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98.93% Song of Ice and Fire: The Iron Throne [ Dropped ] / Chapter 93: -90- Dragon hunting

Capítulo 93: -90- Dragon hunting

Tower of the Hand.

Gallen had just exited the stairs, yet before he could reach the Hand's study, he was stopped by the secretary he had met that morning.

"Lord Gallen, apologies, but the Hand requests you in his bedroom."

Gallen didn't ask further, merely nodded slightly and said, "Lead the way."

Upon hearing this, the secretary glanced at Gallen and extended a hand, "Please follow me."

The quiet of the Tower of the Hand was broken only by the footsteps of the two men.

Ascending another floor, Gallen noticed two Gold Cloaks standing guard on either side of a door.

The secretary stopped, turned sideways with a slight bow, and gestured towards the Gold Cloaks.

"Lord Baelish sends his regards."

As Gallen stepped past the secretary, a whisper only the two of them could hear reached his ears.

Gallen nodded slightly, walked alone to the door, and calmly adjusted his armor.

...

Lancel, shadows, regards.

Gallen, his head slightly lowered, allowed a subtle smirk to play on his lips.

After tidying his attire, Gallen straightened his posture, his brown eyes glancing at the Gold Cloaks.

The Gold Cloaks, without looking sideways, opened the door, and Gallen stepped in.

...

Entering the Hand's bedroom, Gallen was immediately met with the smell of medicine.

The strong scent filled the entire room.

Compared to their last meeting, several attendants were now silently bustling around.

Gallen's face did not show any discomfort at the smell. He nodded in greeting to Jon Arryn, who was propped up against the headboard, "Good day, my lord."

Lord Arryn's tone was warm, "Come, child, I'm glad to see you. Sit down."

As he spoke, one of the attendants placed a chair gently beside the bed.

The same old routine... Gallen, while wary of Lord Arryn's kindness, couldn't help but roll his eyes internally.

Gallen's gaze shifted slightly as he sat on only the edge of the chair, leaning slightly towards Jon, hands resting on his knees.

Gallen was making it seem like he was caring for the frail Lord Arryn, but he was intentionally making them appear close.

Lord Arryn showed no change in expression at Gallen's small gesture, his cloudy eyes fixed on Gallen, "I heard you caused quite a stir in Highgarden?"

Gallen gave an embarrassed smile, replying, "Crackclaw Point is short on food. My steward told me that the grain prices in the Reach were reasonable, so I took the opportunity to visit Highgarden during the Royal Hunt."

Pausing, Gallen continued, "But things didn't go smoothly. I had only a few Gold Dragons in my pocket, and those merchants wouldn't even bother with a poor lord from the Crownlands. So..."

"Ahem, and then?"

Gallen's tone carried a hint of excitement, "Since my etiquette didn't earn me proper treatment, I set up a challenge outside Highgarden, speaking to them with my sword. For several days, I defeated over a hundred challengers from the Reach!"

"Cough, very interesting."

"Things went smoothly afterward, and we managed to trade Crackclaw Point's leather for the Reach's grain. This has relieved me temporarily. The constant fighting in Crackclaw Point is largely due to the struggle for food; without a stable environment, things will only get worse."

Gallen's words inadvertently made Lord Arryn think about succession. For a great lord, an heir was crucial.

Jon Arryn had been married three times.

His first wife, Jeyne Royce, died in childbirth along with their daughter.

His second wife, his cousin Rowena Arryn, died of a chill without bearing children.

Jon had designated several heirs, but each had died before him.

The first heir, his brother Ronnel's youngest son, Elbert Arryn, was executed by the Mad King before the War of the Usurper.

The second heir, Denys from a cadet branch of House Arryn, was killed during the Battle of the Trident.

During the War of the Usurper, Jon married Lysa Tully, daughter of Lord Hoster Tully, who finally bore him a frail son, Robert Arryn, after several miscarriages.

...

"Lord Arryn?"

Gallen's voice brought Jon back from his memories.

Gallen's face showed concern, but internally, he had a realization.

Though Jon Arryn appeared similar to when they last met, Gallen could sense that the Hand had no chance of recovery.

If the Maester could maintain Jon Arryn's condition... maybe one or two years?

Jon Arryn, returning to reality, gazed at Gallen with a complex expression.

The kingdom's future belonged to the young... The elderly Jon Arryn sighed inwardly, feeling the cruelty of time.

Jon's sentiment was fleeting; he didn't forget why he had summoned Gallen.

Jon Arryn praised, "I was right about you, Lord Gallen. Though young, you are quite capable."

To Gallen, the praise sounded grating.

Gallen shook his head slightly, taking the initiative to speak, "Lord Arryn, during this time, I've also learned about some situations through various channels."

"For over a decade, we have spent 100,000 to 200,000 Gold Dragons annually on intelligence and assassins to hunt down the young Targaryens across the Narrow Sea, yet we have achieved nothing..."

Gallen stopped, his eyes questioning as they met Jon Arryn's gaze.

Lord Arryn's cheek muscles twitched slightly.

"You are exaggerating the difficulties.... If someone could be stationed in Essos, it would be a different situation..."

Taking advantage of Lord Arryn's pause, Gallen nodded readily and said, "Lord Arryn, then I am relieved. I was just worried about not getting support from the Red Keep.

I have men at my disposal, over two thousand soldiers (Gallen deliberately exaggerated the numbers), who have fought for House Crabb for generations. Each one is an excellent warrior, reliable, and will be worthy of your trust.

I will take my men across the sea. We will search every corner of Essos. Given enough time, I am sure I can find the hidden remaining dragons.

Of course, back to the beginning, what I need is the support of the Red Keep..."

