To everyone's surprise, including Dany's, Randyll Tarly removed his helmet and knelt on one knee before the High Sparrow. Reverently, he lifted the High Sparrow's thin, calloused right hand and kissed the back of it.
The High Septon didn't flinch and accepted the earl's gesture with composure.
Standing among the crowd of the Faith Militant, Dany saw Sam's father for the first time—a towering man nearly two meters tall, with a square, rugged face, a clean-shaven bald head, and stiff grey stubble along his jaw.
At first glance, Dany understood this was a soldier forged from steel-like will. His sharp and penetrating eyes suggested he might be rigid in his ways but by no means lacking in intellect.
After the formalities, Tarly stood up, put his helmet back on, and went straight to the point:
"Your Grace, I come on behalf of Queen Margaery. The Tyrells are liege lords to House Tarly, and I myself am a vassal of the Iron Throne. There are some things I must do, whether I want to or not."
"I understand," the High Sparrow nodded, his expression calm. "But Her Grace the Queen faces multiple charges. I cannot simply halt her trial."
"Queen Margaery is not avoiding trial," said Tarly, firm and steady, "but during the proceedings, she must not remain imprisoned within the Sept. I am willing to swear an oath to serve as her guarantor. Under my supervision, she will surely appear for her final ecclesiastical trial."
Count Tarly's powerful voice spoke soft, compromising words.
His statement was essentially an indirect acknowledgment that the church had the authority to put the queen on trial and that Margaery still held the status of a defendant. What he was offering was bail—his reputation and military might serving as collateral—so that Margaery could be released temporarily pending trial.
Unsurprisingly, the High Sparrow chose to accept the offer at its peak.
"Very well. Lord Tarly may take Queen Margaery."
Randyll Tarly nodded and waved his hand. His cavalrymen began shouting commands, directing the spearmen and shield-bearers to fall back and clear the area.
About fifteen minutes later, Tarly's army had abandoned their posture of intimidation and re-formed into ten orderly columns. At that moment, eight broad-shouldered, stern-faced septas arrived, escorting three frightened, quail-like girls.
The "virgin queen" Margaery and her two cousins had tangled hair and dirt-smeared faces. They wore rough burlap dresses, looking more like college girls tricked into marriage in some remote mountain village than nobility. The former "Rose of Highgarden" was nowhere to be seen.
"Your Grace," Randyll Tarly quickly unfastened the thick blue wool cloak from his shoulder and stepped forward to drape it over the calmest of the three girls, a brown-haired maiden. "Your Grace, it's over now. I'll take you home."
"Wuuuuu..." The pale-faced girl finally collapsed into Tarly's arms, sobbing. The other two girls clung to each other and also burst into tears.
Once Tarly helped the queen mount a warhorse and over a thousand soldiers surrounded them as they departed, the High Sparrow finally let out a sigh and waved to dismiss the Faith Militant.
"Kai'Sa, you were right. Times have changed. The Church's armed forces are no longer a match for any major noble house," the High Sparrow said helplessly upon returning to the Sept's great hall.
"Your Grace need not worry too much," Dany comforted him. "You hold great influence among the people of King's Landing. No noble would dare risk widespread outrage by staining the Sept with blood."
Hold strong, High Sparrow!
You must not back down now—not for Margaery, fine, let her go—but with Cersei, you absolutely must not relent. You need to make an example of her.
With that thought, Dany spoke up with a suggestion:
"Your Grace, the biggest problem in King's Landing right now is food. Whoever has grain, whoever can feed the common folk, is the one who gets to speak with authority.
The most urgent thing you must do is secure a loan from the Braavosi and gather every last grain from the Free Cities."
"And what can I offer as collateral?" the High Sparrow asked, frowning.
"The Church Bank! The one in Oldtown could easily be worth three or four million gold dragons in collateral."
That very bank had loaned a million gold dragons to the Iron Throne alone. After the High Sparrow annulled that debt with a single decree in King's Landing, the bank in Oldtown didn't even show a hint of financial trouble. That alone showed how incredibly wealthy the supposedly pious "servants of the Seven" really were.
"My orders don't reach Oldtown," the High Sparrow said, troubled.
Voiding the Iron Throne's debt had only required a few words, and even if the Oldtown bank wasn't pleased, they couldn't exactly force the King to repay a now nonexistent loan.
But getting the bank to actively send money to aid refugees in King's Landing was another matter entirely—unless one day, the High Sparrow stormed the Starry Sept with a host of Sparrows.
"Sell it cheap!" Dany's eyes flashed as she sneered, "Of course the Iron Bank knows you don't control the Church Bank—otherwise, you wouldn't be coming to them for a loan.
But ever since Braavos was founded, not a single person has defaulted on even a single copper to the Iron Bank. They are never short on confidence when it comes to reclaiming debts. The only thing that matters is whether a deal is worth their trouble.
If the Church Bank is worth five million gold dragons, offer it to them at half-price. They'll absolutely give you two and a half million in return."
"No, I can't do that," the High Sparrow immediately shook his head and refused. "I cannot sell off Church property at a loss. The Seven would never forgive such a sinful act."
"Oh, Your Grace, you're just too honest!" Dany sighed, shaking her head as she offered an utterly unscrupulous plan. "I'm telling you, the Church won't lose a single coin.
