Chapter 302: Imperial Guards

The crowds gathered at the Lion Gate and the King’s Gate did not begin to thin until nightfall.

Those followers of the Seven who chose to leave King’s Landing vanished into the end of the southern road like an ebbing tide.

Torches were lit one by one along the city walls, casting dancing shadows upon the now much emptier streets.

Aegon stood by the window high in the Red Keep, took one last look at King’s Landing as it settled into the night, and turned his gaze away.

He took off his black outer tunic and lay down on the large, soft bed.

Outside the window came the wailing of the night wind sweeping across Blackwater Bay.

He closed his eyes and soon drifted into a dreamless sleep.

The night passed without incident.

The next morning, as the first light of dawn appeared, Aegon awoke.

After a simple wash, he changed his outer garment and stepped out of his bedchamber.

His destination was the Tower of the Hand.

That tower, not far from Maegor’s Holdfast, was where the hand of the king worked and resided.

Now, it was the place where Jon Connington toiled day and night.

Since Aegon’s landing, more and more territories required governance, and more and more administrative affairs needed handling; almost all of it rested on the shoulders of this Old Knight.

The guards at the Tower of the Hand saw that it was Aegon himself, and dared not stop him, bowing in salute.

Aegon nodded and entered the tower, climbing up the spiral stone stairs.

The stone stairs were somewhat narrow, and torches were embedded in the walls at intervals, illuminating the passageway.

Arriving at the door to Jon Connington’s study on the top floor, he found it not fully closed, left slightly ajar.

Aegon pushed it open gently and walked in.

Sure enough, even early in the morning, Jon Connington was already sitting behind that large oak desk, head bowed, writing rapidly on paper.

His silver-grey hair was combed meticulously, but the exhaustion from days of overwork was evident between his brows.

Beside him, a small, thin figure stood timidly, holding a silver wine flagon in her hands.

It was the little girl he had seen previously in Flea Bottom.

She had clearly been thoroughly washed and dressed in clean, tidy serving attire.

Although she appeared exceptionally thin due to long-term malnutrition, her eyes held more spirit than yesterday; no longer filled with pure numbness and terror, they now carried a sense of curiosity and caution about her surroundings.

It seemed the captain of the guard was indeed efficient.

Jon Connington noticed someone entering, looked up, and seeing it was Aegon, hastily put down his quill and stood up.

The little girl beside him also nervously put down the wine flagon and, somewhat clumsily mimicking Jon, performed a not-quite-standard salute to Aegon.

“Your Grace, good day.” Jon Connington’s voice was a bit hoarse, but he still seemed spirited.

“Good day, Lord Jon.” Aegon replied, his gaze falling on the little girl before returning to Jon’s face.

Following his gaze, Jon Connington wore a gentle smile: “Your Grace, thank you for your consideration for this old servant. As I grow older, my hands and feet are indeed not as nimble as they once were.”

“Having such a nimble-handed child by my side to pour wine and hand me pens has saved me quite a bit of trouble. The child is very well-behaved and learns quickly.”

Aegon nodded: “Take care of your own health as well. My kingdom still needs an experienced Hand like you to manage it.”

Jon Connington bowed slightly: “Your Grace is too kind. This is my duty, I dare not call it a hardship.”

Aegon’s gaze fell upon the half-written paper on the desk, where the ink was still wet and the handwriting neat: “Handling some urgent business so early in the morning?”

Jon Connington followed his gaze, glanced at it, and immediately replied: “Your Grace, it is regarding the order you previously issued for the Narrow Sea Fleet to head south.”

“Under the command of Commander Marco Sollen, the Fleet has successfully bypassed the Sea of Dorne, crossed the Shield Islands, and officially entered the Sunset Sea.”

“This is the raven message just received.”

He picked up the half-written paper: “I am drafting a reply and adjusting the next steps for coordination based on the Fleet’s latest position. Judging by current sailing speeds, they should soon reach the designated location on the coast of the Westerlands.”

Aegon took the paper, scanned the contents quickly, and nodded with satisfaction.

This was basically in line with the timeline he had estimated.

Since landing in Westeros and capturing Dragonstone, there had been no large-scale naval battles, and the Narrow Sea Fleet had been idle.

Therefore, he ordered this Fleet to head south, sail around the long coastline of Westeros, pass through the Sea of Dorne, and enter the Sunset Sea, with the target pointed directly at the rear hinterlands of the Westerlands.

Now, as he successively occupied the Stormlands, The Crownlands, and The Riverlands on land, this Fleet, which had circled half the continent, was also about to be in position.

It would be perfect for forming a pincer maneuver with the next strategy targeting the Westerlands.

However, it was still too early for all of this.

The Riverlands needed time to be consolidated, and the Fleet had not yet fully reached its designated position.

Aegon returned the letter to Jon and set aside these strategic deployments for the moment.