Lord Arryn's lips moved slightly. He paused for a while before speaking, "I will keep my promise. When you return successfully, you will be the Protector of Crackclaw Point."

Gallen was astonished and said, "Lord Arryn, forgive my rudeness, but what about the support from the Red Keep?"

Lord Arryn's cloudy eyes flashed sharply, "Crackclaw Point has never had a Protector. That is the support from the Red Keep."

Gallen's tone was filled with dissatisfaction, "Lord Arryn, I don't even have ships to cross the sea!"

Lord Arryn stared at Gallen for a while and said, "Three years. You don't need to take so many men. As long as you are dedicated for three years, regardless of the outcome, you will be the Protector of Crackclaw Point."

Gallen laughed, hiding the anger in his eyes, "Lord Arryn, I am just a swordsman. I don't understand what you mean."

In the room, the angry Gallen and the calm Lord Arryn presented a stark contrast.

"Gallen, I know you are smart. You actually already understand my meaning."

Lord Arryn's eyes fixed on Gallen, "Or, you deliberately found an acceptable excuse... Do you harbor sympathy for the Targaryens?"

Gallen suddenly stood up, raising his voice, "Lord Arryn, you insult my honor with baseless accusations! I will not accept this. I demand a duel with a swordsman who represents you, to prove my loyalty to the kingdom."

The air in the bedroom seemed to freeze. Everyone present was stunned.

Except for Gallen and Lord Arryn.

Gallen looked as if he was consumed with anger.

Gallen's actions did not elicit any change in Jon Arryn's calm face.

A trace of regret flashed in Jon Arryn's eyes. He silently lamented the lost opportunity.

I am truely unsuited for such schemes

Jon Arryn thought, perhaps it was the mercy of the gods, not allowing him to lose the honor he guarded all his life in his final years.

Lord Arryn sighed inwardly, "Forget it. It's been over ten years. A weakened Crackclaw Point can't cause much trouble."

My successor will do better than me....

...

"Enough! Damn it, I've heard enough!"

A rough voice sounded from behind the bed.

The burly Robert Baratheon strode out from behind.

Gallen glanced at Jon Arryn on the bed and bowed to King Robert, "Good day, Your Majesty."

King Robert stood in front of Gallen, "How did I fall asleep? Lord of Whispers, you disturbed my pleasant dream.

However, your like your attitude. The remnants of the Targaryens deserve death. Someone bring me a drink. Where is that Lannister fool of a squire? Where did he hide this time?!"

With a bang, Lancel hurriedly entered, holding a cup and a jug of wine.

As King Robert drank, Gallen quietly moved aside, standing silently with his head down.

King Robert downed his drink in one gulp and said, "Be more attentive, Lannister. If you delay my wine again, I'll hang you at the city gates!"

King Robert turned to Lord Arryn, "Jon, you should rest and recover. Leave these trivial matters to others. As long as my hammer is still here, the realm will be fine!"

Lord Arryn smiled and said, "Your Majesty, I disturbed your dream. I'm just not used to it yet. I've entrusted many things to Petyr. He's done well, and I can be at ease."

Robert laughed heartily, "That's good news. Let him handle more. Although I don't like his deceit, he's good at dealing with troubles."

King Robert's gaze shifted to Gallen, his large eyes fixed unblinkingly on him.

Facing Robert's imposing presence, Gallen remained... calm and collected.

Before long, Robert burst into laughter, "Gallen Crabb, you are a decent young man, a good warrior! I've heard your plan to hunt the dragon, and you are far more reliable than those court jesters who waste my Gold Dragons. Tell me, how should the Red Keep support your plan?"

Gallen looked at Robert, his voice filled with confidence, "Your Majesty, I have enough men. I only need 150,000 Gold Dragons from the Red Keep annually!"

Robert's smile froze for a moment, then he cursed, "Damn it! You lot only know how to ask for money when you see me. A hundred and fifty thousand, every year? Do you think that Iron Throne of mine shits gold?!"

Gallen, facing Robert's might, said straightforwardly, "Your Majesty, Essos is much larger than Westeros. It's like finding a needle in a haystack. My men can't search while begging for food."

Robert laughed heartily, "You've made a good point there! Soldiers fighting on an empty stomach won't just curse you; they'll burn your tent down!"

Robert looked towards the door, "Someone, bring me my Master of Coin!"

Jon Arryn spoke up, "Petyr is in the Hand's study, send someone downstairs to bring him up."

.....

Soon, Petyr Baelish entered the room, meticulously dressed, and greeted King Robert, "Good day, Your Grace."

Robert nodded, "Petyr, is there still gold in the royal treasury?"

Petyr smiled and said, "Your Grace, as long as you have a need, I will always ensure the treasury has the exact amount of coin required."

Robert, satisfied, turned to Gallen and said, "Lord of Whispers, I don't like waiting without results."

Gallen's right hand thumped on his chest, "Your Majesty, I will only need your support for three years. There will be results."

Robert's plump face showed a hint of satisfaction. He nodded and said to Petyr, "Petyr, prepare 150,000 Gold Dragons for him!"

Petyr bowed, "As you wish, your grace."

Robert's eyes shifted back to Gallen, "Gallen Crabb, this is for three years. I'm giving it to you all at once!

I won't have soldiers fighting on empty stomachs, but I won't have them eating gold either!

Do you know what the most expensive thing is? Worthless intelligence! I will have Varys assist you. Remember, I will not tolerate failure, and there will be no additional rewards!

The faster, the better. If you succeed, you can keep the remaining gold!"

Say no more! King Robert, I am willing to go through fire and water for you... Gallen looked at King Robert with even more determination in his eyes.


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