Chapter 159: The Darkness Before Dawn
The City Watch possessed only fixed defensive artillery mounted atop the walls; they had no portable siege equipment. In his haste, the only solution Slynt could devise was the crude method of fire. A dozen soldiers from the East Barracks were ordered forward. They clutched wooden oil drums and torches, jogging toward the main gates of the River Gate garrison.
"Loose!" Standing atop the wall, Ser Jacelyn Bywater waved his left arm without hesitation. Dozens of men appeared along the battlements. To the melodic twang of bowstrings, they unleashed a rain of arrows onto the ground outside the barracks. The shafts hissed down toward the soldiers carrying the oil. They traced short parabolas before clattering into the earth just meters in front of the attackers. Some thudded into the ground, their fletching vibrating violently; others ricocheted off the cobblestones. One arrow even struck an oil drum held by a Gold Cloak. The muffled thump of the impact so startled the man that he dropped the barrel. The wood split, and dark fuel spilled across the street. Fortunately, it was not wildfire.
Gasps and cries erupted from the assembled Watchmen and the citizens of King's Landing, who were watching the spectacle from the nearby streets or peering cautiously through windows. Everyone saw that Jacelyn Bywater was playing for keeps. The first wave of arsonists was repelled instantly, bolting back into the crowd. Every Gold Cloak holding a torch reflexively retreated several paces. Even the East Barracks men loyal to Slynt failed to show much bravery in the face of lethal force.
The space before the River Gate was limited; no matter how far they retreated, they remained within bowshot. Fortunately, the River Gate defenders had no true intent to maim. Once they had forced their colleagues to retreat, they ceased their attack.
"Bastards! Loose! Fire back!" Stung by this blatant defiance, Slynt's rage boiled over. He shrieked, "Shoot that traitor down!"
The officers were forced to obey. Consequently, the besieging side loosed a ragged volley of arrows. Most thudded into the barracks walls or sailed high over the defenders' heads into the surrounding darkness. To keep the peace, they also ensured no one was actually harmed.
Bywater crouched low, raising his iron hand to shield his face, and delivered the final blow of his oration: "There is no need for further guessing! Janos Slynt, the man I spoke of is you! If you have a clean conscience, then wait patiently until dawn. I will send the suspect you seek directly to the Hand of the King. Whether he is a criminal or a whistleblower being hunted and persecuted will be decided then!"
"In your dreams!" Slynt howled. It was one thing to hesitate before acting, but now that the mask had been torn away, it was a fight to the death. "Hear my command! Fetch ladders! Attack from all sides at once! Take that traitor!"
Was a battle truly beginning? In the night, the mass of torch-bearing Gold Cloaks stirred restlessly, but as they looked around, no one obeyed. Ser Jacelyn had done today what no one else dared; the men were too busy enjoying the show to risk their lives for Slynt by fighting their own brothers in gold.
"What are you doing? Do you intend to defy orders!" Slynt attempted to use the authority of the Commander to force compliance. "Where are the battalion officers? Step forward and organize the assault!"
"Lord Slynt, we all believe in your character, and Ser Jacelyn has surely been misled by rumors," the Captain of the Gate of the Gods stepped forward, being the first to speak. "But the River Gate is surrounded so tightly not even a rat could squeeze out. The man you want cannot escape. Why sacrifice the lives of our brothers? Dawn is but a short while away. Let us wait and see how the Hand judges this murderer then."
"Aye, my lord. We hold for a bit longer until dawn. Once the King's men from the Red Keep arrive, Ser Jacelyn will have no reason to protect the criminal!"
Seeing his rival's proposal gain the support of several officers, and his numerical advantage evaporating into thin air, Slynt realized the tide had turned. He looked at the sea of black-clad Watchmen surrounding him—men who would not serve his will—and knew that force was no longer an option. He ground his teeth and conceded. "Fine! Then block every entrance. Do not let the criminal escape!"
Having issued the order, Slynt snapped his cloak and strode toward the cluster of East Barracks soldiers. Once clear of the crowd, he whispered to his confidant, Allar Deem: "Have our own brothers ready. The moment that Night's Watchman shows his face at dawn, riddle him with arrows. Do not fail me this time!"
"But my lord, if we hit the River Gate brothers..."
"I will answer for it!"
...
I will answer for it. Those words were spoken with iron conviction, but the man who said them was beginning to feel a gnawing dread. For the first time in over a decade, Slynt began to regret his actions.
Perhaps he should never have pursued that female employee of the Night's Watch industries, but admiring beauty was hardly a crime. His mistake lay in refusing to let go after being rebuffed—he should have known that if the other side was bold enough to protect their own, they had the capital to back it up.
