Hah, wow y'all really liked that last chapter! 3x the comments as the previous one.
Chapter 30
Robert’s threat worked. Those without did not attempt to break down the door. Jaime was in a bad way, but I didn’t think he was going to bleed out. My mind was racing for possible solutions while I borrowed my rat’s senses. It was convenient how easy it was for rodents to move around. I had chosen Weiss purposefully so that he could slip under some doorframes, crawl through some of the larger cracks, and out of windows and onto walls.
I saw to the king’s wound, though he said he was fine and he worried over me. I was a bit worse for wear. I’d taken no wound, but the attempt to warg into Jaime was awful. A sense of wrongness and pain had flared instantly. I don’t think he could even guess what had happened, but he had an instinctual response to resist the intrusion and had done so to great effect. Being forcibly thrown out left me just as weary as I had been after my battle over Eyes.
But there were things to do so I did my best to bandage the king’s wound with the material we had.
“Pour wine over it,” Ser Barristan said as he finished securing Jaime. Not that he was likely to do much of anything at the moment.
“No, only fortified wine would be useful. The honey from the serving tray will act as a better barrier to fever.”
Barristan gave me a look, but did not gainsay me. The slashing wound would need proper care later, if there was a later. I didn’t even need to fake the tremor in my hand or the quaver in my voice. I was that damn wrung out from the attempt to take over Jaime’s body.
The Lannister guardsmen outside are confused. They are waiting for orders. Some didn’t even realize they were going to be committed regicide. Which would make sense, the more people you told, the more likely someone would reveal the scheme.
“I’ll put all their damn heads on spikes! Jaime, Cersei, every single one!”
“Please, Your Grace, not so loud. Jaime is an important hostage. One we need to keep alive at all costs. If whoever else is commanding the Lannister guardsmen believes that you will just execute everyone anyway, they will break down the door and kill us.”
“Hah! Your wolf, Barristan and I did for seven of them, they will die in droves.”
“Sansa played her part as well,” Barristan said solemnly.
Shut up you old fart!
I was certain Robert hadn’t noticed, but the old knight was very observant. I deliberately shivered. “My sister always said stick them with the pointy end. She showed me a few tricks.”
“Your sister?” Robert asked incredulously.
“After… after what happened on the Trident, Arya wished to learn how to defend herself. Father hired a Braavosi who used to be the First Sword of Braavos. The equivalent of what Ser Barristan is to you, Your Grace. I… I did not have the temperament, but Father insisted I learn some. In truth, it was Visha, I just struck where I had read the major lines of blood flow.”
The last thing I wanted was people knowing I had the ability and wherewithal to kill in an eyeblink. Against anyone expecting me to actively defend myself with a dagger, I would almost certainly lose. I had none of my magical gifts from my second life, so my advantages in a true combat situation were limited.
“Kingslayer, you still alive?” Robert asked after I finished tying strips of cloth to the wound. He kicked the prone form, but he was unconscious. Speaking would probably be difficult even if he wasn’t. Barristan had seen the wound briefly, but it was soaked with blood. He needed a maester, as it wasn’t just a superficial cut.
His looks will be marred, but most likely he dies when the conspirators rush in after not being able to convince us to let Jaime go. Alternatively he loses his head. I’m not sure what the play is here other than to stall for time, but if we get out of this I’d prefer to avoid a costly war. Especially with the threat my father was facing. I really wish I knew how these wights were created. This could either be a minor but dangerous issue, or something that threatens the entirety of the Seven Kingdoms. Knowing Being X, it is probably the latter.
“Your Grace, it is Ser Preston. What has happened?”
Robert laughed. “Do you think I am a fool? Attempt entry and I’ll bash Jaime fucking Lannister’s head in.”
“Your Grace, I know not what madness has occurred, but we must see to your safety.”
I borrowed the eyes of Weiss and saw Ser Preston Greenfield had a squad of Lannister soldiers, many of whom looked rather worried.
