Chapter 31
Arya had been worried when they arrived at the Tyrell manse and soldiers were arming themselves. A Tyrell officer had questioned Godwyn and then the wrinkly Tyrell lady had questioned Arya and Harwin. She’d been a bit rude. Margaery had chided her own grandmother and tried to comfort Arya, saying this was probably a scary time for her.
I wasn’t scared. I just knew something was wrong. I’m not a child!
She had been scared later when she heard Sansa had been hurt. But the stupid people who had retold the rumor were wrong. Jory ended up explaining that Sansa had been checked by a maester and she wasn’t hurt. Visha had killed Lannister soldiers who had tried to hurt her and the king, but both were physically fine. Jory had warned her that her sister might struggle with seeing such horrors and cautioned her to be gentle. Sansa had been so close to the fighting that when Visha had slain an attacker blood had washed over her.
Arya thanked the gods that her sister was safe. Jory’s advice was strange to her. She couldn’t imagine Sansa struggling with anything. It was nightfall before Arya was even able to see Sansa. As soon as she did she rushed over and hugged her.
“I’m all right, Arya.”
“They wouldn’t let me see you!”
“I was with the king. Important decisions need to be made soon.”
Jory cleared his throat and interrupted. “Lady Sansa, with what just happened I would like to post additional guards. The thought that while you were with the king we would not need to have one of our own defending you has proved unwise. We normally only have two to guard your door at night.”
Sansa considered. “I don’t want to wear out the group, especially since I may have other tasks for you.”
“My lady, Lord Stark commanded me that I obey you, but your safety must be paramount.”
“I will consider it. We may also want to see about expanding our guard. With trouble on the Wall I am loathe to strip the North of additional defenders, but even a dozen more dependable men of the North would be helpful.” Arya saw Sansa pause. “Also, there may be Kingsguard openings available soon, your family venerates both the old and the new gods, yes?”
“My lady?”
“Your uncle is a knight, have you considered it?”
“I’m must confess… confusion. What have I done to warrant such a placement?”
“Dependability. When we were trapped in the sitting room, Robert had doubts about most of the Kingsguard. It would be useful to have another dependable sword whose loyalty we can be sure of guarding His Grace. Due to the requirement of knighthood, the North has never had one of its own within the Kingsguard. That can change.”
“I… I don’t know what to say. My service is to your father. And the oaths…”
Sansa smiled. “I see, you don’t want a life of chastity with no bride and children of your own? Fair enough. Let me know in the next day or two if you change your mind, and if you don’t, talk with the other guards. While you are the better sword of the group, it is loyalty that is the chief criteria I am looking for.”
A very shaken Jory returned to guard the door and Sansa and Arya were finally alone.
“What happened? Tell me everything!”
Sansa whispered her response, “I shall. But some of what I say must be kept secret.”
Arya nodded solemnly and then listened in awe at the battle.
“You… you killed two of them?” Arya exclaimed.
“Shh, not so loud. Yes, I slew one guard in the entryway and then dealt with a second in the room itself. As a last resort I attempted to warg into Ser Jaime. That was horrible. I don’t recommend trying it as it left me weak and drained.”
Arya couldn’t believe it. After all her training with Syrio, it was Sansa who had fought as a warrior woman. Her earlier conversation with Jory came to mind. It was almost silly how wrong people were about Sansa.
Sansa went over the details of the fight, why she did what she did, and what she might have done differently in the future. Arya smiled at that. She wished she could tell Syrio of those details and see what he thought, but she had promised. Afterwards, Arya shared her own situation and what she had done. Sansa’s praise for her actions was high. When it came to the subject of the wolves’ behavior, Sansa had some thoughts there too.
“I suspect our wolves were reacting to the nervousness of the people around us.”
Arya shook her head. “No, it was more than that. I felt something was off. And the dreams. Don’t forget those. Remember the story of Daenys? What if I also have dreams of things yet to come?”
