Eagle of the Valley of Ice and Fire.

Chapter 260: King's Landing (1)

"The Father's face is resolute and strong! ~"

"Judgment of error and justice~~"

Sansa sat beside the queen, running the teeth of a wooden comb through Cersei's smooth golden hair, over and over.

The song of the Great Sept of Baelor echoed in the air, just as his mother had taught him to sing in Winterfell, except that this time countless septas and monks sang together, and the sound was solemn and long, like the tolling of bells at dusk.

She couldn't help but hum, "The Virgin Mary brings the blessing of life and protects and looks after every woman."

"Did the septas teach you this when you were little, Sansa?"

Cersei asked, her eyes still closed.

Sansa brushed her hair and answered methodically, "Yes, my queen. Even in the north where the weirwoods grow, the song of the Seven is still sung."

A light laugh came out of Cersei's mouth. She stood up and looked at the round mirror in front of her. Her beautiful golden hair had been tied into a beautiful, dignified and elegant bun by Sansa's skillful hands, and was tightly coiled behind her head.

The queen took Sansa's hand and said, "What a lady's hand! Lady Stark has taught her daughter well."

Hearing Lady Stark's words, Sansa instinctively lowered her eyes and acted lonely.

Cersei looked at Sansa playfully and reached out to touch the ends of her red hair.

The queen always likes to show this pitiful look, especially when facing the tragic situation of the Stark family scattered around.

Sansa guessed that the reason was probably related to the dominance of the Arryns in the Vale. The queen did not like the Arryns, so she naturally showed her closeness to her.

The hymn ended with the sound of the bells, followed by the slightly cheerful tune of the troupe.

"When the queen takes off her shoes, the king takes off his crown! When the queen takes off her skirt, the king takes off his pants! ~"

Cersei frowned in obvious displeasure and pulled aside the curtain to look outside.

"Little Joff has no memory. The troupe is still here. They were almost trampled to death by those unruly people last time!" Cersei closed the curtain angrily.

"Oh! Beautiful Queen Margaery! Oh! Merciful King Joffrey, my nephew, my dear, please spare me, your beloved uncle Stannis Baratheon! ~"

The troupe's performance was actually on the road. Sansa looked at the frowning Cersei and couldn't help but feel surprised. Joffrey looked tyrannical but not brave. Everyone in the Seven Kingdoms knew that he scolded Duke Tywin to his face, but he was just relying on his self-righteous personality and his mother's doting.

How could he allow the troupe to continue performing in front of him?
Cersei once again drew aside the curtain and looked ahead, and Sansa noticed that it was the carriage in which Joffrey and Margaery were.

Jaime held the golden mask in his hand, his eyes fixed on Cersei's carriage. The bastard Oren Weasley stayed inside for a long time before coming out. He straightened his clothes and looked around carefully. After confirming that everything was correct, he walked away tremblingly.

"She slept with a lot of people, Ser Jaime," Lancel had said when he visited her again after Kevan had gone. "A lot of people. More than you think, including me. I'm sorry, Seven Gods."

He breathed faintly into James's ear. The pages of the Seven-Star Bible beside Lancel's bed fluttered gently in the wind. The strong smell of herbs almost made James nauseous.

He wanted to strangle Lancel to death on the bed.

But now, Jaime only hated why he didn't die fighting in the riverlands.

He lowered his head and stared blankly at the golden mask in his hand.

"Tywin, our father is a paranoid, Cersei? This dear sister is a complete idiot and lunatic. You must take control of all the secret passages in King's Landing, so that Wildfire and King's Landing will truly belong to you."

Tyrion's words at the Alchemists' Guild echoed in his ears.

He held his composure, took a deep breath, mounted his horse, and left the Queen Mother's carriage.

Tyrion is nowhere to be seen. I'm afraid he left King's Landing last night and went to the Vale camp outside the city.

Jaime breathed a sigh of relief and glanced over. He saw the Stark girl walking into the Queen Mother's carriage.

He had no time to care about anything else. The White Knight and a group of sworn brothers were greeting him. Jaime looked at the scorching sun above his head, pulled the reins, and galloped away.

Jaime noticed that the silver-haired bastard who had slept with Cersei was following the team, riding a warhorse and playing the harp leisurely. His sword was moving faintly at his hip.

