WILOW-Ch.407: The Hound
King's Landing, Crownlands
POV of Sandor Clegane
Sandor sat at the tavern and looked at the men running around in the streets like headless chickens.
A large number of smallfolk had already left the city, mainly because the food supply from the Reach was cut off.
The city didn't have much food left, and most of it had already been taken by the fuckers living in the bloody Red Keep.
He finished another mug of ale, sat back on his chair, and closed his eyes.
Seeing the fire burning in Kingswood brought more than a few bad memories, and he did not doubt that he would have nightmares if he slept now.
"More ale." He shouted at the tavern wench, "And some chicken too."
A few minutes later, the tavern wench came with another mug of ale that looked more like piss water than anything.
He glared at her, and she gave him an apologetic and somewhat fearful look. "We… don't have any chicken. Just some bread."
"Give me what you have." He grumbled.
A few minutes later, he had his bread. It was old and moldy.
He sighed and ate it with the ale, trying not to think about the memory of Gregor pushing his face in the fire and burning him and burning him and burning…
An unknown man entered the tavern and sat in front of him. He finished the mug of ale and glared at the man.
"The fuck do you want?" he asked.
The man looked straight into his eyes without any fear and said, "Tywin Lannister has been captured. His army was destroyed."
He blinked at that news.
"By whom?"
"Who do you think?" the stranger asked.
He remembered that the Bolton took over Casterly Rock, stole the Lannister gold, and took their women and children as hostages. Who else would Tywin go after?
"Bolton." He said.
The man nodded, "Yes. Lord Bolton defeated Lord Tywin on his own. Without the aid of any other army. The Lannister cause is finished."
It took some time for him to register those words.
As long as he could remember, he had been working for Tywin. A dog of the Lannisters. The Hound.
But now Tywin was defeated. No one would send reinforcements to this city. And Stannis Baratheon was coming.
"Fuck! Why the fuck are you telling me all this?" he asked.
The man shrugged, "You're a good fighter. One of the best out there, in fact. You could do some real good with some guidance."
He scoffed at the man, "Fuck you… and fuck your guidance."
He was about to leave when the man spoke once again, "I work for Emperor Domeric Bolton."
He paused and looked at the man.
"You remember Ser Barristan leaving Kingsguard?"
"Who the fuck doesn't?"
"Well, Ser Barristan now serves Emperor Domeric. He has good pay and good living conditions. But most of all, he has respect. Something that he didn't get here." The man said.
"I know that Ser Barristan serves your emperor. I can read and write. It has been written in the newspapers for a long time that Ser Barristan has entered the service of your emperor."
The man nodded and said, "King Joffrey's reign ended the moment Tywin Lannister lost. We both know that remaining here and fighting for a lost cause is a waste of your time and your life."
"So, you want me to go and suck your emperor's dick. Is that it?" he asked.
The man laughed and shook his head, "No. But I know that you won't remain here much longer. Not when the retard King and his bitch of a mother are going to end up dead anyway. And if you're going to leave anyway, then why not go and try to serve someone worth serving for once?"
He thought about those words for a moment and then sat back down in his chair.
"Tell me more." He said.
Then the man smiled, pulled a bottle of wine from his bag, and poured red wine into his mug until it was full.
Without thinking twice, he raised the mug and downed it.
The only drink he could find in King's Landing was the urine-like ale, and he was fed up with it.
He wasn't in a position to say no to a good wine.
But as the wine filled his mouth and went down his throat, his eyes widened. This was the best wine he had ever tasted.
"What the fuck… what kind of wine is this?"
"A new red wine he's made for Emperor Domeric," the man said, pushing the wine bottle toward him.
And as he refilled his mug, the stranger began to speak.
"Emperor Domeric is considering granting you the title of Imperial Knight directly. You'll be a knight directly loyal to the Empire, and therefore your salary will be higher than that of normal knights."
"Is that all? I heard Ser Barristan is the Commander of the so-called Round Table, and didn't your Emperor form a new knightly unit? The Dark Knights, right?"
"The Round Table is a council of knights tasked with advising the Emperor. To join this council, one needs not only a good reputation but also a strategic mind."
This fucking man truly angered him now. He couldn't tell if the man was trying to win him over or insult him.
"Are you saying I'm not smart enough?" he asked.
"I'm just saying that if you want to join the Round Table, you first need to prove yourself. Whether you can do that is up to you," the man said.
And he had no answer to that.
After all, he had worked as a dog for the Lannisters until now, and therefore couldn't exactly be said to have a good reputation or a bright head.
"And what about the Dark Knights? Do I need to prove myself to join them, too?" he asked.
He was more curious than eager to join. He was curious about the kind of knighthood this new emperor had established.
"Sort of. But for the Dark Knights, the most important quality is trust and loyalty. After all, their duty is to protect the Emperor Domeric and his loved ones."
"Really? Then I don't think I have a chance. Would your emperor trust someone who works as a dog for the Lannisters?"
"If he didn't trust you, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now, would we? Besides, Emperor Domeric seems to trust you more than you think," the man said.
"What the fuck does that mean?" he asked.
"In addition to making you an Imperial Knight, Emperor Domeric will also make you a Dark Knight candidate. You will serve under Dark Knight Commander Ser Varko for a certain period. And if Ser Varko deems it appropriate, you will permanently join the Dark Knight unit."
"Varko, huh? Well... it wouldn't be bad to be near Westeros's best swordsman and clash our swords from time to time. Besides, I've heard of your emperor's reputation. He's said to be quite generous about gold."
"You can be sure of that. Also, Emperor Domeric has a message he wants me to deliver to you."
"What is it?"
"The Emperor said that if you accept his offer, he can heal the wound on your face as if it never existed."
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Next Chapters' Name:
Ch.408: A Desired Death
Ch.409: Being Stuck in Between
Ch.410: Time to Head Towards King's Landing