“I suspect the Targaryen bloodline is like our own in some sense. Maybe they were all skinchangers, just with a preference for dragons as opposed to canines. We know that our dreams have been different since bonding, because a bit of their minds, souls, or whatever you wish to call it mingles with our own. My working hypothesis… my working guess, is that if she were bonded to a dragon, that dragon may have sensed something with whatever draconic senses they had. Which led to bad dreams, which led to a fortuitous and timely departure. But actually seeing the future? Impossible.”
“Why not?”
Sansa sighed. “Lots of reasons. What future would a seer be able to see? The one that existed prior to their seeing, or the one they see that incorporates their sight?”
Arya’s brow furrowed in confusion. “I don’t understand.”
“Imagine a fork in the road. If you would have gone right, but you saw a vision of danger by going right, what would you do?”
“Well, if I was confident I could face the danger…”
Sansa made a face, and Arya stuck out her tongue.
“All right, yes, so if I saw the danger in the future to the right so I would go left.”
“Wonderful, so your vision was false. You went left instead of right.”
Arya bit her lip and tried to follow along with what she was saying.
“Because you saw the future, so I guess that means the future you see is the future that you would have had if you hadn’t seen a vision.”
Sansa shrugged. “Yes, if such a thing truly existed, but then what is seeing the future? How does the future ‘know’ of what is to come and it provides the right future to you? If the future, and all the billions of choices humanity makes, are somehow accurately accounted for, why couldn’t it account for future sight? Why is the seer alone able to avoid the ‘future’s’ ability to predict the result?”
“I don’t know. But I dreamed of a wounded lion and the Kingslayer ended up bleeding. You always tell me you have to follow the evidence of something, not just our assumptions.”
Sansa laughed. “Very good. But we only remember the dreams that may come true. How many other dreams do not come to pass? Eventually, something fits, or we convince ourselves it does. If Ser Pounce got scratched, one could easily say the ‘bleeding lion’ was Tommen’s pet cat. If Ser Jaime wasn’t wounded, would we then claim the dream meant a Lannister guardsman wearing the Lannister crest fit the dream? You see how it would be easy to fit your dream to any number of possibilities?”
Arguing with Sansa never works. Always an answer for everything.
Arya gave a shake of her head. “I’m happy you’re safe, Sansa. I still think you are wrong. Nymeria knew something was happening. She knew it. I knew it. I dreamed it.” As Sansa began to respond, Arya shook her head. “No, I don’t want to discuss it more. But… can you really make one of the guards a knight and part of the Kingsguard? Truly?”
Sansa smiled. “Oh, yes. I helped save His Grace’s life. I have coin to spend, not gold and silver, but of political favor. How I choose to spend it will be important, but I have some ideas.” She paused. “Arya, I enjoy having you here with me. Teaching you how to skinchange has been a joy, but if you want to return to Winterfell, I believe it can be arranged.”
Arya frowned. “But what about you?”
“Father is facing a foe of unknown strength and with unknown abilities. The murder of Lord Mormont has me greatly concerned. I have influence on the king, I can help rally the rest of the Seven Kingdoms, should it prove necessary.”
She thought about it for a moment. “I… I miss Winterfell. Our parents and our brothers. But… I can’t leave you here alone.” Arya considered her words. “You say you have political favor, and like coin, you intend to spend it. You do not need to spend it on me. And you need someone else to watch your back when it comes to skinchanging. It’s risky to bring someone else into it.”
Sansa nodded, a bigger smile than normal on her face.
“Thank you, Arya.”
They hugged and soon an exhausted Sansa drifted to sleep.
***
The events of yesterday had been both exciting and frightening, as well as momentous. As the morning dawned, much was still occurring. City Watch officers were being arrested, as had most of the Lannister guardsmen. Vale and Reach men-at-arms joined the Baratheon guards in seeing to it.
“I won’t stay for long, only the gods know what Robert will do listening to the parade of fools he has on the small council. Royce is the only one with sense, and he hews to a middle road in this,” Renly said, clearly vexed.
“Best someone keep a cool head,” her grandmother replied sharply, “if you seek to grasp too much too soon, you invite your brother’s wrath.”