The king told him to bugger off and return with someone who would actually negotiate. Preston left and I urged Weiss to follow, but not too close. I couldn’t fully warg into the rat while retaining consciousness of myself as Sansa. The best I could do is the mental impulses and a borrowed sense. That impacted my own ability to use that sense as Sansa.
I’ll need to practice seeing out of one eye while retaining one of my own eyes. Hmm, I wonder if I blinded an animal in one eye, would that make it easier?
“Everything will be fine, Sansa.” Robert comforted awkwardly.
I gave him a shaky nod. “You don’t trust Ser Preston, even though he is of the Kingsguard. Who can we trust out there?”
Ser Barristan let out a heavy sigh. “Ser Arys, perhaps.”
I blinked. “Only two of the seven members of the Kingsguard are trustworthy? But… why have protectors if you cannot trust them?”
“The Kingsguard is not what it once was. Allegiances should be set aside once they don the white, but it is not so any longer. I also do not accuse my brothers in surety, but only based on my sense of trust in them. It is possible Ser Boros, Ser Mandon, and Ser Meryn are true. I have no doubt that Ser Preston is a traitor after what we just heard.”
What an appalling state of affairs.
“Who can we trust then?”
Robert grunted. “A good question. Yohn Royce, my brother Renly, Ser Loras, their men-at-arms, and your own guard. If Ser Loras is without alongside my Hand, then it will be safe.”
That made sense. I was regularly flipping through my senses, eyes then ears to keep tabs on Weiss and it now seemed like conversation was taking place that I needed to focus on.
“Forgive me, but do you mind if I pray to the old gods for our safety and this matter resolved.”
“Go ahead, child,” Robert said soothingly. I bowed my head and fully let my hearing be replaced with my rat’s.
“Your Grace, we must gain entry swiftly. Your brother may already be lost…”
“NO! Promise that swine of a man whatever is necessary to cause him to open the bloody door then rush in. Say that if Jaime is returned to us we will leave the city peacefully.”
“He won’t believe it, Your Grace,” Mandon’s voice rose. “A better ploy would be to find someone he trusts and say that the ‘traitors’ have been slain.”
Another voice rose. “Your Grace, your uncle is at the moat along with the Hand. Did Ser Kevan not know of this?” I couldn’t place it, it sounded passingly familiar, maybe one of the household guard officers.
“Ser Meryn has lowered the drawbridge!” This from someone else.
“No! Tell him to keep it raised,” Cersei shouted.
Ah, now that’s interesting. I had thought that given the timing, it was Ser Kevan who had planned for this. But the sheer panic in the conspirators’ voices means this may have been a more ad hoc approach. I can feel my odds of survival rising by the moment.
***
After gaining entry into Maegor’s Holdfast there was some confusion.
“Ser Kevan, the queen ordered the drawbridge raised. I only lowered it due to the command of the Hand.”
Kevan could practically smell the fear upon the Lannister guardsmen gathered around Ser Meryn.
“Disarm yourselves,” Kevan commanded. Renly and Royce both looked surprised.
“Aye,” Royce said, “Until we determine what has taken place.”
Ser Meryn and the other guards did so and Ser Andar took charge of them. As they moved deeper into the holdfast, Cersei arrived looking distraught.
“Uncle! Jaime has gone mad. He tried to kill my husband, and now Robert thinks there is some large attempt on his life. He refuses to open the door and won’t even let his Kingsguard in.”
“Is the king wounded?” Royce demanded to know.
“I know not, he has barred the door.”
Kevan looked at Cersei disbelieving.
“Lord Baratheon, the king may open the door for you and the Hand. Go swiftly. The Kingslayer, my nephew,” he spat on the royal carpet on the ground, “is a skilled swordsman. Time may be of the essence.”
Kevan let out a sigh of relief as all the important members and knights quickly ascended to where Cersei stated Robert was. That gave him at least a moment of relative privacy with Cersei.
“What have you done?” he whispered as he gestured the guards to give them space.
“What have I done?” Cersei hissed in response. “I was securing our house’s future. You made my own guardsman doubt my cause with what you have done. Before the drawbridge was lowered the dozens of my household guard could have withstood the Hand’s numbers. The City Watch is with us, but now that they are inside this will prove impossible. You’ve doomed Jaime!”
