Three in the afternoon.
The weather was clear, and a gentle breeze swept across the land.
Outside the military camp, Stannis knelt on a meadow covered in small yellow flowers, his hands bound behind his back and his appearance utterly disheveled.
Not far in front of him stood a crooked tree, from which hung Melisandre's shriveled corpse.
He had been captured.
He knew his chances of survival were almost nonexistent.
Yet Stannis still regarded himself as king and kept his back straight as he stared toward the military camp.
He was waiting for the man who would execute him.
Stannis wanted to see exactly what kind of person this so-called Kingsguard was.
Soon, he got his wish.
The gates of the military camp opened wide.
Lords clad in various suits of armor led their soldiers out in orderly fashion, forming several battle formations in front of him.
Stannis gazed at the elite soldiers, a burning light flashing through his eyes.
'These... should have been soldiers sworn to me...'
His gaze swept from side to side, desperately searching for the man commanding these troops.
After a moment.
Stannis's eyes suddenly focused on the camp entrance.
A tall, handsome young man dressed in smoke-black scale armor was slowly walking toward him through the ranks of soldiers, supporting Catelyn.
Beside them walked a little girl and a black-haired, blue-eyed boy.
Behind them came a host of familiar faces.
'Royce of Runestone, Edmure of Riverrun, Ser Barristan of the Kingsguard...'
Stannis muttered under his breath, his expression growing increasingly furious.
"Why?"
"Why would you rather help that usurper Stark than help me?!"
"I am the true king of the Seven Kingdoms!"
"You traitors! Usurpers!"
He roared at Galon and the others.
His words were met only with mocking laughter from those around him.
Galon did not immediately respond.
When he came closer, he released Catelyn's arm and nodded to her, Arya, and Gendry before walking toward Stannis.
"Lord Stannis, you ask why? Then I'll tell you why."
Galon stopped directly in front of him, his sharp eyes meeting Stannis's gaze.
He pointed toward the shriveled corpse hanging from the crooked tree. "Do you know whose corpse that is?"
Stannis glanced at it and shook his head.
"The red priestess you sent to assassinate me."
Galon's words left Stannis stunned.
His eyes instinctively returned to the corpse.
Yet he could not see even the slightest trace of Melisandre in the shriveled remains.
"Glover, you won't deceive me. Melisandre could never have become like this!"
Galon sneered.
"Deceive you? Do you think using evil magic comes without a price?"
He pointed toward Stannis's face.
"You used sorcery to murder Prince Renly and Lord Stark. Did you truly notice nothing strange happening to your own body?"
Stannis was rendered speechless.
Of course he knew.
His face had aged considerably, while his eyes looked like dark-blue bruises embedded in his skull.
"You sent Melisandre to assassinate me with her evil sorcery.
If the gods had not favored me, I might have become another victim of your sinister schemes.
Are these really the actions of a king?"
Galon shouted the question.
Without waiting for Stannis to answer, he turned and pointed toward King's Landing.
"The king of the Seven Kingdoms should carry the hopes and future of every person in the realm!
The man sitting upon the Iron Throne... His heart should be righteous!
His methods should be just!
If even a king becomes consumed by schemes, jealousy, and reckless ambition, what right does he have to earn the love and trust of the Seven Kingdoms?"
Galon turned back toward Stannis and delivered his judgment.
"Fifteen years ago, your elder brother, King Robert, was able to overthrow the Mad King for precisely this reason.
But you...
You are unworthy of the crown!"
Stannis's entire body trembled.
He wanted to argue.
Yet he could find no words with which to refute Galon.
Finally.
His heart utterly defeated, Stannis lowered his head and stared blankly at the little yellow flowers beneath him.
Memories of his past flashed through his mind like a revolving lantern.
'Renly...'
'I was wrong... I was wrong...'
Galon looked at him coldly and drew the greatsword from his waist.