Margaery watched the byplay between her grandmother and Renly.
“I know my brother better than you. Tarry too long, and the chance slips from us. Don’t you want your granddaughter as the queen? Don’t you want your blood on the Iron Throne?”
"No, not particularly. I am not my son. I was born with a little more sense."
Margaery laughed. “Lord Renly, please, do not spar words with her. She is the Queen of Thorns for a reason. In truth, what you say entices me, but I… I have gone to him before, and it ended in disaster. I fear that, should I attempt again, he will see me in a poor light. Especially since I am now betrothed to Ser Edmure. The comparison with the queen’s own adultery will do me no favors. That is Sansa’s uncle.”
Renly let out a heavy exhalation. “Sansa,” he said with bitterness. “She is ruining everything.”
“My love,” Ser Loras said openly, for it was just the four of them, “her wolf saved your brother. Speak softer, she is Margaery’s friend.”
Renly took her brother’s hand in his, kissed it, and set it back down. “As you say. I mislike the influence she has on Robert. The girl is fond of Tommen and Myrcella and that may well cause my brother not to see the truth that is so clearly evident. It frustrates me greatly. Perhaps because I was so instrumental in convincing Robert to keep her and her sister hostage. Being struck with one’s own lance is a sore thing.”
“What is Cersei saying?” her grandmother’s irritated voice brought Renly’s telling of the events back around.
“Pycelle has convinced the king not to allow her to be put to proper question. She is to be treated gently for the moment. And yet, she speaks, and raves, but much has been useful. Cersei denies that her children are bastards. She denies that she slept with her brother. But when it became clear that Ser Kevan stated she had already confessed, she changed her tune.”
Renly took a large swallow from his cup and continued.
“Cersei says she knew, but too late. That the Imp was the mastermind behind the coup.” Renly laughed. “She also accuses her uncle of working with him and that when Cersei tried to bring it to the king’s attention, her guards prevented her from leaving her rooms on their orders. When Robert didn’t believe her she demanded trial by combat.”
Margaery frowned. “Will that be granted?”
Renly shrugged. “Robert has foolish ideas at times, but there’s no need. She has not voiced the request in open court, for she will not be allowed in open court.”
Margaery saw her brother’s countenance shift. “But that would be dishonorable. Whatever else she is, she is still a noble. It is her right.”
Renly looked at Loras in surprise. “Be reasonable. One cannot attack the king, be defeated, and then request a trial by combat. Jaime already had his. No, I’ll ensure Robert isn’t so stupid as to allow it.”
“What of Lord Tyrion?” Margaery asked.
“Arrested as well. Though it is strange. He is claiming he had no part in it, but that he was assaulted by the Hound of all people. He had the wounds on his hand to prove that someone manhandled him. Guilty or no, it is useful if we execute all three of Tywin’s children and disinherit his grandchildren.”
Loras looked outraged, but Margaery thought she knew what Renly was doing.
“You mean to not just prick the Old Lion’s pride, you want to enrage him and force him into war,” Margaery said directly.
Renly’s smile widened. "There is that sharp wit of yours again, Margaery. The Lannisters need not just face setback, they must be destroyed. His wealth is a danger all its own. Few nobles could afford the ruinous price of a Faceless Man, but Tywin could. The Westerlands and their deep veins of gold can go to the Tyrells, and if you are set on marrying the fish lord, to the Riverlands as well. We will be far stronger, more secure, and it will all be for the better.”
Loras stood up abruptly.
“I have a sudden desire to help aid with the arrests. Sister, Grandmother, good day.”
Renly blinked. “What burr is within his saddle? He has no love for the Lannisters.”
“You are an even bigger oaf at times than my son. How can you share my grandson’s bed and not realize the sort of man he is?”
The Lord of Storm’s End still looked confused. Margaery explained.
“My lord, he takes his oaths of knighthood seriously. He and Garlan are true knights. Your talk of ignoring the traditional rights of a noble at trial and of caring not if Lord Tyrion is guilty has offended him. It is one thing to remove a vile queen through the charms of the flesh; it is another to so openly speak as you did.”
