"What are your instructions, Your Majesty?" Varys pursed his lips, as if to make the lipstick on his lips more even.
"This is utter nonsense!" Eddard cursed, then he realized that the courtiers were all looking at him with scrutinizing eyes. Eddard remembered that he was in King's Landing, in the palace of the Seven Kingdoms, the place of the highest authority, not in Winterfell in the North.
This is not the North, not Winterfell. The people here are of the same status as him. They sit on equal footing in the council. He is merely their head, appointed by the king, but these people are not his vassals or his subordinates.
"The king wants to hold a national tournament in my name." Ed suppressed his dissatisfaction and suppressed the anger in his voice. "God knows how much I hate this kind of thing."
"What Lord Ned means," Duke Renly said with a light laugh, "is that His Majesty the King has instructed us to hold a grand tournament to celebrate the inauguration of the new Prime Minister."
"How much will it cost?" Treasurer Petyr Baelish, Littlefinger, relaxed from his upright posture. He had thought it was something extremely urgent, but it turned out to be such a trivial matter. He spoke with a completely uninterested tone.
Ed read the answer from the letter, his voice filled with barely suppressed helplessness and resistance: "The winner will be awarded 40,000 gold dragons, and the runner-up will be awarded 20,000 gold dragons. The winner of the group close combat will also receive 20,000, and the archery winner will receive 10,000."
Renly laughed in a strange tone: "My brother is really generous. The Mountain risked his life to conquer Riverrun, and the Duke of Horst only paid ten thousand gold dragons to ransom the city. He's giving the winner forty thousand gold dragons, which means he's giving the winner four Riverruns at once? Tsk tsk, I have to admire my brother's generosity."
"Riverrun is priceless, Lord Renly, just like Storm's End. There's no comparison," Lord Eddard said unhappily. Riverrun was Eddard's father-in-law's home city, and Renly's mockery of the Tully family's incompetence in front of Eddard was truly excessive.
"The bounty is 90,000 gold coins in total," Littlefinger chuckled. "And that doesn't even include other expenses. It's obvious His Majesty Robert will throw a huge feast. That means we'll need cooks, carpenters, waitresses, singers, actors, jesters, and clowns... plus all sorts of ingredients and beer... Good heavens, knights and nobles from all over the country will be coming to King's Landing. Just imagine, a knight with three knights, a knight with five squires—that's the smallest possible group... When they arrive, we'll be responsible for providing them with food and drink during the tournament... Tsk tsk!"
"That would be lively! My brother loves crowds and excitement, plus a martial arts competition or something, he'll be happy for a long time," Duke Lanley said with a smile. He seemed quite interested.
Eddard really disliked Renly!
Grand Master Paisel looked at Little Finger and asked, "Can the national treasury pay this amount?"
"The treasury? Where's the treasury now?" Littlefinger's lips curled into a mischievous grin. "Grand Maester, don't play dumb. You and I both know the treasury has been empty for years. Now we have to borrow money to get anything done. I think the Lannisters in the Westerlands would be happy to lend a hand. Anyway, we already owe Lord Tywin over three million gold dragons, so borrowing a few hundred thousand more won't be a big deal."
Ed's eyes widened, his mouth gaped open; he was utterly shocked. "Lord Petyr, you said the royal family's debt is over three million gold coins?"
"Lord Stark, the royal family's total debt now exceeds six million gold dragons. The Lannisters are the largest creditors, with Lord Tywin Lannister alone accounting for half of the royal debt. In addition, we have borrowed money from Lord Tyrell in the Reach, the Iron Bank of Braavos across the Narrow Sea, and several Tyrothy trading houses. Later, I had to find another source of income and set my sights on the Church of Baelor. The High Archbishop's bargaining skills are better than even the fishmongers of Dorne. We now owe the Church more than a million gold dragons. As for the interest, you wouldn't want to know; even I feel disgusted just thinking about it."
Ned found it unbelievable.
He could hear the shock in his own voice: "Aerys Targaryen left behind mountains of gold and silver, how could you let it be so depleted?"
