Chapter 277

"In fact, Stannis thinks that besides himself, only his daughter remains, but that girl…… looks…… may the gods have mercy, letting her wisdom make up for the deficiency." the Grand Maester said slowly.

Jaime couldn't help but roll his eyes.

No one is interested in Stannis's remaining daughter, nor in Baratheon; they should have become trash and been swept into the garbage heap, only the Grand Maester, that old fogey, still thinks the Iron Throne belongs to that thing.

If he really opened his eyes and looked at the council of ministers before him, he would know that now only two surnames sit on the Iron Throne: Lannister and Tyrell; once Tommen grows big enough to have a child, everything about Baratheon will be finished.

To announce the arrival of a new era, he would rather Tommen and his rose wife change their surname to something not bastard-like, swapping in a fiercer beast to hang in the hall.

Damn, seeing the stag's banner still hanging on the Iron Throne makes him angry; he can't help imagining when a lion will bite off the stag's damned throat in one gulp, so it dies completely, cleanly.

Unfortunately, Stannis now firmly occupies Dragonstone Island, choking the eastward trade route from King's Landing; it's as correct as a bone in the throat, damn it, it's still unclear who's biting whose throat.

"May the gods bless her to be a fool, so when she grows up she won't suffer from her ugly face; that, damn it, is the gods' mercy." He played with the live ammunition in front of him with one hand, unable to figure out what this thing is actually good for.

"Regent, Your Highness, I say wisdom means being able not to, uh, not to feel pain because of appearance and such!" the Grand Maester still wanted to keep talking.

"I think you're really old and senile, forgetting that Stannis isn't here, and he on Dragonstone Island can't even hear your praises and blessings!" No wonder Cersei hates him so much.

"We were just talking about increasing the fiscal budget and appropriately increasing the Iron Throne's financial reserves to cope with wars that may break out at any time." Coben said calmly, bringing them back on track: "May I ask, Lord Swyft, just how much reserve wealth do you want the Iron Throne to have before you feel satisfied?"

That's what a minister should say.

"This…… naturally, the more the better."

"The more the better, and I also hope the gold of Casterly Rock can be more the better."

Jaime is utterly disappointed with this Iron Throne; he even occasionally feels that Lord Tywin insists on this broken chair because the chair owes his family too much, and even if it's hot he can't let go.

"Besides relieving the Iron Throne's debt to the Lannisters, during this time we, I mean the Lannisters and the Tyrells," Jaime looked toward the Tyrell lord, who seemed pleased with Jaime's mention of his achievement, and Jaime was happy to satisfy him on these small matters, "we have also provided a two million gold dragon subsidy, which barely convinced the greedy Iron Treasury to stop funding our enemies…… Of course there's no problem in investing in the Iron Throne, but everyone knows that if gold dragons can't buy bread, no amount of gold dragons is useful……" The following is important content; he could only look solemnly and respectfully toward the rose, and this had already been communicated, all that remained was for the rose to repeat her pledge in this council chamber: "Lord Tyrell, the Lannisters' accounts are already a mess, but fortunately the gold in the vaults is still lying there; I have already ordered Damion Lannister to have the miners double their efforts, to dig out another million gold dragons from the stone piles, to use for conscription, but……"

"Regent, Your Highness," the Tyrell lord suddenly stood up, cutting him off. The lord stroked his belly, twirled his little moustache, glanced around uneasily, then steeled his expression: "At this time of peril for the kingdom, the Tyrells naturally bear responsibility. I promise you that we will strive to provide food, weapons, armor, leather armor, and shields worth no less than one million gold dragons, and be responsible for transporting them to King's Landing so that your gold has something to buy." As he spoke the last sentence he smiled, not forgetting to gesture to the surrounding ministers and warriors, as if awaiting celebration. "We will also send smiths and craftsmen to use King's Landing's manpower to forge weapons for war. I believe that, united, we will surely defeat the treacherous enemies all around!"

Jaime wanted to applaud him, but unfortunately he only has his left hand, so he can't make a sound.

His regret doesn't end there.

If the Lannisters had been this generous earlier, the situation wouldn't have deteriorated to this point, and he would also have led the newly recruited ruffians and bandits in an attack on the so-called number one mercenary company, the Golden Company.