Renly winced. “Aye, sometimes I forget his youth. I am just eager to put an end to the threat of the Westerlands. I will explain it to him and make my apologies.” The man’s face brightened. “I know the perfect way. The plan was always to have him serve on the Kingsguard once Margaery was queen. I have no intention of ever ruling from Storm’s End, the place is dreary. Queen or not, I will convince Robert to name him once we’ve dealt with the traitors.”
Margaery smiled. “He will love that. It has been his dream since his youth.”
“What are the fates of those who currently wear the white cloaks?” her grandmother asked.
“Ser Meryn, Ser Mandon, and Ser Preston have all been disarmed and are under guard. Well, Meryn and Mandon are, Preston is in a cell. Ser Boros seems to have not been a part of it, but it isn’t clear as of yet. Ser Arys was vouched for by Ser Barristan. At a minimum we will have one replacement, and I suspect there will be four. Robert likes Loras, it will be easy to convince him.”
Margaery was pleased. Loras would be so very happy. She still felt a longing for the prestige and power of being the queen, but she had spoken truthfully. Trying again with Robert would not go the way Renly thought. Maybe if she had not already been betrothed to Edmure, but the timing of it all had dashed it. The king doted on Sansa and Sansa seemed to like her uncle well enough.
I was correct in keeping Sansa close and continuing our friendship. She was wise enough not to be too direct when appealing for the master of coin position for my family, but that it ended up being Tyrion proved that her words carried weight. A wealthy family had been selected. It turned to ill, but it merely reinforces that she can wheedle much from the king. Now… what is the best way for me to make use of that? Directly through Sansa or through Edmure.
She had much to speak of with her grandmother. This was such an exciting time and even without becoming the queen, the chance to raise the Tyrell standing was there for the taking.
***
Fury burned through Jon’s veins. That the message was being relayed a bit slower than speech was all the more maddening. Lady Catelyn had sat down and put her hand to her heart as Sansa communicated what had happened. Yes, she was unharmed, but only due to Visha, Ser Barristan and the king overcoming great odds.
“Father has called the banners, and many are marching to the Wall. But can some be routed to the south? The Lannisters must pay for this. There can be no doubt that they were responsible for trying to murder Bran and now they nearly killed Sansa!” Robb thundered.
The cat’s tail flicked and was replying that the problem of the Wall had to take precedence and that it would be best if there was no war.
“Sansa is right,” Lady Catelyn said. “Your father has written of the dangers. The wildlings are numerous, and their profane use of the dead should not be underestimated. Let the king deal with the lions he welcomed into his bed.”
Robb looked fit to burst. “I know. I know! But how can we tolerate so many insults to our house? We must do something!”
It burns at us, but Father needs all the men he can get.
Sansa continued telling them that much was still unknown as to how everything would be resolved. The king had different advisors suggesting different fates for those involved and what would happen with the Westerlands. Much may depend on what the Lannisters at Casterly Rock would do.
“I cannot bear to be apart from you, my daughter. Once we have heard word by raven, I will demand you be returned to us. You were nearly killed, what would have happened without your direwolf? The king must see that King’s Landing is not safe. First the Trident, then Cersei poisoned, and now butchery in the Royal Apartments.”
Robb was nodding as well. “And Father was proven right by all of this! If the Kingslayer and the queen tried to kill the king, then it lends weight to the idea that they killed Lord Arryn. Father never did anything wrong. If the king has any shred of honor in him, he must return you.”
Jon could only shake his head as Sansa disagreed with that as well. She told them not to make demands of the king, because so many already were. That by focusing on the North and not pestering him, they stood a greater chance of being successful. Her final argument was that after such a brazen attack, the security of the Red Keep and the city itself would be taken far more seriously and that she would be safer than ever.
Bran, who had remained silent up until that moment, asked a question.
“Sansa, Summer and the other wolves were howling on the day the attack took place. Can our wolves warg into each other? Or was it some of that partial skin-slipping you were trying to teach us, where you only borrow a single sense?”
