Chapter 8: The Florian of the Crownlands

Sunlight descended from the high hills, and the world gradually returned to night. Save for the distant glow of the Red Keep, the surroundings had stepped into boundless darkness. He liked the darkness; if he could, drinking heavily in the dark would please him even more. The night belonged solely to him; he did not have to perform reluctant shows, nor did he have to grin foolishly under the contemptuous mockery of others. After a skin of wine, even a dim, grassy hut could feel as comfortable as a king's chambers. The night understood him best.

Most of the time, the day was not to his liking. The day would mock him; what people saw was a fat, trembling, failed man, a comical figure who had turned from a knight into a fool.

Being mocked was, after all, the fool's duty, he thought occasionally. If he had been raised as a fool after being brought to King's Landing, he should feel happy now. A fool's work was simple. After these days, he felt comically that he actually possessed a great talent for being a clown. To make the hall laugh, he didn't even need to try; his face shape and his every gesture were fodder for others' amusement. Yet, he had entered King's Landing basking in the glory of the great white knight, Ser Barristan. Now that Ser Barristan had left King's Landing, he too had reached the bottom of his life.

He was Dontos. The only thing that could make him comfortable was the empty night, and it would be even better if the gods hadn't inflicted pain. But the gods were always cruel; headaches were constant companions, and only alcohol could provide slight relief.

For the sake of the night, for the sake of the pain-relieving wine, all the comical efforts of the day were worth it. And if his purse was empty and he had obtained nothing, then the old man Selmy would appear in his dreams, silently rebuking him, impossible to shake off. At other times, the long-gone Darklyn and Hollard would appear, as if the decline of their houses were all his responsibility.

This night, there was nothing. He hated this situation and hoped that random thoughts would let him fall asleep quickly; if the old man insisted on appearing in his dreams, there was nothing he could do. The great white knight, Ser Barristan Selmy, had saved him when he was young, even though he had almost forgotten him in the years that followed. This was a good thing; he had turned from a knight into a fool, and Ser Selmy would not know that before the King stripped him of his knighthood, the King had already taken back Ser Selmy's white cloak. In his flight, he had surely promised not to remember the child he had once saved, right?

He had once thought of ways to help him, even to die for such a heroic figure, but how could the great Selmy need help from a little knight like him? His problems were too difficult, his enemies too powerful, and his mistakes too early and too deep.

Ser Selmy was always doing the wrong thing, he thought. A great white-cloaked knight should not serve a rebellious new monarch, nor should he waste his brilliance in the mediocrity of a new era. Look at what kind of idiots his colleagues were now! His mistakes were even more long-term; he shouldn't have saved that cruel King at all, nor should he have saved a child destined to become a fool! This poor, innocent child should have gone to meet the gods along with his father, siblings, and the lords they served, rather than living here incompetently and humbly, relying on a bit of wine to get through difficult nights, and feeling guilty for being too weak to repay the debt of gratitude.

The gods were so cruel, letting him survive the Defiance of Duskendale, survive the cruel rule of the Mad King, survive the massacre in King's Landing, and survive the edge of death after being drunk. Surviving was even crueler, with endless pain. He wished the gods would tell him the reason for such an arrangement. He closed his eyes and began to recall uncontrollably, hoping these memories would lead him into dreamland.

He remembered the sight of charred corpses being carried out of the Red Keep, and the smell. When they were alive, every identity was noble—Hands of the King, high ministers of the court—and he would have felt honored even to catch a glimpse of them from afar. But after they were charred, they all looked exactly the same, and the smell was the same too. He had carried many; this work was so shameful, but these experiences in his youth increased his knowledge.

If a person was burned very badly, their height, weight, or attire before death would make no difference to how they looked afterward. But if they were only half-burned or contained within a vessel like armor, it was terrifying. He still remembered the scene of carrying the corpses of the Starks, father and son. The father's flesh had been roasted inside his armor, while the steel remained well-preserved in the wildfire. The direwolf engraved upon it was covered in charred ash, as if it were a roasted wolf feast for the King, emitting an embarrassing odor. He remembered his companion Ilyn's words as they carefully carried the body out: "Don't move it around, look how perfectly roasted and crispy it is!" But during the transport, they couldn't help but bump it, and the metal armor tore away the adhered, cooked skin and flesh, revealing pink... which had absolutely nothing to do with being crispy. He remembered his companion complaining about why they were carrying the father instead of the son. He had seen the son; the son's corpse was perfectly intact, not burned, so there was no need to worry about the body falling apart during transport. The son also had no smell, but his death mask was a hundred times more terrifying than his father's. Poor Starks; they must not know that in just over a dozen years, another pair of Stark father and son had now also been beheaded. This time, he didn't have the chance to carry the corpses. The father's head had been hung on the Red Keep some time ago, and the son's head was also treasured, occasionally brought out to entertain the King, while his body had been sewn with a wolf's head and displayed on the roads of the Riverlands to passersby.

