Even after the three consecutive horn blows, the soldiers of the City Watch took more than a couple of hours to assemble near the Red Keep.
While a few had genuinely been far away and required an hour to arrive, quite a number of them had failed to recognise the meaning of the three horn blasts.
Around 2,000 men now stood facing the large podium in the training yard.
Three figures stood a step above them on a large podium. Lucas Lannister, his sworn sword Ser Gary, and Janos Slynt, who now stood one step behind Lucas.
Lucas's eyes remained fixed on the soldiers.
They were well armed, clad in glistening golden armour, and carried high quality swords. Individually, many of them were above average fighters, but as an organised force meant to work together, they were pathetic.
They were lack lustre without any sense of proper responsibility. They hardly did any positive work and were corrupt to their core.
Their lack of coordination and the delay in assembling had made that clear. It had been years since these soldiers had undergone any proper drills. They had no contingency plans, no mapped out routes in mind, and no idea how to respond to a city wide emergency.
Lucas would not really blame these soldiers. They were responsible but far less responsible than the people controlling them. Janos Slynt. Petyr Baelish. Renly Baratheon. And Jon Arryn who practically ran the empire in place of the king.
Aside from decent swordsmanship, these men were poorly trained in the duties required to patrol and guard a city. They had no training whatsoever about how to deal with the general populace of the city.
A number of soldiers stood in bewilderment, glancing at the man standing ahead of Janos Slynt.
Many were from the Westerlands, with ties to House Lannister, and most of them recognised Lucas. Even those who had not personally seen him could tell by the golden hair and noble bearing.
These were the very men Cersei Lannister had inducted into the Watch to solidify her own influence.
"Men," Lucas's voice boomed across the yard. It was enough to jolt many of the sleepy or distracted guards to attention.
"I assume you have not heard the news," he continued. "So let me break it to you."
"As of now, I am your Lord Commander. Lord Commander of the City Watch."
A wave of commotion swept through the ranks. They had not heard any such thing, but it did not seem like a lie. Janos Slynt standing silently behind him, offering no protest, was proof enough that this golden haired man spoke the truth.
"Many of you may recognise me," Lucas went on, "and many may not."
"I am Lucas Lannister."
The name rang like a bell through the heads of every man present. They all knew who he was.
"You know," he said, "why I showed no hesitation in gathering all of you here in the yard without a care for what might happen to the city's security while you are gone?"
"Because you are all pathetic," he thundered.
The soldiers were stunned and so was Janos Slynt.
"You cannot contain crime in this city. You cannot uphold justice. And you are all corrupt to the core," he boomed. "But all this ends from this moment onwards."
"You may not be ready or might think my words as baseless claims. And I would not repeat the same words and try to convince you. But try to challenge my authority and see what I do to all of you."
.
While Lucas was busy setting new rules and establishing his authority over the City Watch, a very different scene was unfolding in Petyr Baelish's office.
"Lysa? What are you doing here?" Petyr asked, startled and visibly uneasy as he allowed the women in front of him to enter through the gates of his solar. Lysa Arryn.
"I received your letter," Lysa said, wearing a maddening grin. "And you had not come to visit me for so long. I thought it best to come see you myself."
Petyr had the urge to land a slap at her, but he could not. She was his gateway. Gateway to success. To his dream. To chaos and to the ladder arising from that chaos.
He suppressed his frustration, quickly forcing a tight smile as he took her hand and led her toward his desk. With one swift motion, he pulled a hidden lever tucked behind a wooden shelf. The panel shifted aside, revealing a narrow passage.
Even though his solar was secure, his most trusted men never allowing anyone in without explicit permission, an extra layer of caution was always wise.
Behind the secret door lay a small, dimly lit room. A single bed was tucked into the corner, and several wooden chests rested against the opposite wall. The chests were filled with critical documents and a portion of his siphoned wealth. The rest of it was hidden inside his brothel.
Once they were inside, Petyr shut the passage behind them. The flickering light of a lone torch was the only illumination in the cramped space.
"You should not have come here now," he sighed. "It is far too risky."
Lysa snorted but did not argue.
"I'm here for what you asked me to bring," she said, puffing her chest with pride.
"You have it?" Petyr asked, extending a hand.
"I have it," she replied, pulling a small stamp from beneath her garments and waving it before his eyes.
It was the stamp of Jon Arryn. The seal of the Hand of the King.
Petyr, to avoid being caught for the corruption he had been doing for years, would have to manipulate the books. Well, manipulating them was quite easy. He could easily write another set of records which matched the actual reality and fool Lucas. But the problem was something else.
Every payment made from the treasury, required permission either from the hand or the king himself. And only after their seal were stamped on the records were the payment made.
Thus, to make his false payments as correct, he needed the seal of the hand. He would create false records and stamp it with it the seal. Although, it had a risk since Jon Arryn would surely remember what was the number of the soldiers who were being paid, but he could only hope that Lucas and Jon Arryn would not talk about this at all. While this was risky, this was the only method he could think of. At least, the chill in the relation between Lucas and Arryn was something that gave an added confidence to Baelish.
And thankfully for him, Lisa was ready to even bring Jon Arryn's head let alone his stamp.
Petyr raised his hand to reach for the seal but Lisa pulled it back with a grin.
"Not so easy, Petyr," she smirked as she placed it back behind her garments. "If you want it, take it yourself."
Petyr sighed as he took a step forward and pulled the straps of her clothing making her bare chested. The seal fell with a clung but Petyr was already pushing Lisa on the bed.
As long as he did not have Catelyn, her sister would do.
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