chapter 85 part 2
"Then what about Lord Renly..."
"Lord Renly? Why did you suddenly mention him? Are you hiding something? Aha! I'll give you one more chance. Quickly share what you know with your sisters!"
So, even Highgarden had no secrets.
A faint smile touched the corners of Glyn's lips. He silently lay down on the long bench, placed his hands behind his head, closed his eyes, and continued to passively eavesdrop.
...
...
The Red Keep, Tower of the Hand.
The health of Hand of the King Jon Arryn was deteriorating by the day, finally alarming King Robert Baratheon, who had been engrossed in hunting, forcing him to return to King's Landing.
Robert stared for a moment at the old and decrepit Lord Jon Arryn leaning against the headboard, his laughter booming, "Jon, you're looking better than I imagined. Seeing you so full of life, we could visit a brothel together tonight."
In his youth, Robert had been clean-shaven, tall, and magnanimous. His eyes were clear and charming, like a maiden's dream lover.
After taking the crown, Robert had overindulged in food, wine, and women, causing his weight to increase beyond remedy. His waistline became as astonishing as his height, and the slightest movement left him panting and drenched in sweat. Although his thick, black beard covered his double chin, nothing could conceal his round belly and the heavy dark circles under his eyes.
...
"Heh... cough, cough!"
Jon couldn't help but chuckle, but a tickle in his throat made him cough.
Robert sat on the edge of the bed, laughing heartily.
Jon suppressed his cough and said, "You fat man who only knows how to sweat!"
"Fat man? Are you talking about me? Jon, how dare you speak to your King like that?"
As he spoke, the mock-angry expression on Robert's face broke into another hearty laugh. He continued, "To the hells with it, you're always right!"
The smile vanished from Robert's face, his tone turning serious. "Jon, you need to get well soon. I know perfectly well what a fatuous king I am, as useless as the Mad King. If you weren't here to guide me, the gods would show me no mercy."
Jon weakly shook his head. "You are not like the Mad King; you are far better than him."
Robert didn't know why he had suddenly brought up the Mad King. The thought of him filled Robert with rage. "The gods take them all! All I ever wanted was Lyanna, but you all shoved this damn crown on my head! If only she could return to my arms, everything would be as it was!"
Jon listened quietly to Robert's complaints, though he had heard them countless times before.
Having seemingly vented his frustrations, Robert asked with a grin, "Jon, you know that saying about the King and his Hand, don't you?"
Jon nodded slightly and replied, "The King dreams, the Hand builds."
"A girl I bedded told me the smallfolk have a more fitting analogy: The King eats, and the Hand shits."
After saying this, Robert slapped his belly and roared with laughter.
Jon covered his mouth and coughed a few times. "The common people see things more clearly than we do. They mean that the king is responsible for enjoying fine food, while the Hand is responsible for dealing with the king's shit afterwards, and even has to wipe his arse for him."
Robert laughed again.
"Jon, you're no fun at all, always so serious. But... this time you made me laugh!"
...
After a pause, Jon spoke. "Robert, you must make plans early. Choose a new Hand of the King who can assist you. My body won't hold out for much longer. I can't give you much time. We can't let you rule the kingdom yourself simply because you were unprepared, can we?"
Robert stared at Jon for a moment, his tone helpless. "You know I've tried. Sitting on that Iron Throne and managing state affairs is a thousand times harder than seizing the throne.
"Dealing with laws is exhausting. Counting coppers is even more troublesome... and those endless petitions. I spend all day sitting on that damned iron chair listening to them whine about this and that. It numbs my mind and makes my arse ache.
"Every single one of them opens their mouth asking for money, or land, or legal favor... a bunch of bloody liars, and my own councillors are no better.
"They're either muddle-headed or they lie on purpose. I'm surrounded by idiots and flatterers. It's enough to drive a man mad.
"Jon, I saw that cunning Grand Maester Pycelle before I came here. I told him if he can't cure my Hand, I'll smash his skull in. He has already promised me he will restore you to health.
"You see, Jon, I am better suited to ruling the kingdom with a warhammer. So, you just focus on getting well. Leave the trivial matters to others for now. They may be idiots, but they can still run errands for you."
Jon shook his head slightly and said, "Eddard Stark."
Robert stood up. "You're truly stubborn."