“You planned to openly murder the king? Seven Hells Cersei, our house would stand alone against all the rest of the Seven Kingdoms.”
“You are a fool, Nuncle Kevan, we could have made up any lie we wish. The City Watch has men holding every gate of this city. The only story that would have been told would be the one we allowed to be.”
Madness or idiocy? Again, I wonder, what does it matter?
“What happened, what exactly occurred today with Robert?”
“I don’t know,” she said bitterly. “He went with half a dozen guardsmen. It should have been simple. It was just one old knight guarding him.”
Damn it all, they didn’t even wait for a time when it wasn’t the greatest knight of the realm guarding the king.
Not that it would have been a good thing for them to have succeeded. Not for the longtime survival of House Lannister, but what would possess them to plan such an attack when it was Ser Barristan guarding the king? It would have been far more sensible to wait until he was abed or on some other business. Worse yet, dead Lannister guardsmen would make everything more difficult. If it had just been Jaime…
“Do not look at me in that manner!” Cersei’s beautiful face twisted. “It is not my fault that Jaime made a mess of it. But you must save him somehow. Invent a story, I can claim he had acted queerly of late, some sort of sickness of the mind. Don’t let him die, please.”
Kevan asked a few more questions, and then Lord Royce was demanding all the Lannister guardsmen to be arrested, including the queen and him as well.
I must abandon the twins. I will repeat what Cersei had just told me to the king when I am questioned. Tywin will be furious, but my actions may well have saved our house. But I fear Robert’s wrath may not be reasonable. Dorna, I hope I will be able to see you again.
***
Renly was thrilled by all that had taken place.
Truly I am favored by the gods.
His brother was only mildly wounded, and the foes of House Baratheon had been cut down. Jaime Lannister would likely survive his wounds, but he would face the headsman soon enough. The queen had been arrested along with all her ilk.
Robert was pacing. Pure vitriol dripped from his tongue.
“Does my wife think I am a fool? Her own guards helped her brother. Her head will be on a pike next to her brother’s. No, better yet, I’ll send all three of his children’s heads preserved over to their father. Maybe his brother’s too!”
They were within the Queen’s Ballroom. Baratheon and Royce knights lined the exterior and parts of the interior. The meeting with his small council could not easily be overheard by those knights, were it not for the fact Robert was shouting.
“Your Grace,” Lord Royce said solemnly, “were it not for Ser Kevan’s prompt actions you and Lady Sansa may well be dead.”
Renly had to respect Royce’s use of the Stark girl. She had clung to Robert and begged to be allowed to stay with him. His brother’s soft fondness for Sansa was plain enough. She was seated near him clutching at her direwolf. A wolf that still had blood on its fur. The girl in question was not her usual poised self; she was wearing clothes not fitted for her.
Robert lost some of his fire. “How did that come to pass? And where is Varys? And is Pycelle done caring for the traitor?”
As if conjured from air the knights ushered in the eunuch.
“This is a dark day, Your Grace. But the gods have answered the people’s prayers, and you are safe.”
“No thanks to you. What do I pay you for? First my son dies, then my wife is nearly poisoned, and then I am almost killed in my own sitting room!”
Varys spread his hands. “My little birds whisper all sorts of things, but they cannot be everywhere. I can tell you that several of the City Watch were ordered to guard the gates and let no one leave but an hour before your attack. I was within the city itself trying to determine why that was taking place when I learned of the dreadful attack upon your person. Forgive me, Your Grace.”
“That matches what Ser Kevan has told me,” Yohn said. “He learned of the plot from Janos Slynt. Your wife confessed to him when we made it into Maegor’s Holdfast. The plan was to murder you, blame it on someone else, and then have Cersei rule as Regent.”
Renly wondered what their plan had been for him and the Tyrells. The City Watch had the numbers to overwhelm them, but it would have been quite costly, and not all the Gold Cloaks may have gone along with it. Worse still was that the city had many gates and there were few knights within their number. Dealing with cut purses and drunken brawls was very different than fighting real soldiers.