Dontos felt that if one looked at the treatment received by the two pairs of Stark father and son, compared to Aerys, the current little King was already quite benevolent. After all, he was still young and lacked experience in creating cruelty and fear; he was by no means unfathomable, at most acting on impulse—though often enough to make people look sideways, for instance, the time he forced wine down his throat—but it was not as deep, well-prepared, and capable of making those around him suffer together as the Mad King. He had seen the Lannister white cloak clench his sword hilt so hard that the decorative gems left his hand covered in blood from this pain.

He also remembered the scene of the Lannister army burning, killing, and looting when they entered King's Landing. At that time, he was just a little squire. With the city guards short-handed, he was driven onto the city walls to shoot soft, weak arrows. He remembered his superior, Ser Alliser Thorne, shouting frantically at him while defending the city, cursing him with every word he could think of. If it weren't for enduring Ser Alliser Thorne's scoldings, he would certainly not be able to face the mockery around him today, he thought. The gods did not favor those who spoke evil words.

Dontos felt that Ser Alliser was a resilient man who liked to twitch the corners of his mouth in a smile, but most of the time he was a frantic devil. He seemed to hate everything about Dontos, especially his surname. If not for the shortage of defenders, he felt Alliser would have pushed him off the city walls to become a puddle of rotten meat. Facing the rebellion of the entire kingdom, everyone knew that the fall of King's Landing was inevitable, but Ser Alliser would never give up, and even at the most difficult moment, he did not stop insulting him. Dontos felt he was a complete bastard. When the defenders opened the city gates and surrendered to Tywin, Tywin did not keep his promise; he unleashed his mad dogs to tear at the families of his old friends and dealt cruelly with all the officers and soldiers who had been disrespectful to him during the defense. Everywhere in the streets were screams under the lion's claws and helpless flight, blood and fire. Compared to the slaughter and beheading in Duskendale, this time it was more chaotic and lasted longer.

The cruelty of the lions, he had already understood and experienced in Duskendale, but Ser Alliser just couldn't recognize this point. After the city fell, he still wore his hatred on his face, his amber eyes trying to nail everyone to the wall. In the end, the lion gave him a choice: die or take the black. He chose the black. He, Dontos, was smaller and more humble; more importantly, he knew how to perform cowardice and submission. At that time, he was energetic, full of passion and wisdom, and had no inexplicable headaches. He knew he wasn't spared because of cowardice and submission. His physique was larger and stronger than it was in Duskendale, but... his armor had been through battles, yet there wasn't a single scratch on it. The master's wisdom or his perfectly timed cowardice had protected it and the crest upon it well. The old lion must remember.

I am an orphan from Duskendale, a remnant of King Aerys's traitors, an ignorant child saved by Ser Selmy, and also a male survivor under the lion's previous blade. With the change of dynasties, the innocence of the old dynasty's seeds was self-evident; he was spared from having to make a choice like Ser Alliser.

He also remembered the situation when he followed the fleet with Prince Stannis of Dragonstone to conquer Great Wyk. The Goodbrother family of Great Wyk hid their last army on Naga's Hill, tightly guarding every entrance to the causeway leading to the Hall of the Grey King. After exhausting all the wildfire, Stannis ordered a frontal assault, and he, as one of the first soldiers to attack, launched an assault on the causeway. Under the King's banner, the army's morale was high, successfully breaking through the causeway's defensive position and charging into the inner line. Ser Piper, Bald Follard, and Strong Ox Hal who were with him all died in battle, while he killed Dagon Goodbrother in the chaos, only to be hit by a stray arrow. In pain, he rolled off the throne room, fell off the cliff, and was luckily caught by pine branches. When the battle ended and the battlefield was cleared, he was finally discovered. But by then, not only was Dagon Goodbrother's death wrongly recorded under someone else's name, but he also missed the chance for Stannis to knight him as a hero. When he could finally get out of bed to claim his honor, there was no one left to prove his merits, and the knight he served had also died on the battlefield. "Liar"—this almost became his nickname; no one believed he had fought bravely. Just when he thought he would carry this dishonorable nickname for the rest of his life, Stannis ordered the maester to investigate him. When he recounted the names of his fallen comrades one by one, Stannis drew his sword and knighted him before the legendary Grey King's throne on Naga's Hill. "Dagon Goodbrother died directly from losing his head, and the splashing blood stained the pillars, so we judged that he did not die from a sword through the chest. Although there were wounds on his chest and abdomen, they were rotted beyond recognition, making it impossible to prove that you dealt him the fatal blow, so I cannot give you this honor."

