Janos followed Lucas through the corridors of the Red Keep.
Lucas did not speak a word for the first few moments, simply walking ahead, his eyes quietly observing his surroundings.
"Ser Janos," Lucas finally broke the suffocating silence, offering some relief to the man behind him. "I assume you have heard the news, that I am to be the new Lord Commander of the City Watch."
Janos nodded. "Yes."
"And I also assume you are smart enough to understand what that means for you?" Lucas added.
"Yes, Ser Lucas," Janos replied, his tone polite though his expression was tight with anger. He did not think Lucas could see his face, since the man was walking a couple of steps ahead of him.
"I am no longer the Lord Commander of the City Watch," he added stiffly.
"Good," Lucas replied.
He came to a halt and turned to face Janos directly, locking eyes with him.
"I am hoping," Lucas continued, "that despite your demotion, you will continue to serve in the City Watch, even if it is as an ordinary soldier."
Janos did not respond immediately. He had not fully thought it through.
Working in the same place where he had once held command, it was no easy thing.
The men he had once ordered around would now stand as his equals in rank. That was not an easy thing to accept.
Lucas did not press the issue further and smoothly shifted to the next matter.
"Ser Janos," he asked, "say an unexpected situation breaks out somewhere in the city, how much time would it take for the City Watch to respond and gather at the scene?"
"That…" Janos stammered. He had no idea.
"Do you have any system in place to mobilize the entire City Watch quickly?" Lucas asked again. "Even those out on patrol?"
This time, Janos had an answer.
"We have horn blows," he replied. "Three consecutive blasts signal all the soldiers to report to the training grounds of the Red Keep."
"We also have watchtowers throughout the city whose job is to relay the signal further, so it reaches everyone."
Lucas nodded. At least they had a functioning alert system.
"And how many men are currently serving in the City Watch?" he asked next.
Janos stiffened.
"Around 2,000, Ser Lucas," he stammered.
"Around 2,000?" Lucas repeated, his voice turning heavy and sharp. "You do not have an exact number?"
Janos remained silent. He did know the exact number, but the situation was complicated.
"Ser Janos," Lucas said, turning and beginning to walk again. Janos had no choice but to follow.
"The soldiers are paid at the end of every moon, yes?" Lucas asked.
Janos's breath caught. He could see where this was going.
"Yes, Ser Lucas," he replied cautiously.
"And the payments are handled by the Master of Coin?" Lucas continued.
"Yes."
"And the Master of Coin must have records of every payment made?"
"Yes…" Janos replied, his voice faltering.
"Good," Lucas said. "Then how is it that you, the one overseeing the Watch, do not know the exact number of men serving under your command? You are involved in the payment process, are you not?"
Janos remained silent once more.
"Ser Janos," Lucas's voice now boomed with authority, "gather all the men of the City Watch. Every last one of them. I will not tolerate absences for any reason. If they are in King's Landing, I want them all assembled in one place."
"But the security—" Janos tried to protest.
He did not get to finish the sentence.
Lucas's gaze locked onto him, cold, piercing, unblinking. Janos felt as if that stare alone could pierce into his soul.
He stiffened, cold sweat sliding down his back as he instinctively stepped two paces away in fear.
"Never question my orders," Lucas said, his voice thundering through the corridor, before his expression relaxed slightly.
"Yes, Ser Lucas," Janos managed to mutter, then quickly scrambled away to carry out the command.
"Time to measure the depth of this master of coins," he smirked before he changing his directions into some other part of the Red Keep.
.
.
.
Petyr Baelish was a troubled man. All the power he had built over the past few years was slipping right through his fingers.
The city's tax revenues were gone. Though not his only source of income, manipulating the collection of taxes in King's Landing had accounted for a major chunk of his corrupted earnings. But now, it would be Lucas who would be responsible for collecting the taxes and it without be almost impossible to tamper with records of tax collection.
Another large portion came from falsified records. Expenses supposedly allocated for the welfare of the smallfolk. Food, clothing, repairs of the street and other things.
On paper, these things consumed a large share of the Crown's gold. In reality, most of it ended up in Petyr Baelish's personal treasury.
Then there was the issue with the City Watch. By colluding with Janos Slynt, he had been siphoning money meant for the Watch.
According to the official records, the Crown was paying salaries for approximately 2,500 men.
But the actual number of soldiers in the Watch was closer to 2,000. The wages for the phantom 500 were quietly split between Janos and Petyr. A big source of his income.
No one on the Small Council had ever possessed the wit or will to verify the numbers.
But Petyr knew that Lucas Lannister would be different. A serious threat.
That Lannister boy understood coins and books perhaps even better than Petyr himself. It would not be long, he was sure, before everything began to unravel.
His only remaining option was to throw Janos under the cart and try to save himself.
Petyr Baelish prided himself on caution. He always took precautions, always planned several steps ahead. But this time, he had not even been given the chance.
No one had expected such a sweeping change to occur so suddenly, within the span of just a few days.
He was still lost in thought when a knock on the door broke his focus.
"What is it?" he asked, irritation lacing his voice.
A servant stepped in and bowed slightly. "My lord, Ser Lucas wishes to speak with you."
Petyr's eyes widened in surprise.
"Send him in," he muttered, his expression narrowing with thought.
What he was thinking, only he knew.
*
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