Gendry glanced at the helmet he had forged, resting on the bench in the forge's workshop. It was shaped like a bull's head, complete with two curved bull horns.
Though made of crude iron, the craftsmanship was that of a master. The large, bull-shaped helmet was quite conspicuous; wearing it would surely draw attention.
Though the weapons master Tobho had been kind to him in the forge, it was not a permanent solution.
"Farewell! The forge!" Gendry thought to himself, then, with a little money and a short-handled mace in hand, he walked out of the barn.
Gendry's mace had one side as sharp as a bird's beak, resembling a "pick," and the other side was a hammerhead.
The mace was small yet formidable; few could withstand its blows, especially against opponents clad in plate armor, which was like an iron turtle shell.
The foreman and maids didn't stop the apprentice from leaving; older apprentices had the freedom to take breaks, and the forge was quite humane in that regard. They likely assumed Gendry would wander around King's Landing as usual and return for dinner.
Gendry was a reliable and hardworking apprentice, well-liked by everyone for his steady nature and willingness to work.
As for the short-handled mace, it was something Gendry had made himself and always carried with him when he went out. Everyone was used to it, considering the questionable security in King's Landing.
Gendry climbed the hill. The Great Sept of Baelor was as bustling as ever today. The High Septon, dressed in a silver-threaded robe and with white hair, was reading from the Book of the Seven in the plaza.
In the center of the plaza stood the towering statue of Baelor the Blessed.
It stood calmly on its pedestal, with a face full of sorrow for the world. Gendry saw the beautiful white marble plaza and blended into the surging crowd visiting the Great Sept.
Among the crowd listening to the prayers, Gendry overheard a conversation between two men from the Vale. The Vale was where the Andals first landed and was known for its devout worship of the Seven.
"Our lord is very loyal to the king, but he doesn't have much interest in managing our affairs in the Vale! The Tullys speak, and our Lord Jon listens and gives them important tasks. Especially that Littlefinger, who has the lady's ear," one of them said with a hint of resentment.
"Well, it's best not to talk too much about Lord Jon's affairs. Isn't it natural for Lord Jon to stay in King's Landing? The king dreams, and the Hand builds those dreams.
The king can't do without our Lord Jon. Without him, how would the king have the mind to hunt every day, hold tournaments, or seek women?" the other companion replied nonchalantly.
"The king is naturally happy, but Lord Jon has been too diligent these past years. He should have returned to the Eyrie to carefully raise his heir, that little crybaby."
"But at this point, if King Robert wants to step back, who else can he trust besides our Lord Jon? Otherwise, Lord Jon wouldn't have been there for so many years."
"But the gods have been kind to our king; without these long summers, how would the king have the spirit to eat, drink, and make merry!"
Gendry listened to their conversation, but the two men from the Vale soon stopped talking. The Vale men respected Blackfish, who was, after all, a legendary knight. But they would never approve of a low-born favorite like Littlefinger, who had risen to prominence.
Come to think of it, Jon Arryn's tenure as Hand was similar to Tywin's, both holding power for a long time. However, Jon and Robert's relationship was that of a foster father and son, and King Robert was no mad king with extreme tendencies.
Gendry continued to pretend to wander around, then followed the crowd into another corner. He avoided Iron Street and left the Great Sept of Baelor, heading towards the Mud Gate from the Mud Way. He wandered through King's Landing, savoring the lively atmosphere.
Thanks to the long summer, King's Landing was even more prosperous and noisy, and no one paid attention to a boy's departure.
Gendry's life as a blacksmith's apprentice had been quite stable over the years. The Spider's informants had become increasingly lax in monitoring Gendry. No one was following him, and Gendry even felt that he was overestimating himself. After all, in the Spider's web, his priority was very low.
On the Mud Way, there were farmers with beautiful corn and apples, knights on fine horses, and foreigners of all sorts. Gendry paid the most attention to those various knights, who likely represented different family factions.
Gendry noticed the Gold Cloaks guarding the Mud Gate, clad in black chainmail and gold cloaks. They were a rather relaxed unit. Gendry easily made his way to the docks, wearing a hood and his iron mask, but it was hard to say he was the most conspicuous.
After all, near the Mud Gate, there were hundreds of docks, and the port was filled with countless ships. Many people came and went. It wasn't just him; even the beautiful Lyseni, Tyroshi with purple beards, and people from the Summer Islands could be seen. The Gold Cloaks guarding the gate would only see him as an eccentric guest.
Gendry still needed to cover his tracks. Besides the Spider, there was Littlefinger. After all, the Master of Coin, the royal treasurer, the royal measurer, the heads of the three mints, the harbormaster, the tax farmer, the customs officer, the wool factor, the road toll collector, the shipmaster, and the wine factor—most of these people were Littlefinger's men, and he had informants on the docks.
The damned thing was that when leaving the Mud Gate, Gendry ran into the king's procession again. It was perhaps a real coincidence. Under the banner of the crowned stag, protected by white knights, the king, reeking of alcohol, returned from hunting.
If Gendry hadn't run fast enough, he would have almost been trampled by the king's horse. Amidst the angry shouts of the Gold Cloaks driving people away, Gendry left quietly.
Gendry had scoped out his spot on the docks. A merchant ship was already filled with goods from all over Westeros and was set to sail to Myr across the Narrow Sea today.
"Boarding? Young man!" the Myrish sailor shouted.
"Leaving now?!"
"Yes, sailing late is very dangerous." Gendry paid the fare and boarded the ship.
After a while, the ship soon set sail. The long summer had its advantages; autumn storms were the most terrifying, while summer was much better.
The merchant ship slowly left the riverbank, and King's Landing grew smaller and smaller in the distance.
Gendry saw the beautiful royal warships upstream on the Blackwater River. Then came the Red Keep. Gendry saw the tall walls of the Red Keep.
The Targaryen family's black dragon on red had long become a thing of the past, replaced by the crowned stag of House Baratheon. There were no eternal thrones; now it was the age of the Baratheons in the open.
"Beautiful power, yet fragile power!" Gendry mused, staring at the banners on the ship's rail.
"This is my rebirth!" Gendry thought. Staying in King's Landing had its pros and cons, but across the Narrow Sea in Essos, there was a much broader horizon for him. There were also quite a few people from Westeros there.
"Kid, can you read?" Gendry turned around, still wearing his hood. Though he was alone, the tall, lonely boy still attracted attention.
Gendry saw an old man dressed in grey.
He was tall, with a slightly hunched back and prominent blue eyes surrounded by many wrinkles. Though he was old, his grey hair was more abundant than white, and a smile always lingered on his lips, making him look like the grandfather a little girl would admire.