Chapter 52 - Reaction from All Parties (II)

"Never trust luck, because behind luck there is always someone who profits from your misfortune." Petyr, Master of Coin.

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Tyrion had never heard such a roar, it was that of a wounded animal full of hatred, a motif of pure rage that sent shivers down his spine. At that moment, Robert I Baratheon was truly a king in his eyes.

"Calm down Robert, we need to stay calm for what's coming." Jon Arryn quickly came to Robert's side, causing Robert's mood to calm and he stopped gasping in anger. This eased the tension in the small council chamber.

Tywin looked at Pycelle and asked in a royal tone. "What are the chances of another shot like the one in Dorne?"

Pycelle, still pretending to be a weak and feeble old man, replied in a shaky tone. "The Order did some experiments about eighty years after it happened, about 10,000 scorpions were thrown at a target fixed a thousand meters in the air without moving, in the end not one hit the target."

No one asked why the Order of the Maesters was conducting such suspicious experiments when House Targaryen was at its height, but his words really made you understand how lucky Dorne was to get off a shot with such a minuscule chance.

(Note: One of the reasons I thought Rhaegal's death was completely unrealistic and stupid. Precision rifle bullets simply have poor accuracy after a certain range, let alone a medieval giant crossbow. Rhaegal's death was simply staged to get Dany to burn down King's Landing).

"That means even if we fill the walls with scorpions, the chances of killing a dragon are extremely slim." Renly commented with a hint of fear in his eyes. Which was normal, considering House Baratheon was the main culprit behind the fall of the Targaryen dynasty. If there was anyone who would be the first to be reduced to ashes, it was House Baratheon.

"We're lucky Prince Targaryen doesn't have his grandfather's madness, otherwise the Red Keep would be another Harrenhal by now." Tyrion said, sipping his wine. Although Tywin disliked and hated his youngest son, he agreed with his words.

The thought of Aerys with a dragon sent shivers down Tywin's spine.

"If I may speak, we must unite the Great Houses with House Baratheon." Tyrion continued, causing many to nod. This was the most important thing at the moment.

No one doubted that at this very moment many noble houses were preparing to fight against House Baratheon alongside the reconquest of House Targaryen.

The threat of death was enough to bring them to their knees, and in the eyes of many, this was the Gods' punishment for Robert Baratheon's murder of their kin.

"The marriage of Prince Joffrey to Lady Margaery Tyrell could bring House Tyrell to the side of the Crown." Petyr, known as Littlefinger, said with a smile on his lips, his eyes narrowed in thought.

"Tyrell? They'll be the first to ally with Prince Targaryen, add the hatred of House Martell and we have two Great Houses as enemies." Tyrion commented, looking at Littlefinger with a smile. He had always distrusted that man, there was something about him that made it impossible to trust him.

"Two great houses, the armies of both totaling over a hundred thousand soldiers. Another forty thousand from Prince Targaryen and a dragon capable of incinerating entire armies in minutes. Not to mention that the Tyrells are the breadbasket of the realm, with plenty of food to feed their vast armies."

"We can invite them to King's Landing and they'll be our hostages." Cersei spoke again and everyone looked at her speechlessly. If it were that easy, they would have overthrown the other Great Noble Houses long ago.

Ignoring Cersei's suggestion, Tywin, who had been silent, spoke at that moment. "I will hire assassins from the House of Black and White in Braavos."

A hush fell over the small council chamber at his words. The reason for the silence was simple: hiring such assassins was expensive, hiring an assassin to kill a Dragonlord was even more expensive, hiring an assassin to kill a Dragonlord in a city guarded by fanatics was even more expensive.

And money, only two people in the small council chamber had great wealth, of course, of course, everyone had only one option in mind.

Tywin Lannister.

Littlefinger, because of his theft and fraud in the kingdom's finances, had so much gold and profited so much in those years that he had a wealth that could be compared to a great house like the Lannisters.

No one knew this at the time, and they were unlikely to know it in the future. Robert, listening quietly, looked at everyone around him. The only ones with calm expressions were Tywin, Stannis, and the Imp; the rest showed great concern.

"If he didn't come to us, it means he wants to take back Westeros, which means he doesn't want to rule the Ashes, which is good news. He'll want to avenge his rapist father and I'll kill him just like I killed his father." Robert spoke, wiping the alcohol stains from the corner of his mouth.

The strong, powerful man who hadn't appeared since House Greyjoy's rebellion reappeared stronger than ever, perhaps even stronger than during the war twelve years ago.

Irresponsible as he was, Robert knew he had to secure the throne for his son, certain that the filthy incestuous bastard would kill anyone related to him without hesitation. He had to ensure the safety of his children, even if it meant becoming dragon food.

"Littlefinger, I don't care how, get some money and help Lord Tywin pay off the assassins, if that doesn't work we'll prepare for war."  Robert ordered in a firm and powerful tone that surprised everyone.

"Yes, Your Grace." Littlefinger smiled and answered as seriously as he could at the moment.

Jon Arryn couldn't help but sigh; he wished Robert had always been awake, but unfortunately that wasn't possible. At the same time, he couldn't help but look at the Queen with deep, calm eyes.

His investigations this year had revealed frightening things that would have terrible consequences for all of Westeros, and with Prince Targaryen across the sea, the situation had become dire.

"Eunuch, send a message to Ned explaining things, he'll want to know about all this." Robert turned to Varys and ordered in a calm, regal tone.

"I will do as you command, Your Grace." Varys replied with a soft smile.

Tyrion watched in silence as the most powerful men in the world became suspicious of a young man who wasn't even thirteen years old. It made him realize how crazy the world had become.

Perhaps he should run far away, for the odds of victory were definitely not in favor of either House Lannister or House Baratheon. Both seemed destined to burn in dragonfire.

Drinking the entire contents of his goblet, Tyrion felt a piercing gaze and noticed his father staring at him with a cold stare. For some reason, the little golden lion had a bad feeling.

"Your Grace." As Tyrion imagined, his father's voice rang out.

Robert looked at the Lord of the West in confusion.

"To make sure the enemy is funding the war, we need the Iron Bank not to support Prince Targaryen, or at least not to take sides in this war." Tywin spoke in a calm, cold tone, causing Tyrion's expression to change dramatically. He prided himself on being intelligent and understood his father's thoughts in an instant.

"Who do you recommend to go to Braavos?" Robert asked with a frown; Tywin was right. If the Iron Bank takes sides in the future war, it will be a devastating blow to any side in the war.

"Though my son is physically unfit, there's no questioning his intelligence."

In normal times, Tyrion would have been thrilled to be recognized by his father, but at that moment he felt only a chill run through his body. What is the most dangerous place in the world right now?

Tyrion didn't hesitate to answer that the most dangerous place was the continent of Essos. Even though the Free Cities were powerful, so what? In the days of Old Valyria, they didn't dare speak out when a dragon lord and his dragons landed in their cities.

Let alone now, when all the anti-dragon weapons were old and probably corroded by termites. At the same time, if word got out that he was in Essos trying to negotiate with the Iron Bank for some mysterious reason, he was sure to be dead.

Good move, Dad, you don't have the guts to kill me and you want to use other people's hands to strangle me.

Tyrion thought with a smile, hiding the pain he felt at the moment.