Although he lost the greatest merit, the individually bestowed knighthood still made him feel immensely proud. The Prince's eccentric personality only added to the value of this honor.

He also remembered the day he lost his knighthood. At first, he thought it was a lucky day. To celebrate the little King's name day, the noble gave every castle guard a large bag of red wine, bulging and full. But what he felt was lucky was that he didn't have to be on duty in the palace—they, who were responsible for palace security, had been replaced by Gold Cloaks, and an order from Rubio, the head of the palace guard, freed him from his duties. He knew the rumors now, saying he had gotten dead drunk during the tournament, angering the little King, who turned him from a knight into a fool. The little King liked cruel tournament performances, but what did that have to do with him? He was only responsible for shouting "Long live the King!"

But the problem arose right there. There were too few hedge knights participating in the comical tournament, far fewer than the one held when the little King's father was still King, so Lord Janos Slynt proposed that knights from the city defense participate to bolster the tournament's prestige. At this point, the lucky day began to change. He was pulled up from his drunken sleep to participate in the absurd, temporarily organized tournament as a temporary contestant; he didn't even know his opponent. Only after he was completely sober did he understand that this was cruel fodder added by some cruel adult to cater to the King's cruel temperament. He was merely a carelessly chosen target.

He didn't know where Sansa Stark found the courage to defy Joffrey's order at that time. Although she was the King's nominal fiancée, anyone with a brain would understand that she could no longer become the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Moreover, she was often beaten by his superiors, the white-cloaked Kingsguard. Anyone with a memory would not be so reckless. He was saved by Sansa Stark's reckless kindness, just as the reckless Ser Selmy had saved him from the Defiance of Duskendale.

Last time he turned from a child into an orphan; this time he turned from a knight into a fool. He was both a fool and a knight; the combination of the two made him the King of Fools, unparalleled. Some good adult once told him that in the Seven Kingdoms, he was the only person who had been both a knight and a fool. He forgot; there was also Florian. Dontos the knight would argue with him, but Dontos the fool would not. This record was not glorious.

He also remembered, in the Battle of the Blackwater...

Just as he continued to recall, an inexplicable feeling made him open his eyes. He looked toward the exit, only to see a shadow appear, as if it had been standing at the door for a long time. When the shadow noticed that Dontos had noticed him, he spoke.

"As a fool, this room is good enough, but as a former knight, it is shabby and crude. There isn't even a proper lock." Polite people wouldn't start with this, he thought.

He had long been living in conspiracies and was not prepared to talk, so he looked at the shadow like a foolish fool. If the light had been better, he would have let the other party see his confusion and that stupid, dull face waiting foolishly, but the darkness didn't give him many chances.

"Perhaps you still want to drink." This voice revealed playfulness. He was very familiar with this tone; there were always people showing off in front of him, and there were always people who thought he would give up everything for wine. "Here, you will definitely like this." A wine skin was thrown over, and he caught it just in time with nimble yet dull movements.

"You, you are?"

"Hehe. You will know eventually." He left, as if he had never appeared. Except for the wine skin in his hand and the lingering sound in the air, nothing was left.

He shook the wine skin and pulled out the stopper. It was Dornish red wine; he understood immediately. Without hesitation, he took a sip, then another. Goodbye, Ser Barristan; don't come to disturb me tonight.

The shadows and footsteps gradually faded away, beating a rhythmic tempo, as if reminding him that it hadn't just been a dream.

Heh, think I care who he is? I don't care, not even a little bit. Self-righteous people think they are very important, but I have already passed that stage.

Two days later, on the night he finished the last drop in the wine skin, the shadow appeared at the door again, just like a few days ago. This time, the figure said nothing, flicking out a coin that clicked and hummed. Dontos performed like a magic trick, cupping his hands together, and this comical look made the shadow chuckle. This was his fool's talent.

A silver stag; he didn't need to check. A silver stag was enough to trade for several skins of wine and several roasted chickens. But he was a little disappointed; he was the heir to the ancient House Hollard, the master of the non-existent Hollard Castle. What kind of overconfident person would try to bribe him with a silver coin?

Am I a fool? Heh, despise me, despise me.

But he still showed a very satisfied look. This satisfied look made the visitor even more satisfied. His second visit was just like his first.

Waiting and counting made him tired. A stranger could come a first time, a second time, and could come a third time until the seventh. There was a task waiting for this fool, and he didn't reject tasks.

The third time, the visitor brought him a gold dragon. In the dimness, a gold dragon was no different from a silver coin, only the clicking sound was deeper and not as loud as the silver coin. The fourth time, the visitor sent him a skin of wine, a skin of golden wine from the Arbor, better than the Dornish wine, just as a gold coin was better than a silver coin. The fifth time, the visitor threw him a bracelet made of gold. Every time he would ask who you are, but the visitor would always chuckle, not replying, playing the mystery to the hilt.

