章 154: Chapter 153: Struggle
"Besides money, the most important thing is the manpower."
After Jon Arryn finished discussing the loan issue, the task was handed over to the Master ofFinance.
"Understood, Lord Arryn."
The plump Master ofFinance, sitting to the right of King Robert, hurriedly pushed his chair back with great effort due to his large belly, and then stood up to accept the task.
If the Hand of the King was the king's most important right-hand man, the Master ofFinance held the second most important position, just below the Hand of the King.
Although the old Lord was dedicated to his duties, he couldn't personally handle everything. At his age, sailing for over a month to Braavos might cost him half his life.
"Your Majesty."
"Not long ago, we called for the suppression of the Iron Islands rebellion. Now, it's not easy to mobilize the soldiers once again."
"Once the loan is in place and rewards have been disbursed, we still need your efforts..."
Although the king was a fool, his generous nature and disregard for trivial matters gave him a strong charisma.
He was particularly popular among the lower-ranking soldiers. During the War of the Usurpers, Robert didn't mind sleeping in ditches with the soldiers, sharing their unpalatable food, and even fighting alongside them on the front lines.
In this regard, King Robert was actually quite similar to Viserys, who had high prestige within the Andalos Legion.
Apart from the various noble titles, bloodlines, and religious auras surrounding him, and his record of never losing a battle, there was another reason.
He never put on airs and had great charisma. Apart from the crown on his head, his clothing and appearance were not much different from that of ordinary people.
For Viserys, simple and clean clothes were enough. On the contrary, he disliked the elaborate attire he had to wear for important occasions.
Various belts and decorations on his body made him look like a human-shaped lightbulb...
He didn't need fancy clothes to elevate his status or differentiate himself from the common people.
However, Viserys' elder brother, Prince Rhaegar, had a slightly better reputation among the nobles.
One was a grassroots fighter in the mud, and the other was a high and mighty silver peacock.
In the Red Keep's council meeting, preparations for the anticipated war began.
...
Meanwhile, in the distant Andalos.
A month had quietly passed.
A light autumn rain was approaching.
Viserys stood on a lookout tower in the castle, his hands on the cold, hard window, overlooking the vast expanse of Andalos below.
This was the miraculous city he had built in just over six years. It started with having soldiers construct a simple wooden castle, then relocating the surrounding Andal villages through persuasion, incentives, and even violent threats, eventually forming the prototype of Andalos.
Since then, Viserys had watched it expand gradually, ultimately growing to its current scale. From above, he could see the roads stretching in all directions, the neatly arranged houses, taverns, brothels, inns, and even a few local merchant guilds that had been established.
.
However...
Viserys looked down at the city he had created with his own hands, and suddenly thought of the nine-tiered palace and the colossal red temple he had seen in Pentos, as well as the Seawater Palace in Braavos and the Titan of Braavos. A small desire stirred within him.
He wondered whether he should build a wonder in Andalos as well?
To boost the people's sense of belonging, pride, and unity.
However, this idea merely flitted through Viserys' mind before disappearing without a trace.
Poverty remained the root of all evil.
Afterwards, the young king leaned against the battlements, sighed deeply, and turned around to face the man standing behind him, wearing a metal mask.
The man was extremely thin and wrapped tightly from head to toe. Except for the two openings for his eyes in the mask, every inch of his skin was covered, including his neck, which was wound with white gauze, revealing nothing.
He stood in an odd posture, leaning against the wall, breathing heavily as if struggling with himself, trying to stand up straight.
Viserys stood in place, gazing at this once brave and skilled knight who had now fallen to such a state. A sense of pity filled his eyes, and he opened his mouth several times wanting to say something, but ultimately swallowed the words of consolation.
"Bessie."
"Your survival is truly a miracle."
This man, completely wrapped and wearing a metal mask, was none other than Viserys' personal guard, the son of an Andal warrior with a seven-pointed star engraved on his shoulder, Bessie.
Although Bessie had survived a terrifying disaster, it was a miracle in itself that he had lived. However, his remaining days were destined to be spent unable to wield a sword again, a broken man.
After narrowly escaping death, Bessie was not content to spend the rest of his life bedridden. When Viserys visited him, Bessie made a request.
He hoped to continue serving as the king's guard, believing that he could stand up again and become a useful person, asking for a chance from his king.
At that time, Viserys held Bessie's charred and cracked hand, and saw a certain persistence in his eyes.
In the end, Viserys nodded in agreement.
However, although Bessie had survived, the road to truly standing up again was long and arduous.
Hearing Viserys' voice, the struggling knight raised his head slightly and spoke with a raspy, labored breath.
"My survival is not a miracle, Your Grace."
"It's because the gods above deemed me useful and protected me, the merciful Mother..."
Bessie wanted to continue his lengthy explanation, but Viserys had already heard his story several times before.
Bessie was a devout follower of the Seven, with the seven-pointed star engraved on his shoulder as a testament to his status as a warrior's son chosen by his village.
During the great fire, he had rushed in alone, trying to save his mother and Daenerys. But as soon as he entered the inferno, he became disoriented in the thick smoke. Eventually, Bessie was knocked down by a falling ceiling panel.
Fortunately, the panel provided him with some insulation and space, allowing him to be rescued in the end.
Trapped in a small corner, suffocating and on the verge of unconsciousness, he prayed to the Seven.
Thus, he firmly believed that the reason for his miraculous survival was that the Seven had heard his prayers and ultimately saved his life.
...
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