Not all the wolves had howled. Ghost had remained his customary silent self, but he had been very agitated as well. Jon recalled feeling a sense of worry fill him.
Sansa communicated that she wasn’t sure, but she supposed that was possible and could explain some things. Jon wished she was here and not so far away. He was eager to attempt the ‘skinchanger sparring’ but Sansa was delaying that, saying that she needed to keep her strength and wits about her as she navigated the events of King’s Landing.
“Sansa, you must be careful,” Lady Catelyn warned. “You’ve seen how deadly the Game of Thrones can be, do not put yourself at risk. Say only that you miss home. Let events happen as they may.”
She replied dutifully, but Jon wondered. Sansa rarely trusted any wisdom that was not her own. Bran had a strange look on his face. As Jon helped him to his room with Hodor he hoped to comfort him.
“Don’t worry. Jory and the other guards will redouble their efforts. And they have Visha and Nymeria; they will be well protected.”
“I know. I didn’t want to say it with Mother around, but Sansa wasn’t telling all.”
“Oh? Are you an expert in telling if cat’s lie?”
Bran made a face. “It isn’t about lying, but about not saying everything. I saw it. I don’t know how, but I did, in my dream. Sansa killed two of the guards herself.”
Jon stared at him in disbelief.
“How?”
“A knife to a vein in the neck and then another to the leg. She caught them unawares.”
Jon wasn’t sure what to make of that, but decided to praise him on the important part.
“Wise of you not to say anything to your mother. It would only worry her.”
“We should try having a warg spar soon, Jon. If Sansa is busy, then we do it ourselves. Father needs help.”
Jon was uneasy with that. Sansa had described how painful it had felt, and how drained she had been. Without the use of his legs, Bran would never ride into battle like Jon and Robb one day would. So it was natural that he was eager to learn the arts of a skinchanger. But he was also a young boy, and come new to this. It would be irresponsible to do so, and he knew if he asked Sansa or Lady Catelyn they would say no.
“I will consider it, Bran, just don’t try anything on your own.”
Bran agreed and Jon’s sleep was troubled as he turned the idea over in his mind every which way.
***
“I am glad to see you are feeling better today, Sansa,” Robert said soothingly. His head still pounded from the wine he had consumed the night before. He had not meant to drink so much, but stormy thoughts kept swirling through his head.
Is it true? If only I could say for certain.
“Thank you, Your Grace. It was good to bathe, speak with my sister, and rest. Forgive me for saying so, but you do not look like you have rested at all.”
Robert gave a dark chuckle.
“I’ve had little and less, ‘tis true, I’ve been asked to be updated on what the latest lies the Lannisters tell. But I had some rest.”
“I had heard Lord Tyrion was clapped in irons as well. May I ask why?”
“Varys is investigating the truth of it, but Cersei has named him as the one behind this plot. Pycelle has convinced me not to use the pincers, ugly business that it is, for the moment. But if I cannot make sense of it, then we might have need to.”
Sansa frowned, and Robert cursed inwardly. Such talk was not for ladies.
“Father never made use of them. He said that when you push a man past his ability to withstand the torment, the tongue runs free with any lie that comes to mind to get the suffering to end. Your Grace, it is not my place, but I am very well read and at times rulers have pondered the issue on how to discern the truth.”
Robert looked at her with curiosity. “What ways?”
“One way is to keep would-be conspirators separately and then obtain their detailed account. Indicate that one of their friends has betrayed them, and offer a chance at mercy if they themselves confirm what happened. Perhaps even name others. This lends itself to more lies, but since there is informational asymmetry, they run the risk of making things worse if they tell further falsehoods. In essence, it is a game, if they speak truth that we believe they receive a measure of mercy. If they speak a falsehood, then whatever mercy was offered will be removed, and we can even make them think their fate will be all the worse.”
He wished he was more sober so that he could better understand what she was saying.
“You want to bribe them, but if they lie you take away the bribe and harm them?”
