Eagle of the Valley of Ice and Fire.

Chapter 261: King's Landing (2) Also known as "The Rainy Season in King's Landing"

Chapter 2: King's Landing () Also known as "The Rainy Season in King's Landing"

The prison warden and that weirdo Logan were talking nearby. Yoro was chewing some fishy dried meat, enduring the discomfort caused by the smell of the air in the dungeon, and listening to their leaky conversation.

He is the new jailer, transferred here from the port with a letter from Lord Tywin.

It's not worth it! He thought to himself, he finally survived the battle of Blackwater River, but now he has to guard this damn place. I heard that ghosts and wolf spirits often appear in the dungeon!

"What's the matter with you? Has Stannis confessed his guilt?" the butler's voice said.

It goes without saying that when Yoro turned his head, the weirdo Logan revealed his teeth covered with dirt and worms from his messy hair, and a smell of bad breath probably hit the butler's mouth and nose directly.

For this reason alone, he admired the steward all year long.

"No." The voice was rough and hoarse.

The butler frowned, thinking that it would be painful to deal with such a person.

"Why don't we just go to the trial? It's just a formality. We can use any method as long as he pleads guilty."

Logan blinked twice. His eyes were quite bright and stood out among his disheveled appearance.

"He wishes to see you, butler."

"see me?"

"I'll confess my guilt when I see you."

The butler's eyes widened, a look of joy crept up the corners of his mouth. "There is such a good thing. After all, this is the dungeon of the Red Keep. Even the toughest man will have a weak backbone. This Stannis is probably pure iron crushed into ashes." As he said that, he walked towards the dungeon.

Yolo closed his eyes. There was no way to kill time in this dungeon. There was not even a clean place to stay. There were bedbugs and sewage everywhere.

The butler came out of the dungeon from the middle of the day to the end of the day.

"Butler" Yoro quickly stood up straight.

This time the butler did not joke with him. He just looked at him calmly, nodded slightly, and walked out the door.

Weird Logan followed him and smiled at him.

“Ding-dang! Ding-dang-dong!”

Sansa closed her eyes tightly. She could tell the difference between the bells of the Red Keep and the Great Sept of Baelor. The bell tower on the dome of the Red Keep had only a majestic "dong dong!", while the city walls near the defensive coast sounded more like a horn of war.

The church bells sounded majestic and crisp, as if the playing of musical instruments and the singing of hymns were simultaneously spread out in the center of the church square, bringing the most dramatic and sacred background sound to the stage of Junlin.

It was like father and brothers kneeling in front of the weirwood, with the crows crowing in disorder and the sudden north wind howling loudly interweaving and surrounding them all.

Sansa opened her eyes and saw a huge dome-shaped building appear outside the curtain. The huge statue of Baelor I, "blessed by the Gods", slowly moved back as the carriage moved to the side. It stood calmly on the pedestal with a look of compassion.

Sansa clasped her hands together, and said, "Merciful Mother, please forgive me. She missed home too much, and missed the North that she had despised so much, and the Winterfell City located on the hot springs.
The white robes of the Kingsguard were very close to him, and when the White Knight turned his head, he saw the Hound with hideous scars.

Their eyes met, Sansa lowered her head and closed the curtain.

The Hound pursed his lips and quickened his horse's pace to catch up with King Joffrey's carriage.

Sansa covered her chest with her hands, the burning sensation in her heart surging up and down.

Sansa suppressed the discomfort of the lady's bloodthirsty desire, felt the lady's internal organs with her heart, licked her fangs, and enjoyed the blood. Her piety and regret to the Seven Gods were suppressed by this cruelty and bloodthirstiness. Sansa took a deep breath, and her eyes were no longer confused.

The golden robes held up spears to separate the gathered crowds from the nobles' carriages. Even when the king was traveling, conflicts between the people and the golden robes would often intensify in corners.

The whole row of golden robes were pushed and shoved by the people, twisting and turning like a long dancing snake.

"quiet!"

"Back off! Back off! You bastard!"

"spit!"

The man in golden robe drew his sword and opened his mouth to roar at the civilians who were pushing forward, but was hit in the face and mouth by a spit.

"Hahahahaha!" The laughter and rumors hit the man in the golden robe like soft swords.