Littlefinger shrugged and sneered: "The Chancellor of the Exchequer is only in charge of finding money; it's the King and the Prime Minister who spend it. Even if I had magic, I could turn a gold coin into two by grinding it, but the King would spend three, four, or even more at a time. I wouldn't have enough time to grind gold coins even if I didn't eat or sleep all day. What else can I do but try to borrow money?"
"Prime Minister Jon Arryn will never allow Robert to squander like this," Ned said indignantly.
Grand Master Paisell shook his head, the necklace around his neck jingling melodiously, like the pleasant sound of gold coins clinking together: "Lord Erin is a rare and excellent prime minister. He works hard for the country and is meticulous in his calculations, but His Majesty the King does not necessarily heed all the prime minister's wise advice."
"My brother is incredibly fond of martial arts competitions and delicacies, and of course, he always has his wine with him," Renly Baratheon chuckled. "He hates the so-called 'counting coins' game the most. If anyone dares to say a word against him, he'll make you drink his wine down your face."
"Drinking alcohol with your face?" Ed asked, puzzled.
"I just splashed wine all over your face!" Little Finger pouted, a mocking smile playing on his lips.
Ed was momentarily embarrassed, while Renly burst into laughter.
Intelligence chief Varys smiled, his chubby face, covered in face powder, crumbled downwards!
Ed stood up, feeling no goodwill towards the four high-ranking officials present. This so-called urgent meeting was actually not urgent at all. Robert was no longer the Robert he used to know; he was ambitious and irrational. "I'm tired. I just dismounted. I will speak to His Majesty the King and hope that this tournament can be cancelled."
"We won't stop you from persuading my brother to retract his order, but based on my understanding of him over the years, Your Excellency, you'd better sit down and let's work together to figure out how to hold the national martial arts tournament."
"Yes, yes, I need to think carefully about who to borrow these hundreds of thousands of gold coins from. My god, it really is His Majesty the King! The winner's reward alone is 90,000 gold dragon coins! Tsk tsk. Nine River City! If Demon Mountain knew about this tournament, would he regret destroying River City? Fighting to the death and offending people, all for a mere 10,000 gold dragons. If he came to the tournament, he would most likely be the champion, or at least a winner, gaining two River City!"
"Then we'll discuss it again when the King returns." Ed really wanted to punch Little Finger's mouth and knock out all his teeth. "Excuse me, gentlemen, I must take my leave now."
The four senior courtiers looked at Ed with disbelief. The Prime Minister's first emergency meeting had ended without any substantial progress?
This is truly one of a kind!
The people of the North are indeed notoriously difficult to get along with!
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Ed led three of his men out of the throne room and headed back to the Prime Minister's Tower.
At the gates of the Red Keep, a constant stream of carriages, oxcarts, guards, and attendants poured in, shouting, neighing, and bellowing, raising clouds of dust and creating a bustling, noisy marketplace.
This is a good thing; a large portion of the Duke of Renly's courtiers have returned, while the King is still somewhere having fun.
"Lord Ed, it seems you've taken the wrong path," a voice chuckled.
Ed turned around and saw Littlefinger with his arms crossed in front of his chest.
"Come with me, your wife is waiting for you." Littlefinger turned and walked away. "Don't hesitate. Hasn't Caitlin mentioned me to you? I'm her long-lost brother."
"What exactly do you mean?" Ed followed.
"Tell your henchmen not to come over, they'll attract attention. We need to avoid being seen, Lord Eddard. You're in King's Landing now, a place teeming with liars, villains, schemers, and informants; and every imaginable vice—treachery, cunning, betrayal, traps, humiliation, and all the vile qualities you can think of. Hurry up, don't you want to see your wife?"
"I can't believe you. My wife is in Winterfell."
"Oh, yes, you're absolutely right. Your wife is in Winterfell, but I know dark magic and have already turned her into my brothel. If you don't come, I'll take her. I mean what I say, so don't regret it! You know how I got the sword wound on my chest. It's from the duel I had with your brother over Catelyn. To be honest, I still can't forget Catelyn. She's the love of my life!"