In King's Landing, Varys sat in his chair, toying with a crossbow in his hands; though not dazzling, it was deadly.
"Most people think a crossbow is a coward's weapon, and fat men and eunuchs are clearly cowards. But a crossbow is also a devil's weapon, simple and effective," Varys thought. Nowadays, the one most keen on using a crossbow in King's Landing was King Joffrey Baratheon; the King used the crossbow to mask his mediocre combat prowess.
"Let others cheer for a master of whisperers' disguise, fragrant and weak? They mostly think a fat man would be a coward, a master of whisperers with honeyed words. In truth, I was once a thief from the Free Cities, a nimble thief. But until the final moment, I cannot resort to force and expose myself," Varys threw down the crossbow, then took a map from his sleeve.
"Joffrey, our hot-tempered boy. The more hot-tempered he is, the more hearts he will lose," Varys thought, "But these hearts, they cannot all fall to the Storm. I want to scatter them, make people call for a savior and The Conqueror."
Varys looked at the map of Westeros, marked with colored trajectories, which were the advance routes of the major powers. The black and red arrow representing Gendry was advancing steadily and was now stopped at Riverrun. The white representing the Starks had reached Riverrun, and the red representing the Lannisters was retreating. As for the Iron Islands, Arryn, Highgarden, and Martell, they were all silent spectators.
"Fate is truly marvelous. A Child I casually saved back then is now threatening to destroy my work," Varys sighed. He still remembered that boy, there was no feeling of him being a rare commodity, it was just a casual act. Varys had put more effort into Edric, but he hadn't expected this lucky smith's bastard to stir up a storm.
When Varys met Gendry and threw him into a smithy, he merely wanted to prepare some potential trouble for Cersei, as the Little Birds already knew about the Lannister siblings' illicit affair. Varys then paid attention to Robert's two slightly older bastards: Gendry the smith, and Edric.
"I want to throw the Lords into chaos, let Cersei and Joffrey run wild. Let the Seven Kingdoms continue to weaken and crumble. I won't let anyone easily taste the fruits of victory; I want a scarred kingdom. Currently, the Direwolf, the trout, and Gendry are advancing south from the North, entangled with the Lannisters. And the Baratheon brothers of the Stormlands, the Tyrells of Highgarden, and the Martells of Dorne also show signs of entanglement and confrontation."
Varys looked at the curled red line; the Lannisters were concentrated near Harrenhal and King's Landing in the east. Varys needed to do his best to help the Lannisters, which was also why Varys had always been on good terms with The Imp. King's Landing needed to consume the forces of the Baratheons and Lannisters as much as possible, the more the better.
"No, I cannot let the Storm rage on. I want Aegon back. The Storm is not the King I want. Aegon began learning how to be a good ruler before he could even walk," Varys thought.
"A better way, a more wonderful way. As long as the Storm dares to come to King's Landing, then I will have a way to mess up the situation." Varys's eyes sparkled. Marrying Daenerys to others was originally a scheme to use others to achieve his goal, to raise an army, and then let Aegon take over. If Daenerys's husband was assassinated, and Little Aegon then intercepted Daenerys and her forces, their goal would be perfectly achieved. Whether it was Drogo or Gendry, they were merely sacrifices for the true King.
"But, but what is the Storm doing?" Varys was puzzled, not quite understanding Gendry's actions. Most likely, Gendry considered his troop advantage and wanted his two uncles to fight each other first, then he would reap the benefits. The Spider's intelligence was also tiered; the Little Birds were the core hidden in The Red Keep's tunnels, while others were paid informants. But intelligence obtained through money was certainly not as good as that from the Little Birds.
"My intelligence is not omnipotent after all; outside The Red Keep, my influence slowly weakens," Varys mused. He preferred places that were more commercially developed and open, as it made his infiltration easier. Whereas in closed and conservative places like The Eyrie, intelligence infiltration was too difficult. Currently, Varys was somewhat unclear about the movements in The Eyrie, Dragonstone, and even Riverrun.
Varys knew that Littlefinger also had his own intelligence network; those customs officials, tax officials, and other financial system personnel were happy to curry favor with their old superior. Littlefinger, who was both an enemy and a friend, fortunately, his ambition was not in King's Landing, so their conflict had not escalated.
Suddenly, a Child appeared from the shadows, pointed outside Varys's window, and then handed him a note. This was a boy dressed in tattered robes, with a pale face, no older than nine or ten, with a white face and black eyes. The Little Birds were nimble and skilled with daggers. These Little Birds had all had their tongues cut out, ensuring they could not speak.
Varys's Little Birds. To cope with the complex future, Varys had the fat governor send him fifty more.
"The mob will continue to petition The Red Keep tonight. Rumors are spreading in Flea Bottom that Rosby has been plundered," Varys took the note and rewarded the Little Bird with some candy.
Poor Little Birds. Although they appeared to be eight or nine years old, some were not so young, but had consumed a special drug similar to the Unsullied's wine of courage, which prevented these Children from growing up, while their lifespan would rapidly decrease, most not living very long. The only benefit, it must be said, was to ensure the agility and stealth of these Little Birds.
"This is? Another riot?" Varys looked out the window, the sound of footsteps growing denser. Then came the soaring flames and the clamor of voices.
Varys was also stunned. As expected of King's Landing, he didn't know who had spread the spark this time that reignited the emotions of the King's Landing mob. (Aside from holding tightly to The Red Keep, Varys had not sensed much of the two riots.)
A sea of ragged, starving people once again appeared near The Red Keep. This time their formation was larger, and the density of the crowd far exceeded the last time, a heavy human wall made of flesh and blood.
The dirty, disheveled populace looked at the taxi soldiers and guards on The Red Keep with hate-filled eyes.
The pale red city walls towered over the starving people, crowded with Crossbowmen who watched the hungry with predatory gazes.
"Bread, we want bread, King!" A poor mother rushed out of the crowd, shouting. Her arms were bone-thin, and she looked like she couldn't last much longer.
"Do I owe you bread?" King Joffrey yelled back.
Who knew that this sentence would infuriate the woman? A stone, snatched from who knew where, began to fly towards King Joffrey on the city wall.
The King's voice shattered the woman's last shred of sanity. Her previously vacant face twisted with disgust. "Bastard!" she shrieked, "The Kingslayer's Bastard! Incest!"
"Bastard!" Many voices also rose like a tide, and stones began to fly towards The Red Keep's battlements. Besides stones, there was even feces and torn clothing.
"Thud!" One stone even hit the King's red armor, and the King was furious.
"Who threw the stone that hit me? Hound, my Hound, I want you to kill them for me!" the King commanded.
The Hound thought for a moment, looked at the crowd below, and prepared to take up his longsword and rush down to charge into the crowd.
"Your Grace, that person may have already fled," a White Cloak gently reminded him. "There are thousands of them, and The Hound is just one man."
"No, I want to." Joffrey looked at the angry crowd. The Hound might really lose his life if he went down.
"Shoot arrows!" Joffrey yelled, then told The Hound, "Hound, wait a moment."
"Fuck you, Bastard!"
The Crossbowmen coldly pulled the triggers, and a merciless volley of arrows rained down below. Several foolish hungry people immediately fell.
The King's command was immediately drowned in a commotion, a thunder of anger, fear, and hatred rolling in from all directions, engulfing the King.
"Bastard!"
"Bastard! Beast!" The curses grew louder and louder. It was the roar of the starving, and if not for the sturdy city walls and the diligent Crossbowmen, The Red Keep would have looked like a ship in a stormy sea.
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