Heh, I really don't know how many idle loafers wandering King's Landing's streets could be pulled into the army with a million gold dragons, but no matter how many, it's completely worthwhile; otherwise, when things become uncontrollable, he would experience the bitter fruit of urban riots. He certainly doesn't want to learn from Rhaenyra's panicked flight from King's Landing.

This is a genuine clever move, proposed by the advisor and also intelligence chief Coben.

He finds it very reasonable. If, in advance, we take from King's Landing the most vigorous youngsters, the most vicious beggars, and the younger sons seeking fortune and advancement, then facing the left-behind women, children, and elderly who can't walk, even the weak gold cloaks can become upright and strong, ensuring the safety of the little king, the pretty little queen, and other noble households.

If this band of ruffians could become brave and adept at war, that would be an extra gain; however, this is something even the gods cannot accomplish.

He would love to throw the problem of training soldiers onto the able-bodied hunters, and at the same time let this general who kills without blinking deal with the disobedient ruffians; however, the Lannisters' money will not help the Tyrells buy an army.

In fact, he has already found the commander for this army built from ruffians: none other than Davon Lannister, ransomed from Gulltown.

Perhaps sending this cousin a gang of ruffians would mean his whip lashes less often on prostitutes' buttocks.

Since returning to King's Landing and being stripped of the office of Warden of the West, he has become morose, spending all day with fine wine and beautiful women.

Damn, Jaime has also considered such days, but everyone constantly focuses their gaze and hopes on him; he truly can't express bravery, wisdom, and reliability by drinking with dry women and being morose, and obviously his left-handed sword and repeated oaths obviously haven't reached the level to prove those qualities.

Thinking of this, he just wants to sigh. Nowadays relatives are fewer and fewer, and those usable are even fewer; so he hopes Davon will better put his energy into revenge sooner rather than later.

"It's obvious that both the Lannister and Tyrell families are very generous," at this moment Lord Tali broke the silence, "but I know we can't stay generous forever. Now the situation is chaotic; when we have enough troops, where should we strike? In other words, are we waiting to die in this foul-smelling city, or should we choose to fight?"

"Speaking of this, as intelligence chief, I must remind everyone that the Targaryen dragon queen has utterly destroyed or conquered the Three Sisters city-states; it's easy to imagine she will soon set foot on the Seven Kingdoms, claiming her father's rights. She brings at least thirty thousand Dothraki cavalry, six thousand Unsullied, and countless newly formed troops from freed slaves, besides that she also has three dragons."

"How terrifying, but before she comes to King's Landing, I hope she first thinks it was Stannis who killed her mother, not that I slaughtered her mad father. As for the dragons everyone fears, let me think: during the Field of Fire, how old were Aegon and his sisters' three dragons?"

"Each one is far older than its master, while this little Targaryen girl's dragon is too small, at most just a fire‑spitting bird," Lord Tali said solemnly, "to prevent this, you should better allocate part of that one million gold dragons to forge crossbow bolts for shooting big birds. As for her savages—the Tyrell family will not let barbarians and alien bastards set foot on the Seven Kingdoms and rule them."

"I think the Lannisters feel the same way." Jaime truly admired Lord Tali, and thus turned his gaze to Mace Tyrell.

In his brief moment of loss, he quickly steadied his answer: "The Tyrells are of course the same."

"Good." For Jaime, confirming this is vitally important; he won't forget the feeling of stabbing Aerys, nor expect others to forget—removing the Targaryens is not just his concern; the Lannister family also faces ruin, which is his top priority: "Since the impostor claims to be Rhaegar Targaryen's son, he will likely end up marrying his own aunt. To prevent Storm's End from becoming the dragon queen's landing site, we must take Storm's End."

"I have to say, Storm's End is a sturdy fortress, hard to breach." the Grand Maester uttered useless remarks.

"If it's a fortress, it wouldn't fall into the impostor's hands." Jaime looked at Coben, "Speaking of which, how did Storm's End suddenly get captured?"

"The Golden Company isn't all warriors; there's also a batch of small fellows like monkeys, they slipped through Storm's End's narrow passages, under cover of night opened the gate; Ser Gilbert Farring's garrison was too few to resist the Golden Company members lying in ambush outside. That's why Storm's End fell. However, I suspect this impostor won't forget to defend against such small folk."

"But we must take Storm's End." Jaime insisted, Lord Tali nodded at the right moment, and then the lord himself nodded doubtfully. Jaime clapped the table with his good hand. "You see, once you know the key, you know what the next step is."