She moved her head in not quite a nod or a shake. “In a way. I think it might be best to perhaps demonstrate. Another element is the use of two different parties present. One who appears to intend mercy, and one who is full of wrath. There was a rare text that spoke of the merciful guard and the cruel one. The contrast between the two caused the prisoner to put their faith in the merciful one, and they ended up sharing all they knew. Again, if you are willing to indulge in some mummery we could perhaps begin with Ser Mandon Moore.”
“Mandon? I think the cur is guilty already. I’ll have his head on a pike for this.”
“The Wall would be a mercy, and whatever else he is, he is skilled at arms. The Wall will need men if they are to fight the dangers of the wildlings and the wights.”
Sansa Stark, ever the dutiful daughter. Ned has been gifted with his children in a way that I never will.
“I’d not wish to repay such base treason with any sort of mercy. And he is of the Kingsguard, they serve for life, which means we would be short a member while he resides on the Wall.”
Sansa lowered her eyes. “But why? It is only a Targaryen custom. The dragon kings were fools, if there is even a hint of doubt of the people who would keep you and your family safe, they should be dismissed. And yet, how could one subject someone unto death on mere suspicion? I would feel ever so much safer if we could be certain of your protectors. My sister… my sister is also dependent on them doing their duty and securing the Royal Apartments.”
Robert’s eyes grew wide. What she said made so much sense. Why did they keep all the trappings of the old kings? Jon was the reason. He had said that everything should be kept the same, save it was Robert wearing the crown. But Sansa spoke sense, and it was more than fair that she wished to feel secure within the Royal Apartments.
“Oh, and there is precedent. Ser Lucamore Strong broke his vows while serving under King Jaehaerys. He too was sent to the Night’s Watch.”
Well, that sealed it. He trusted Sansa to be correct about the histories.
“You have the right of it, Sansa. I am the king; I should be able to dismiss any of the Kingsguard. But I still want to see Ser Mandon and the rest of the traitors dead. They nearly killed you.”
“Ser Rodrik trained my brothers in the yard. He was a knight, a rarity in the North, but the oaths taken seem proper. He, as have all the knights of the realm, has sworn to be just. If mercy can yield the truth and allow for those truly guilty to face justice, and those truly innocent not be unfairly punished, then I would beg of you to take that course.”
Robert’s head hurt. Her words made sense, but his desire to see the bastards pay for their crimes warred with it.
Maybe the fool will lie and he dies anyway. I owe it to Sansa. Were it not for her and her wolf I would be dead.
“If you followed the faith of the Seven, the septon would claim you spoke with the wisdom of the Crone and the mercy of the Mother. Very well, let us visit Ser Mandon and see what he has to say.”
Sansa smiled in gratitude. “Thank you, Your Grace. Now… part of this requires some mummery on your part. It also requires me to spend some time alone with him, so I would ask that he be properly secured before we enter. For your part…”
***
He reasoned that his only hope was sticking to his tale that he had only done as the queen commanded and had no inkling of what they had intended. He had even told the eunuch that if he had truly been a part of it, he would have been by Ser Jaime’s side to do the deed as he was one of the better swords of the Kingsguard.
His sword, cloak and armor had been stripped of him, but he was not in a cell. There was perhaps a faint hope he would get out of this with his life and position intact. When the Baratheon guards entered and clapped irons to him and secured him to the chair, he feared they would begin the sharp questioning he had initially expected. Mandon did not welcome it, but he was no craven. A day or two of withstanding awful torment compared to losing his head was a small price to pay.
He did not expect the king, or the Stark bitch and the direwolf to enter.
“Moore, the Spider tells me you were just following orders and knew nothing of the attack. But I think you are full of shit. I think I’ll have you tied to a post and use you as a pell. My hammer hasn’t been used of late.”
“Forgive me, Your Grace, but I am innocent. I take my oaths to the Kingsguard, to you, and to the knighthood itself seriously. You were raised in the Vale, you know how strongly we are wedded to our honor.”
The king advanced and grabbed him by his shirt.
