Ser Martell said, "Jeffries has been begging me to meet you."
Green stopped walking, his brown eyes flickering, "Do you know his purpose?"
Ser Martell first shook his head, then nodded, "My Lord, I suspect it's for his son. Jeffries had his son late in life; he only has a 5-year-old boy. A merchant's son, with no one to protect him after his father's death, his future fate can be imagined. This is my guess."
Green didn't speak. Jeffries's leather trade with Whispering City had become increasingly frequent recently, but it was always Butler Herschel who appeared. Green had only exchanged a few words with Jeffries when he came to visit on the ship last time, so they weren't familiar.
No familiarity meant no trust.
If Ser Martell's guess was correct, would a dying old father entrust his child to someone he wasn't familiar with?
Suddenly, Green shook his head and chuckled to himself. Dealing with so many cunning people recently had made him prone to suspicion.
Matters should be distinguished by importance. Before further intelligence, one should not habitually attribute everything to conspiracy theories; excessive suspicion is a symptom of anxiety.
Green asked, "Where is he?"
Ser Martell scratched his head with his index finger and lowered his head, "His carriage is nearby. Jeffries kept emphasizing the friendship he built with Lightly through trade and his admiration for my Lord. I couldn't shake him off, and he's so badly injured, I couldn't bring myself to cut him down."
As he spoke, Ser Martell secretly glanced at Green's expression.
Everything has its pros and cons. Because of the family rules, Ser Martell was kept too strictly for the sake of having an heir.
Ser Martell only looked mature on the outside, lacking in accumulated experience.
Merchants deal with all sorts of people daily, and their rich experience hones their sharp insight. Jeffries had long seen through Ser Martell's inner self, otherwise, he wouldn't have dared to cling to him.
But Ser Martell was a descendant of the House Clebber vassal knight, so Green could only slowly guide him.
Green said with a stern face, "Go and bring him in."
Ser Martell also felt that he had handled the matter poorly and went to call someone, crestfallen.
The afternoon sun was a bit dazzling. Green instructed Mondon to bring a chair and found a shaded spot to sit down.
The discovery of the listening interlayer in the Hand's chambers today seemed not to have affected the Old Duke Jon, but inwardly, he certainly wasn't as calm as he appeared. No one could face this matter calmly.
The subsequent impact of the Hand's chambers incident had become unpredictable.
Green also thought of Duke Stannis Baratheon, King Robert's unloved second brother.
If he hadn't heard Ser Martell mention pirates and the Royal Fleet today, Green would have almost overlooked that excessively strict Duke of Dragonstone, Stannis Baratheon.
Hmm, Stannis Baratheon seemed to have an attribute of being easily overlooked.
What would happen if the fact that the respected Hand of the King, the Old Duke Jon, was about to convict a baron based solely on a song without direct evidence reached the ears of Duke Stannis Baratheon, who was meticulous about the law?
Also, according to Green's memory, Duke Stannis Baratheon was very dissatisfied with only being appointed Master of Ships.
He was also very dissatisfied with King Robert overlooking him and appointing Robert's favored third brother, Renly Baratheon, as Duke of Storm's End and Master of Laws.
During the War of the Usurper, Stannis Baratheon clearly earned many merits, yet he was enfeoffed on Dragonstone, which only had black stones, while the ancestral castle of House Baratheon was enfeoffed to his third brother Renly Baratheon, who had no merits at all.
Given Stannis Baratheon's character, under these circumstances, dissatisfaction had already turned into a flame of hatred.
Green calculated in his mind the possibility of causing the frail Old Duke Jon to die of anger without directly intervening.
If he couldn't kill him with anger, he had to make sure he couldn't get out of bed. The Old Duke Jon was very stubborn and would not easily let Green go.
In the game of power, there are no eternal enemies, only eternal interests. In this matter, Green thought of a natural ally.
The clatter of hooves, mixed with the creaking of wheels, as the carriage passed through the gate and slowly entered the courtyard where Green was.
The carriage stopped in front of Green, and Ser Martell scratched his head, looking embarrassed, "My Lord, Jeffries can't get out of the carriage."
Green impatiently waved his hand, "If he can't, he can't. Open the carriage door."
As Green's words fell, before Ser Martell could act, a thin, dark middle-aged man who had been sitting next to the coachman and had bowed to Green from a distance, got out of the carriage and opened the door.
As soon as the door opened, Green, who was not far away, smelled a putrid odor.
Jeffries, who had been rosy-faced not long ago, was now pale, leaning against the carriage seat.
After struggling to clearly see Green's appearance, Jeffries finally spoke, "Honorable Ser, please forgive my presumptuous visit."
Jeffries's voice was very weak, "After being shot by the arrow, I felt that I wouldn't escape death this time. All men must die, and I fear not death, but I cannot rest assured about my young son."
After a pause, Jeffries forced himself to continue, "In my torment, I thought of all my relatives and friends, and I despairingly found no one to entrust him to. Thanks to the Seven Gods' grace, humble me had the good fortune to know you."
Jeffries looked at Green with hope, "Your good name, loved by your people, is widely known. Although our time together was short, I feel that you have compassion for the weak. I can only beg you to forgive a dying father's desperation for his young son."
Jeffries, disregarding his injuries, struggled to slide off the seat.
Jeffries half-propped himself up and raised his face, covered in cold sweat, "I am willing to offer all my family's property, only begging you to protect my son."
Green sighed inwardly and said, "Where is your son?"
The thin, dark middle-aged man who had opened the carriage door earlier came out from behind the carriage, holding a small boy's hand.
The chubby little boy must have just finished crying; his small eyes were red and swollen.
Green reached out and touched the top of the chubby boy's head, "What's your name?"
The chubby boy was timid and dared not speak.
The thin, dark man, who had been holding the chubby boy's hand, quickly said, "Honorable noble Lord, his name is Darius."
Green touched Darius's head again and said to Jeffries, "Jeffries, your resolute fatherly love has moved me. Your son, Darius, will become the adopted son of Mason Baker, a House Clebber vassal knight."