Tyrion looked at the moonlight outside the window and calculated the time in his mind. Ever since he revealed his true thoughts in the Alchemists' Guild, Jaime had excluded himself from the investigation of the wildfire and the secret passage in King's Landing.

Looking out of the window, the big bell of the Red Castle was right in sight. I was afraid that the bell would ring the next day, and a sentence without trial would be imposed on the king in the dungeon of the Red Castle.

The glass containing the hourglass was cracked, and the sound of sand sliding through the crack was soft.

The time agreed with Bronn was not far away. The mercenary's sensitivity to the current situation was beyond his imagination. The captain of the capital guard who was trusted by Duke Tywin the moment before was about to escape from King's Landing with him and go to the Eyrie.

Tyrion returned to his desk, took a deep breath and looked at the drawings on the desk, which were stacked thickly in a corner of the desk.

He swung his calves and kicked Podrick, who was dozing against the wall. "Wake up, Pod. If we don't finish reading these blueprints and history books about the construction of King's Landing, we may not be able to bring anything to the military camp in the Vale. By then, we will really become a deformed monkey, a sleeping pig, and a cunning gibbon, three actors on stage, and we will enter the Eagle King's lair without a piece of tender meat."

He did it for Jaime, for the Lannisters, Tyrion thought.

Podrick woke up in a daze, and the first thing he asked was "Who is the monkey and who is the pig?"

"You're a pig!" Tyrion stood on tiptoe, picked up the book cover and hit him on the forehead, then unhappily instructed Podrick to hold the candle.

"Then I'm not a gibbon, am I?" Bronn's voice came from outside, standing in front of the door, with his long arms folded in front of his chest, "We can go now. The capital garrison will be relieved in a while, and we can take the charcoal seller's wheelbarrow and run away."

Tyrion sighed and didn't look at Bronn. He stared at the drawings on the table, hoping to find traces of the secret passage.

"You've already said it," Bronn played with the dagger in his hand, "the secret passage is the secret of those madmen Targaryen. It's not so easy to reveal it. Don't waste your time. Let's go."

Tyrion stood up reluctantly, reached out to take out a rope from the bookcase, and pulled it hard. "Pod, tie these things up."

"Ka! Bang!"

Podrick was holding a rope, trying to tie up all the blueprints and history books and put them into a bag, when suddenly there were several sharp scraping sounds under the attic floor, like a sword hitting the wall.

Bronn stuffed the remaining fruit into his mouth, raised his dagger gently but swiftly, and slowly walked towards the door.

Tyrion's eyes widened, and he looked at the bookcase. Podrick quickly reached out and took down the crossbow on it and loaded it with arrows.

Podrick held the oaken shield, Tyrion pressed tightly against his back, and the crossbow was carefully raised toward the gap in front.

Bronn walked down the stairs and leaned out, but froze in his tracks.

Seeing this, Tyrion rushed out, passed Podrick, and quickly pointed his crossbow at the bottom of the stairs.

The finger that was supposed to pull the trigger of the crossbow froze in place. Tyrion opened his mouth, and like Bronn, his face hesitated. A trace of paleness quickly spread, driving away the sallowness and redness on his face.

Giant dog, as big as a horse
"Giant wolf! The wolf warg in King's Landing! Many people in the city have seen it!" Podrick screamed behind Tyrion.

The golden eyes flickered like will-o'-the-wisp.

"Aim for the beast's eyes," Bronn whispered to him, with a tremor in his voice.

Tyrion's hands were shaking as he held the crossbow tremblingly. The wolf had obviously not had a bath for a long time. The blood and stench on its body were overwhelming, and the wildness and bestiality contained in it almost scared him to death.

The giant wolf bent down, left a sheepskin scroll, and in full view of everyone, jumped out of the house and disappeared into the night like a ghost.

"How did he find us?" Bronn restrained his frightened pale face and reached out for the parchment.

The direwolf Tyrion took a deep breath as he confirmed the identity of the wolf. The cold night air passed through his teeth, causing them to ache even more.

"Tsk tsk tsk, I really don't know if it's a gift from the Seven Gods or you are born with good luck." Bronn handed over the parchment scroll.

Tyrion opened the pages and saw secret passages and hidden doors, like the Virgin Mary singing a song in his ear.

He closed the parchment scroll, his expression became serious, and he looked at the broken spider webs in the stairwell. "It's time to leave the city, everyone."

(End of this chapter)