“Jaime killed my squire! He nearly killed my ward, and you claim you know nothing?”
“Forgive me, Your Grace. I do not.”
Sansa reached out and touched Robert’s arm as it was clenched into a fist.
“Your Grace, you promised. The Kingsguard were always kind to me, save for Ser Jaime on that day. Please, let us hear him out.”
The king glared at Mandon, not looking at Sansa. “Fine, for my failure to properly protect you from my own bloody guards, I owe you that much. Speak.”
Mandon recalled that Sansa always addressed him by name, even on occasion asked how he fared. He had paid it little mind and offered nothing beyond common courtesy, but perhaps that was more than others had done for the girl. He suspected that she had been shunned after Lord Stark’s departure by most of the court before it became clear that Robert favored her.
“I knew of no treason. The queen asked me to protect her family that day and ordered Ser Meryn to raise the drawbridge. Later, when Ser Kevan was without, she ordered it lowered. If she has said otherwise, then she was wise enough not to reveal her treason to me, for I would have not taken part in it.”
Robert slammed his hands on the table. “See? He lies! This was a waste of time.”
There was pity in Sansa's eyes. A knock at the door interrupted them.
“Your Grace, the Grand Maester has a raven that he insists must be delivered to you.”
“I’ll be back in a few moments. Wait here,” the king said gruffly.
Mandon watched him leave and then saw the Stark girl lean in.
“Ser Mandon, please, I beg of you, the King is most wroth, in a way I’ve never seen. He’s going to have Ser Jaime flayed.”
“I am speaking the truth, Lady Sansa.”
“Forgive me, ser. But I’m trying to save your life. You were kind, when so many other knights would not even look at me. We already heard Ser Preston’s confession… if you are honest and direct, you’ll be allowed to exchange your white cloak for a black one. The Wall is where my father is, he’ll need good swords around him.”
“My lady, I cannot profane my oaths and lie. I am innocent of this charge against me.”
Sansa’s pretty face crumpled. “Ser, repeat this to no one,” she looked furtively at the door. “But others have already confessed. They claim you said the following: ‘He won’t believe it, Your Grace, a better ploy would be to find someone he trusts and say that the ‘traitors’ have been slain.’ I cannot bear the thought of another knight caught up in the queen’s schemes to suffer a flaying. Did you know the Boltons once did that to my ancestors, my father…”
Mandon half-listened at the girl’s story of her family history with flaying as he realized others had already confessed not just their crimes, but his as well.
The Wall. Not a fate I would desire, but better than… the alternatives.
“Lady Sansa, do you speak true? His Grace will allow me to take the black?”
“Yes, but only if you speak the truth. In recompense for what he sees as a failure to protect me properly from this treason, he has agreed to send many to the Wall to aid the Night’s Watch against the threat of the wildlings and the rising dead. But if you speak more untruths, he will do… it is monstrous.”
Mandon breathed out heavily. He didn't believe the foolish tales of wights and snarks, nor all the other nonsense the incompetents of the Wall claimed.
“Aye, then I will confess. Cersei ordered the king’s death.”
A short while later Robert returned and Mandon told all. Of Ser Meryn’s treachery. Of Ser Preston. Of Janos Slynt and the City Watch officers. Captain Tregar and several others. Robert looked surprised, which gave Mandon pause, but he was already deep within his confession.
“So the queen did not tell her uncle? Her other brother?”
“I was not privy to all of her counsels, nor did she regularly seek mine out. I know she quarreled with both, but that is all. I merely did as I was ordered to do by the queen.”
“But not your king, the one you swore oaths to. Sansa wishes for leniency, to send you to the Wall, but what proof do I have that you will not become a turncoat even there?”
“Your Grace…” he said helplessly.
“Your Grace,” Sansa said. “You know my father’s plight. The Wall needs swords. Ser Mandon found his conscience, it should count for something.”
“As you say then, my lady,” Robert answered with a frown. “You will speak in court of what you have said and then be allowed to take the Black.”
“Yes, Your Grace, I thank you for your mercy.”