Jon Connington put away the letter and finally asked about Aegon’s purpose for coming: “Your Grace, you came here so early, is there any important matter to instruct?”

Aegon walked over to the guest seat and sat down.

Jon Connington followed and sat down in the chair opposite.

Seeing this, the little girl serving the wine hurried forward. Although her movements were still a bit stiff, she steadily filled the wine glasses in front of the two with deep red Arbor wine, then quietly retreated to the side.

Aegon picked up the wine glass but did not drink immediately. Instead, he looked at the swirling wine in the glass and said: “Jon, I intend to restart the institution of the Kingsguard.”

Jon Connington’s expression turned serious; he put down his wine glass and listened attentively.

“But I do not intend to copy the old system entirely,” Aegon continued. “The original Kingsguard consisted of seven knights who swore lifelong loyalty to the king, renouncing family, lands, and all worldly attachments, responsible only for the king’s personal safety.”

“This point must be preserved.”

He changed his tone: “But this is not enough. Seven knights alone can only protect my personal safety.”

“What I want is a standing army capable of guarding the dignity and safety of the entire Targaryen royal family.”

“I intend to use the Kingsguard as the core to form a Royal Guard specifically responsible for protecting the royal family.”

He looked at Jon Connington: “The scale of this Royal Guard is provisionally set at 3,500 men. The original establishment of the seven Kingsguard will be retained, but they will no longer be mere individual bodyguards; instead, they will serve as the commanders of this elite force.”

“Each member of the Kingsguard will command 500 elite Soldiers, responsible for the security and defense of the Red Keep and the members of the royal family.”

After listening, Jon Connington did not answer immediately but fell into deep thought.

He gestured, and the little girl serving the wine smartly brought over the blank paper, quill, and inkwell from the desk.

Jon Connington dipped his quill in ink and began to quickly record the key points Aegon had mentioned on the paper.

After writing, he looked up and said after some deliberation: “Your Grace, I believe this proposal is excellent.”

“Although Your Grace currently has three main legions under your command, each has its own focus, and there is indeed no army suitable for specifically guarding the royal family.”

He analyzed: “Although the Golden Company is the premier Mercenary group in Essos and possesses formidable combat power, they are ultimately mercenaries, and their relationship with Your Grace is more of a Mercenary contract.”

“Even if they are far more loyal than ordinary Mercenary groups, it is ultimately inappropriate to entrust the safety of the royal family entirely to them.”

“Although the Ash Company has been reorganized and trained, its predecessors were mostly pirates and outlaws, so discipline is always an issue, making them even less suitable for the duty of royal protection.”

“As for the Bloodsworn…” Jon Connington paused, “They were established by Your Grace based on the original followers brought out from the Valyrian Ruins. Their loyalty is beyond question, and they are the sharpest blade in Your Grace’s hand.”

“But they are heavy cavalry, the iron hammer used to shatter enemy lines in open field battles.”

“If we make them hold their warhorses and stand guard in the corridors of the Red Keep, it won’t be long before the Red Keep turns into a stable.”

Aegon nodded.

Jon’s analysis was consistent with his own thoughts.

“Then,” Jon Connington continued to ask, “regarding the source of these 3,500 Royal Guard Soldiers, as well as the recruitment of the seven Kingsguard, does Your Grace have a preliminary plan?”

“Should we follow the original Kingsguard selection method, issue a proclamation, and summon aspiring knights to come to King’s Landing for a tournament?”

“Use the old selection system,” Aegon confirmed his guess. “Issue a recruitment order to The Riverlands, The Crownlands, and the Stormlands. Any knight who meets the criteria may come to King’s Landing to compete.”

“Through rounds of competition, the most outstanding will be selected and appointed by me personally as the new Kingsguard.”

He paused and added: “But those outstanding knights who participated in the competition but were ultimately not selected need not be sent away.”

“You can add a clause to the recruitment order: anyone who participates in the competition but is not selected, if willing to stay, may become an officer or core member of the Royal Guard.”

“They will serve as members of the Targaryen royal protection force, enjoying treatment and honor no lower than other equivalent legions, and will have priority for filling future vacancies in the Kingsguard.”

A gleam of light flashed in Jon Connington’s eyes.

This was indeed a good way to both select top talent and recruit second-tier elites to fill out the new army.

He immediately recorded it quickly on the paper.

“I understand. I will draft a detailed plan as soon as possible, including recruitment criteria, competition procedures, the organization, salary, and promotion system of the Royal Guard, and submit it for Your Grace’s review.”

“Good. I leave this matter for you to coordinate.” Aegon stood up; everything that needed to be instructed had been made clear.

Jon Connington also hurriedly stood up and respectfully saw him off: “I will not fail Your Grace’s trust.”

Aegon nodded, stayed no longer, and turned to walk out of the study in the Tower of the Hand.