you provided is very generous."

"Then continue expanding," Luke said. "Rember, quality matters more than quantity. I want a net that covers all of Westeros and the Free Cities. Increase the Web's budget by another twenty percent. Go ahead boldly."

Aurora nodded. "Understood."

At that mont a guard knocked and entered.

"My lord, a ssage has arrived from the Red Keep. The Hand invites you to et him at the Tower of the Hand."

Luke raised an eyebrow.

Eddard Stark?

He smiled and stood up.

"Prepare the horses. I'm going to the Red Keep."

Red Keep, Tower of the Hand.

Luke arrived at the base of the tower with Bronn and two mbers of the family guard. He ordered the guards to wait outside and entered with only Bronn.

They climbed the stairs and reached the door of the Hand's office.

The door opened.

A tall, powerfully built man stood inside. He had a long, solemn face, deep brown hair, and a neatly trimd beard. His dark grey eyes were sharp yet lancholy. He wore grey wool clothing in the Northern style and carried a massive greatsword at his waist.

His entire bearing was cold, steady, and carried the dignity of a battle-hardened veteran and the unyielding resolve of a Northerner.

This was Luke's first ti eting Eddard Stark.

The "honest man" from the original story.

He bowed respectfully.

"Greetings, my lord Hand. May I ask why you summoned ?"

Eddard also studied the young man.

He had heard many stories about him — the magic baron, a Celestial Dragon, the victor of the Battle of White Ridge Pass, inventor of countless miraculous goods.

Legend said he possessed extraordinary skills, was unmatched in courage and wisdom… yet the person standing before him now was simply a remarkably handso young man.

Eddard spoke slowly, "You are Luke Jaqenion? The magic baron."

Luke smiled. "At your service."

Eddard nodded and gestured for him to enter.

"Your fa has spread far. Even in the North I heard of your deeds long ago."

He said, "You possess magic, you are generous and benevolent, and you combine wisdom with bravery. The smallfolk of the Riverlands sing your na."

He walked to the table, poured two cups of wine, and handed one to Luke.

Luke accepted it and said modestly, "It was nothing more than a small effort. I cannot compare to the Lord of the North."

Eddard raised his cup and took a sip.

Although it was not his first ti drinking this "tribute wine," his eyebrows still lifted slightly.

"This wine has quite a kick," he praised. "Is it also magically brewed?"

Luke smiled. "You could say that. I am glad the lord likes it."

The two sat at the table and chatted like old friends who had not seen each other in years.

Eddard said that when they passed White Ridge Pass on the way south, both he and Robert had wanted to visit Luke's lands. Unfortunately the King could not leave the Iron Throne for long, so he could only hope that once he stepped down as Hand and returned to the North he would see for himself what a wondrous place Draco was.

Luke replied, "You are welco anyti, my lord. The gates of Draco are always open to honored guests from the North!"

Eddard also praised Luke for creating various magical goods that had made King's Landing more prosperous and increased tax revenue.

He said, "Littlefinger told that the taxes from those magical goods alone have given the royal house so breathing room."

Luke said humbly, "I am rely doing my duty as a loyal subject."

The conversation turned to the Battle of White Ridge Pass.

Eddard's expression grew serious.

"My lord, there is sothing I feel I must say."

"Please speak."

"I have heard the details of that battle," Eddard said slowly. "You achieved a glorious victory — that cannot be denied. But I have also heard that your n slaughtered defeated soldiers and fleeing enemies on the battlefield and left no survivors."

He looked straight into Luke's eyes.

"I feel this was excessively cruel. Once victory was assured, the enemy should have been given the chance to surrender. Killing those who could no longer resist does not accord with the spirit of knighthood."

Luke smiled.

"My lord Hand, that was war. Moreover, I did not hear them surrender, nor did I see them lay down their weapons."

There was a trace of coldness in his smile.

"Greed has a price. They invaded my lands, tried to seize my property, and kill my people. Did I give them a chance? Did they ever give one?"

Eddard was silent for a mont before he spoke.

"I hope you will continue to uphold and promote your generous and benevolent side, and contribute to the peace and stability of the Riverlands."

Luke nodded.

