Bab 471: Chapter 472: The White Sword Tower
Standing atop Maegor's Holdfast, Samwell could survey the entire city of King's Landing.
After a full night of clean-up, the wights had been completely eradicated from the city.
In the pale morning light, the narrow winding alleys and broad streets were alive with soldiers hurrying about. They were clearing battlefields and maintaining order.
Plumes of black smoke rose sporadically across the city as the Silent Sisters burned the bodies of the fallen.
The battle had left devastating casualties. Whether Southern forces, Northern troops, or the citizens of King's Landing, the death toll was staggering—nearly seventy thousand lives lost to this calamity.
The wounded were countless.
Grief hung over the city like a thick fog, but as the rising sun pierced through the haze, there was a glimmer of hope.
Citizens peeked cautiously through windows and doors, curious about their transformed city and the unfamiliar soldiers speaking with Southern accents who now roamed its streets.
More than anything, their eyes were drawn to the white dragon perched on Aegon's High Hill, a stark and commanding presence.
After enduring the nightmare of the wights, the people of King's Landing longed for a protector.
Samwell, with his dragon, had naturally become their choice.
If there had been skeptics about the existence of the Others before, the arrival of the wights in a storm over King's Landing had dispelled all doubts. The terror of the dead walking among them now took root in their hearts.
With the harsh winter approaching and the prophecy of an unending Long Night, the people turned their hopes toward Samwell. They wished for him to take the Iron Throne, to become the prophesied "Prince That Was Promised" who would lead humanity against the monsters of the dark.
Although Samwell himself had stopped promoting the idea that he was this prophesied savior, a king's image is often shaped by the hopes and fears of his people.
Even the nobility, often more pragmatic and skeptical, began to feel the same.
Thus, when Samwell entered the Red Keep, the nobles in the throne room had already prepared themselves to kneel and pledge their allegiance.
But strangely, they waited all night, and the new king never appeared.
Samwell had not gone to the throne room, nor had he rushed to claim the Iron Throne—the coveted prize of Westeros's most ambitious figures, including himself.
Instead, he spent the entire night standing atop Maegor's Holdfast, gazing out over the city cloaked in darkness.
As dawn broke, the guards around him noticed how the morning light bathed the Storm King, and they felt as if they were in the presence of a deity dwelling atop a holy mountain.
Majestic, yet solitary.
"Your Grace, would you like breakfast?" a servant finally asked.
Samwell stirred from his thoughts and nodded.
The servants hurried to prepare a lavish breakfast: duck eggs, sausages, oat porridge, and milk sweetened with honey.
"Would you like some wine, Your Grace?"
Samwell shook his head and quietly finished his meal. After wiping his mouth, he stood and descended the staircase.
The guards, thinking he was finally going to meet the nobles who had been anxiously awaiting him all night, breathed a sigh of relief. But to their surprise, Samwell did not head to the throne room. Instead, he wandered through the Red Keep.
The courtiers couldn't fathom the Storm King's intentions, but none dared to question him.
When his two queens, Margaery Tyrell and Daenerys Targaryen, arrived with the following troops in King's Landing, Samwell was exploring the White Sword Tower.
"Why would he go to the White Sword Tower?" Margaery asked, puzzled.
"Perhaps he's admiring the glory of the Kingsguard," Daenerys replied with a glint of excitement in her eyes, clearly intrigued by the tower herself.
"Is that so? But Samwell personally killed three Kingsguard and sent another to the Wall," Margaery said doubtfully.
"Let's see for ourselves," Daenerys suggested.
"You go ahead. I'll meet with my father," Margaery replied.
"Fine," Daenerys said, heading to the tower accompanied by Ser Barristan Selmy.
As they approached the slender structure at the southeast corner of the Red Keep, Daenerys turned to Ser Barristan:
"If you don't object, I will ask Samwell to reinstate you as a member of the Kingsguard."
The old knight hesitated before shaking his head.
"Thank you for your kindness, Your Grace, but having left the Kingsguard once, I do not intend to return. I'd rather remain as your personal guard."
"As you wish."
Entering the White Sword Tower, Daenerys found herself in a room dominated by white—whitewashed walls, white woolen tapestries, and a white shield and crossed white swords mounted above the fireplace.
At the center of the room stood a round table carved from ancient weirwood, its pale gray surface sculpted to resemble three horses supporting a large shield.
Tradition dictated that the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard sat behind the shield, while the other six members sat on either side of the horses.
Samwell sat in the Lord Commander's chair, flipping through a large white book on the table.
The book was thick, with over a thousand pages bound in fine white calfskin, secured by golden clasps and silk threads.
It was The White Book, also known as The Book of Brothers, chronicling the deeds of every knight who had ever served in the Kingsguard.
To have one's name and accomplishments recorded in this book was the ultimate dream of many knights in Westeros.
"Sam, what are you doing here?" Daenerys asked, her pregnant belly prominent, though her fiery demeanor remained unchanged.
Samwell smiled, stood, and embraced her, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
"Just browsing," he said.
Daenerys glanced at the open book on the table, thinking she understood.
"You're planning to rebuild the Kingsguard? That makes sense. The Lannister-appointed Kingsguard are clearly unfit for duty."
"Your Grace," Ser Barristan interjected, "the Kingsguard serve for life. Even when Robert Baratheon seized the throne, he didn't dismiss those of us who had served House Targaryen."
Daenerys hesitated.
Samwell replied:
"True, removing a Kingsguard unjustly would be inappropriate. But they can resign of their own volition—just as you did when you removed your white cloak in King's Landing, Ser Barristan."
The old knight fell silent.
Though he knew Samwell's "voluntary resignation" was a euphemism for dismissal, he couldn't very well object, given his own precedent.
After a moment, he sighed and said,
"Your Grace, I do not wish to interfere with your decisions. I only hope that the traditions and honor of the Kingsguard will be preserved, and that the title of Kingsguard will not be sullied."
Samwell smiled faintly.
"Do you think the seven knights chosen by the Lannisters upheld the honor of the Kingsguard?"
Barristan opened his mouth, then closed it again.
"Then allow me to judge," Samwell said. "Mandon Moore was a coward. Boros Blount was weak and frequented the brothels on Silk Street. Osmund Kettleblack—well, he was involved in an affair with Cersei Lannister. Sandor Clegane isn't even a knight. And their so-called Lord Commander, Jaime Lannister, is now serving at the Wall.
"Tell me, Ser Barristan, who has sullied the honor of the Kingsguard—me, or them?"
(End of Chapter)
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone