Chapter 149: A Mighty Patron?
"Father told me that I must let him know every day when I return to the Red Keep after sword practice. So, when I got home yesterday, I went looking for him, and I could hear King Robert's booming voice from a mile away. When I got closer, I heard them talking about Varys... you know, the Master of Whispers. My father seemed to be questioning 'which side this eunuch is truly on,'" Arya recalled, trying hard to remember. "I pushed the door open to greet Father, and he told me to leave. A little later, at the dinner table... ah, I remember now! They seemed to mention summoning that Slynt fellow!"
"Summoning him for what?"
"How should I know? After dinner, Father sent me to my room. There are always guards outside his chambers; I can't exactly press my ear to the door to eavesdrop."
Tsk. Egger knit his brows. The information Arya provided seemed crucial, yet upon reflection, it lacked a clear point. The King summoning the commander of King's Landing's armed forces could be for any number of reasons. Even if it were related to the rumors, without hearing the key parts of the conversation, who could know if Robert was preparing to move against the Lannisters or simply inquiring about the investigation into the rumors and the capture of those spreading them?
Since King's Landing had remained peaceful from last night through this morning, it suggested they weren't facing the former scenario. But to assume all was well simply because Robert hadn't immediately struck at House Lannister...
Tyrion hadn't returned yet, but Egger already had a faint premonition. Slynt, fresh from a personal audience with the King, was unlikely to show respect to a stray Lannister who possessed a surname but held neither office nor power.
"I'll go get Kon and have him continue your practice."
"I'm done practicing. Let's wait for Tyrion to come back together." Arya tossed her wooden sword aside and followed him. "I want to see how a big villain gets finished off... no, I must take part!"
The citizens of King's Landing might not recognize the Imp, but the soldiers of the City Watch—the city's garrison and peacekeepers—certainly did. Relying on his unmistakable appearance, Tyrion led Morrec through the gates of the East Barracks with ease. Guided by the Gold Cloaks along the way, they found the Commander's office.
Smoothing his expression, Tyrion pushed the door open with a merchant's slick smile.
"Lord Slynt, it's been a long time. How have you been faring lately?"
"Not well at all. A mountain of work and not enough time to breathe." Slynt looked slightly surprised by the visit but remained sprawled behind his desk—making no move to stand, nor offering his guest a seat. "Ser Tyrion, what brings a busy man like you to the City Watch?"
"Ah, well, it seems there's been a bit of a misunderstanding lately between the Night's Watch office and the City Watch." Tyrion wasn't just short; his legs were slightly deformed, and he couldn't stand for long. Despite the host not speaking, he made himself at home and pulled up a chair to sit. "As a manager, I felt I had to step in and clear things up."
"Oh?" Slynt let out a dry, mocking snort. "A misunderstanding? What misunderstanding? I haven't heard of any."
"This morning, a squad of City Watch soldiers rushed into the paper mill I manage outside the city, claiming to search for contraband. What was that all about?"
"Ah, that. Well, we received a report claiming someone was raising a private army and stockpiling weapons and grain by the Blackwater outside the King's Gate. King's Landing is the capital of the Seven Kingdoms, after all. Such bold behavior is something I, as Commander of the Watch, must take to heart."
"Lord Slynt, those supplies and weapons are the war material of the Night's Watch, destined for the Wall at any moment. And the so-called 'private army' consists of factory and warehouse guards, along with new recruits in training. Lord Eddard, the Hand, is fully aware of these circumstances and has signed the permits. To go and investigate for those reasons—isn't that exactly what a misunderstanding is?"
"Hoh, then it truly is a misunderstanding. But you can't blame the brothers under me; it's your fault for not giving us a proper heads-up earlier. I don't run the Night's Watch industries; who could possibly know the details?" Slynt crossed his legs. "Of course, since Lord Tyrion has come personally to explain, I am now aware of the situation. If we disturbed your men's work, I offer my apologies. However, if we receive further reports in the future, we will still deploy for routine investigations. I trust Lord Tyrion understands—duty calls, and I must answer."
"Indeed. Our previous misunderstanding was due to our own lack of foresight, causing trouble for the brothers of the Watch. I hope Commander Slynt can forgive us." Tyrion already felt something was wrong; few people dared to speak to him with such snide arrogance. Suppressing his irritation, he continued, "The current managers of the Night's Watch industries in the city are Egger West and my apprentice, Nina. Between this man and woman—one was a soldier at the Wall, a rough sort; the other was born a commoner and hasn't seen much of the world. Neither knows the rules well. Therefore, problems inevitably crop up from time to time. I apologize on their behalf. A man of your stature and greatness, Commander Slynt, surely has the heart to tolerate these two youngsters."
"Think nothing of it. It is all for King Robert. As long as they remain honest and obey the many laws set by His Majesty, would I ever go looking for trouble?"
...
Aren't you looking for trouble right now?
Tyrion couldn't stand another moment of this greasy man's sarcastic dodging. He pulled out the prepared bond for a hundred Gold Dragons and placed it on the desk. "Then I shall trouble you, Lord Commander. Please take this small token of appreciation; consider it a reward for the hard work of your brothers who have been running back and forth."
