Game of Thrones: Joffrey the Chosen

A young man next to Earl Gells was pushed forward.

"Your Highness is unaware of the situation." He glanced angrily at the person behind him, then cleared his throat.

"Before your arrival, the officials had already discussed who would be stationed where."

"There are always paths available, so they won't obstruct entry or exit."

Joffrey looked at the emblem on his robes.

Harvard's.

However, he couldn't be sure which person it was, since the lord of Harvard City was still a nursing baby girl.

"This is not just a matter of obstructing access." Joffrey's voice was not loud, but it clearly reached everyone's ears.

"This is a matter of order and efficiency."

"If your tent blocks the road, others will have to detour, and the camp will become chaotic."

The young man peered forward again.

"Your Highness, we are not ignorant about warfare and setting up camp."

"This is how it's been all these years, and what you're saying..."

Under Joffrey's gaze, his already weak voice gradually lowered.

"Your Highness, I was rash."

Joffrey looked away, scanning everyone present.

"You are all lords of the royal domain, vassals who are directly loyal to the Iron Throne."

"I know you have far more experience than I do."

He paused for a moment, then began to raise the banner.

"But I am, after all, the commander appointed by the king, so of course I need to find out the situation of our team."

The tent was quiet for a while.

Earl Gails coughed again: "Your Highness, please just say what you wish to do."

"Everyone is listening and will certainly obey your orders."

Joffrey glanced at him.

"Alright then."

He pointed outside the tent.

"Before dinner, all non-compliant tents must be moved."

The young man from Harvard opened his mouth, but ultimately remained silent.

"By noon tomorrow, each household should report the number of people who actually attended and those who did not."

Write down exactly how much is missing.

Earl Lake nodded.

"And one more thing," Joffrey finally uttered the long-brewing thought.

"Build a central warehouse in the camp, where all provisions will be stored and managed in a unified manner."

"Each soldier receives rations according to a uniform quota."

"Your Highness!" someone exclaimed.

But someone next to him grabbed him.

Joffrey looked in the direction of the sound and saw only a few faces that had hurriedly lowered.

These boots really look like boots.

"Is there a problem?"

No one responded.

A gust of wind blew in from outside the tent, causing the candlelight to flicker.

"My lords, I know what you're thinking," Joffrey broke the silence.

"We brought the supplies ourselves, why should we hand them over?"

"But I'd also like to ask you all a question."

"After the army sets off, if some units are well-fed at every meal while others are tightening their belts, what will the hungry soldiers do?"

"Steal? Robbery?"

Joffrey answered for them.

"Of course, you gentlemen can purchase them from local lords along the way, or transport them from your own territories."

"But the army will not stop for one or two troops."

Joffrey looked at everyone present, trying to decipher their expressions.

Some people frowned, some lowered their eyes, and some kept tapping their knees with their knuckles.

"Moreover, it is impossible for us to eat the enemy's food during this attack."

"What we need to attack is the Blood Gate, the Eagle's Nest, not the entire Valley."

"Besides the savages, there's nowhere in the Bright Moon Mountains for you to plunder."

Everyone remained silent.

"Of course, I'm not asking you all to do this for nothing," Joffrey softened his tone.

"Everything will be recorded clearly, down to the last detail: who contributed how much barley, how much salted meat, and how much wine."

"I also know what some people are up to."

"It's never as good as eating someone else's food as eating your own."

"Once you've finished eating, you'll naturally wait for the royal family to allocate more food. I'll ask the officials with more grain for it and give it to you."

Joffrey glanced at the one he'd only been with for a little over ten days and smiled.

"But what if they're unwilling to give it?"

What are you eating?

A burst of snickers rippled through the crowd.

"Yeah, yeah, what are we eating!"

The count lowered his head in embarrassment, wishing he could shrink himself into his collar.

Earl Gails' eyes darted around.

"Your Highness, some people brought more and some brought less. It's not fair to hand them all over and have them all eaten together."

"Besides, my family brings only the finest corned beef, while some people only brought a bunch of barley and dark bread."

As he said this, his gaze drifted, intentionally or unintentionally, towards a colleague in the corner.

Joffrey had already made arrangements.

"The grain and fodder handed over will be converted into corresponding gold dragons, which will be transformed into contributions for this expedition."

"At that time, both spoils of war and ransoms from prisoners will have priority in distribution."

"Does Your Highness's statement mean anything?" someone asked.

"The words of the commander appointed by the king naturally stand."

"His Majesty will bestow rewards after the war, and I will truthfully report your contributions."

Joffrey simply agreed.

Anyway, Robert will cover for us when the time comes.

Another silence followed.

The lord who had been grabbed broke free from his companion's grasp and spoke with a stiff neck.

"Your Highness, it's not that we don't believe you."

"But what if... what if after the war..."

"What if I renege on my debt after the war? Or what if we don't win?" Joffrey chimed in.

The man shrank back and didn't dare to respond.

"Then you all should take the provisions and head back now." Joffrey leaned back in his chair.

"Let's see if His Majesty will allow you to return to your own territory unharmed."

"My lords, you must understand this."

"Serving the king is your duty."

"Unified management is to ensure that everyone has enough food to last until the end of the war; post-war compensation is to ensure that those who contributed more do not suffer losses."

"If anyone feels that's not enough, then we can follow the old rules: everyone eats their own food and does their own thing."

"When you're halfway through the fight and someone is too hungry to run, don't blame the others for not sharing with them."

"I have no right to dictate what you eat every day; that's your own business."

A deeper silence fell over everyone.

The candlelight illuminated faces that shifted between light and shadow.

"Of course, gentlemen, you don't need to worry that I will go back on my word."

"Do you think I can run away? Don't you even know who I am?"

Everyone lowered their faces.

Joffrey suddenly realized something was wrong.

Robert is a notorious deadbeat, so bringing him up has no credibility whatsoever.

"Don't you even remember what my mother's surname is?" he quickly added.

The group began exchanging glances.

"Lannister," someone said.

"What's the next line?" Joffrey gave him an encouraging smile.

"Debts must be repaid!" the crowd responded in unison.

This sound was louder than the previous ones.

Joffrey waved his hand.

"When you report the number of people tomorrow, please also submit the list of the grain and fodder that has been handed in."

"Sir Barristan will act as a notary."

Meeting adjourned.

The crowd filed out.

Barristan strolled over to Earl Gails, a somewhat inscrutable expression on his face.

"Sir, may I trouble you to borrow your tent again?"

"I need to speak with Your Highness about something private."

The tent owner and Joffrey's servants were driven out, leaving only three people inside.

The Hound looked at Joffrey, as if asking if he should go out too.

"You can stay here, you won't understand anyway," Barristan said casually.

The hunting dog bared its teeth.

"Sir, is there anything I did wrong?" Joffrey asked cautiously.

After all, we hadn't discussed the matter of having Lao Ba act as a notary with him beforehand.

"Of course not," Barristan said with a smile. "Your Highness's methods are nothing like those of a child who is commanding troops for the first time."

"However..."

He tapped the table lightly, his expression turning serious.

"If Your Highness wishes to emulate Lord Tywin, you will need to establish the corresponding authority."