Chapter 11: Chaos is a Ladder
The Whispers, the feast hall.
Long tables were arranged in the center and on both sides of the great hall.
The tables were laden with glistening roasted meats, fresh fruits, and various wines.
Watching the young handmaidens bustling back and forth in the hall, Glyn's thoughts were elsewhere.
The handmaidens wore blue, round-collared, knee-length dresses.
Traditionally, the skirts of the handmaidens in The Whispers were very long. He constantly worried they might trip over their long hems and fall, not to mention how easily they stirred up dust. Glyn had secretly nicknamed them "floor-mopping skirts."
Glyn couldn't stand watching the handmaidens swishing before his eyes day after day. So, in the name of the handmaiden Kalaina, amidst his many pressing duties, he specifically arranged to have their skirts altered. The length was changed to just past the knee, and each of them was equipped with a pair of brown, mid-calf, soft leather boots.
With the addition of a headscarf, the signature Kleb handmaiden was born.
After the changes, Glyn finally found the sight of the handmaidens pleasing to the eye.
He had borrowed Kalaina's name because he worried that if he used his own and word of the skirt-altering incident spread, the customs of Westeros would grant him some shameful title like "the Skirt Lord."
He thought of Daenerys's titles: "Descendant of Old Valyria, Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Ruler of Westeros and Protector of the Realm, Khaleesi of the Dothraki of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt, Queen of Meereen, Breaker of Chains, and Mother of Dragons!"
And then he imagined his own: "...The Skirt Lord!"
He refused. He would never admit it.
The credit belonged to the naturally brilliant Kalaina.
...
Amidst roars of laughter, the crowd continuously raised their wine cups, and the atmosphere in the great hall grew even more fervent.
...
Glyn sat alone at the lord's long table, with only Carlaia attending him, holding a wine jug.
According to custom, only family members or other nobles could sit with the lord at his long table.
Glyn said, "Carlaia, you can put the wine jug here. Go join the feast. Look, your friends are all at that table over there."
Carlaia's small face showed considerable hesitation.
Glyn smiled and reached out to take the wine jug from Carlaia. "Go on. I'll call you if I need anything."
"Then... I'll just go have a look. I'll be back very soon!"
Not long after Carlaia left, a pair of slender, soft hands came into Glyn's view and picked up the wine jug.
Surana poured wine for Glyn. "My Lord, you will spoil Carlaia."
"Lady Surana, you always appear just when I need you."
"I am grateful for your recognition. I would be even more grateful if you could appropriately reduce my workload."
During this time, Herschel and Surana had been running in circles, overwhelmed by the endless tasks Glyn had assigned them.
"Have you run into difficulties?"
"They call themselves witch-doctors. Don't witch-doctors need to trim their fingernails? I'm certain they haven't trimmed them once since birth. And that perpetually foul odor clinging to them... My stomach has been upset since yesterday. The few healers in The Whispers have a very low opinion of them. Gathering them together is a disaster in itself. I even thought of my shortsword, which I haven't had cause to use in a long time."
Glyn understood. "It seems the witch-doctors lack the self-awareness of a captive."
After a pause, Glyn continued, "Surana, we must admit that they have a unique talent for treating external wounds and using herbs. The Kleb soldiers need more healers. With more healers and good wound medicine, we can save many soldiers."
"Veteran soldiers are our precious treasure."
"Your foresight is profound. I understand, my Lord. I just can't help wanting to draw my sword to scare those who refuse to listen."
Glyn nodded. "Indeed. As I just said, their status is that of captives, so you've already found the right approach. Arrange for it to be done. Whether it's trimming their fingernails or scrubbing them clean with a brush, first have soldiers place swords at their necks. You'll find it becomes much easier."
"Thank you for your help, my Lord."
After speaking, Surana glanced to the other side, frowning imperceptibly.
Carlaia's delicate hands held a wine cup, and she was happily chatting with other handmaidens her age.
Glyn followed Surana's gaze to the flush-faced Carlaia. "Carlaia is a fast learner. As her mother, you should be proud of her."
"You possess a benevolent heart."
"Saplings need time to grow, Lady Surana."
Within the Thorn Legion, only Aemparoa and Reina were qualified to attend the feast.
It was their first time attending a feast hosted by a lord, so Aemparoa and Reina were quite reserved at first. But after a few cups, swept up in the boisterous atmosphere, they too began to speak loudly and drink heartily.
Glancing at Aemparoa, Surana blinked and said, "I heard you are quite satisfied with her figure."
"Maester Al..." Glyn chuckled lowly. "Aemparoa is a straightforward warrior."
...
...
Somewhere in King's Landing, in a dimly lit room.
Petyr Baelish, "Littlefinger," had a pair of gray-green eyes and hair streaked with gray. He was slender, and his dark gray robe was impeccably neat, making him look like a septon.
Petyr Baelish's lips curved into an elegant smile. "Baron Greene Kleb. A very unfamiliar name."
"Yes, my lord. It seems Her Grace the Queen is very interested in him. I've checked: fifteen years old, a half-wildling noble from Crackclaw Point."
"A model Targaryen loyalist..."
The handsome curve of Petyr Baelish's mouth remained, his gaze serene. "One cannot rely on things floating about outside. Any information that hasn't been verified is no longer credible. The magic of King's Landing draws the steps of the ambitious every moment of every day."
"My lord, forgive my foolishness. Should we arrange for someone to investigate him more deeply?"
Petyr Baelish shook his head lightly before speaking. "No need to make special arrangements. Since our Queen has taken an interest, the little fellow will appear in King's Landing soon enough. The Red Keep has no secrets."
Petyr Baelish said in a low voice, "Chaos is a ladder."
...
...
One month later.
(end of chapter)
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