The Hand nodded silently, his fingers unconsciously touching the Hand of the King badge pinned at his throat, feeling the fine engraving on its surface.
At last, Eddard raised his head.
"Ser Kal, you are the Master of Coin. I imagine you will have far more ideas than we do."
"So I think perhaps you can give it a try."
As the Hand, Eddard thus gave his approval for Kal's plan for the grand tournament.
And in this Small Council of only four members, Kal's proposal was, one could say, unanimously passed.
"This will be quite a grand undertaking—"
Ser Barristan thought for a moment, finally offering what could hardly be called a question.
In response, Kal narrowed his eyes and looked over at him.
"Ser Barristan, what do you think is the most important thing about this grand event? The venue? The golden dragons?"
"Or perhaps the contestants who come to participate and win?"
Ser Barristan Selmy had not expected his casual remark to be turned back upon him.
He pondered briefly, then made a gesture with his hand that signified money.
"I think it still comes down to gold. Without golden dragons, we can do nothing. After all, slavery is not legal in the Seven Kingdoms."
"If the slaves you refer to are the kind I have in mind, then I believe Lord Eddard's ancestral sword, Ice, would soon be resting upon my neck."
"Then Lord Eddard would, in the King's name, pronounce judgment and strike off my head with Ice."
Eddard Stark did not laugh at Kal's jest.
Because it reminded him of that former Lord of Bear Island—and of the spy the King had later told him about, a murderer who had killed children.
"Go on, Kal, stop keeping us in suspense," said the Hand, his tone somewhat weary.
"Reputation!"
"Only reputation is the very foundation that sustains everything I have spoken of."
"So we must achieve fairness, justice, and openness!"
"This shall be the slogan of our organizing committee!"
"Kal, it seems you already had this in mind."
"Do the first one well—only then can there be a next, can't there?"
"The victors, besides gaining glory and wealth, must also have their honor guaranteed to be fair and just."
"And all of this is what I call reputation—or rather, honor!"
"It is the very cornerstone of everything I have described. As long as we uphold it, everything we hope to gain will indeed be gained."
"My lords, I cannot even imagine what kind of grand spectacle this festival will become hundreds of years from now."
As the newly appointed Master of Coin, Kal painted grand prospects before the Small Council without the slightest hint of embarrassment.
"Kal, perhaps you're right. Go ahead with it. If everything unfolds as you've described, then perhaps we'll no longer have to worry about whether there's any coin left in the royal treasury."
The Hand smiled as he spoke, his gaze toward Kal Stone filled with unrestrained satisfaction.
As a lord, he certainly understood the importance of commerce and taxation.
"Ser Kal, you're a genius," said Varys, clapping his hands as if genuinely moved by Kal's brilliance.
Barristan nodded in tacit agreement with the two men's words.
As Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, he could not participate much in political matters.
Kal, however, did not let their praise make him proud. Seizing the moment, he laid the groundwork: "I'll do my best to make this succeed. But if possible, I hope to have your support."
The newly appointed Master of Coin wore a gentle smile.
"Of course. Whatever you require, just speak it—we'll cooperate as needed," Lord Eddard said without objection, settling the matter with a decisive nod.
He then continued, "All right, time is pressing. We still have much to discuss and finalize."
"As for Kal's appointment, let it stand as is for now. Regarding the holding of the tourney and Kal's proposal, I'll report everything to the King afterward."
"Now, let us move on to the next topic."
The Hand quickly reined in his thoughts—even though Kal had just proposed something that shook the very imagination.
But after all, everything Kal had said remained only on the surface; at present, it existed solely within the realm of imagination.
What would truly come of it remained to be seen.
Even more important now, however, was dealing properly with the matter of the war—and on that point, Lord Eddard was perfectly clear-headed.
"At Harrenhal, Tywin Lannister chose to surrender. King Robert accepted his intent and offered goodwill in return."
"But the real war is not yet fully over. Regarding the situation on Dragonstone and in the Westerlands—at Casterly Rock—what are your views?"
Eddard Stark flipped through the book before him, his expression solemn as he spoke of the two regions that had likewise been drawn into the conflict and turned into battlefields.
"The Iron Fleet must be driven back, and everything they've swallowed must be spat out again."
Having governed King's Landing for this period, Kal naturally knew of the confrontation between the Redwyne fleet from the Westerlands and the Ironborn fleet.