"I, Galon Glover, commander of the armies of the North, the Vale, the Riverlands, and the Iron Islands, Kingsguard and Lord of Deepwood Motte, hereby judge Stannis Baratheon guilty of kinslaying and treason!"
"I hereby sentence you... To death!"
He raised the greatsword high.
With Catelyn's satisfaction, Arya's excitement as she covered her eyes, Gendry's shaken expression, and tens of thousands of witnesses watching, Galon suddenly brought the sword down.
Slash!
The blade fell.
A head that had once worn a crown rolled across the ground.
"Long live the Kingsguard!"
"The God-touched Glover!"
"Avenge King Robb!"
In an instant, thunderous cheers once again shook the heavens.
In one corner of the camp, Davos listened to the cheers filling the sky, his expression sorrowful.
He slowly leaned against the wooden palisade and remained there for a long time without moving, as though bidding farewell to the lord he had once sworn to serve.
At the scene itself, Catelyn's body trembled.
Tears poured from her eyes like a broken dam.
"Robb..."
"Galon has avenged you..."
Arya heard the pain in her mother's whispered voice.
She reached out and took Catelyn's hand, trying to offer her some comfort.
Then Arya looked toward Galon. She knew there was still one more thing about to happen.
Sure enough.
Galon raised a hand, signaling for silence, and gradually brought the noisy crowd under control.
"My lords!"
He planted his greatsword into the grass and leaned both hands against its hilt.
"Stannis Baratheon, kinslayer and traitor, has been judged!
We have avenged Lord Robb Stark!
But the true culprits are still sitting upon the Iron Throne in King's Landing, laughing at us!
They twist right and wrong, trample upon honor and justice, and portray us as the source of this rebellion!
But they have forgotten one thing.
The legitimate royal blood of the Seven Kingdoms belongs to House Baratheon, not to those incest-born bastards!
Now, the gods have not abandoned House Baratheon.
They allowed Prince Gendry to escape and find his way here..."
At that moment, Galon nodded toward Gendry, signaling him to come over.
Gendry looked nervous.
His hands were clenched tightly, as though he were gripping something invisible.
He slowly walked toward Galon.
Countless eyes were fixed upon him.
With every step, the pressure became heavier.
It was only a dozen or so steps, yet to Gendry it felt as though he were walking through an entire lifetime.
"Allow me to introduce him!"
Galon announced loudly.
"Gendry Baratheon is one of King Robert Baratheon's legitimized bastards and the first heir in line to the Iron Throne!
For the sake of uniting all forces resisting the Lannisters!
For the sake of restoring order to the realm!
Today, before the witnesses of the New Gods and the Old Gods...
He shall enter into a marriage alliance with Lady Arya Stark of Winterfell in the North!"
Boom!
The nobles and soldiers raised their weapons at the same time and shouted excitedly.
"Marriage alliance!"
"Marriage alliance!"
Amid the cheers, Catelyn released Arya's hand and gently stroked her daughter's hair.
"My Arya, go."
Arya was in a low mood.
She pursed her lips and stepped forward.
However.
After only two steps, she suddenly quickened her pace and ran like a gust of wind toward Galon and Gendry.
"Hurry up and say it. The sooner we finish, the sooner it's over."
Catelyn closed her eyes in pain.
"Seven Hells... How did I never teach her proper manners in Winterfell?"
Gendry stood awkwardly beside her, not knowing what to say.
The corner of Galon's mouth twitched.
He pretended not to notice.
He slowly turned his head and quietly instructed the two of them.
"Hold hands."
Gendry took a deep breath.
He turned his head toward the wild, almost boyish girl beside him.
Memories of everything they had experienced while fleeing together surfaced in his mind.
The friendship they had formed as companions eased his nervousness.
Gendry forced a smile and slowly extended his hand.
Arya first glanced at Catelyn.
Seeing the expectation in her mother's eyes, she finally seemed to resign herself to fate and placed her hand into Gendry's.
The instant their hands touched—
Gendry's face flushed red.
