Game of Thrones: Knight's Honor-Chapter 342: Move and Countermove

Stannis's assault on King's Landing didn't slow just because more eyes were watching.

After five days of standoff, he had rebuilt a new batch of siege engines. Though not as finely crafted as the original ones, they were functional.

Eager to act, Stannis gave the order to attack the Iron Gate without further delay.

The Iron Gate lay on the eastern side of King's Landing, right next to Blackwater Bay. Inside the walls were Flea Bottom, the Dragonpit, and the slums. Across the road, behind high walls, stood the estates of the capital's nobility.

By terrain alone, this location was ill-suited for either attacking or defending.

On the attacking side, space outside the Iron Gate was cramped—just a narrow clearing bordered by cliffs and the bay. There was no room to deploy in full strength. On the defending side, the interior was packed with shanties and alleyways, full of obstructions that made troop movement just as difficult. On top of that, the Iron Gate's walls were shorter than those at other gates, making them easier to scale.

But attacking here gave Stannis one clear advantage—his fleet in Blackwater Bay. The ships' ballistae and trebuchets could fire over the high walls to assist the assault from the sea.

Before launching the real attack, Stannis used a bit of misdirection. He gathered a large number of civilians outside the city and disguised them as soldiers, assembling them near the Old Gate to make it appear that was his intended target.

Meanwhile, his real army had quietly moved through the nearby forest and positioned itself outside the Iron Gate, lying in wait. Once the order was given, they struck, catching the Gold Cloaks and newly recruited garrison completely off guard.

Stannis's forces even managed to seize the walls briefly. But Sandor Clegane—the Hound—arrived just in time with the Kingsguard and a company of defenders to drive them back down.

At the Old Gate, Tyrion saw through the ruse. Realizing the army outside was merely a decoy, he didn't send Addam Marbrand and the main Gold Cloaks to support the Iron Gate. Instead, he dispatched the Hound with the newer troops, and ordered Addam to ride out and crush the decoys as if they were real soldiers.

In the ensuing clash between fake and real forces, Addam Marbrand easily routed the impostors, killing Rolder Storm, who had been commanding them. Riding the momentum, Addam tried to strike at Stannis's rear encampment, but Ser Guyard Morrigen anticipated the move and ambushed him inside the camp.

After losing over two thousand men, Addam Marbrand retreated with the survivors to King's Landing. However, Tyrion ordered them to return as if they had won a major victory. He hoisted a captured royal standard from Stannis's camp onto a long spear and paraded it through the streets, making it seem as though the camp had fallen. Combined with the earlier rout of the decoy army, this created the illusion that Stannis's forces were faltering—and morale within the city soared.

Capitalizing on the moment, Tyrion raised the pay for defenders and ramped up recruitment. Many believed the battle was already swinging in their favor, that victory was within reach, and there'd be plunder to claim—so they signed up in droves. In a short time, the number of new recruits in the garrison swelled to over ten thousand.

But despite their numbers, these fresh defenders—much like the decoy army before them—had little combat value. They were little more than fodder, sent to the walls to slow the enemy and absorb casualties.

Even so, maintaining such numbers was costly. With the royal treasury empty, Tyrion needed another source of funds—namely, his sister.

...

"You filthy idiots! Get out of here! This is no place for you!" Cersei shouted, blocking the entrance to her chambers as Bronn barged in with a dozen sellswords trailing behind him.

"My dear sister, of course we'll leave—once we've been paid," Tyrion said, stepping through the crowd to stand before her. "We need to hire a lot more hands to bolster the garrison, but the treasury's empty. And I happen to know you've got a stash..."

"Absolutely not!" Cersei snapped. "That's what I've saved up over the years—"

"Cersei," Tyrion interrupted, his tone turning serious, "you still don't understand. Right now, our top priority is defending King's Landing and defeating Stannis. If he breaks into the city, that treasure of yours will be his. Better we use it now to recruit the army we need." He held out his hands and gestured to his clothes. "Look—I've pawned everything of value I own. Right now, everything must serve the defense of this city."

Cersei stared at him, her face twisted with hatred. But at last, she took a step back, slumped into her chair, and said bitterly, "Fine. Take it. Take it all."

Tyrion gave a subtle nod, and the soldiers immediately moved in. They went to her wardrobe and retrieved a chest filled with gold, silver, and jewels, then carried it out of the queen's chamber.

As Tyrion was leaving, he suddenly said, "Oh, one more thing—if Joffrey were to make an appearance on the city walls, it could give our morale a significant boost..."

"Get out! Get out of here!" Cersei screamed, snatching up a fruit knife from the table and waving it at him. "Say one more word, and I'll drive this knife straight through your throat!"

Tyrion knew better than to push her further. He turned and scampered away on his short legs.

As they reached the Tower of the Hand, Bronn glanced over and asked, puzzled, "Didn't you leave all your jewels and valuables with Shae?"

Tyrion shrugged. "I said I took out everything of value. I didn't say I used it all on the war effort. Giving it to my woman still counts as taking it out, doesn't it?"

Bronn raised an eyebrow, ready to toss a jab his way, when he suddenly spotted thick smoke rising in the distance, from deep within the city.

Tyrion saw it too and froze. His first thought was that Stannis's forces had broken through the gates—but the smoke wasn't coming from the walls. It was rising from the heart of the city, near the Great Sept of Baelor.

Tyrion quickly ran through a mental map of the area and pinpointed the location. His face went pale.

