Game of Thrones: Oath of Iron and Fire-Chapter 66: Littlefinger

Littlefinger had originally planned to enter the white, beautiful city of Myr, but the customs officer who received him informed him that the ruler would meet him in the newly erected Wolf's Den in the Disputed Lands.

"Wolf's Den, wolfpack!" Littlefinger thought of these words and felt a psychological discomfort. Was the shadow of House Stark still haunting him? That wound from decades ago seemed to re-emerge from his memory, continuing to hurt him.

After a long and dusty journey, passing through numerous checkpoints and inspections, Littlefinger finally arrived at the Wolf's Den, the core of the new kingdom, which looked more like a large military camp.

"Glad to meet you, Lord Petyr!" A middle-aged man with distinct Northern features greeted Littlefinger first. Jorah had changed into grey-white leather armor, but the symbol on his chest was that of a great bear.

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Jorah escorted Littlefinger into the military camp outside the Wolf's Den. "The ruler is waiting for you, the good envoy of the Iron Throne!"

"If I'm not mistaken, you must be Lord Jorah? I remember your heroic deeds from back then!" Littlefinger said.

"That was all in the past. Now I am just a loyal servant of the ruler," the bear looked at Littlefinger. He had heard of this man's many exploits, which were despised by the Northerners. This included his overreaching challenge to the wild wolf Brandon and his rise through Lady Lysa's favor.

Littlefinger, however, remained smiling. These damn Northerners were always so stubborn and lacked finesse. If the king's bastard had also grown up surrounded by these people, he would inevitably have the same temperament as the wild wolf Brandon, making him easier to persuade.

In the military camp, Littlefinger saw flags fluttering like paintings, the clanging of steel, the movement of spears and pikes, and soldiers practicing together, seemingly preparing for a new war.

The men with taut muscles, robust physiques, and the grey-white wolfpack emblem were the elite wolfpack troops. Those in lighter chainmail, leather armor, or chain armor, with less impressive builds and diverse appearances, were likely freedmen reformed from slaves.

But no matter what, with this army of tens of thousands, combined with Myr's financial power and the fleet on the Narrow Sea, it was indeed enough to make the Iron Throne panic for a while. Especially since the Free Cities were generally wealthy, their organized armies under the command of a strong leader were indeed a great threat to the Iron Throne.

"This game was already chaotic enough! Wolves, eagles, fish, lions, stags! I only wanted to involve the direwolves in the game, but now the wild stags across the Narrow Sea are also rising and getting involved in the game of power! I have to win and get more for myself!" Littlefinger thought.

The ruler's tent was huge but not luxurious. Littlefinger saw a cold war hammer and a large steel shield with a crude iron mask painted on it.

"From this perspective, this bastard is the king's son!" Littlefinger thought to himself as the Unsullied attendant pulled aside the curtain, allowing Littlefinger to enter the tent.

Petyr was short and of average build but had a handsome face. He had grey-green eyes, a small goatee on his chin, and his dark hair was tinged with a bit of grey.

"I am the envoy of the Iron Throne, the Master of Coin on the Small Council, Petyr Baelish, honored to meet the ruler of the Disputed Lands, Myr, the Stepstones, and the Narrow Sea, Lord Gendry!" Littlefinger spoke in a sweet voice, then bowed deeply. Littlefinger wore a thick cloak fastened with a silver mockingbird.

Littlefinger noticed the tall young man opposite him. For a moment, he almost thought Renly was here. But upon closer inspection, there were differences. The young man was also handsome, but had a broader chin and thicker eyebrows.

The short-haired, sturdy young man was robust, unlike Renly's delicate and elegant appearance. Gendry had broad shoulders and the strong arms of a blacksmith. It was said that he had worked as a blacksmith, which was normal. Gendry was not a nobleman but a warrior.

"I wonder what your business is?" Gendry did not speak, but an old man with white hair beside him spoke first.

"I bring gold, wine, and a father's affection," Littlefinger raised his voice. "The king will grant you a fief near the Blackwater Rush in the Crownlands and bestow a title upon you!"