"Damn it! I told you to step back!" The man in golden robe brandished his sword and kicked down the spitting civilian. The man in golden robe next to him also used spears and shields to hold back the people who were eager to move forward to watch the show.

Tywin sat on the pulpit in the distance, silently watching the chaos in the square. Next to him was the archbishop who kept coughing with a pale face.

Various monks walked out of the Door of the Heavenly Father, while the nuns and silent sisters walked to the back sides of the marble pulpit from the Door of Our Lady and the Door of Stranger on both sides.

The fully armed Lannister guards were stationed around the pulpit. As soon as the king's carriage arrived, the guards immediately dispersed, leaving a large space between the carriage and the stairs to the pulpit.

It had been the king's idea to drive from the Red Keep to the Sept. Joffrey seemed determined, not wanting the people of King's Landing to think he was intimidated by the incident with the mummers.

Otherwise, the king could simply stay in the cathedral and wait for his execution.

Jaime thought so as he wiped the blade of his sword with a cloth and looked at Joffrey and Margaery who got off the carriage.

"Long live the king!"

The person in charge of the church shouted loudly.

"Long live!~" The voice came from the square.

Joffrey seems much calmer than before, Jaime thought as he looked at Joffrey with a faint smile on his face.

Barristan walked up to the pulpit, his eyes drooping wearily, following Joffrey's side as he did so.

James stayed where he was and looked at the people on the pulpit: his father, the archbishop, and some unfamiliar priests. He frowned slightly, turned around and faced the people, his right hand tightly grasping the hilt of his sword.

It seems that the temple has a new group of people.

Cersei was also on the stage, but he pointedly didn't look at her.

"Archbishop" Tywin was about to speak, but was interrupted by the priest beside him.

"I'm afraid the archbishop is in poor health." The priest sitting next to the archbishop frowned, looking at the archbishop with worry in his eyes.

Tywin raised an eyebrow, looking at the bishop's bloated legs and the unhealthy paleness of his face.

The priest picked up the plate with the bottle of holy oil, nodded slightly, and bowed to the king who had arrived.

He poured out the holy oil and anointed his hands. "May God grant King Joffrey justice and discernment!" The priest approached Joffrey and rubbed the holy oil on the king's forehead.

"Long live!"

The priest put down the bottle, picked up another bottle beside him, straightened his back, and shouted loudly: "May the warrior!" He walked towards Lord Tywin who was standing beside him, "May the warrior grant Tywin the Hand an indestructible sword and invincible glory!"

Tywin bowed his head as the priest anointed him with holy oil.

After a series of ceremonies, Joffrey nodded slightly to the priest, who waved his arms, "The guilty, the traitor, the betrayer! King Robert's brother! Stannis Baratheon comes to see you!"

The entire square was almost silent. The common people and nobles were no different at this moment. They all stretched their necks, looking at Stannis who was escorted by the Lannister guards with fear and a certain hope.

The spirit and temperament of a king in the past had disappeared. His once short and neat black beard was now like an ugly pimple on the back of a toad, curled up in a roll. Even the sight of him could smell a lingering stench. His sturdy limbs were tied tightly together by rough iron chains. Sticky wet mud stained his dead wood-like legs, rubbing against the ground. When he walked to the stairs, he drooped, and the hardest leg bones seemed to have melted.

Tywin was watching Stannis. The dungeon of the Red Keep had been thoroughly searched since the old wolf escaped. He deliberately replaced a group of jailers and kept another group, just to find out the forces loyal to Stannis or the whereabouts of Varys.

Unfortunately, Stannis was imprisoned in the dungeon and was almost dying of thirst and hunger, and no one rescued him. His red robes waited for a long time, but to no avail.

However, there is no rush. There is a stage specially built for him. Countless people from King's Landing have gathered here, all kinds of people, aren't they just here to watch the show and find out who is behind it?

Stannis dropped his head and banged it against the ground. The harsh sunlight on his head must have been like burning coals.

He was looking around, and Tywin followed his gaze. The ragged people, the nobles in gold and silver, and the fully armed knights were all the same as in the previous trials in the Sept. Baelor. There was no difference.