The heaviness of the gold made the blood vessels in his brain throb, very different from the past. He remembered accidentally hearing a commoner selling sesame cakes boasting to others, "As long as my crotch is a bit damp, it will definitely rain the next day," and everyone laughed, but he continued incessantly, "If it's slightly damp, it will only drizzle; if it's very damp, it will rain heavily; if the dampness makes my cock very itchy, the drizzle will continue, and it must rain for a full day and night." Someone laughed and cursed him for slandering the gods. But Dontos didn't dare to easily deny it; he also had his own secret summary. Whenever the blood vessels in his brain twitched, it would definitely rain the next day; the more intense the throbbing and the more painful the head, the more tragic the death the next day would be. And ever since King Robert died, the throbbing of his blood vessels had become very frequent and intense, and increasingly unbearable. In the dark, Dontos just knew his death was approaching! He could even see the Stranger accompanying him.

He had been expecting the Stranger to officially come to the door.

When the stranger came to the door for the sixth time, he brought roasted chicken, gold coins, and a wine skin. He knew that if this were a religious person, he would come one last time, but he didn't need to be so confident. The Dontos people thought of—the muddled Dontos, the wine-barrel Dontos, the fool Dontos—would not remember how many times the stranger had come, but the real Dontos remembered everything.

"Excuse me, excuse me, I am very grateful for the gifts you sent, please let me know how I should repay you!"

"Hehe, there will be a chance, perhaps very soon."

The seventh time, he received a badge, the shape of a castle, with a crown made of gold inlaid on the side, and stripes of red copper and silver; the mottled gray traces told of the little trinket's antiquity. He had seen this thing when he was a child; his grandfather often pinned it to the chest of his long coat. Ever since his grandfather passed away, he had never seen this accessory again, and with the destruction of Hollard Castle and his family, this thing had also lost its meaning.

He was a little lost. No matter how this stranger wanted to use him, the gold paid and the unique gift deliberately sought out already showed enough sincerity. He clutched the little trinket tightly in his hand, and pain, regret, and pity rolled in his heart. A healthy Dontos would have used it even as a fool; a dying Dontos holding it would only feel shame and remorse.

"This, this, my lord, I didn't expect it, truly grateful!" He braced himself with a smile, expressing his thanks to the visitor.

"I am no lord. Hehe, a real lord might have use for you." The stranger was as always, refusing to reveal any information.

Dontos didn't feel he had any value to be used, but the price paid by the visitor had long exceeded the limit that a fool could repay with effort. He was very sure.

The next day, after ending a ridiculous day, when he was struggling to swallow wine with the wine skin, a shadow appeared at the door again. This shadow was more upright, but his stature was much smaller.

"Dontos, do you like the gift I prepared for you? To be honest, that badge has been in my collection for a long time, and I think you are the only one it suits." This voice was not unfamiliar.

"Oh, Lord Baelish." He squeezed out a wine burp. "I don't know, you, I am very happy to serve you."

"I believe you can serve well. I sent gifts seven times, but I haven't heard any rumors about you receiving mysterious gifts among the fools and clowns." He laughed softly. "This is very good; secrets are everything in King's Landing."

"Yes, my lord. If you have any orders, I will certainly complete them for you with all my heart."

"I will be leaving King's Landing soon, and I need to leave eyes in King's Landing, but what eyes could be better than a fool? Or, do you still think you are a knight?"

"No, my lord, oh, I mean, I am not a knight; my knighthood has already been stripped by King Joffrey." Your eyes are about to die, so hurry up and cast the bait.

"King Joffrey stripped you of your knighthood; don't you hate him? He even wanted to kill you."

"This, this is my fault, my lord, the King, it was I who annoyed the King, and the King spared me."

"Hehe. It was Sansa Stark who saved your life." He stared at him and smiled, as if the two had already reached an agreement. "I am going to the Eyrie to marry the widow of Lord Arryn, Lysa Tully, but that woman said that to marry her, I must agree to one condition, which has given me a big problem." Dontos hated his unfathomable smile.

"This? May I ask, my lord, what can I do for you?" Lysa is your bitch; to marry, you can agree to a pile of conditions, even flying under the Bloody Gate.

"Lysa Tully is Catelyn Tully's own sister. When they were young, they had an extremely good relationship. Now that Catelyn was killed by the Freys at the Red Wedding, Lysa is heartbroken and determined to save Catelyn's only remaining daughter. My problem is that she insists I bring her back to the Eyrie, otherwise she'll make me crawl back to Harrenhal—heh, that place isn't even as good as the Fingers." He deliberately cut off his words and paused. Dontos knew he was observing and scrutinizing. "This daughter is Sansa Stark, who saved your life. I want you to assist me in stealing this dowry."