Laughter echoed in the tent. Such a trivial reward would be seen as an insult.

"What are the terms?" Gendry stopped some of the laughter, allowing Littlefinger to continue.

"It is indeed difficult for the commander to send away Viserys and Daenerys Targaryen, but if only one is chosen, it will not tarnish your reputation and will also change the Iron Throne's perception of you. I hear that Tyrosh and Lys are gathering mercenaries. The commander could use more friends!"

"The Iron Throne's offer is so generous that I must refuse."

Littlefinger was not surprised. This was expected. Negotiations required leverage, and mainly, the cards Littlefinger brought were too few, with no room for bargaining.

It didn't matter, Littlefinger thought. As long as the scandals in King's Landing were exposed, the mercenary king across the Narrow Sea would also get involved.

"Why didn't Jon Arryn come?" Gendry asked Littlefinger again.

"The Hand of the King is burdened with the weight of the Seven Kingdoms, and being old and frail, I, as the Hand's loyal servant, took on this responsibility!" Littlefinger paused, not knowing why it was brought up.

"Littlefinger, truly a silver-tongued devil, so charming! Why don't you stay here for a few more days? I need a Master of Coin. I hear you are a master at making gold beget gold!"

"Commander, I——"

"Are you refusing my kind offer, Lord Petyr?" Gendry stood up and looked at Littlefinger.

Littlefinger felt a chill. The strong officers, the cold Unsullied guards, all were watching him. Staying across the Narrow Sea, his power and base were in the Vale and King's Landing. If he were kidnapped here, that would be a disaster.

"Your Highness, thank you for your kindness! But your good father, King Robert, still needs my dedication and loyalty. I remain the Master of Coin!"

"I see, you are truly a loyal servant of King Robert!"

"Jorah, give Lord Petyr a gift, shall we?"

Jorah roughly approached and grabbed Littlefinger. Littlefinger's guards, all from the Red Keep or the King's Landing garrison, were also subdued outside the tent.

Littlefinger was taken to the side of three massive catapults. These catapults, which had not been used to bombard Myr, were probably reserved for Tyrosh.

"In the past, these were called the 'Three Whores of Myr'!" Jorah explained.

"What are you doing? I came to negotiate peace!" Littlefinger shouted, then was tied up by the Wolfpack soldiers and placed next to a catapult.

The giant catapult began to make a rumbling noise, like cold steel.

"Don't make this joke, Commander!!" Littlefinger screamed, but the catapult continued to operate, rising to a certain height without any sign of stopping.

Tears streamed down Littlefinger's face. The feeling of despair at death, he felt it, just like being wounded by a wild wolf years ago. He felt himself rising into the clouds, about to be turned into a pile of minced meat in an instant.

A scholar encountering soldiers, all conspiracies are unreliable in the face of absolute military power. This is not King's Landing, there are no such court intrigues here.

"Take your opponent seriously!" Littlefinger thought. "This is a new player who wants to turn everything upside down, not like those people in King's Landing who are too well-known!"

"King's Landing, there has been some bad news in King's Landing recently. Jon Arryn is going to die! Commander, I beg for your mercy, this piece of intelligence is enough to make up for my arrogance!" Littlefinger, trembling all over, was taken back into the tent, which now only had the Unsullied and Gendry left.

"I guessed this news, but you are very loyal in front of me!" Gendry looked at Littlefinger, his voice like the whisper of a demon.

"Poor Jon!" Jon had two villains, Littlefinger and Lady Lysa, around him. It was beyond saving. The death of the Hand of the King seems to indicate that King's Landing is about to explode.

Jon Arryn was a loyal servant to Robert, but not to him. If it weren't for his good fortune, the bastard being killed by Cersei, Jon wouldn't have reacted. Everything for the greater good, for Jon's greater good.

"I didn't want to meddle in your affairs in King's Landing! But this is the Wolfpack!"

"Yes! Yes!"