The king grumbled. “Who all is responsible? Surely none of you are mad enough to suggest Cersei is innocent?”
Renly laughed. “No, her guilt is apparent. And I’d like to add, that if you had done what I had suggested those moons ago…”
Robert rounded on him. “Oh, so I am to blame for my squire’s death? You think Ned’s death is funny? You think Sansa nearly being murdered by the Lannisters is worthy of a jest?”
He raised his hands. “I only meant to try to lighten the mood, brother. I apologize. We all grieve for Edric’s death alongside you. From what you have said, he was true to the last. A worthy scion of House Dayne.”
That mollified Robert, for the moment.
I’ll have to tread carefully. He’s rabid in his fury, likely to lash out at any provocation.
A stir arose near the entryway. Ser Barristan adjusted his position, as they heard the shouts.
“That is my niece! You must let me see her. Out of my way.”
Robert looked annoyed. “Go tell them to let Ser Edmure through.”
The disturbance ended as a disheveled Edmure Tully arrived.
“Sansa, Sansa! I heard you may have been injured. Seven Hells has a maester seen you? Tell me you are well.”
Sansa raised herself and let her uncle see to her. She murmured, but it was loud enough for them to hear. She said that she was well, that Robert and Ser Barristan had protected her. That she appreciated his concern, but that it made her feel more secure to stay near to His Grace and Ser Barristan.
It was awkward as no one wanted to interrupt their conversation, but the business of the realm needed to be decided. Renly knew he was not going to be the one to interrupt them, not after Robert had nearly taken his head off for a laugh. Royce had more courage than him.
“Ser Edmure, we are discussing the treasonous events, and must return to the matter at hand.”
Robert waved his hand. “No, let him stay. Edmure is not part of the small council, but if he can prove comfort to Sansa, he can remain.”
Edmure pulled one of the extra chairs next to Sansa who looked… in truth, Renly couldn’t quite make out what her expression was.
“My wife dies alongside her brother and all those who took part. Janos Slynt, any of his officers that knew, and all the Lannister guardsmen. Then we also need…”
Robert was working through a rather lengthy list, and Renly was in full support. Royce, however, was of another mind.
“Treason must be punished, but we must also consider the truth that very few would have known about this plot. For every person they added to their conspiracy, it would be another that they had to trust not to report on their treachery. In the end, the gate was opened, and we were allowed entry. I suggest we give some of the known traitors an opportunity to share who their fellows were in exchange for their lives. They can take the Black and keep their heads, but only if they reveal what they know.”
Varys was nodding. “Our Hand speaks true. Separate them, so they cannot tell their accounts together. Put them in the black cells and put them to sharp question.”
Renly gave a great shrug. “Offer them mercy for information, but then kill them anyway. No one will know we ever made that sort of barter with our prisoners.”
Ser Barristan frowned, Edmure looked shocked, Robert had a look of savage amusement, and Royce just looked irritated. Only Sansa and Varys did not change their expression.
“Aye, now you provide good counsel, brother.”
The knights guarding the chamber ushered in another. The Grand Maester slowly made his way to them. Robert began pacing again and muttering under his breath about useless old men.
“Pardon… ahem pardon me, Your Grace. Ser Jaime will live. He also swears he acted alone with the Lannister guards that he had with him.”
“He’s lying,” Renly said.
Pycelle stroked his beard. “Yes, ahem, I, well, I thought the same. And I regret that, ahem, I know that to be true.” Renly watched as the elderly maester handed his brother a letter. “This… ah, I, may have erred. Your brother, ahem, refused to return, or,” he struggled for the word, “or, even to respond to it. And then he writes, ahem, calumnies of the most dire sort. I gave this to the queen as a courtesy before bringing such lies to you, ahem, Your Grace. I fear I bear the responsibility for this tragic day. A mother’s grief can distort the mind. In the Citadel there was even…”
Pycelle continued to drone on about some ancient unimportant history while Robert’s face went white and then purpled with rage. Renly was halfway concerned that he would burst a vessel.
