Chapter 36: Petyr's Art of Persuasion
Red Keep, Tower of the Hand, second-floor study.
Jon Arryn held numerous titles: Lord of the Eyrie, Defender of the Vale, Warden of the East, and Hand of the King to Robert Baratheon, the First of His Name.
In his youth, Jon Arryn had sandy-gold hair, blue eyes, and an aquiline nose, giving him a handsome appearance.
This year (297 AC), the seventy-two-year-old Jon Arryn had long lost his youthful handsomeness. His once bright and thick golden hair had turned gray and sparse.
Jon Arryn's face was covered in wrinkles, and he had already lost more than half his teeth. His stooped posture, combined with the torment of his illness, made him look ancient and decrepit.
But the sharp glint that flashed from time to time in Jon Arryn's clouded eyes still indicated his firm grip on power within the Red Keep.
The Master of Coin, Petyr Baelish, seemingly picked up a letter with a broken wax seal, as if by chance. "Lord Jon, this appears to be a letter from the Arryn lands, from Seagull Town."
Petyr Baelish, who hailed from the Vale, was deeply valued and trusted by the Hand of the King, Jon Arryn.
It began when Lady Lysa Tully, who harbored a secret crush on Petyr Baelish, persuaded her husband, Jon Arryn, to promote Petyr to the post of customs officer in Seagull Town.
Petyr possessed an innate talent for money and trade. After he took up the position of customs officer, the tax revenue of Seagull Town increased tenfold. From then on, Lord Jon promoted Petyr again and again, until he finally became the Master of Coin for the court of King Robert Baratheon.
Jon Arryn looked up from his pile of documents. "Hmm? Is that the letter? I haven't had a chance to read it yet."
"It is said that many people have died in Seagull Town."
Petyr deliberately spoke with ambiguity, only emphasizing the fact that people had died in Seagull Town.
Hearing of the deaths, he successfully caught Lord Jon's attention. Jon Arryn set down the documents in his hand.
Petyr respectfully handed the letter to Lord Jon.
Lord Jon squinted as he finished reading the letter's contents. "Cleber… a noble from the Crab's Claw Peninsula?"
Lord Jon pondered for a moment before placing the letter on the desk. "Young and arrogant. It's highly likely the mastermind is Baron Clebor. More than twenty people in one night… this half-savage noble truly has no regard for human life."
"But, my respected Lord Hand," Petyr said, "as the letter states, we have no direct evidence. A song from the Crab's Claw Peninsula will not be enough to secure a conviction with Lord Renly Baratheon, the Master of Laws."
[Renly Baratheon is the third brother of King Robert Baratheon, Lord of Storm's End, and Master of Laws.]
A hint of anger appeared on Lord Jon's aged face. "Any man with eyes can see he's imitating the Old Lion of Lannister! Make arrangements immediately. Send a raven to the Crab's Claw Peninsula and tell him to come see me at the Red Keep without delay. If he has any honor as a nobleman, he won't dare refuse!"
With his head slightly bowed, a faint smile played on Petyr's lips. He replied respectfully, "My Lord Hand, Baron Glinn of House Cleber is already in King's Landing."
Lord Jon's eyes twitched slightly. "Oh? What a coincidence."
"He came through Her Highness the Queen. He is now one of the Queen's aides… It is said Queen Cersei is very fond of him, Lord Jon."
Lord Jon frowned. "Fond of him?"
Petyr had achieved his goal. Through his art of persuasion, with words that were seemingly true yet false, he had successfully provoked Lord Jon's aversion.
No matter how things played out, based on his understanding of Jon Arryn, Glyn had already earned his enmity before they had even met.
"One could also say she values him highly," Petyr said with a slight shake of his head. "It is not easy to earn Her Highness Cersei's appreciation."
With the capricious Her Highness Cersei now holding a sharp dagger like Glyn, Petyr felt a flicker of anticipation for the coming conflict between the Queen and the Hand of the King.
Lord Jon glanced out the window. Night was falling.
"Go and make the arrangements. Tomorrow morning will do. Let me meet this young guest who has come from afar."
"As you command, my noble lord. I will arrange it myself."
…
King's Landing, Hook Harbor, Glyn's residence. Night.
Glyn, having just returned home after a busy day, discovered a bulging pouch embroidered with the golden lion of House Lannister.
A total of 800 Gold Dragons. According to his squire, it was a reward just delivered by a squire of Her Highness the Queen.
Is Queen Cersei in a good mood?
The impoverished Lord Glyn was naturally delighted to receive the reward.
At the same time, a strange thought arose in Glyn's mind. He suddenly felt like he didn't want to strive anymore.
After fantasizing for a moment about a life of marrying into wealth, Glyn secretly shook his head with a wry smile.
"At least it's not for me," he thought. "I'd better keep up the grind."
…
Glyn tidied himself up, changed his clothes, and went to the residence's rear courtyard.
In the courtyard, Tyrion and Lancel were drinking merrily.
Tyrion nodded at the approaching Glyn, then said to Lancel, "So, you must support me. When I inherit Casterly Rock, my very first decree will be to restore the lord's right of the first night. Heh heh!"
Lancel was already tipsy. "Oh, my great cousin Tyrion, although I like the idea, I can only support you in private. You would surely be driven out of Casterly Rock by a mob, and I don't want to be implicated with you."
Glyn sat down, poured himself a cup, and said with a smile, "We will all remember him fondly. Lord Tyrion sacrificed himself for the greater good of all."
Tyrion laughed loudly. "Ah ha, such is the heart of man! Hmm, the heart of a man. I'm just brave enough to say it out loud."
Lancel raised his cup. "Baron Glinn, you're finally here! I had the worst luck today. You have to listen to my story. I'm telling you, I was so unlucky today."
Yes, a drunk Lancel was quite garrulous.
Although Lancel's story was all over the place and a complete mess, Glyn still managed to understand what had happened.
Glyn raised his cup toward Tyrion in a gesture. "A toast to you, the formidable Lord Tyrion."
Tyrion drank a large gulp with a grin, then shook off Lancel's hand, which had been gripping his shoulder. He dragged his chair closer to Glyn. "You're not worried about me in the slightest, are you?"
Glyn took a sip of wine and raised an eyebrow. "You're a Lannister. Besides, a Prince who isn't in line to inherit the throne can do nothing to you."
Tyrion grinned, then sighed. "In truth, I really do hope to teach Joffrey a lesson. Although the boy is thoroughly unlikable, I've never thought of him as an outsider."
Tyrion lowered his voice. "When Joffrey was a child, he once killed a pregnant cat. Can you guess why? Simply because he was curious what the kittens inside her belly looked like. So he took a dagger and cut the poor pregnant cat open. Joffrey lacks reverence for life. He is indifferent to the lives of others. If he isn't corrected in time, he'll become another Mad King in the future."
Is it really a good idea to tell me this kind of royal secret?
Glyn glanced at Lancel, who was still muttering to himself, and said, "You had best advise Lancel. Tell him to find a way to become the King's Squire ahead of schedule."
Tyrion nodded in agreement. "Lancel has left an impression of weakness on Joffrey. And with Joffrey's personality… the weaker someone is, the more he enjoys tormenting them. If he feels you're not to be trifled with, he won't dare to provoke you. Ha, and that is my dear nephew, the heir to the Iron Throne."
(end of chapter)