chapter 92 part 1
Chapter 92: Rewards and Punishments Must Be Just
The shores of Evenfall Hall.
[Evenfall Hall is located on the west coast of Tarth Island in the Stormlands, near Shipbreaker Bay, and is the seat of House Tarth.]
Layer upon layer of surging waves pushed forward, forming one giant wave after another. Each time a wave leaped to its highest point, a cluster of snow-white spray would burst forth in the air.
Selwyn Tarth stood in the distance, watching Brienne practice her swordplay, a gentle smile on his face.
At 52 years of age, Selwyn Tarth was the head of House Tarth, Lord of Evenfall Hall, and Lord of Tarth Island. He was known as the Evenstar.
[The Evenstar is the title for the Lord of House Tarth of Tarth Island. Legend says this title can be traced back to the Dawn Age.]
Selwyn Tarth's wife had passed away before Brienne could remember. His eldest son, Galladon, had drowned at the age of eight, and his two youngest daughters had both died in their cradles.
Thus, Brienne of Tarth became Selwyn Tarth's sole heir.
...
Brienne noticed her father strolling toward her and sheathed her sword, wiping the sweat from her face.
Selwyn said with a gentle and amiable air, "My daughter, your swordplay is looking more and more impressive to me."
Brienne's lips moved, her gaze somewhat evasive. "Father, I don't want to get married."
Selwyn shook his head and said, "Brienne, believe me, I have already given up on finding a match for you. I firmly believe the gods have already made their arrangements."
Still worried, Selwyn added, "Although I love music, and even more so the longsword, I have met many famous knights, and you are by no means weaker than them. Ser Goodwin trained you well as a squire. Perhaps House Tarth will give rise to a female knight whose name resounds throughout Westeros. I am very grateful to him, and his passing pains me greatly."
Brienne paused for a moment, then said, "Father, it's very difficult. No one likes a woman in armor, even if I defeat them."
Selwyn looked at his tall daughter with a gentle gaze and said, "Composing music is also very difficult, yet people still strive for it one after another. It is precisely because they know in their hearts that creating greatness is not easy that their fighting spirit soars."
Selwyn spread his hands. "Pay no mind to your father. The men of the Stormlands are all arrogant. I don't care what others say; I only care about my child."
Brienne turned her face to the other side.
As if he hadn't noticed Brienne's odd behavior, Selwyn continued, "Brienne, I've almost finished my investigation."
With her eyes slightly red, Brienne couldn't help but turn her head back. "So soon?"
"Of course it had to be quick. My daughter, you've never let me help you since you've grown up. I am deeply honored."
Although Brienne's expression was still stiff, Selwyn noticed her faint smile, which made him very happy.
"House Crabbe is on Crackclaw Point. They are an old noble family of Crackclaw Point. The battle-adept House Crabbe has produced three members of the Kingsguard. Crackclaw Point is filled with numerous wildling tribes, like stars in the sky. It might be the only place in Westeros that has never known peace."
Brienne looked at her father, who was introducing the place as if reciting a poem, and asked, "What do you think of it?"
Selwyn stroked his chin, thought seriously for a moment, and said, "A paradise for warriors, a hell for peacemakers?"
Brienne hesitated for a moment, then said, "That red-haired stranger told me… their lord will invite me to witness a knighting ceremony."
Selwyn was puzzled. "Lord Crabbe? How does he know you… Regardless, it's better than being unknown!"
Brienne stared at her somewhat flustered father for a moment before saying, "It's to ennoble a female knight..."
Selwyn was stunned for a moment, then a smile bloomed on his face. "Brienne, my daughter, I support you going. Be a little bolder. I will prepare the best suit of armor for you. Your father still has enough gold."
Although Brienne had her father's support, she still couldn't make up her mind.
For Brienne, who could only silently endure the ridicule of others in the Stormlands while secretly nursing a crush on Lord Renly, another... and for her, a very good, path had suddenly opened up.
For some reason, for the first time, Brienne's heart was in turmoil.
...
...
The Tower of the Hand, the Hand's Chamber.
Petyr Baelish noticed Jon Arryn's gaze. His gray-green eyes shifted, and their lines of sight met for an instant.