“You say they are lies. What if they are true?” Robert interrupted in an icy tone.
“Surely you cannot believe…”
“Cannot believe what?” Renly interjected.
“Our brother writes that Myrcella and Tommen are abominations born of incest between the Kingslayer and my wife.”
***
Damn it!
I thought things were going fairly well, until that bombshell dropped. Pycelle was spinning this yarn as a mother’s grief turned to madness. Where she went to her hotheaded twin brother and begged him to kill the king before he believed the lies of his brother, who would then see his position advanced to that of heir to the Iron Throne after the dismissal of Tommen and Myrcella’s claims. Jaime was known for his impetuousness, considering how openly he accused the Tyrells of poisoning Cersei without proof.
The Grand Maester may well be in trouble for not giving Robert a letter addressed to him first, but he might skate by because the king is now fully obsessed with the possibility that the accusation within is true.
I was uncertain. Three blonds in a row were unlikely, but it was possible. I had already had this conversation with my father, but was not sure what I wanted to do here. The science was not well understood in this era, or in my own more modern era either. Hair color was polygenic; no one set of gene expression governed hair. But ultimately, I didn’t actually give a shit if they were bastards or not, what mattered was my own safety and security.
Tommen liked me. Myrcella liked me. Them remaining the prince and princess was a good thing. They were also the key to preventing a potential Westerlands rebellion. Tywin was an interesting person. He was known for his ruthlessness. They even made a song about his massacre of one of the vassal families. The sacking of King’s Landing had not been necessary in my view, but from his perspective, I could see why he would feel it was necessary to prove his loyalty to the rebel side.
Jaime and Cersei being executed was a body blow to his pride and the prestige of House Lannister. However, Tommen was still his grandson. His blood would sit upon the Iron Throne. He still had a stake in the game, but only if Tommen remained the prince. If he didn’t… there was no incentive for him to continue backing the Baratheon dynasty. At some point, pride might force him to do something, even if it was hopeless.
“Has he provided evidence?” Varys asked.
“Only that Robert’s, ahem, natural born children have black hair.”
Robert had sat down heavily and was looking off into the distance. I feared he believed it was true.
“My bastard brother has black hair,” I said softly. “My own hair matches my mother. Will Lord Stannis accuse my mother of lying with her brother, next?”
Robert heard me; his physical recoil gave that away. I didn’t like speaking up like this in the small council, it interfered with my desire to fly under the radar, but people’s first thoughts on a subject tended to influence their future perceptions. It was why lies and propaganda were such useful tools. Falsehood flies, and the truth comes limping after it. The problem was that unless the truth was absolute, any potential uncertainty would result in people going with their first read on something. Before Robert’s belief firmed in his mind, I had to put myself out there and disrupt it.
“I’m sure he would not, Lady Sansa,” Royce said carefully. “Lady Catelyn would never give your father horns, fret not.”
“You mustn’t worry over that, your mother would never!” Edmure said on top of him.
I struggled not to roll my eyes.
“I would never accuse her of that. I am merely pointing out how horrid the accusation is. I have never met Lord Stannis, but how can anyone make such a wretched claim on such slim proofs? My own father was so careful in trying to gather evidence of Lord Arryn’s death before presenting it before His Grace. I know that may have been in error, but he never wished to be reckless and accuse someone without having absolute certainty.”
Robert blinked rapidly, shook his head. “And a letter!? A letter? He claims he worked with Jon Arryn to uncover the truth and then left the city instead of telling me personally? That self-serving wretch!” He deflated. “But… what if it is true? Seven Hells, the woman meant to murder me, what else could she have done before that?”
Varys shifted. “There were many nights where it was Ser Jaime who guarded your bedchamber, Your Grace. The timing of such an assault, and the rather, shall we say, ineptness of the attempt, tells us that perhaps the Grand Maester’s unwise error did precipitate an action that she otherwise would not have done.”
Renly looked at the eunuch with open disdain.
