Chapter 158: A Night of Chaos (Part 3)
"Your life and safety in my hands? Let's not exaggerate. Tonight, you stay in this building and go nowhere. Call your men into this room to guard the door—those lads in black are decent enough, and I can't guarantee there isn't a single one of Slynt's men in this camp." Ser Jacelyn looked at Egger's shoulder. "Tend to that wound quickly. I'm going to send a message to Tyrion Lannister for you."
"A message? He's outside the city. Didn't you just say sending someone out at midnight is a capital offense?"
"He's at the Night's Watch industrial park; I know." Bywater stood up, took his helmet from the table, tucked it under his arm, and walked toward the door. "An event of this magnitude—your partner has to know. As for how to send it... sending a person out is a crime, but throwing something over the wall isn't against the law. I'll write a letter, tie it to a stone, and toss it down. A friend of mine living in the harbor outside the walls will pick it up and deliver it to the industrial park."
So that's how it's done. Bywater had been the Captain of the River Gate for a long time; it wasn't surprising he had such methods and connections. "Please tell Tyrion not to act on impulse. Tell him not to bring the security team into King's Landing to cause a scene. Don't let the situation escalate."
"Does he really need reminding?" Ironhand twisted his prosthetic, adjusting it to a comfortable position, and pulled open the office door. "Heh, I truly can't imagine the 'Imp' acting on impulse."
Then you'd be wrong, Egger thought with a bitter smile. Tyrion could indeed remain rational and calm most of the time, but deep down, that dwarf still had a fierce temper—his small stature simply rarely gave him the chance to show it. Just like this time: if he hadn't insisted on finishing Slynt within three days, and if they had used a milder, more secretive method to topple him, perhaps Egger wouldn't have been pushed into such peril.
Before being entangled in the layers of power, King's Landing had been a safe land of opportunity for an entrepreneur. But once caught in the Game of Thrones, the capital of the Seven Kingdoms became instantly fraught with danger.
Status, power, and influence were truly double-edged swords.
Janos Slynt had sent a man quietly into the Red Keep to report to Robert about the Queen's attempt to bribe him. He then sat in his office at the East Barracks for hours, only to receive the news that the assassination had failed. He trembled with rage. "A dozen men! Two crossbows! To kill one man! Not only did he escape, but several of yours were killed? Are your friends all pigs?"
Allar Deem lowered his head and whispered, "My lord, there were two of them... and according to the survivors, the Night's Watchman's bodyguard has terrifying skill."
"Terrifying my arse! Stop with the excuses. Losers always have a pile of justifications. Do you take me for a fool? Why don't you just say they use magic!" The Commander slammed the table. "Where is the man now? Did he hide at home?"
"According to reports... shortly after returning home, he led his men out and moved south. Because they had the numbers, my little brothers only dared follow from a distance, but they eventually lost them in Flea Bottom." As Slynt's frame shuddered, Allar shrank back and hurried to continue: "But a brother just came from the Mud Gate to report. He says the Watchman just entered the River Gate garrison."
"Wake the brothers. Grab the gear. We're going to the River Gate to demand him."
Allar looked up, surprised. "But my lord, didn't you say yourself that we shouldn't make any arbitrary mobilizations these two days?"
"Dolt! An illegal skirmish broke out at night in the most upscale residential area of King's Landing, leaving three dead and three wounded. With a case this big, is it 'arbitrary' to lead men to capture a murderer?" Slynt looked as if he wanted to slap the man. "Go now! Don't let him escape the city! Also, send messengers to the other barracks to call for more brothers. Jacelyn Bywater at the River Gate is an old rival of mine; that stiff-necked fool probably won't hand him over willingly... Damnit, if I'd known, I wouldn't have left this to you!"
...
All of King's Landing began to stir. A rare, massive force of Gold Cloaks from the East Barracks surged down Muddy Way toward the Mud Gate. Simultaneously, messengers on fast horses fanned out in all directions toward the seven gates and the three great hills, issuing mobilization orders to every City Watch detachment in the city.
Anyone with a source of information already knew the insider news that Slynt was about to fall, but at this moment, he was still the highest officer of the City Watch. He issued orders under the guise of assisting in the capture of a criminal, and on the surface at least, the Gold Cloaks still had to obey.
Thus, hundreds of Watchmen were called from their bunks, dressed, and led out of their camps by their officers toward the assembly point designated by the Commander: the River Gate.
While every garrison in the city was a hive of activity, their colleagues at the River Gate had already finished equipping themselves under their captain's urgent orders. They closed the garrison gates, threw the bolts, and prepared to hold firm for the night.