He nervously looked upward.
Arya, meanwhile, seemed to have been shocked by an electric current and immediately turned her head away.
This comical yet solemn scene symbolized the beginning of a new era in the eyes of everyone present.
Galon's eyes flickered slightly.
He pulled his greatsword from the ground and walked before Gendry.
Then he laid the blade across Gendry's feet.
Galon knelt on one knee and lowered his head.
"I, Galon Glover, Lord of Deepwood Motte and commander of the armies of the North, the Vale, the Riverlands, and the Iron Islands, Kingsguard, hereby swear my allegiance to you, my king!"
At Galon's gesture, Catelyn and the northern lords knelt on one knee and swore their allegiance.
Next.
Edmure and Lord Royce also stepped forward and laid their swords at Gendry's feet.
"I, Edmure Tully, Lord of Riverrun, swear my allegiance to you, my king."
"I, Yohn Royce, Protector of the Vale, swear my allegiance to you, my king."
In an instant.
All the lords and soldiers of the Riverlands and the Vale followed.
Like waves of wheat swept by the wind, they dropped to their knees in unison.
"Long live the king!"
The oath echoed across the entire Trident crossing.
The magnificent scene before him caused Gendry's pupils to widen.
A strange feeling surged through his heart.
'I'm king?'
'I really am king?'
'From now on, I don't have to look at anyone else's expression. I don't have to hide and run anymore!'
Gendry was overwhelmed with excitement.
Without realizing it, he tightened his grip on Arya's hand.
He nearly made her cry out in pain.
Fortunately, Galon gave a quiet cough, bringing Gendry back to his senses.
He smiled apologetically at Arya before following Barristan's instructions and helping Lord Royce and the others back to their feet one by one.
Only Galon remained kneeling.
The others noticed this and exchanged strange looks.
For a moment, they had no idea what Gendry intended to do.
Gendry, however, simply cleared his throat.
He tried to keep his voice from trembling.
Then, following the words Barristan had taught him, he announced in a solemn tone that even he found unfamiliar.
"I, Gendry the First of House Baratheon, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm...
Do hereby appoint my loyal and trusted subject...
Galon Glover, commander of the armies of the North, the Vale, the Riverlands, and the Iron Islands, Kingsguard and Lord of Deepwood Motte...
As my Hand of the King, the chief minister of the realm!
Lord Glover shall have full authority over all armies loyal to me and shall lead them in the campaign against the usurpers in King's Landing!"
With that, he stepped forward and personally helped Galon to his feet.
Under the gaze of tens of thousands, Gendry pulled a crude badge from his clothes.
It looked as though it had been hastily forged.
He pinned the ugly insignia of the Hand of the King onto Galon's chest.
"My Hand!"
Gendry looked at Galon with complete dependence and trust.
"From this point onward, I entrust everything to you!"
Galon's expression remained calm, as though everything had unfolded exactly as he expected.
He nodded solemnly.
"Your Grace, Glover will fight to the death to reclaim King's Landing for you."
Immediately afterward, Galon turned toward everyone and shouted:
"For the king!"
The entire army responded almost simultaneously with feverish enthusiasm.
"Long live the Kingsguard!"
"For the Hand of the King!"
Barristan watched the scene unfold, the joy on his face suddenly freezing.
He realized that he had underestimated Galon's prestige within the army.
Even at this moment, the person everyone trusted was the undefeated Glover, not King Gendry.
'There is still a long road ahead.'
'Fortunately, Glover is a renowned and loyal subject.'
'The Kingsguard should not have anything to fear from him.'
Looking at Galon standing before the king, Barristan temporarily put aside his concerns.
Thus, amid thunderous cheers, Galon became the Hand of the King, second only to the king himself and above every other subject in the Seven Kingdoms.
At the same time, Tywin, who was in Harrenhal, finally received the report from his vanguard.
__________
Upto 20 chapters ahead on patreon :-
patreon.com/Xorath