Chapter 44: The Start of Southern Life
Before transmigrating, Egger followed a specific principle at work: never be sloppy or negligent with his own responsibilities, but never volunteer for tasks outside his remit. He certainly did not accept any arrangements—overtime included—that encroached upon his rest or leisure time. The reason was simple: his comfortable family background, broad horizons, and extensive social circle provided him with information and income streams that far exceeded those of the average person.
He worked merely to keep himself occupied and prevent himself from becoming a shut-in; he wasn't doing it for the salary. The money he made from gaming and trading stocks dwarfed his wages. Who had the energy for office politics or performing hard work just to win a boss's favor?
But now, the situation was different. Egger's superiors in the Night's Watch didn't pay him a salary, but they held the power of life and death over him. If he provoked them, they needed only to recall him to the Wall and send him on a ranging beyond the Wall—or simply declare him a deserter. Even if he survived, he would lose a layer of skin in the process.
Driven by this invisible sense of crisis, Egger decided to start working immediately, despite being exhausted in mind and body.
Tyrion had already announced his intention to rest. As for this benefactor and noble savior sent by fate, Egger naturally had to treat him with care. He decided to skip the first item on his list for now and handle a step crucial to his subsequent work—meeting the only Northerner on the Small Council to ask for something Tyrion absolutely could not provide.
Knock, knock, knock. Egger rapped on the door of the neighboring room.
Yoren opened it. Unaccustomed to the heat of King's Landing, he had already taken a dip in the inn's bathhouse while Egger was drafting his plans. He was currently wearing nothing but a pair of breeches. "What is it?"
"I'm going to see the Hand now. Do you want to come with me?"
"Now? No rest?"
Yoren had brought travel funds with him, yet the little Lannister had covered all their room and board along the way. The money in his pocket remained untouched; it would be a waste to go back early without spending it, so he was in no hurry.
"A man named Stark is running the kingdom as Hand. There will never be a more favorable time for the Night's Watch to get things done. I have much work to do and dare not delay even half a day. If you don't want to come now, you'll have to find him alone in a few days. Lord Eddard respects the Watch, but it might not be wise to trouble him repeatedly."
"Sigh... fine, then. Let's go." Though Yoren was getting on in years, he was still sturdy. The trek south hadn't broken him. "Let me put some clothes on."
...
The temperature difference between King's Landing and the Wall was a staggering fifty or sixty degrees—two extremes of positive and negative. Putting on clothes essentially meant pulling a rough black tunic over his head and donning a pair of trousers of the same color. Even so, it was enough to make the two Night's Watchmen break into a profuse sweat.
Leading their still-saddled horses from the stables, they began their approach toward the Red Keep.
The way was easy to find; they didn't even need to ask. The royal fortress sat atop Aegon's High Hill in the southeast corner of the city, significantly higher than anywhere else in King's Landing, including Visenya's Hill and Rhaenys's Hill. From any spot not obstructed by buildings, one could glance east and see its towers and curtain walls rising above the hillside like the high dwellings of the gods.
Aegon the Conqueror knew how to pick a spot; the Red Keep truly looked like a ruler's residence.
After traveling a distance, Egger slowed down.
"What's wrong?"
"Before we see the Hand, we should tidy ourselves up."
Yoren shook his head, using the tone of an elder lecturing a junior. "Believe me, Egger, the Hand won't give us more men or wagons of supplies just because we groomed ourselves."
Eddard Stark might not care about the appearance of the Crows who came to see him, but the people and nobles along the way—and those within the Red Keep—would. Although he planned to ignore the improve the image task in his formal records, Egger could not stand having such a filthy colleague by his side.
Explaining the importance of first impressions or the long-term impact of improving the organization's overall image to a rough man like Yoren was a lost cause. Egger chose a more direct and effective argument.
"You're keeping that massive beard and wearing those greasy black rags... don't you feel the heat?"
"Uh... I've lived this way for years. I'm used to it."
"Don't worry. I'll cover the expenses."
The bag Robb had pressed into Egger's hand contained one gold dragon and ninety silver stags. A gold dragon could be exchanged for 210 silver stags. In this world of extremely low productivity, that was a considerable fortune. He couldn't be extravagant, but for daily expenses, it would last him over a dozen months.
The Night's Watch currently had no source of income, so despite being relatively flush with cash, Egger intentionally waited until they were away from the wealthy district before looking for the shops he needed.
He first led Yoren into a barber shop, where he had the owner cut their hair short, shave their beards, and wash their heads. Their appearance became instantly crisp and clean.
After paying one silver stag and receiving a few copper stars in change, Egger quickly ducked into a clothing shop.
"Two sets of light, breathable black tunics," he said. "Pure black is best. If that's not possible, make sure there are no conspicuous bright patterns or decorations."
"Pure black?" A look of sympathetic sorrow immediately washed over the shopkeeper's face. "My apologies. Might I ask which of your family members has passed?"
"No one has passed. We are of the Night's Watch."
"The Night's Watch?"
"What, do you pick and choose your customers?" Egger frowned impatiently, patting his pocket. "We will pay!"
"No, no... I meant nothing by it. It's just rare to serve buyers from the Wall." Remembering that harmony brings wealth, the shopkeeper quickly swapped his shock for a fawning smile. "Please wait a moment, I shall see what I can find."
Egger waited for quite a while, but he maintained his patience.
According to Westerosi custom, pure black clothing was generally only worn as mourning attire. Why would a standard clothing shop stock much of it? One of Egger's long-term goals was to leave the Watch; he swore no one on earth wanted to wear other colors more than he did... but as a newcomer with no foundation, he didn't want to give anyone a reason to find fault with him.
Furthermore, he was about to see Eddard Stark, a stubborn Northerner. To deal with such a character, the best disguise was undoubtedly a loyal Night's Watch soldier who cared for nothing but the Watch.
After much effort, the owner finally pulled two nearly-pure-black robes from a corner. At Egger's request, the owner sewed over some white piping on the spot. They settled the deal at two silver stags per piece. Not only that, but Egger pre-ordered several other styles of pure black clothing to have a rotation for washing.
At the Wall, he was limited by circumstances, but having left Castle Black, he never wanted to endure wearing the same garment for months on end ever again.
Donning their new clothes and new looks, the two refreshed Night's Watchmen remounted. Looking at Yoren, who seemed like a completely different person, Egger smiled helplessly: the task of improving the image, which he had crossed off his list, had ironically become the first one he actually started.
...
They rode to the entrance of the Red Keep. After some explanation to the Gold Cloaks guarding the gate and waiting for their message to be relayed, they were permitted entry. They were guided to the Tower of the Hand.
From there, all the guards were from Winterfell. Familiar with and respecting the Night's Watch, they offered no resistance. The two soon saw the new Hand—Eddard Stark, whom Egger had last seen two months ago.
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