Chapter 68: Unlucky Jaqen
Tyrion's enthusiasm for this game was beyond imagination. When Egger woke from his dreams, dressed, and headed out to attend to business, he found that the Imp had already taken Morrec outside the city to find the young man making paper...
Of course, the Night's Watchman felt no shame for his late rising. He had been busy until the small hours of the morning; in terms of actual rest, he had probably slept two or three hours less than the dwarf.
At breakfast, he ran into Yoren, who had also risen late. His fellow "Wandering Crow" was mindlessly enjoying a life in King's Landing free from the constraints of superior officers. Thinking of the frantic pace of his own life lately, Egger couldn't help but envy the man.
"Yoren, a question for you." Egger sat in the inn's common room, gnawing on his breakfast, when a thought occurred to him. "A while back, didn't you go to the dungeons to confirm a few recruits?"
"That's right. What of it?" The Wandering Crow came over and sat opposite his colleague, ordering his own breakfast. "Unless there's no hope of release for a felony, few choose the path of taking the black."
"Was there a man among them named Jaqen H'ghar?"
"Seems there was a fellow by that name. How did you know?" Yoren was wearing the new black clothes Egger had bought him; he no longer carried that sour, rancid stench.
"Just heard whispers. Do you know how he ended up in the black cells?"
"Aye, I know. How can I recruit a man without asking after his past?" Yoren shrugged. "The two in the cell with him are both murderous lunatics—completely mad, they even gave me a fright. But this Jaqen is quite interesting. He was caught stealing books from the Royal Library."
"Stealing books?" Egger grew interested. This was a detail even he didn't know from the plot. What kind of book would require Braavos to dispatch a top-tier spy and assassin to steal? He harbored this doubt and pressed for more.
"How should I know? I can't read!"
Egger shook his head with a smile, having forgotten that point. But then another question arose: "A crime like stealing books shouldn't warrant being thrown into the black cells with murderers, surely?"
"Pah! Do you even know where the Royal Library is? It's right between the White Sword Tower of the Kingsguard and the Tower of the Hand—inside the Red Keep! That lad wasn't thrown into the black cells for 'theft,' but for 'trespassing in the King's residence with ill intent'!" Yoren said with a touch of schadenfreude. "The reason he was caught is actually quite funny. Apparently, he hid in a corner of the Red Keep's kitchens by day and snuck into the library at night to look for things. He'd been in the castle for days. But no one else had gone to borrow books that month, so a thin layer of dust had settled on the books and the floor, and he left footprints and handprints. The librarian responsible for cleaning noticed someone had been touching the books and reported it to the Kingsguard. It was just the fellow's bad luck—Barristan took note of it and went to check that very night with another Kingsguard. They cornered the library's only reader inside. The Royal Library has no windows... the poor devil had to surrender."
So that was it. Jaqen might be one of the world's most formidable assassins, but he certainly couldn't go toe-to-toe with two Kingsguard—one of whom was Barristan Selmy, widely considered the finest swordsman in Westeros. This meant Jaqen hadn't been caught on purpose; it was even less likely he was targeting the Night's Watch.
But what had he been looking for in the Royal Library for all those days?
...
The serving girl brought Yoren's breakfast. The old Wandering Crow made a move to pat the girl's backside, sending her screaming away in a fright. He grabbed a piece of bread, shoved it into his mouth, and added while chewing: "And here's the kicker: how long has it been since the previous Hand died? Even if it was from illness, isn't an unknown person who can sneak within a hundred feet of the Tower of the Hand suspicious? So, the unlucky bastard was sentenced to death as a sort of funeral offering for the late Hand."
"That's quite a coincidence."
"Quite a coincidence?" Yoren snorted, lowering his voice. "I think it's possible this fellow or his companions killed Jon Arryn. The man looks refined, like a Maester, yet those two man-eating lunatics in the same cell are terrified of him. Why do you think that is?"
"He's a good fighter, then."
"Likely more than just a good fighter... of course, it's all just guesswork, just idle chatter between us crows. Then again, even if he did kill the Hand, so what? In our history, the Night's Watch has taken in kingslayers."
Jaqen might have killed many people, but he was truly being framed this time. Egger found it amusing; even a powerful Faceless Man could be as unlucky as an ordinary person.
"You took the other two lunatics as well?"
"Aye, 'anyone willing to put on the black, no matter who they are, we won't turn them away,' the Lord Commander says."
"With lunatics like that, you have to worry they'll snap and kill their own brothers in black one day." Egger frowned—such tragedies weren't unheard of in the Watch's history; in fact, wouldn't Mormont eventually die at the hands of such men?
Yoren shrugged. "I just recruit 'em. The more I get, the better I've done my job. As for how to discipline and train them, that's the business of the Lord Commander and Alliser Thorne."
"Sigh..." Egger shook his head. While born of desperation, he truly couldn't agree with this recruitment philosophy.
"Don't sigh. Next time I come around, I'm counting on leading some reliable lads from your lot. Keep at it."
"I'll try."
After breakfast, and still curious about Jaqen's infiltration of the library, Egger arrived at the Night's Watch office as if starting a shift. So far, the storefront was still empty, so naturally, no customers had arrived. He, the Chief Logistics Officer, was still a "general without an army," and the drawbacks were beginning to show: he had to do everything personally. Dealing with one task was fine, but the moment a situation arose, he couldn't step away.
He wanted someone like Bronn with specialized skills, or a loyal squire like Podrick Payne. If he could find someone both loyal and capable, that would be ideal... but everything was just beginning. He couldn't rush it.
After posting two notices handwritten by Tyrion outside the office, his little apprentice arrived early for her lesson.
...
A Stark guard he didn't recognize escorted Arya. Today, the girl had her hair in a neat ponytail and wore a fitted dress that had clearly been made back in Winterfell. It wasn't stunning, but it was enough to make the preoccupied Egger give a knowing smile.
The girl really had taken his words to heart.
"Wait outside," Arya told the guard who accompanied her, then looked at her master with eager eyes. "I did as you said. When do we start?"
"Please, have a seat—does Lord Stark know Lady Arya is here?" Egger didn't answer the girl directly, instead politely asking the Winterfell guard. Upon receiving an affirmative nod, he looked back at his little pupil. "Very well, follow me."
The girl clutched a long object wrapped in cloth to her chest and followed the Watchman into the inner room with excitement.
The office had a small backyard, a few dozen square meters in size. For this location, it was quite a luxury. Egger had originally planned to plant some flowers and build a privy, but it seemed it could be put to other uses now.
Egger went to the corner and picked up the training swords. He turned to hand one to the girl, only to see her holding the slender rapier Jon had given her.
"A beautiful little sword. Like a needle."
"How did you know it's called Needle!" The girl's eyes lit up; she felt she had found a kindred spirit.
I even know who forged it and who gave it to you, Egger thought, offering a warm smile. "Very good. It seems we share the same aesthetic. Now, put Needle away."
"Can't I just practice with this?"
"This is a real sword. Do you want to kill me, or be killed by me?" The man shook his head. "Come now, didn't we agree you'd listen to your master?"
"But I snuck it out. If I take it back, my father might find it."
He won't confiscate it, Egger thought but didn't say. He was busy, and his plan required building a close rapport with the girl quickly. "You can leave it here. I'll keep it safe for you. When your skill is sufficient, perhaps we can spar with real steel."
"Oh..." Arya hesitated for a moment. "That sounds like a good idea! Then I won't have to worry about the Septa rummaging through my things anymore!"
"Then it's settled. Come, take the sword."
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