“Or, the letter meant that Cersei had been found out. That she gave my brother horns and someone knew it, so she attempted to cover her crime with foul murder. Why else risk everything to do this? Stannis stumbled upon something and I would dismiss it as a self-serving falsehood, but the Lannister bitch confirmed the truth of it. I’m sorry, brother, but just look at them. They aren’t yours.”
And fuck you too, Renly.
Argh. It made sense for him to act this way. He disliked the Lannisters, and he would then move one step closer to the Iron Throne, but it was at odds with my own priorities. Robert glared at him, but his demeanor was one of uncertainty.
Lord Royce looked uncomfortable. “This is most vexing, because Lord Stannis has not provided other proofs. No witnesses to the deed. No one to claim they heard them speaking of it. And the idea that she would sleep with her brother is a strange one. Why make such a specific claim if he has nothing else to provide other than hair color?”
Renly stood up. “Because it makes sense! Who else would have access to the queen on such a regular basis?”
“If Jaime Lannister were guarding his sister, he could facilitate his sister’s treachery easily enough,” Varys opined, “but Stannis seems certain it was Jaime, but provides no proof. This reads more as a way to slander the queen and the Kingslayer in the most provocative way possible. To what ends?” He let his hands gesture widely, “I cannot say, but I can say that my little birds have found no purchase on Dragonstone. Ships sail there and do not return. It is most troublesome.”
“What are you even accusing my brother of, Varys?” Renly asked. “Because I’m all for piling more shit on the man who did not do his duty, but speak plainly.”
“No accusation, my lord, only confusion.”
“Stannis is unfit, both as a lord of the Seven Kingdoms and as a brother. If he had known, or even suspected Cersei’s infidelity, he would have been honor-bound to speak of it. Why he only writes of it nearly a year later I know not, but regarding the accusation itself, it all fits. My lords, surely you see it? Edric Storm is black of hair and built like Robert. He may have Florent ears, but everything else is Baratheon, can you look at Tommen and see a single shred of Robert in him? Can any of you?”
“Yes,” I answered softly. “When Tommen is at play I hear his boisterous voice and his laugh is just like his father’s writ miniature. I once stumbled in his presence, and his eyes held the same concern that His Grace has looked at me with this very day. The coloration of their skin is the same and when they exert themselves they both redden in similar fashion. In terms of food, both have healthy appetites and are selective as to what they eat. They–”
Renly cut me off. “Mother’s Mercy, we shouldn’t listen to this drivel. Tommen is a lion’s get, not a stag’s. Are we to listen to this child’s foolishness? Now is the time for men to speak truths and not lean on old men, girls, and eunuchs.
I was running out of bullshit to spew, thank you for interrupting me.
“Renly,” Robert growled. “Guard your tongue, lest you lose it. You asked the question.”
He lowered his head with a bow. “Forgive me, but this day has been distressing. No doubt, far worse for someone like Sansa who must have been terrified, so scared that her wits are a jumble.” He turned to me. “I apologize for my rudeness, but it would truly be best for you to let the Grand Maester give you something to help you rest and recover from your ordeals. Talk of treason and bastardy,” he said as he turned back to Robert, “is no place for a girl her age, let alone one who must still be rattled by such grievous violence. Brother, you do her no kindness keeping her here. Let Edmure take her and go be with her sister.”
Well played.
Robert looked at me, frowned, then looked at his brother, then to Pycelle.
“The field dressing, did Barristan do a good job with it on my shoulder?”
Barristan’s head jerked in surprise and Pycelle looked confused.
“Ah, Your Grace? It was not stitched, because of lack of time no doubt, by the Lord Commander, but the use of honey was wise. The cloth used was tightly pressed to prevent further loss of vitality. It, ahem, was done well. I do not see…”
“As I thought,” Robert interrupted before the maester could speak further. “That was done by her hand, not Selmy’s. Lady Sansa was horrified by what occurred, but she kept her wits about her, better than most of you would. Stark women are cut from a different cloth. Were it not for her wolf, I would not be alive. She stays.”
Varys raised his eyebrows. Renly’s jaw clenched. Royce merely nodded. And talk continued.