As expected, his opponent had immediately contacted various allies to strike back. Partners bound by profit were the sturdiest of allies, and the Night's Watch industries had moved to destroy him completely. Even then, he'd had a chance to make amends: he could have informed Robert of Cersei's treasonous plans and acted as a loyal vanguard when the King moved against the Lannisters. Even if Eddard investigated him later, his service would have balanced his sins, sparing him from severe punishment.
But yesterday, in a moment of excitement, he had perversely decided to eliminate his rival in one stroke—and he had entrusted the task to the wrong man. A series of blunders had led to a total disaster, resulting in this current stalemate. He could not reach the Watchman hiding inside the River Gate barracks, yet he could not admit defeat and retreat. He was stuck.
If he hadn't been so greedy, if he had more prestige and control over the Watch, he could have solved this with violence: storm the River Gate, kill the Watchman and Ironhand Bywater, and then frame them as Lannister conspirators.
But now, having hesitated and allowed Bywater to finish his speech, it was too late for that. With Bywater exposing his past in public and destroying what little credibility he had left, he, as Commander, was powerless to lead a charge. Through one bad decision after another, he had played this game to its worst possible conclusion.
He had no way to frame a living Jacelyn Bywater for treason. And that cursed Crow seemed to have too many friends and too many tricks. If he didn't die today, the retaliation from the Night's Watch industries would be relentless. There was no retreat! His only hope was to kill the man and pray that the chaos about to unfold in the Red Keep would be large enough to overshadow this farce.
The man he had sent to inform Robert had returned with the King's secret command: tomorrow... no, today at noon, he was to bring two hundred absolutely reliable elite Watchmen to stand by outside the Red Keep. It was a clear hint to move. He couldn't waste time here. The moment dawn broke and that Crow stepped out, he would kill him at any cost, then lead his troops to the Red Keep to await the King's pleasure. This time... he would do exactly as told, and nothing more!
Inside the River Gate barracks, Egger watched the spectacle through the window.
He couldn't see Slynt's movements outside the walls, but from the relaxed demeanor of the River Gate soldiers standing behind the gate, he knew Ser Jacelyn's judgment was correct. Tonight, he was safe.
Relief washed over him, but a sharp sting flared in his shoulder. He hissed through his teeth. "Sss—"
"I'm sorry, my lord!" Nina stopped immediately. "Did I hurt you?"
He had fled for his life without a moment's rest, the untreated wound bleeding the entire way. The blood had soaked into his black tunic, drying into a stiff, hard crust that had to be cut away with scissors to reach the injury. Looking at how her "admirer" had brought trouble to her idol, nearly costing Egger his life... even though she had done nothing, things had spiraled out of control. After cleaning the wound and seeing a basin of bloody water, the girl was on the verge of a breakdown.
"It's nothing," Egger said, gritting his teeth. "You didn't hurt me. It would be strange if the wound didn't hurt. Continue."
The sharp metal tip of the bolt had easily sliced through skin and muscle, leaving a gash nearly ten centimeters long that almost bared the bone at its deepest point. While not a mortal wound, it severely hindered his movement. As a right-handed man, escaping the encirclement with a sword while his right shoulder was mangled was a feat. But without Jaqen's timely kick, the bolt would likely have been buried in his back—whether through his heart or his lungs, he couldn't say. In either case, he would be dead.
To say he wasn't afraid in hindsight would be a lie. But facing the tearful, guilt-ridden, and terrified Nina, he had to maintain a tough front. "Stop overthinking. I've told you many times it wasn't your fault. Apply the medicine, then stitch it up."
"Oh... like sewing cloth?"
"Yes. If you don't dare, have Ser Jacelyn find someone who can."
Born into a family that survived on weaving and tailoring, needlework wasn't difficult for her. Trembling, she finished treating the wound, then waited helplessly for Egger's next command.
"You're done. Go next door and find a place to rest for a bit."
"I... I can't sleep."
"Close your eyes anyway. Don't just stand here. Go on."
"My lord... when dawn comes, what do you plan to do?"
"What can I do? Wait here. Slynt's bloodlust likely hasn't cooled. I'm still in danger if I show my face. Until someone from the King or the Hand appears, I'm not setting foot outside this door."
After half a night spent fleeing and then watching the internal strife of the City Watch, sleep was the furthest thing from his mind. Outside the window, the sky had reached the darkest hour before the dawn. This was the absurd and cruel world of the Game of Thrones. Play stupid games, win stupid deaths—but even if you played it safe, you weren't necessarily secure. This night of chaos was finally coming to an end. It felt wonderful to be alive, but once the sun rose, what direction would things take?
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