"My lord, if no one offends , I will not offend them. That is my principle."

Eddard nodded and did not pursue the topic further.

He then brought up the matter of the magical goods.

"I have already discussed it with Littlefinger. The Iron Throne wishes to expand cooperation with House Jaqenion. Your goods are extrely popular. The royal house hopes to secure a stable supply channel and beco the exclusive agent for King's Landing!"

Luke had no objection.

"That is only right. I am willing to serve the Iron Throne."

Eddard nodded in satisfaction.

Looking at the young man, a sudden idea occurred to him.

"Baron Luke, have you ever considered staying in King's Landing?"

Luke was startled.

"Staying in King's Landing?"

"Yes," Eddard said. "I need reliable people to assist . You have ability, intelligence, and resources. If you are willing to stay, I can arrange a suitable position for you."

Luke smiled and shook his head.

"I am grateful for your kindness, my lord Hand, but my lands are still under construction and there is much work to be done. I truly cannot leave. Besides…"

He paused.

"I do not much like the whirlpool of power in King's Landing. The God's Eye is much quieter."

Eddard nodded in understanding.

He felt the sa way.

They chatted a while longer, and the topic turned to the ga of thrones.

Looking at the Lord of the North, Luke suddenly felt the urge to warn him.

"My lord Hand, there is sothing I feel I must say."

Lord Eddard nodded for him to continue.

"The ga of thrones is far more brutal than any battlefield," Luke said slowly. "On the battlefield you at least know who the enemy is. But in the ga of thrones, the enemy often hides behind a smiling face. They stop at nothing, and the human heart is unfathomable. It is either you die or I die."

Eddard frowned.

"It sounds as though you have experienced it."

"Of course. People refuse to believe I possess magic, yet they also believe I possess magic!"

Eddard frowned again. After a long silence he said, "I understand your good intentions. But I believe that integrity and honor will ultimately triumph over conspiracy and trickery. As long as I do what is right, I cannot go wrong!"

Luke looked at him and said nothing more.

So things could only be understood through personal experience.

After leaving the Tower of the Hand, Luke walked along the stone paths of the Red Keep, a faint smile on his lips.

His previous impression of Eddard Stark had always been limited to the labels "honest man," "overflowing with justice," and "unsuited for the ga of thrones."

But today's conversation had given him a new understanding.

Eddard Stark was not stupid!

The reason he had invited Luke today was not to hold him accountable for the conflict six months earlier, but to win over this magic rchant who belonged to no faction.

The Lord of the North knew that Luke had been recomnded for his title by Petyr, that he had good relations with the Westerlands, and that he had t people from Dorne.

Yet he had no clear allegiance and was soone every side wanted to recruit.

Winning him over ant winning over a force.

Eddard Stark stood alone and needed help, needed allies. In the original story he had set his sights on Littlefinger, believing the man was on his side.

But he was too upright, and that led to all the tragedies that followed.

Luke walked out of the Red Keep's main gate. Bronn and the guards ca forward to et him.

"My lord, is everything all right?"

"Everything is fine. Back to the mansion."

The column moved slowly forward, passing through the streets of King's Landing.

All along the way, pedestrians turned to stare. So were curious, so awed, so filled with longing.

"Lord Jaqenion!"

"That's Lord Jaqenion!"

"My lord, take in! I am willing to serve you!"

Several ragged refugees rushed over and knelt by the roadside, stretching their hands toward Luke. The patrolling gold cloaks moved to drive them away, but Luke waved them off, signaling that it was unnecessary.

He reined in his horse and looked at them.

Their eyes shone with hope.

Thanks to the water army's efforts, Luke's fa now rivaled that of the Wardens of the Realm.

Especially his reputation for generosity and loving the common people like his own children — it had spread throughout the Seven Kingdoms.

Countless people wanted to join his service, to escape the slums and live a better life.

"Bronn," Luke said.

"Here."

"Record their nas. When we leave King's Landing, take them with us."

Bronn nodded.

The refugees, hearing those words, burst into tears of joy and kowtowed repeatedly.

"Thank you, my lord! Thank you, my lord!"

Luke nodded and spurred his horse onward.

Behind him, the cheers continued for a long ti.

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