"Cough! Cough cough!" Stannis coughed violently. It seemed that he was accustomed to breathing in the damp and moldy environment at the bottom of the dungeon. Now that he saw the light of day and the air became slightly fresher, he felt unusually uncomfortable.

"I" He seemed to want to say something.

But he was interrupted by the troupe singing loudly, "It's a hard day to hang Stan! ~ Listen to the bells ringing in the afternoon in King's Landing!"

It was obviously the tune of "The Day Black Robin Was Hanged," which the troupe had changed into a mess. The priest shouted angrily, pointing at the kneeling king: "Ser Ilyn Payne, the Lawman!"

Ilyn Payne placed his sword expertly against the back of the sinner's knees, his longsword resting against Stannis's left knee.

"Stannis Baratheon, you are charged with treason! Sentenced to death, deprived of any legal claim to the Iron Throne!"

There is no confession. As long as Stannis has a tongue, he will never confess. Tywin thought to himself, looking up at the sun in the sky. His forehead seemed to be badly burned and felt a stinging pain.

He raised his glass and took a sip, and a cool feeling dispelled the scorching heat.

The archbishop's pale face was turned towards him, his eyes staring like a dead fish.

Tywin nodded politely and looked again at Stannis, who was kneeling on the ground.

To his surprise, Joffrey stood there in silence, staring intently at the crowd below the marble podium.

It was too close, too close to the crowd below. Tywin took a deep breath, supported himself on both sides of the wooden seat with his hands, and tried to stand up.

A tingling sensation spread through his legs. Tywin sniffed and looked at his palms, which had become loose and wrinkled due to age. Without thinking too much, he exerted a little force with his legs and stood up.

"Your Majesty," Tywin called, "please take a seat at the back."

Joffrey turned his head to look at him, his green eyes like two emeralds set in it, and Tywin hardly saw it move.

The king came slowly over and sat down beside Tywin.

Tywin glanced at the sun twice. The excessive brightness made him dizzy. He waved his hand, sat down, and looked at the pulpit in an examining manner.

The most elite Lannister guards were guarding on all sides, with shields ready at all times. Both he and Joffrey were wearing soft armor. He was not afraid of his own safety, but was eager to see the enemy's performance.

The executioner, Ilyn Payne, had his hands on the hilt of his sword, waiting for the king or the prime minister to give the order.

Tywin looked at the crowd. His vision was a little blurry because his eyes were soaked with sweat, but the troupe continued to perform. The various expressions of the fools remained the same, and the Kingsguard, gold cloaks and bodyguards were well-trained and performed their duties. There was no change.

The tune of "The Day Black Robin Was Hanged" was still playing, and it was almost reaching the last part of the lyrics, "Black Robin's Struggle."

"He grabbed his throat!" "Black Robin" in the troupe seemed to be narrating himself, grabbing his own throat and singing with great expression.

Tywin coughed slightly, swallowed the wine, and took a long breath.

Cersei was just watching the troupe's performance with great interest. She didn't expect that the actors would perform so hard in such a situation. Now she looked at her father with some doubts. However, she did notice that the temperature in King's Landing changed quickly these days. She was afraid that Tywin had caught the flu. After all, the morning and noon in the city were completely different worlds. She remembered reminding Xiao Qiao in the morning.

She turned her head to look at Xiao Qiao and nodded with satisfaction. The king's majesty was undoubtedly revealed. He had learned so quickly these days. He knew what it meant to judge the situation and he was much more respectful to his father.

Don't worry, Joff, Cersei thought, my dear father always puts family first, and you are a true lion, a Lannister lion. Sooner or later, father will let you rule the entire Seven Kingdoms.

She thought of Tommen, whose lively figure and well-behaved appearance intoxicated her, but Cersei looked at Joff.

Everything will be fine with you, she thought. For some reason, Cersei always felt that there was some optimism in it.

"What do you do for?" asks Black Robin, but in this case it's Stannis.

When "Black Robin" asked the question, the sky darkened, and clouds covered the unbridled scorching sun. A breeze blew, and Cersei waved her hand to take away the maid's umbrella, squinting her eyes, feeling the cool breeze.

"Ahem!" Tywin coughed hard, and pointed his index finger at Stannis, who was kneeling on the ground. "Execute!"