Slynt glanced down at the slip of paper, and his expression shifted. "What is the meaning of this? Do you think a pittance like this can buy the loyalty of the Commander of the City Watch?"
"No, there is no other meaning. We all know your loyalty to King Robert cannot be measured by material goods. This is simply an apology for the offense my two young friends caused. Please accept it, Lord Slynt, or I shan't be able to sleep tonight."
"If you can't sleep, then get more rest. Why should Lord Tyrion, with those two short legs of his, tire himself out standing up for the mistakes of others?" Slynt gave a contemptuous laugh. "It's not that I won't give you face, but whoever caused the trouble should be the one to solve it. Lord Tyrion, please leave. Send your precious apprentice to talk! A young girl with such grand airs—I can't even get her to come when I invite her?"
Who do you think you are, daring to set your sights on my apprentice?
In the past, Tyrion would have surely let fly a string of curses. As a dwarf, he undoubtedly possessed a foul mouth perfectly suited for bringing him trouble and danger; had he not been born to a powerful father, he would have been dead long ago.
But managing the Night's Watch industries had benefited him greatly. Not only did it give his mind and talents a place to shine, but as a merchant, he had gradually begun to master the lesson that trouble comes from the mouth and the art of restrained speech.
His cheek muscles twitched as Tyrion suppressed the urge to scream insults and threats. He sighed and took back the paper. "In that case, I shall relay Commander Slynt's meaning to the two youngsters at home and let them decide for themselves."
"That is well," Slynt smiled triumphantly. "I won't see you out."
The City Watch headquarters was only a road away from the Night's Watch office, so Tyrion didn't keep Egger and Arya waiting long. Just as Egger expected, Tyrion slammed the bond onto the table—the massive sum of a hundred Gold Dragons had actually been rejected.
"He didn't take it!" Arya looked delighted instead. "Then we can discuss how to kill him now!"
"Do you enjoy 'killing' people that much?" Tyrion shot the girl a look, his expression unnatural. "Strange. As far as I know, isn't this Slynt from common birth? How can he be so arrogant? You didn't hear the way he mocked me. Have you investigated his background?"
"Lord Egger ordered me to collect information. I gathered quite a bit from the people who used to work in Littlefinger's brothels," Nina reported. "Slynt is indeed of common birth; his father was a butcher. By some twist of fate, Robert appointed him Commander of the City Watch. After a short period of behaving himself, he began to run wild. Because he went too far, Jon Arryn intended to dismiss him while he was still alive, but King Robert said—'Better the man whose corruption is open than the one who hides it; the next might be worse.' So, Slynt kept his position and grew even bolder after the former Hand died."
...
Better the man whose corruption is open than the one who hides it? Only a fool like Robert could come up with such a ridiculous theory. When it comes to wrongdoing, the social impact of blatant corruption is a thousand times worse than that done in secret. Aside from the objective damage to the state, it severely poisons social morals and the stability of the regime—two harms that are nearly impossible to mend and are enough to topple a dynasty.
Robert couldn't possibly fail to understand such a simple truth, but clearly, he had severely underestimated the negative impact Slynt could have on the Iron Throne. Rather than replace him with an unfamiliar commander, he chose to tolerate the illegal acts of the man he had personally appointed.
"Is a loyal Commander of the Watch that hard to find? Why would a king tolerate such a subordinate?"
"Because he's useful. The King knows exactly what kind of man he is, but finds him a convenient tool and doesn't want to change him," Nina explained. "Before the former Master of Coin fled, he told the people in his brothels, 'Janos Slynt has no talent whatsoever; his only merit is being obedient. Even if Robert told him to go home and hang his own mother, the man would scurry back and do it.' That is why he won Robert's favor and has sat securely as Commander for years."
"Simply put, he's a heartless executioner who only knows how to follow orders. His father was a butcher; in a way, Slynt followed the family trade after all," Tyrion realized. "I see. His confidence comes from the fact that his patron is the King! No wonder he's arrogant enough to fear no one. Speaking of which, that patron is indeed solid enough; an ordinary person couldn't touch him."
"With two thousand Gold Cloaks in his hand and the King as his backer, this fellow is harder to deal with than imagined."
"But now that we've figured out his foundation, can't we just find a targeted solution?" Tyrion gave a cold smile. "The King can't be relied upon, but fortunately, don't we have a new Hand who hates evil with a passion? If Eddard Stark gets his hands on evidence of his misconduct, I doubt he'll care what Robert has to say."
Arya puffed out her small chest proudly. "That's for sure! My father even dares to argue with the King!"
...
"Fuck him. He's just one of Robert's dogs, and he dares to be this arrogant," Tyrion took a deep breath, cursing to vent his frustration. "'Why should the little dwarf tire himself out standing up for the mistakes of others?' If I don't bring him down within three days, I'll write the name Lannister backward!"
"Yeah!!" Arya seemed to love hearing Tyrion curse; she was so excited she could barely stay in her chair. "Then let's start discussing how to finish him off now!"
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