Steal the most important hostage of the Lannisters? If he had this ability, he might as well take this girl directly back to Winterfell and then rebuild Hollard Castle in the North.

"I have been looking for an opportunity to repay, but?"

"You don't think you can do it alone! I need you to first gain Sansa Stark's trust and teach her to be obedient. She saved you, so she must be willing to trust you, and your unique status allows you to enter and exit the palace freely. Without you, I can't just grab her and put her in a box; after all, she has legs and a good voice."

"This, this, but, if it fails, or if the Iron Throne finds out?"

"I don't know when you became loyal to the person currently sitting on the Iron Throne, or did I misjudge you?"

He knew the correct answer. "No, my lord, I have never sworn an oath to the current Iron Throne. But you, my lord?"

"Me? With the love of a Duke's daughter and a Duchess, what is the reward of the Iron Throne?" He smiled brightly, as if this were a stupid question. "I will be leaving soon, and others will naturally explain the details to you, but first, you must approach Sansa and gain her trust. Can you do it?"

He agreed to this task almost immediately. He just knew that his life would not end in mediocrity, suffering from illness in some corner of King's Landing.

A few days later, he knew all his roles: present his "ancestral" sapphire necklace to Sansa Stark, request her to wear it at the King's wedding, take her away from the scene in the chaos, bring her to the seaside through a familiar route, and send the target to a boat waiting in the designated direction. Then, according to their arrangement, he would receive one hundred gold dragons and a house across the Narrow Sea, enough to live a good life.

It was impossible to complete the plan alone; he needed a friend with a boat and enough trust to help him. Fools had no friends; Dontos, who had once been a knight, had many, but none of them had boats. However, the problem was not here; the real problem was that if they disdained to be friends with a fool, they obviously could not be entrusted with this dangerous and unknown-reward task.

The difficulties and goals before him burned like fire, as if his whole life had been waiting for this moment.

"Think of a way, think of a way." Dontos scratched his hair, hoping inspiration could suddenly be born from the pain, but his mind was blank, and the simple room and the fool's hood mask mocked his overconfidence. He had no choice but to swallow two mouthfuls of red wine and leave the room.

The poor of Flea Bottom wouldn't mock him, the fishermen at Mud Gate didn't care about him, and if he wanted a boat, especially a cheap one, there was no better place than the Fisherman's Square. On the beaches on both sides of the Blackwater, Stannis had left a large number of shipwrecks and wooden masts; the armor, swords, and other valuable items in the ships had been looted at the first opportunity, and now, even these broken woods were being calculated by fishermen and shipwrights. If there was a boat at a reasonable price here, Dontos would consider buying one; it didn't need to be a big ship, just enough to cross Blackwater Bay would be enough; he didn't have many gold dragons.

"A small boat, doesn't need to be as big as your sister Mei Stark's, doesn't need to be equipped with excellent sailors, doesn't need to cross the Summer Sea or the Jade Sea, and doesn't even need to cross the Narrow Sea."

Passing through several hidden tents, he changed his attire several times until he thought he looked enough like a merchant buying a boat before appearing in the westernmost market again. He asked dozens of captains about buying a boat; most drove him away directly, and a few quoted him prices that were too high. When he was exhausted and ready to give up, an old boat owner began to sincerely introduce his broken fishing boat. He boarded its deck with the idea of taking a look, if there was a deck here. Inside the cabin, it was already full of a shallow layer of water; he didn't know if the boat would suddenly sink into the deep bay on the sea. The sails were not unfurled, and even when folded, one could see they were tattered; Dontos doubted if this sail could hold up. Everything about this broken boat indicated its antiquity.

The old man introduced the boat's history and all its advantages like an enthusiastic merchant. Dontos could tell that he had many stories with this boat, and could also tell that he was tired of working at sea and now just wanted to sell it and go ashore.

He explained the fake purpose to the old man; the old man nodded and promised, and tried to unfurl the sail, but the boat's mast suddenly snapped, and if it weren't for the old man's agility, it would have almost killed him. The old man was terrified and then sighed; to show he wasn't deliberately trying to deceive Dontos, he began to tell him about his own unlucky life. Although Dontos was impatient, he also lamented his encounter: his eldest son dreamed of becoming a knight but fell off his horse the first time he mounted, becoming a cripple, and now worked as a helper for others with meager income; the second son died of a cold just after reaching adulthood; the third son went to sea with him in his teens but fell into the sea and had his brain damaged by the boat; his wife had to give this son to the Stranger; the eldest daughter married early but became a widow early, bringing a son, and was swept out by her mother-in-law; the second daughter disappeared at the market in her teens, and his wife fell ill from worry and then died. The youngest son was finally stuffed into the stable to be a groom, but was accidentally cut in half by the Mountain at the tournament; the youngest daughter was now selling abalone at home; he hadn't gone to see her, but it was said that the men coming in and out to buy fish could line up from the Gate of the Gods to the Mud Gate...