"And as for Casterly Rock, which the Tyrell family has occupied, their troops must also be withdrawn."
Kal spoke with upright conviction, intending in a single breath to make both great houses disgorge all the wealth they had plundered during the war.
Hearing Kal Stone's earnest words, Varys smiled and cast a glance toward the King's vacant seat. The layers of flesh on his plump face quivered slightly.
"Perhaps it won't be that easy—" The Eunuch's tone carried a hint of sly mockery.
Regarding this troublesome matter, Lord Eddard naturally understood the situation clearly.
He unconsciously tapped his fingers on the table, a troubled expression appearing on his face.
But in the end, he spoke firmly: "Those spoils of war do not belong to them. I will convey the will of the Iron Throne to them and censure their conduct."
"If they choose to refuse, then I imagine the Iron Throne would not mind claiming yet another victory."
Eddard Stark's thoughts were the same as Kal Stone's.
He likewise felt indignant toward the opportunistic plundering of those two houses.
Back then, it had been the middle of a war—otherwise, he would have long since responded as the situation deserved.
For now, however, this matter could only be handled in this provisional manner.
It was more urgent to sort out the matters before them.
As for House Tyrell, Eddard harbored some other considerations.
Now that the war was ending, the situation at Casterly Rock would naturally ease. Each house should return to its own lands, each to its own seat of power.
Unless, of course, the Iron Islands intended to rebel against the Iron Throne once more—even the southern House Tyrell included.
If not, then so long as they continued to occupy lands that were not rightfully theirs, what awaited them would inevitably be the Iron Throne's wrath once again.
Facing an Iron Throne that had just won a war—and one in which it had unexpectedly suffered little loss while its power had only grown—any rational person would know better than to make an enemy of it at such a time.
All four present understood this perfectly, and thus did not dwell on the matter further.
"Then that leaves only the crisis at Dragonstone—and those pirates and mercenaries who've been harassing the coasts of the Stormlands."
Since the Hand already had his own views regarding the events in the Westerlands, Ser Barristan did not say much more, instead steering the discussion toward the true threats posed by those mercenaries from the Free Cities.
Ser Barristan once again took up the topic, speaking of the troubles encountered on the other side of the realm.
No—at this point, it could hardly be called a true crisis.
At most, it was a nuisance.
And speaking of this matter, Kal recalled that he had just received a letter from Jon.
"I do have some good news regarding this," Kal signaled.
Eddard, who had been fretting over how to deal with those bloodthirsty mercenaries left destitute by the Lannisters' defeat, instinctively turned his head toward Kal upon hearing this.
"Does it have to do with this matter?" asked the Hand.
"Of course. If the lords haven't forgotten, you should remember that I had Jon Snow deliver a certain gift to House Martell of Dorne."
Kal spoke with deliberate implication.
At his words, the others were reminded of the recent tales surrounding Kal Stone—and of course, they all knew exactly what that "gift" had been.
The head of Gregor Clegane, the Mountain.
"That was indeed a noble gift. I imagine House Martell will be most pleased with your thoughtfulness, Ser Kal," said Varys in agreement.
Kal merely spread his hands. "So, the good news is that their fleet at sea will assist us."
"At the very least, I think the siege crisis at Dragonstone should no longer pose any problem."
"That truly is good news," said Ser Barristan.
But Kal did not stop there and continued speaking.
"Jon also happened to resolve Lord Renly Baratheon's confrontation with the Dornish army at Blackhaven. He told me that Dorne has already withdrawn its forces."
"So, the troops within the Stormlands should be able to return and deal with the bandits plaguing their coastal regions. Of course, there are still some lingering matters concerning the Lannisters."
"And in addition, he told me that Prince Oberyn Martell will be coming to King's Landing with his family. Among them are Princess Arianne Martell of Dorne and her brother Quentyn Martell."
"However, since they are traveling by sea, Princess Arianne and her companions will first arrive at Dragonstone. Perhaps they might even come to King's Landing together with Lord Stannis Baratheon."
At these words, the gazes of all three turned toward the Hand.
Eddard Stark frowned slightly, looking somewhat puzzled. "Jon? And House Martell?"
"Yes, my lord," Kal shrugged, not finding Eddard Stark's focus on that point strange.
Perhaps he had not expected Jon Snow to be mingling with House Martell—or perhaps he had thought of something else—but the expression on Eddard's face was far from cheerful.
Instead, a trace of worry had gathered between his brows.
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