When the sky had turned completely dark, Tyrion changed into a relatively high-end black coat. This was for stealth, and also to avoid losing his honor as a Lannister in front of Viserys.
He didn't bring any guards, only hiding a valyrian steel dagger at his waist for self-defense. He had won this dagger from a bet with Petyr before. However, rather than for protection, it was more like a meager bit of comfort for his mind.
Varys personally led the way for him. The two passed through the silent Red Keep and finally arrived at an extremely remote corner. After some movements from Varys, a pitch-black secret passage appeared before Tyrion.
"My lord, this is an entrance to the legendary secret passages of Red Keep. By going down here, we can easily reach the outside of the city," Varys explained to the dazed Tyrion.
Looking at the pitch-black entrance to the secret passage, Tyrion couldn't help but shiver, as if the road ahead was a point of no return. But he still spoke up, "Red Keep's secret passages? I really do want to see them for myself."
After saying that, he took a deep breath and walked in of his own accord. Varys followed closely behind, entering the secret passage with an oil lamp in hand, then moved ahead of Tyrion to expertly lead the way.
The air inside the secret passage was colder and more humid than outside, and it was permeated with a faint smell of mold.
Tyrion couldn't help but curl his lip and said, "This is certainly a 'dignified' way to meet, as if we're off to do some shady business."
"Extraordinary times call for extraordinary measures, my lord," Varys replied with a smile.
The path beneath their feet was uneven in places. For someone like Tyrion with leg problems, a slight lapse in attention could lead to a fall.
"How many years of history does this secret passage have?" Tyrion asked as he walked carefully.
"No one knows the exact time, my lord."
Varys's voice carried a hint of mystery as he said, "They have likely existed since Maegor the Cruel built Red Keep. These secret passages extend in all directions; not only do they lead outside the city, but some also connect to many important rooms within Red Keep, and even the Black Cells. Successive Targaryen kings have tried to master all the passages, but there are always corners forgotten, becoming places for certain people to conduct secret activities."
Tyrion snorted and said, "I have no doubt about that. In King's Landing, there are even more secrets than there are rats in the sewers."
He couldn't help but imagine how many people had crept through these dark tunnels over countless nights, harboring schemes or secrets. Even he himself had now become a part of these secrets.
The two walked in silence for a long time. Sometimes they could even hear blurred footsteps and voices from above, reminding Tyrion that Red Keep was right over their heads.
Tyrion's mind was also racing. He wondered why Viserys would agree to meet him, and at such a time and place. What was that young man, whom even Varys couldn't see through, planning in his heart?
This looked more like a trap than a negotiation. But things had come to this point, and there was no room for turning back. He had to seize this opportunity, even if there was only a one-in-ten-thousand chance, to strive for a glimmer of hope for himself and for the Lannisters.
Turning another corner, a faint light finally appeared ahead. Varys quickened his pace, signaling Tyrion to keep up. After cautiously peering out to observe, Varys made a safe gesture to Tyrion.
Tyrion followed him out. The exit of this secret passage seemed to be at a remote bank of the Blackwater Rush, where a small boat was already waiting for him.
From here, he could even see the campfires of the Targaryen camp, those dense points of light stretching into the distant darkness.
"My lord, take the boat from here, and Viserys's people will meet you further on. I can only take you this far. Good luck to you." Varys stopped, his voice kept extremely low. His eyes, which always carried a cunning glint, actually showed a bit of genuine worry at this moment.
Tyrion also saw Varys's concern. He patted his arm and squeezed out a smile that looked worse than crying, saying, "Don't worry, I don't intend for this head of mine to move house so easily."
He paused and added, "If I really don't come back, please protect Sansa. I promised her before that I would send her back to the North. I imagine that in the chaos of King's Landing, it shouldn't be difficult for a spider like you to hide one person."
Hearing this, Varys's gaze immediately became complicated. He seemed to want to say something, but in the end, he just nodded and said, "I will certainly do so, my lord." Then he bowed slightly and quickly retreated back into the secret passage, disappearing into the darkness.
Tyrion watched him leave, straightened his coat, and took a deep breath of the relatively 'fresh' air outside the city. Then he looked toward the Targaryens in the distance, stepped out with his short legs, and resolutely boarded the small boat sailing toward the unknown.
The boatman was a silent old man who didn't say a word the entire time. Tyrion stood at the bow, looking at the tents ahead that were getting closer and closer.
After the boat docked, several soldiers wearing spiked helmets came forward. Their armor was engraved with the sigil of the three-headed dragon; their eyes were sharp and their movements disciplined. The leader only glanced at Tyrion, his face devoid of any expression.
He said to Tyrion in somewhat stiff common tongue, "Are you Tyrion Lannister?"
"It's me. Judging by your attire, are you the legendary Unsullied?" Tyrion couldn't help but ask. He had long heard of this army that Viserys had recruited.
Moreover, he had heard that the Unsullied were all eunuchs like Varys. He truly wondered how eunuchs could possess such formidable strength. If they could luckily defeat Viserys this time, or if they could coexist peacefully with him, perhaps the Westerlands could also try to establish such an army.
Unfortunately, the man didn't answer Tyrion, only saying coldly, "Follow me."
Tyrion looked at these 'tin cans' and didn't say anything more, silently following them into the camp. Viserys's military camp was unexpectedly quiet. Most of the soldiers were already asleep, with only patrolling sentries and the occasional neighing of warhorses.
He also noticed that the layout of the camp before him was orderly. Although the soldiers were resting, their armor and weapons were placed within easy reach. It was clearly a well-trained and heavily guarded army.
This deepened his unease by several degrees, and even the last trace of wishful thinking in his heart vanished. Such an army, combined with dragons—King's Landing simply could not hold.
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