Dontos had no patience to listen to his unlucky history. Just as he was about to leave, a middle-aged man with a rough face walked over. He immediately understood that this was the old man's eldest son. The middle-aged man walked on the bumpy boat with only a slight limp; Dontos felt that if this was also a cripple, he could be called a lame man.

"My lord." The middle-aged man gave Dontos a standard salute, then turned to look at the broken mast and said to his old man, "The inside has been rotted by insects. Father, we should really thank the gods that this unlucky thing didn't happen at sea. There are many broken boats on the shore; I'll go see if I can find a suitable mast to replace it. You clean up and saw off this broken one; when I come back, we'll row the boat away. We can't afford this berth fee..." He came quickly and left quickly.

"If Gander hadn't fallen and been injured, perhaps he really could have become a knight." The old man was dejected. Magically, Dontos also agreed.

"Indeed."

Leaving the old man, Dontos was in a state of confusion. When he was ready to return before the city gates closed, a sneaky young man grabbed his hem and signaled him to talk in the tent nearby.

"I heard you wanted to buy a boat, so I followed you." The young man was at most fifteen or sixteen years old; his voice was rough as if he were changing, and a light downy beard hung on his lips. He had black hair and strong limbs, but he didn't look handsome; he was a proper young man.

"Hmm?" This wasn't someone deliberately sent to investigate his news; he understood immediately.

"You want to buy a boat, but it looks like you are obviously not a boat person. I was thinking, you, you must need a suitable captain, hmm, or sailors, or a seaman to check the quality of the ship? I grew up on a boat since I was a child, and I can do everything from handling the boat and raising the sails to recognizing stars and identifying reefs."

"I won't trust a stranger." Dontos immediately liked this young man.

"I have sworn never to betray trust; this is the foundation of my survival in King's Landing. I have worked on the 'Joyful Mermaid' and the 'Lysene Brothers', and before that, I always helped on my family's passenger and cargo fishing boat. I assure you, I am a qualified sailor, even a captain." The young man was beaming, and the strange courage intertwined with confidence and worry made Dontos immensely envious.

The foundation of survival in King's Landing was pretending to be stupid and lying. "Perhaps you have skills, but why should I trust you? I have never seen you before today."

"My lord, I am the son of a knight, and I am willing to swear to you in my father's name that I am worthy of trust." Oaths were never reliable; he remembered Tywin's oaths, remembered King Aerys's oaths.

"Since you are the son of a knight, why didn't you become a squire?"

"My father died too early, and there was no such opportunity. Besides, I still have to support my younger brother, younger sister, and mother."

"Your name?"

"Florian Jones."

"Your brother's name? Sister's name, mother's name?" He asked quickly.

"Floren Jones, Ali Jones, and Mary Hoggett." Dontos had no choice but to believe. He couldn't say his parents' names in a single breath. "Hehe, my father was Stephen Jones; he once served as a mercenary knight for the Hogg family, and the Hogg family was loyal to the House Hardy."

Dontos only felt that everything was absurd; their fathers had the same name, and not only that, the boy's name... He gripped his wrist, marveling at the arrangement the gods had made for him.

"Perhaps you are indeed suitable to be a sailor or captain, but I don't have a boat."

"I know you need a passenger and cargo ship that can sail in Blackwater Bay. Perhaps you can try to buy the 'Joyful Mermaid'; I guess as long as you can come up with thirty gold dragons, the Brown-Bearded boat owner will definitely be willing to sell. Although this boat is old, it is enough to serve you for several years."

"It seems you had this plan from the beginning. I believe if I buy it, I won't have to worry about recruiting sailors, right?" If this was the gods' arrangement.

"Yes, if you arrange for me to be the captain. I can recruit loyal and reliable sailors for you; you can let them sail wherever you want, even to the lost lands of Valyria." The boy finally let go of everything and smiled.

Yes, that was to sail to the lost lands. "Tomorrow, two hours before the city gates close, wait for me here." Now, he needed to find a way to make the boy willing to take risks for him, but caution was his habit.

King's Landing was becoming increasingly crowded, and the attention of the lords had long turned to security and reception; no one really needed a fool. To scrape together the funds to buy the Joyful Mermaid, Dontos changed his attire several times, sold his armor and sword on Steel Street, sold gold rings and other items on Silk Street, and combined with his savings over the years and the "first installment" deposit for this dangerous operation, he barely scraped together fifty gold dragons.

