"Euron?" Barristan pondered. "He seems to have control over Cersei now."
"Not just Cersei. The Small Council, the Red Keep, my Lion Helm Army, even the entirety of King's Landing are under his control." Jaime was heartbroken, barely able to conceal his grief and fury.
"The Lion Helm Army all comes from the Westerlands. It was personally forged by Duke Tywin, and the mid- to high-ranking officers are all Lannisters. How could they possibly have fallen into Euron's hands as well?" Old Barristan asked in disbelief.
Jaime gave a bitter smile. "The current commander of the Lion Helm Army is Titus Peake, my cousin's husband. He used to be reliable, but…
Sigh. He was captured at Dragonstone last time, and Daenerys demanded a ransom of five thousand gold dragons.
It was an unprecedented sum. I cannot recall anyone whose ransom was higher. Oh, except for the false Prince Aegon, whose ransom far exceeded Titus's.
But my cousin's husband is only a knight, not a king."
Old Barristan looked somewhat embarrassed. The Dragon Queen had indeed acted improperly back then.
"Her Grace was very angry. Dragonstone is the ancestral seat of House Targaryen, and yet Ser Peake stubbornly refused to surrender when her army approached the city.
In truth, she set such a high ransom because she knew Ser Peake could not afford it and intended to force him to take the black and serve on the Wall," he explained.
"It would have been better if he had joined the Night's Watch," Jaime sighed before continuing. "In any case, House Peake could not afford the five thousand gold dragons and had to borrow heavily.
Originally, when my uncle was ruling, he had promised that the Lannisters would cover the Peake family's losses.
But Cersei disagreed. She resented Titus for his incompetence and for making her lose face.
The Iron Throne took months to capture Dragonstone and lost thousands of men, yet he could not hold out for even a single day, nor did he inflict any real damage on Daenerys.
Later, my uncle died, and Cersei resumed the regency. Titus had no choice but to shoulder enormous debts, and his whole family struggled to survive."
"A man burdened with debt and resentment is far too easy to buy," Old Barristan said thoughtfully.
"There is more," Jaime continued. "Titus is a Reach noble. Now that Highgarden has fallen to the Ironborn and their power is on the rise while the Lannisters decline by the day, Titus understands the first rule of the game of thrones: always stand with the victor.
No player in the game is willing to lose.
Unfortunately, Cersei is not only foolish but also looks every bit a loser, and House Lannister has been losing year after year."
Old Barristan did not wish to comment on Cersei in front of Jaime and instead asked, "Titus is only the commander of the Lion Helm Army. Surely the mid-level officers still remain loyal to the Lannisters?"
"Unless Titus is willing to cooperate with me and use strategy to take down the Ironborn and Euron, there will inevitably be a bloody civil war in King's Landing.
Euron may suffer, but the Lannisters will certainly be wiped out.
In the last battle against the Golden Company, most of the Lion Helm Army's main force was slaughtered because of Euron's schemes. They are no match for the Ironborn now," Jaime said helplessly.
"Why did you suddenly disappear back then? If you had remained in King's Landing, none of this would have happened," Old Barristan asked in confusion.
Jaime lowered his eyes and answered vaguely, "I was fulfilling a promise I made years ago. And even if I had stayed in King's Landing, it would have been useless. Cersei never listened to me."
Cersei is a shameless liar. As far as I know, she has slept with Lancel, the Kettleblack brothers, and even Moon Boy.
For some reason, whenever he thought of Cersei in recent years, he would hear his dwarf brother's mocking laughter ringing in his ears like a curse.
Yes, it has now been confirmed that she indeed slept with her cousin Lancel and the Kettleblack brothers. Then was Moon Boy true as well?
A sharp pain twisted in Jaime's heart.
He had given everything for love. What had he gained in the end?
Seeing his darkened expression, Barristan changed the subject. "What happened to your leg?"
"It is crippled. Can't you see?"
"I know it is crippled, but why?"
"I returned to King's Landing several months ago. At that time, I planned to enter the Red Keep through the secret passage and kill Euron, to set everything back on the right track."
Jaime looked at Old Barristan's shocked, wide eyes and gave a careless smile. "That's right. Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen are all my children. You may curse me for incest.
But I want to tell you that you have no idea how difficult it was for Robert to survive until he was gored to death by a boar. Every time he climbed into Cersei's bed, he was standing at the gates of the seven hells.
I could not tolerate Robert. Do you think I would allow some bastard from the Iron Islands to toy with her at will?"
"And then? Were you discovered by the guards, or defeated by Euron?" Old Barristan asked with a frown.
"Sigh." Jaime closed his eyes and let out a long breath.
That sigh carried so much grievance and bitterness that the old knight felt an inexplicable sorrow.
"What happened?" he asked softly.
"I never even reached the Red Keep. Shortly after entering the secret passage, I had the good fortune to step into a trap.
A massive bear trap."
At that moment, the bone in my left leg snapped like a biscuit. When I lost my hand before, it did not hurt this much. The pain was so intense that I let out a miserable scream and fainted."
"You call that lucky?" Old Bar asked, baffled.
"That's right. If you knew there were killing pits, wildfire jars, and blood-sealing poison arrows in the secret passage, you would understand that stepping on a bear trap counts as luck." A trace of genuine relief appeared on Jaime's grimy, bearded face.
"I had no idea the secret tunnels of the Red Keep were so dangerous. I heard Varys often walked them, and Tyrion used them several times as well," Old Bar said in confusion.
