Bab 446: Chapter 447: Advice and Defiance
When Tyrion Lannister received word that the Northern Coalition army had retreated to King's Landing, he was lying in a soft feather bed, wrapped in the warmth of Shae's body.
"Quick, quick, help me get dressed!" he barked, leaping from the bed.
"Why did Lord Tywin retreat? Did he lose the battle?" Shae asked as she helped him into his clothes.
"It hasn't come to that yet. Caesar's forces haven't fully crossed the river yet," Tyrion replied as he hastily pulled on his boots.
"Then why retreat?"
"Probably because they're out of food," Tyrion muttered, evading further questions. After dressing, he planted a quick kiss on Shae's cheek. "Don't worry, everything will be fine. I'll be back soon."
Shae caught his hand. "When you return, will you already have your Stark wife?"
"You've heard about that?"
"Everyone in the city knows you're marrying Lady Sansa Stark," she said with a hint of bitterness.
That's not Sansa Stark, Tyrion almost blurted out but managed to hold his tongue.
"We'll talk about this when I return," he said, attempting to placate her.
Surprisingly, Shae was more understanding than he'd anticipated:
"I understand. You're Lord Tywin's son. Of course, you must marry a noblewoman. Someone like me, a lowly camp follower, could never hope to become your wife. I've never even dared to dream of it. I only ask that after you're married, you don't abandon me..."
"Of course not," Tyrion promised immediately.
"And you'll still come to see me as often as you used to?"
"I swear it," he said, nodding earnestly before leaving in haste.
---
When Tyrion returned to the Red Keep, he learned that Lord Tywin had already arrived.
He found his father in the study within the Tower of the Hand.
"This is your doing!" Tywin Lannister barked, his fury undisguised the moment he saw his son.
"Thank you for the compliment," Tyrion replied with a cheeky smile, pretending not to notice his father's sarcasm. "I simply did what needed to be done."
"What you needed to do was supply the army with provisions. Did you manage that?"
"I did my best," Tyrion said with a shrug. "There's only so much food in King's Landing. I've already sent all that could be spared to the front. You may not realize, but even the lords in the Red Keep are going hungry. Our lovely queen mother complains daily, accusing me of trying to starve her to death..."
"Did you requisition food from the city's populace?" Tywin interrupted coldly.
"I've already confiscated all the food in the city's markets."
"I'm talking about going door-to-door and taking it from private homes," Tywin said, his voice icy.
Tyrion's eyes widened.
"You want me to send soldiers to break down people's doors and seize their private stores of food?"
"Yes. There's bound to be grain hidden in their homes."
"And what are they supposed to eat after we take it?"
"I only care about feeding my army."
Tyrion chuckled bitterly. "The people of King's Landing won't just sit and wait to starve. Do you have any idea how many riots I've already had to suppress simply by closing the markets?"
"That's why I left you with soldiers," Tywin snapped.
"Do you realize how many people live in King's Landing?" Tyrion retorted. "Half a million! Half a million people! And you left me with how many soldiers?"
"Flocks of sheep are no match for a single lion," Tywin said dismissively. "What threat can an unarmed, disorganized rabble pose? Have you forgotten that Caesar is our greatest threat? If we can't stop him from crossing the river, feeding the city will be the least of our worries."
"Face reality, Father," Tyrion sighed. "We've already lost this war. Surrender now, and at least we might retain some dignity."
For a long moment, Tywin said nothing, his icy gaze fixed on his son.
Having spoken his mind, Tyrion felt no need to hold back.
"I know the situation on the front lines," he continued. "You can't stop Caesar's forces from establishing themselves on the northern bank. And your great hope—the Braavosi fleet—encountered the Stormlands navy in Blackwater Bay. There's been no word from them since..."
"Enough!" Tywin snarled, cutting him off. "So this is why you deliberately let the army run out of food? You're that eager to surrender to Caesar?"
"I just don't want to see any more pointless deaths," Tyrion said, softening his tone in an attempt to reason with his father. "And with your wisdom, you must have realized that the Northern lords are starting to turn against us.
"Anya Waynwood has no control over the Vale. Roose Bolton lacks Ned Stark's authority to command the North. The Riverlands are already in chaos.
"We can't win this war. Instead of squandering more lives, we should negotiate while we still can.
"I've dealt with Caesar. He's not a bloodthirsty man. As long as our terms are reasonable, I believe he'd accept our surrender."
Tywin snorted derisively.
"Have you forgotten what happened to House Martell? Or how House Tyrell has been reduced to mere puppets?"
"Considering he's the victor, Caesar's treatment of the Martells and Tyrells has been remarkably merciful. Compare that to how you treated the Targaryens when you marched on King's Landing. You didn't even spare their infants."
Tyrion didn't voice the last thought but knew his father understood.
Even unspoken, the words seemed to enrage Tywin further.
"Only cowards think of surrender!" Tywin growled, his voice trembling with fury.
"Only fools fight wars they're destined to lose," Tyrion shot back. "And you don't need to worry that Caesar would refuse our surrender. He's been rallying the southern lords with the promise of uniting against the White Walkers.
"If he's using that as his pretext, we can leverage it to end the civil war and unite against the northern threat."
"Naïve," Tywin sneered. "You actually believe in White Walkers? And you think you can use that excuse to manipulate Caesar? Once we lay down our weapons, we'll be entirely at his mercy."
"We're no match for him even with weapons," Tyrion countered. "Let me act as your envoy and test Caesar's stance."
"You wish," Tywin scoffed. "Do you think I don't know what you'd propose to him?"
Tyrion replied calmly, "I'd ensure Caesar spares your life—"
"Yes, so I can live out my days as a glorified watchman on the Wall," Tywin mocked. "Meanwhile, you'd inherit Casterly Rock and everything I built."
"Honestly, I don't care much for Casterly Rock. And let's be real: the Lannisters won't hold any real power for a long time after this."
"You admit Caesar won't let the Lannisters recover," Tywin said coldly.
"But at least our bloodline would survive."
"If that's your grand plan, it's utterly foolish," Tywin declared. "You're relieved of all duties. Return to your quarters and stay out of my sight. I'll handle the rest."
Tyrion shrugged, unsurprised by the outcome.
Removing the golden chain that symbolized his authority as Hand of the King, he placed it on the table, then bowed mockingly.
"Good luck, Father. May your unparalleled wisdom lead House Lannister to yet another triumph."
(End of Chapter)
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