He found the old man he saw yesterday again. What attracted him was not the old man's unlucky experience, but his crippled son whose knightly dream had not been realized. He returned to the boat's original berth, but the boat clearly parked at the berth was another, larger one. Turning around and searching for a circle, he didn't find the father and son. Dontos was helpless and had to ask around, finally seeing them on the riverbank upstream of the Blackwater, where a mast had been re-erected on their broken boat.

"Lord Gander." Dontos greeted the old man, but his words were directed at his son.

"My lord. Our boat hasn't been repaired yet. The mast has been soaked in water for too long and is no longer usable."

The mast Dontos saw was perfect.

"This was added temporarily; we are preparing to find a sturdier one for it." The old man saw Dontos's confusion.

"I understand. Lord Gander, I heard your father say that you dreamed of becoming a knight." Dontos felt that these words should be said to the boy, not this middle-aged cripple Gander. "Speaking of which, it's very presumptuous. I have a deal; if it can be completed, I think you will definitely be able to realize your wish."

"This, my lord, you are joking; I am just a fisherman." Gander was very cautious.

"I have decided to buy the 'Joyful Mermaid', and I hope you can serve as my boatswain to ensure that my boat can sail according to my will and correct the captain's mistakes in a timely manner under appropriate circumstances. As long as you can do as I instruct, as long as you can complete the task, your dream will definitely be realized. If you have any interest in my presumptuous words, I hope you will still be here at this time tomorrow; at that time, I will tell you everything honestly." Dontos understood the meaning of a knight, and he hoped Gander could understand as well.

He learned from the shadow and threw out a silver coin; this was the deposit. And Gander was more agile than him.

He changed into a merchant's attire, a look he didn't recognize himself, and his joyful belly gave him enough confidence. At the appointed time, according to Florian's guidance, he communicated with the Brown-Bearded boat owner about buying the boat. The boat owner readily sold the boat, including various goods and cargo not yet sold in the boat; Dontos paid a total of thirty-nine gold dragons. For the ship registration, he paid another seven silver stags to hang Florian's name, and paid an extra few silver stags for the three or four sailors he hired.

"Tomorrow, I will send my steward to board the ship, and he will serve as the boatswain." He just knew Gander would agree.

The next day, Gander was indeed waiting in the original place, but his father was not there. Dontos walked into the cabin with him.

"My lord, I don't know if I should trust you." People who hang around the Fish Market Street usually don't talk like this. Dontos decided to push again.

"You can trust me; I swear by the honor of my family, and I swear by the Seven I believe in. You must understand that lords and knights will not knight new knights for trivial matters. Although commoners can be knighted for brave fighting and witty assistance, you are no longer suitable for gaining honor in battle, so you can only rely on witty actions. In the Seven Kingdoms, there are many commoner knights who have been knighted; you will definitely be able to find suitable examples."

"Witty actions, my lord, is it smuggling? It's simple for us to sail to the destination, but it's difficult to bypass the port inspection."

"It is smuggling, but there is no need to bypass the port inspection." Dontos knew the courage and strength they contained.

The young captain was full of pride, confidence, and ambition to independently take charge of a ship, willing to sail to any abyss; the middle-aged crippled first mate was clear-headed, calm, and composed, enough to deal with accidents at sea; he couldn't find a better match.

The sun rose from the sea, and the first ray of light lit up the Red Keep on the high hill; the whole city began to become lively from this point on. The kingdom needed such a grand wedding to announce the country's great victory, to announce the unity and strength of the Iron Throne. But today, Dontos only saw division and weakness.

He felt his hands trembling, trembling for the necklace he sent, trembling for his great plan. His head began to throb violently, and he had to swallow two mouthfuls of red wine. The red wine was sour and pungent; under the stimulation of alcohol, his face quickly turned red, and accompanied by severe headaches, he began to look like a drunkard.

Would Sansa honestly follow a drunkard? Dontos was a little worried; people who drink heavily at critical times are not trustworthy, and he had already proven this to Sansa. If she refused to trust a drunkard, everything would be over. Why did Lord Baelish think he could take Sansa out? Could only one Dontos be used among the hundreds of thousands of people in King's Landing?

He wrapped himself in the thick fool's clothing, packed the props for the performance, the direction finder, and the letter prepared for Gander. The letter was sealed with mud and stamped with the Hollard crest. This was his promise.

After completing the shameful performance, Dontos's remaining work was to wait. The wedding gradually became lively and noisy, and everyone had countless tasks they couldn't finish, only he had time to observe and think on the side. The escape route had been turned over countless times in his mind; he hoped Florian and Gander would be as reliable as they appeared. He also had to think about how to approach Sansa quickly and unobtrusively. There were too many uncontrollable factors in this process.