...
It had been roughly nine or ten at night—what they call the Hour of the Eel in Westeros—when Egger was ambushed. After all the chaos, midnight had passed, and it was now the Hour of the Owl in the early morning. A large force of fully armed Gold Cloaks, stretching out like a fiery dragon of torches, arrived outside the River Gate garrison and surrounded it.
A soldier jumped down from the scaffolding near the wall and ran to report to Ironhand. "Ser Jacelyn, Lord Slynt is outside claiming there is a murderer who committed a bloody crime in our camp. He demands we hand him over to the East Barracks for interrogation."
"How many have they brought?"
"About a hundred, I'd say."
Bywater gave a contemptuous snort. "Ignore him. Get the reliable brothers to guard both gates well. We'll talk when more of them arrive."
King's Landing is a sprawling city, and the River Gate is at its southernmost tip, not the center. This meant the travel time for the various garrisons to reach the scene varied greatly. Those nearby arrived in ten minutes; those further away, like the Gate of the Gods or the Dragon Gate, were several leagues distant. Minutes turned to hours as groups of ten to dozens of Watchmen arrived on foot or horseback, torches held high, gradually merging into the force surrounding the camp.
When the number of soldiers outside the River Gate garrison exceeded four hundred, Slynt sent a man to shout a final ultimatum: if Jacelyn Bywater did not hand over the criminal, they would launch an assault to take him by force.
Sensing the timing was right, Jacelyn Bywater raised a torch and climbed onto the courtyard wall, appearing in the sight of his surrounding colleagues.
...
"Brothers!" Standing on the high platform and looking down at the hundreds of soldiers, Ironhand spoke. "In the middle of the night, when you should be tucked in bed, a bit of trouble here has forced you to rush out in the dark. I truly feel for you. But regarding tonight's matter, I simply cannot yield!"
The soldiers below looked at one another. Those on night shift looked indifferent—it was all the same staying up late—but those who had been woken from their rest were weary. That was, until the River Gate captain's next sentence snapped them to attention.
"I want to ask the brothers standing here: how many of you actually receive your full wages?"
At the mention of money, everyone perked up. In the City Watch, any officer promoted by Slynt had to kick back half his salary to him. While it wasn't as extreme for common soldiers, at least twenty to thirty percent was usually skimmed off. If your immediate superior was strong and had a background, less was taken; otherwise, you just had to accept your bad luck. This was the Gold Cloak Rule, an open secret. Everyone knew it, but no one dared bring it up publicly. Those who made an issue of it were either fired or ended up dead... What was wrong with Ser Ironhand tonight?
"Jacelyn Bywater!" Slynt didn't dare let him continue. He stepped forward and shouted to interrupt the captain on the wall. "Not long ago, a man was caught in a street fight with swords between the Iron Gate and the Dragonpit, leaving three dead and three wounded! We have evidence he is in your camp. Hand him over now and stop with these irrelevant distractions!"
"Does everyone remember Herbert and Ben?" Ironhand ignored Slynt entirely, continuing to speak for himself, using his booming voice to drown out his Commander. "Last year, when Hand Jon Arryn was investigating a certain officer for selling positions, embezzlement, and skimming wages, he found these two brothers to testify. But two days after word leaked, one of them tripped on his way home and cracked his head on a stone, and the other fell into a ditch and drowned! Do you lot believe in such coincidences?"
Is Ironhand mad, talking about this in front of so many people? A chill ran down Slynt's spine. He roared, "Those were accidents! The cases were closed long ago! Jacelyn Bywater, stop speaking nonsense to change the subject! If you don't open the gates and hand over the prisoner, I will order my men to break them down! Prepare!"
"Two soldiers of the Watch died mysteriously, and to this day there has been no justice." Bywater made a subtle gesture to the loyal soldiers behind him. He continued shouting to the rest of the Gold Cloaks outside: "And today, another brave soul willing to testify against our Commander has appeared, filing a report in his own name to Hand Eddard. That man is inside the garrison behind me! And our accused Commander is currently fabricating lies without limit, trying to force me to open the gate and hand him over!"
...
"Whoa... is that true?"
"No wonder they dragged us out here in the middle of the night for this."
"This is too arrogant. What do they take us for?"
Amidst the uproar and whispering of the countless Watchmen, Slynt realized he had fallen into a trap. He was now riding a tiger and had no choice but to be desperate to the end. "Enough talk! Go! Set fire to the gates! Burn them open!"
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