These words were almost choked out as Jaime heard his father's lung-wrenching orders, which were somewhat different from his previous calm response. It seemed that the hatred between his father and Stannis was difficult to resolve.

Ilyn Payne held the sword in his hand and raised it skillfully.

"Stannis" looked up at the sky, "I am not a traitor!"

No one could hear clearly, everyone's attention was on the executioner's sword.

"Bang." Even the sound of a head falling to the ground was so faint.

Cersei changed her posture, looked at the head on the ground, and gave a charming smile.

Haha! Lannister, a debt must be paid!
"How can you be so worthy!" "Black Robin" sang loudly, but the entire troupe suddenly changed its movements.

The flute was picked up, the violin sounded, and the bass drum began to play.

No one sang the lyrics, and just another song started playing.

Cersei could tell, and everyone in the Seven Kingdoms could tell, that this was "The Rains of Castamere," or, as the folk saying goes, "A Lannister must pay his debts."

It was really appropriate. Cersei looked at her father with satisfaction. Her father was stroking his throat and rolling his eyes.

A light rain began to fall over the sky of King's Landing.

Ilyin Payne lowered his head and moved it with his feet. The face on his head was ferocious and his mouth was open.

A stabbing pain penetrated from the skin on the top of his head into his brain. There were very few scenes that could make Ilin so pale. His deep eyes were almost bulging out, his lips were trembling, and even without a tongue, he still looked like he was chewing his tongue.

He looked at the Duke, at the King, and pointed at the fallen head.

This head could be anyone but Stannis!
"And who are you the proud lord said, That I must bow so low~"

"How could it be!~" the priest exclaimed, pointing to his head.

"Save my father!" Cersei screamed.

“Only a cat of a different coat. That's all the truth I know in a coat of gold or a coat of red～A lion still has claws!” The singer’s voice was extremely powerful and echoed in the center of the square.

Tywin covered his throat and fell to the ground, his purple-blue blood vessels swelled and bulged on his facial skin.

Joffrey smiled at the people in front of him, his green eyes were like emeralds embedded in them, without a trace of expression, like a puppet.

"Long live King Stannis!~"

In the bustling crowd, it was like a puff of steam was bursting out, and some people suddenly stood up, just like the Deerhorn People during the Battle of Blackwater River reappearing in the crowd and shouting.

The arrows are like summer mosquitoes, not lethal but very annoying.

The shields of the Lannister guards were raised one after another, and most of the arrows just grazed the target, posing no threat at all.

The man in the golden robe rushed into the crowd, and chased the mob with iron swords and spears.

There were crowds of people, and there were countless people pushing and trampling.

"My minions are no worse than you, Lord~ (As long and sharp as yours~)" The people in the troupe obviously haven't realized the seriousness of the matter.

"Stop singing!" Cersei screamed, and Jaime drew his sword and slashed at the stage.

The men in golden robes pushed forward with all their strength, causing the stage to fall to pieces and the actors to be either killed or injured.

The Hound angrily blocked the arrows fired by the mob and roared down. Barristan shouted his orders, his white beard shaking again and again. Jaime saw Oren Wingwater jumping into the crowd and stabbed him in the back with a sword. He didn't check on his father's condition first. Joffrey looked straight ahead. Cersei was screaming, her voice was piercing. Margaery and the other women looked on helplessly. Sansa clung to the back of the Hound's armor, motionless. The people were noisy, some were terrified, some were laughing in gloating.

"Bug," Varys asked the little girl beside him, "Who deserves to die the most in King's Landing?"

The little girl hesitated for a few seconds, "Too many, too many to count."

"Lord Tywin must not die. He must die with Artis Arryn." Varys said to himself

The little girl said "hmm" and stopped paying attention. She looked at the many companions in front of her, who were carefully carrying these pottery jars filled with dragon flames.

Varys was silent for a moment, then spoke again: "It's time to say goodbye to the bugs."

The little girl said nothing and just nodded slightly.

"I promised you that I would do it, and you would do it yourself," Varys looked at the little girl tenderly like a father, "and bury you with this city that brought you pain."

Militao looked at the sword and ignored the little boy with his twisted body in front of him.

He had been struggling for several days, it was time to take a rest, Militang thought.

"I! I am the king!" the little boy yelled. "I command you to let me out!"

(End of this chapter)