Dontos knew the plan would succeed; he believed in the instructions in his dreams. In the dream, she saw Sansa return to Winterfell, but standing at the wedding scene and observing from the dream were two different concepts. Would Lord Baelish dream? If he didn't, how much certainty did he have in the successful implementation of the plan? Or did Lord Baelish really expect the plan to succeed completely? Dontos knew the answer. Success was best; if it failed, it wasn't bad either; the loss was merely Sansa. Of course, if it failed, the blade secretly watching him, Dontos, would cut his throat at any time. Lord Baelish would not put his handle on him.

He wasn't afraid. He even wanted to say hello to him.

Stranger, how are you? You've been waiting a long time, haven't you?

After a long wait, he came back to his senses from the panic of the crowd. He went toward the noble's high platform; no one stopped him, no one cared about him, which was good.

Sansa was like a stunned little quail, which was not good.

Dontos touched her sleeve lightly. "It's just this time, hurry up! It's time to go back to Winterfell." The three words "Winterfell" had great power for her, Dontos thought happily, and she was willing to follow anyone who said these three words. Very good, everyone else was rushing toward the fallen King, and no one was paying attention to them.

Dontos followed the corridors he had walked countless times, the winding paths, and the tightly closed iron gates. He put a cloak on Sansa and walked in the shadows of the trees, hoping the trees in the godswood were still allies of the gods of the North.

"Sansa, don't be afraid, I have prepared everything, we are going back to Winterfell. Soon, soon, you will be there."

"Thank you, Ser, I am not afraid."

"I am not a Ser."

"No, you are." Her insistence made Dontos feel amused; this was just a child.

Except for a few narrow places that hindered the little girl, the whole journey was incredibly smooth. They reached the coast under the Red Keep smoothly, and at this time, the continuous ringing of the church bells had already sounded, and perhaps the entire surface of Blackwater Bay could hear it clearly. There was no longer any power that could stop them.

Dontos patrolled the coast and sure enough saw the hidden small boat tied to the shore not far away. He carefully helped Sansa up. After pushing the small boat into the sea, he jumped on immediately. After a slight hesitation, he put down the direction finder and the letter, comforted Sansa, and then jumped off again. He threw all the clothes belonging to the fool on the shore, revealing the crest belonging to Hollard.

There was fog on the sea, which couldn't be better, Dontos thought. In a while, he would disappear into the vast sea, taking the daughter of Winterfell away from the lion's clutches and repaying his debt. He hoped the young captain and the crippled first mate wouldn't be affected by the church bells and give up waiting.

Following the determined direction, he rowed for a full half hour, and before he was exhausted, he saw the old passenger and cargo ship, and he smiled.

"Go, child! Follow them onto the ship, and remember to hand the letter to the lord you see." He said to Sansa.

"Ser, aren't you coming together?"

"My good lady. I have other things to do; they will take you home. You know home, right? I've seen that place; the weirwood is very thick, it takes several people to hug it, ah, the green pond next to it, steaming."

"Yes, red leaves, white branches, green pond." Sansa whispered, and after hesitation, she gave a clumsy kiss.

The crew of the Joyful Mermaid began to laugh and whistle. Dontos didn't expect to be so happy. The young girl blushed in the sailors' teasing.

"My lord, can you tell me your real name now?" Florian Jones asked him.

"His name is Florian." Sansa said. The boy looked like he had seen a ghost.

"Yes, my name is Florian!" He rowed away with happiness and joy. He still had other people to see.

Rowing on the sea made him painful and tired, and the fog gradually dissipated before Dontos discovered another ship waiting on the sea. This was his direction, and also his end; the bells of the cathedral seemed to be ringing for him. His headache was also gradually intensifying with the rhythm of the bells.

"Dontos, I didn't see Sansa." Baelish stood high on the sea ship.

"You should call me Ser, my lord." Baelish's smile stopped on his face.

"I don't care about the title of a drunkard; where is Sansa?"

"Sansa has already gone home. I am not a drunkard; my name is Florian, and I hate wine. My lord."

"Dontos, could it be that your brain has been soaked in wine?" Baelish could only know some things through the bells, but he knew nothing else. "Since Sansa has gone home, what are you still doing here? Could it be that you still want to collect the final payment?"

"That fool named Dontos wanted to bring you a message. He stood at the wedding scene, although hungry, he endured the feast without eating; although thirsty, he endured the fine wine without drinking; although tired, he never sat on any bench; although hot, he never stood under a roof. But Lord Baelish was not present, yet he ate his fill and drank his fill, and sat quite steadily. By the way, he liked the gift you sent to the master of the Red Keep very much."

"Dontos, I have never seen a fool stupider than you." His face was hateful and horrified.

"Yes, I am a fool."

"Then fool, could it be that this message is the purpose of your coming here?"

"No. I came to thank you. I like that crest very much."

He heard a whistling sound. An arrow pierced his chest; he didn't feel pain. Very good. ===== CHAPTER 9 =====