"Sigh, Varys had his leg snapped by a trap too! He had it worse than I did. I was rescued by him not long after I fainted, but he lay deep in the tunnels howling for two days and two nights."
Thinking of Varys's misfortune, Jaime felt much better, and a faint smile crept onto his face.
"Who planted the traps?" Old Bar asked.
"After Tyrion left, my uncle Kevan had men set bear traps and dig pits in the tunnels. After Varys fell victim to them, they went even further and laid out even more terrifying and denser traps."
"You were meant to become Arthur Dayne, yet you lost your hand and foot in the most dishonorable and worthless way. This is the Seven's punishment for breaking your oath."
There was a faint trace of regret in Old Bar's blue eyes, but his tone was icy.
"Bullshit! If the Seven truly had spirits, they should have let me live whole and healthy, with everything I wished for, free from illness and disaster all my life. You have no idea what happened back then!" Jaime roared in anger, waving the stump of his right arm like a wooden stick.
Old Bar said sternly, "No matter what happened, you should never have killed the king you were sworn to protect. You stained the honor of the White Knight and shattered the faith of every knight in the Seven Kingdoms who pursues honor.
You must understand that the White Knight represents all knights of the Seven Kingdoms. He is the standard by which they measure their conduct.
As a White Knight, you broke your oath in the worst possible way. What you destroyed was not only the reputation of the White Knights and yourself, but also the faith of all knights in Westeros."
To ordinary knights and to Westeros, the White Knight is what a Confucian sage is to Confucian scholars and the ancient Celestial Empire.
"We haven't seen each other in years, and your eloquence has improved," Jaime said, sizing up the old knight with a strange look. "Back then you could only shout for me to take off the white cloak and put on black. Now, with a few righteous words, you lay the entire decay of Westeros at my feet. Impressive. I admire that."
"I have no interest in arguing with you. Winterfell has no need for a cripple who has lost his right hand and left foot. Leave." Old Bar turned his head and waved dismissively.
"A cripple?" Jaime's eyes flashed with anger. "Perhaps we can find a more spacious place and spar."
"You think I am so old I can no longer lift a sword? Back when you still had your hand and were not lame, were you my match?" Old Bar sneered.
"Heh, let's go try!"
"That fellow disappeared for two years and somehow trained an incredibly sharp left-handed sword. I thought he could still fight, so I brought him to Winterfell."
Two days later, Old Bar explained to the Dragon Queen.
"Let him come then. At least he represents the Lannisters of the West," Dany said, spreading her right hand to retrieve the burned, collapsing soul of a Child of the Forest into the Pool of Faith. With a flip of her hand, another raven landed in her palm. Flames surged and continued to scorch it.
Over the past few days, many people had arrived at Winterfell riding wyverns, but she had not received any of them. She had not even stepped outside, remaining in the guest castle to cultivate.
With divided focus, she burned ravens to comprehend creation within fire, while at the same time entering the "Source of the World" beneath the Wall with the little golden dragon spirit to practice the Song of Wind.
She had already burned through more than two hundred ravens, gaining fifty-three fire sprites. She was now turning the remaining ravens into marks of life.
The last time she burned A'Fu, it took more than half a month. This time, with over a hundred being burned in rotation, she estimated it would take about a month to finish.
By then, perhaps she would gain dozens more wind sprites.
Dany looked forward to it and was deeply immersed in her cultivation, so she paid little attention to trivial matters in Winterfell.
Seeing how indifferent the Dragon Queen was to Jaime's arrival, Old Bar hesitated before saying, "Jaime wishes to see you, for the sake of Lannister, and for Myrcella."
"Myrcella?" Dany frowned, then nodded helplessly. "Bring him here."
Jaime had thoroughly refreshed his appearance. His center-parted golden hair was groomed to a glossy sheen, his cheeks were clean-shaven, and the lines on his forehead and around his eyes only added a touch of mature steadiness, the bearing of a successful man.
Though he had lived a failed life, he did indeed look successful.
"You have quite the nerve, coming to Winterfell and daring to see me," Dany said lightly.
Dragging his lame leg, Jaime bowed to the Dragon Queen before lifting his head to study the woman before him. Silver hair, violet eyes, delicate features. He did not particularly care.
What surprised him was her bearing. There was no overbearing dominance; instead, she possessed a calmness, depth, and mystery that should not have belonged to a Targaryen.
Targaryens ought to be like wildfire, fierce and passionate, emotions laid bare. They might not move others, but they would certainly set themselves ablaze first.
"I am sorry, Your Majesty Daenerys. As the man who killed your daughter's father, and now a father to a pitiful girl myself, I feel deeply guilty.
But the man I killed was also a king, a king so desperate that he had lost his humanity and reason.
I do not regret it, and I can face anyone but you with a clear conscience." There was a trace of sincere guilt in Jaime's blue eyes, but the rest was unwavering resolve.
(ps: Jaime donned the white cloak at sixteen, becoming the youngest member of the Kingsguard. The Kingsguard of the Mad King's reign is considered the strongest in history, and among that legendary group of knights, Arthur Dayne stood above all.
At the time, however, everyone held Jaime in extremely high regard. Even his sworn brothers believed he would surpass his idol, Arthur Dayne.
The final outcome, however, is a sigh of fate's unpredictability.)
(End of chapter)
Want to read the chapters in Advance? Join my Patreon
https://patreon.com/Glimmer09