Once you get the money, immediately inform the bankers in Oldtown about the collateral.
They know how formidable the Iron Bank is. To protect their own interests, they'll quickly move the Church Bank's assets—either leaving a pile of worthless accounts behind or simply declaring the bank bankrupt."
"Of course, the Braavosi aren't fools. The contract they signed with you surely specifies the 'Church Bank.'
Even if the Church Bank of Oldtown goes bankrupt, once a new Church Bank is established in the future, they'll still be owed the money."
"Yes, as long as the Faith of the Seven exists, we can never truly escape it," the High Sparrow nodded.
"Heh, then just declare the Church Bank permanently bankrupt and never open another one!"
"Well… the Church's economy mainly relies on lending and donations from nobles. Donations are very unstable—without the bank, the Church would lose about 80% of its income."
Damn, 80% from lending? You monks are seriously shady!
Dany grumbled inwardly, but kept a cheerful smile on her face. "Just change the name!"
"Change the name?" The High Sparrow looked confused.
"Let the Iron Throne and House Hightower step in to establish a 'Westerosi Central Bank.' The shares would still be controlled by the Church, with the Seven Kingdoms, the Iron Throne, and House Hightower jointly guaranteeing it. Its credibility won't be any worse than the Church Bank."
"Uh..." The High Sparrow finally understood. Though it was somewhat shameless, it was highly feasible.
He looked at Dany in astonishment, thinking to himself: Not only did she bleed the Iron Bank dry, she also managed to deal with those unruly High Septs in Oldtown. This High Priestess Kessa is truly cunning.
Then another thought occurred to him: Well, makes sense. To establish the Faith of the Seven in a ruthless place like Essos, you'd have to be shrewd—otherwise, the Church wouldn't survive!
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"Give me some time to think it over. The Church can barely hold out for a while longer."
"There's no time left to think," Dany said with a sigh. "Let me be honest—within a few months, food prices will skyrocket. The same amount of gold will only buy one-tenth or even one-hundredth of what it does now."
"Why? Even with winter coming, prices shouldn't rise that much," the High Sparrow asked, puzzled.
"Have you heard of the Mother of Dragons?"
"Daenerys Targaryen?" The old man's face wrinkled as he gave a bitter smile. "The Free Cities have already formed an alliance—I'd have to be blind not to know. It's because I know how terrifying she and her dragons are that I've been so eager to expand the Church's military."
Knew it—you're a real troublemaker!
Dany shot him a sideways glance. "If she really returns to take the throne, what would the Church do?"
"That would depend on her faith. To the Church, there's little difference between the Lannisters, Baratheons, or Targaryens. Oh—no, I would never allow that traitor Stannis to sit the Iron Throne."
Good—compared to the Citadel, this troublemaker is at least salvageable.
Makes sense. The Citadel wants to create a world without magic or gods, but at least faithful followers like the High Sparrow don't believe the Seven are just wooden idols.
The Church and the Citadel are ideologically opposed—they'll never see eye to eye.
"Soon, the Mother of Dragons will begin stockpiling grain from the Riverlands and the Disputed Lands. Yes, she's very likely aiming for the Iron Throne."
"I see…" the old man sighed and nodded. "I'll contact the Braavosi tomorrow."
The two then talked for more than two hours, mostly discussing their respective interpretations of the Seven-Pointed Star.
Although the High Sparrow was displeased with "High Priestess Kessa" altering parts of the doctrine, he had to admit that her ideas about "reforming customs and enhancing the core competitiveness of the Faith" made a lot of sense.
The Red God's church is terrifying. The entire world is nearly stained red, and one king in Westeros was even convinced to burn statues of the Seven—that's horrifying!
When Dany finally took her leave, the High Sparrow even felt reluctant to see her go.
Looking across the Seven Kingdoms, only "High Priestess Kessa" truly understood him. She even proposed a more advanced "Puritan Theory" and showed real determination and courage in resisting the Red God. It was rare—precious, even.
He thought, Born saints—there are only two of us in this world!
The High Sparrow personally escorted her to the door, and as a parting gift, he gave her two handwritten booklets on the Faith of the Seven—one penned by Saint Baelor, and the other by himself.
"Alas, times are hard here too. Otherwise, I'd send a few hundred of the Warrior's Sons to help you fight the heretics."
The old man spoke with sincerity, and Dany thanked him repeatedly. Just as the two were reluctantly parting, voices drifted up from the stone steps below.
"Hey, you're a knight of the Seven—why won't you join us? You've seen how arrogant Randyll Tarly is."
A Warrior's Son draped in a rainbow cloak was trying to recruit Barristan Selmy.
"But I already serve a master," the White Knight replied.
Another church knight raised his sword and said passionately, "In times like these, all anointed knights should abandon their worldly lords and unite under the Holy Church. Fight with us, old knight—if you still love the Seven!"
Seeing this, the High Sparrow quickly stepped forward to intervene. "Dustin, Ser Arstan has his mission. He can't stay here."
If it were up to me, I'd send all of you to High Priestess Kessa! And you're still trying to poach her people? That tiny church of hers has only a few dozen knights, yet she has to face tens of thousands of Fiery Hand troops from the Red God. It's too much!
(End of Chapter)
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