Petyr gave a slight, imperceptible nod.
Maintaining a faint smile, Petyr took advantage of a lull in Robert Baratheon's laughter to suddenly say, "Your Grace, it's quite a pity. Baron Glynn managed the Queen's Quarter quite well. I thought we could increase tax revenues significantly this year. Now that you have entrusted Baron Glynn with a great responsibility, I can only pray that the next manager of the Queen's Quarter can maintain its stability."
Hearing Petyr's words, Glyn's amber eyes trembled slightly.
Glyn's mind raced. Petyr's sudden mention of the Queen's Quarter was just an opening; he surely had another motive.
King Robert boomed, "Petyr, I'd sooner believe you'd seen one of the Others twisting its waist and dancing! Damnation, it seems my royal vassals aren't all a bunch of scoundrels who speak nonsense. That's the most unbelievable thing!"
As King Robert's voice faded, Petyr looked at Glyn, his gaze flashing before becoming gentle again.
Glyn's voice, a bit louder than usual, said, "Your Grace, the Queen's Quarter was filthy and chaotic. I could only manage it like a military camp. The effects were significant in the short term, but the common folk are not soldiers, after all. It is not a long-term solution."
King Robert chuckled, then his tone suddenly turned heavy. "Glyn, I agree with that. Commanding an army and ruling the realm are two different things. I am deeply… damn it, I'm thirsty!"
Before King Robert could say another word, Lancel very quickly handed him an already filled wine cup.
King Robert raised the cup and took a large gulp, letting out a satisfied breath. He said, "Petyr, my Hand needs to rest. I'm leaving this matter to you."
Petyr's lips curled as he bowed his head. "As you command, Your Grace."
King Robert's large eyes turned to Lord Jon. "Alright, I came to say goodbye to you today! Damnation, you've wasted so much of my time! Jon, I hope the next time I see you, you're alive and kicking in front of me!"
Lord Jon couldn't help but cough a few times before speaking. "Although this matter is quite humiliating for me, Baron Glynn has still rendered considerable service. I need your decree."
Although King Robert was already very impatient, he still walked over to the edge of the bed with a curse and sat down with a thump.
"Robert, Your Grace, some matters cannot be avoided. Although Baron Glynn is Queen Cersei's steward, he is first and foremost your direct vassal. You are the King; you need to dispense rewards and punishments justly."
Hearing this, the astute Glyn already understood the Hand's intention and couldn't help but curse inwardly.
King Robert raised his right hand. A shadow flickered, and Lancel instantly appeared, a full wine cup already in his hand.
"Jon, I've heard about that business. Don't you dare expect me to comfort you!"
King Robert raised the cup and took a drink, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and said again, "That's a mess left behind by the Targaryens. We can't just tear this whole place down! The Red Keep has no secrets, which is why I hate being here. I always feel like I'm standing here naked for all to see... hmm, you too!"
With that, King Robert burst into a fit of laughter.
*Am I allowed to hear this?*
Glyn glanced at Petyr, who was listening with great relish. *Never mind, this is Westeros.*
...
"Ahem, Robert, discovering this is a considerable merit, and also..."
King Robert drained the remaining wine in his cup in one go, threw the empty cup to Lancel, and said, "Jon, stop dragging it out! Tell me in one go! Or, just tell me what I should do!"
Jon's cloudy eyes gazed at Robert's fat, impatient face. A hint of a smile appeared on his face. "Ahem, I'll try to be brief. Crackclaw Point is teeming with wildlings. After the war ended, House Crabbe lacked the strength to defend their original lands, so we designated a relatively safe area for them to relocate to."
"This year, Baron Glynn, who has just inherited his House, defeated the wildlings and recovered his ancestral lands. He is your direct vassal. Perhaps before long, that place will be able to pay taxes to you."
Glyn, standing to the side with his eyes downcast, felt his ears twitch. *Taxes?*
*After Robert's Rebellion, the debt forced upon us by the Red Keep hasn't...* Glyn thought of the 150,000 Gold Dragons. *Let's see what he says first.*
...
King Robert seemed to recall something. "Damnation, I remember now! The war was over, but that place never stopped fighting. All they know is how to fight back and forth!"