"Damn it. The granaries. The granaries are on fire. Stannis wasn't just attacking the walls—he was covering for someone inside the city."

And just as Tyrion had guessed, Stannis—well-versed in King's Landing's defenses—knew that even the Iron Gate wouldn't fall easily. His real aim all along had been to distract Tyrion and the others, giving his agents within the city a chance to destroy the food supplies.

Already strained by the war, King's Landing had seen a flood of refugees, putting even more pressure on food stores. The city relied mainly on grain from the Riverlands and the Crownlands, but with war ravaging both, production had either dropped sharply or ceased altogether.

Tyrion had managed to secure a shipment of grain from Tumbleton after returning to the capital, rushing it in along the Blackwater. But even that wasn't enough for the whole city. With strict rationing, it might have lasted a month or two.

Now, a fire had consumed the granaries. Although the Septons from the Great Sept of Baelor and nearby City Watch patrols managed to extinguish the blaze in time, nearly half the grain was lost.

Worse still, Stannis's agents were fanning the flames of panic, spreading rumors throughout the city—whispers that food was already running out, that from now on only the nobles in the Red Keep would be fed, and that the common folk would be left to starve.

Tyrion could already feel the tension mounting throughout the city. Stannis's attacks on the gates hadn't stopped—in fact, they had increased, creating the illusion of overwhelming force outside and fueling the fear within.

He knew he had to act. If panic pushed the people too far, an uprising could erupt. And if that happened just as Stannis launched a full-scale assault, King's Landing might truly fall.

...

"Did you get everything I asked for?" Tyrion asked Podrick Payne on the third night after the fire, as the young squire returned to the Red Keep.

"Yes, my lord. Here's what I found." Podrick handed over a stack of documents.

Tyrion began flipping through them quickly. The files detailed more than a dozen prominent figures in the city—not a single one of them with a good reputation. They were all infamous for their greed and cruelty, yet they had survived unscathed because they were aligned with Cersei.

But now, Tyrion intended to go after them—not for their past crimes, but because they were hoarding food.

To avoid alerting the targets, Tyrion had deliberately chosen not to send Bronn, despite his skills. Bronn's face was too well known in King's Landing. If he started poking around, everyone would know whose orders he was following. Podrick Payne, by contrast—an unremarkable young man assigned to Tyrion by Lord Tywin—was the perfect choice for quiet intelligence gathering.

As Tyrion finished reading, his brow furrowed. It wasn't because the report lacked detail—it was the opposite. The documents listed not only the names and misdeeds of these men, but also the exact locations of their grain stores and the guards stationed there.

It was too thorough.

Far too thorough for someone like Podrick to have compiled on his own.

"Who gave you this information?" Tyrion asked bluntly.

Podrick lowered his head and answered timidly, "A little girl from Flea Bottom handed it to me. I didn't find much myself, so I figured I'd just bring you this instead."

As soon as Podrick spoke, Tyrion immediately thought of a soft-voiced, heavyset eunuch. If there was anyone in the Red Keep he couldn't quite see through, it was Varys. Tyrion had no idea what that eunuch was really thinking or what his true purpose in King's Landing was. Varys always seemed indifferent to everything—yet somehow involved in everything at once.

Just like now: this intel, clearly critical to the city's survival, could have been delivered directly. But instead, Varys had sent it through a circuitous path, as if something so vital were just a game to him.

Still, whatever Varys's motives were, Tyrion didn't care—so long as the eunuch didn't get in his way.

After double-checking the documents to ensure nothing was missing, Tyrion handed the files to Bronn and said, "Go carry it out. Be as ruthless as you like."

Bronn glanced over the names and gave a low whistle. "You really want to go through with this? Once your sister finds out, she's going to hate your guts."

"Doesn't she already?" Tyrion shot back.

Bronn shrugged and walked out of the Tower of the Hand to begin the raids, following Tyrion's plan.

...

That night was anything but quiet. Fourteen of King's Landing's most infamous noble houses were struck simultaneously. Gold Cloaks arrested the heads of each household on charges of treason and colluding with the enemy. Their estates were seized, and by noon the next day, every one of them was marched to the square in front of the Red Keep. There, before a crowd of citizens, they were all executed.

None of the condemned were well-liked. As their heads fell, the crowd erupted into cheers, chanting praises for King Joffrey. The panic and resentment that had been building throughout the city quickly faded.

Tyrion stood atop the Red Keep's walls, watching the executions and listening to the waves of cheers rising from below. He muttered to himself, "This is the will of the people. I must have done the right thing."

"The right thing?" Varys's voice came from behind him, quiet as ever. He stepped forward to gaze down at the scene and said, "I heard similar cheers the day Lord Eddard lost his head."

Tyrion frowned and turned his head to glance at him. "You give those scoundrels too much credit. They were nothing like Lord Eddard."

Varys smiled softly. "My lord, I don't know whether they were better or worse than Eddard Stark. I only know that your sister, Queen Cersei, is looking for you. And if I were you, I wouldn't stay in the Red Keep. If she gets her hands on you, I doubt anyone will be able to pull you out of her grasp."

Tyrion glanced around instinctively but saw no sign of Cersei. He exhaled slowly and calmed himself, then looked back at Varys.

"Varys, why are you still in the Red Keep? Can you tell me what you're really here for?"

"What am I here for?" Varys looked him in the eye. "For the people." freēnovelkiss.com

"For the people?" Tyrion echoed, confused.

Varys said nothing more. He turned and walked into one of the corridors, disappearing around the far corner without another word.