"Robert... cough, cough!"
"Enough, I'll consider it. My head is aching now, and I don't want to hear any more of your nagging!"
...
...
Crackclaw Point, the old lands of House Clegane.
With the arrival of Glyn's letter, the pressure of the food shortage was alleviated, and the morale in the lands belonging to House Clegane quickly stabilized.
At the new Clegane Farmstead, Household Knight Mar Beck welcomed his fellow household knight, Ser Per Pily, and the Thorn Legion Commander, Aempa.
The lean and wiry Mar spread his arms wide and said, "Old friend, long time no see!"
Per, who had a new scar on his face, gave Mar a hug.
The result was a clatter and clang of plate armor—a very enthusiastic greeting, Crackclaw Point style.
Mar and Per separated, and Mar turned to Aempa with a smile, "Welcome, Aempa!"
Although Aempa was now the commander of the Thorn Legion, she was not yet a knight. Facing Mar and Ser Per, her status was a step below theirs.
Aempa placed a hand on her chest in salute. "Good day, Ser Mar."
Aempa had already proven her capabilities through her military achievements leading the Thorn Legion.
Mar knew in his heart that, given the Lord's trust in Aempa, Glyn would ennoble her as a knight when the time was right.
The women of Crackclaw Point were already formidable fighters, and with the establishment of the Thorn Legion, which consisted mainly of spear-wives, the reputation of the Clegane women had soared.
Furthermore, the lands of House Clegane had always had more women than men, which was different from most of Westeros. To a certain extent, this had naturally led to a form of gender equality.
We are all brothers who have fought and bled together!
Mar smiled and nodded. "Good day. Let's head inside. I imagine you're both missing the Marigold Ale. I've had it prepared for some time."
The three of them started walking.
Walking abreast, from left to right were Aempa at five-foot-nine, Mar at six-foot-one, and Per at six-foot-five.
The three formed a diagonal line.
As they walked, Mar turned his head to look at Per and suddenly said, "Per, that new decoration on your face looks good. Are the Mountain Clansmen putting up a tough counter-attack?"
Mar's words and tone conveyed his deep concern for his old friend.
But Per, who knew Mar well, heard the thick sarcasm in his words.
Per snorted, turning his head back to look at Mar, and said coldly, "I hear you have a new foster son. His name is... Darius?"
Mar snorted back. "Don't be jealous, old friend. That is a sign of Lord Glyn's trust in my House."
Per, who rarely smiled, forced a strange grin for the sake of mocking his old friend. "My intelligence is not lacking, old friend. I know this is all thanks to the accomplishments of your eldest son, Marwell."
Mar and Per glared at each other.
*How childish,* Aempa thought, subtly slowing her pace to put some distance between them.
Inside the building.
Per drained a full mug of Marigold Ale in one go, set it down with a thud, and said, "Mar, Aempa, I think we can proceed to the second phase of the Eastern Advance Plan."
The Clegane Eastern Advance Plan was divided into two phases.
The first phase prioritized military conquest, with subjugation as a secondary goal.
Communication between the Mountain Clansmen tribes was slow. By not giving them a chance to communicate and unite, they could swiftly defeat the larger tribes while reclaiming the old lands.
The second phase prioritized subjugation, with military conquest as a secondary goal.
With the larger tribes conquered, the remaining ones were all small to medium-sized. The spoils of war from them would not even cover the cost of deploying troops.
In truth, by the standards of Crackclaw Point, no one would bother with such calculations. Any fight was a good fight, and winning it was perfection.
There were times when Mar and Per did not understand some of Glyn's arrangements, but their status was that of household knights. They would not question; they would only execute.
For the household knights who had served House Clegane for generations, loyalty is honor.
Mar shrugged. "I have no objection. I'm in charge of settling the captives now. For me, the more captives, the greater my achievement. Entering the second phase will certainly increase the number of captives. As long as the timing is right, I am happy to support it!"
Per's gaze shifted to Aempa.
"Ser Per, I have no objection. The Thorn Legion will coordinate with the Scouting Corps' actions."
Per gave a steady nod, a silent thanks for Aempa's support, and the meeting was adjourned.
Thus, the highest-level military conference in the Clegane lands, for the time being, concluded with each of the three attendees—Per, Mar, and Aempa—saying just one sentence.
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