Chapter 42
Ser Gladden of the Kingsguard had been the one to arrest Davos. Davos had not resisted as the men stormed in, at least not until one of the guardsmen had roughly shoved Stannis during the arrest. Davos had objected… strenuously and had received a mailed fist to the ribs for his troubles. Those ribs still ached when dawn came and he found himself pushed into a small room where the king waited.
Robert was red-eyed and furious. The man’s hands clenched and unclenched. His features were molten and even though the heat of the day had not yet arrived, he was sweating. Davos was in shackles that were then secured to the heavy table. Beside the king was Lady Sansa Stark. She wore a pale blue dress and was without any adornments. No gold or silver were at her throat, ear, or wrist.
“You.” Robert sneered. “What did you know of this plot?”
“Your Grace,” Davos bowed his head, “I do not know of what you speak. What plot? Why was your brother arrested?”
“You counsel my brother, and you expect me to believe you didn’t know? That you weren’t in league with that witch from Asshai?”
What has she done?
Davos had been pleased to see so much less of Melisandre around Stannis of late, but it seemed that had turned out not to be good.
“Please, Your Grace, what plot do you speak of?”
Sansa rubbed at her wrist. “The bracelet I most recently began to wear, did you notice it?”
Davos nodded. He had seen her wear it a time or two.
“Did you not see how alike the stone was to the one she wore on her choker?”
His brow furrowed. He supposed it did, and for his part, he tried not to stare at Melisandre. But he had noticed the gem.
“I suppose it does look similar, my lady.”
Sansa smiled. “I take it then that you didn’t know she had enchanted it?”
Seven help me… she did what?
“N-no, I did not think such a thing was possible. I follow the Seven, and when my lord asks for my opinion, I’ve told him not to trust her. He would never take part in any sort of scheme. He’s an honorable man. A good man. He would never–”
“Liar!” Robert roared and slammed the table, causing the chain to jerk.
Davos flinched away by instinct.
“Your Grace,” Sansa spoke quietly, “you promised.”
Davos saw Robert turn to Sansa. “I did, but you cannot expect me to listen to this wretch lie to his KING!”
Sansa turned away from the king and back to him.
“Ser, your actions saved many lives at Storm’s End. Even in the North they admire how you kept His Grace’s brothers alive with your actions. I don’t want you and your family to suffer for what another has done. Please, tell us what you know of Melisandre’s actions.”
Thoughts came unbidden to his mind. Of his wife, Marya. His sons, Dale, Allard, Matthos, Maric, Devan, Stannis, and Steffon. He swallowed thickly, remembering what Tywin Lannister had done to Rhaenys and Aegon Targaryen. How Robert had rewarded him for it.
“I… I’ll never betray my lord, but there is nothing to betray. I swear by the Seven that I had no knowledge of any sort of sorcery other than the priestess looking into the flames. I still have no idea what she had done other than what you have told me.”
Robert stood up and then towered over Davos, fists tightly clenched.
“What she has done? She tried to enslave my ward’s mind! She slipped her whore into my bed. My own mind was clouded and she involved me in some blood magic. And yet you still have the gall to plead ignorance.”
Robert grabbed Davos by the throat and squeezed and Sansa was up grabbing at his arm.
“Your Grace, Your Grace, stop, please!”
Davos felt his neck constrict as pressure built in his head at the grip. It did not last long, otherwise that fearsome strength may well have killed him.
Robert released him and gently pulled away from Sansa.
“I’m done with him. Guards, take him to the Black Cell. Bring his family to King’s Landing, I’ll not have traitors’ blood still breathing in my realm.”
“Robert!” Sansa cried out. “Please, for the love you bear my father, let me speak with him. Let me learn of what transpired between Melisandre and your brother. If I find anything useful, spare his family at the least. My father always spoke highly of your mercy. How you didn’t kill Ser Barristan after the Trident despite him killing many loyal knights in your cause. Please, Your Grace.”
The king glowered at Sansa, but the auburn-haired girl stood up to him bravely.
“Fine! But only because you were also harmed. If Ser Davos cooperates with you and you are satisfied with his answers, then they’ll live. But I make no promises about Davos himself.”
Robert stalked out of the room and slammed the door behind him.
Sansa breathed out heavily and wiped at her eyes.
“I’m sorry, ser. He is full of wrath. What Lady Melisandre did was something evil, by the old gods and the new. The king nearly died, and I’ve had my wits interfered with. I… I promise you that regardless of what you say, I will intercede on behalf of your family. But if you could provide me anything useful, it might stay his hand, not just against you, but mayhaps even his brother.”
Davos was grateful for Sansa, but he had nothing to give. “My lady… thank you,” he choked up, for he was thankful. She may well have saved his wife and children. “But I swear it again, I knew nothing of this plot.”
She nodded and stretched out her hand to briefly grasp his shackled one. “I believe you, but I must provide His Grace something. Perhaps… perhaps you can tell me more about Lady Melisandre’s prior visions? What specifically she told Lord Baratheon. Any details that you could provide would help me plead on your behalf.”
Davos looked at the earnest girl before him and slowly nodded. He would tell her what he knew and prayed that the king would see reason.
***
Robert wondered if that bit of mummery was too much. It had been easy to let slip his rage over what had happened, but it was doubtful a man like Ser Davos knew anything. Sansa had spoken of the wisdom of creating as sharp a contrast as possible. The idea that he would harm the knight's wife and children was ridiculous, but the threat would serve its purpose.
Such Essosi means of interrogation would not work for his brother and Robert wondered if Stannis may well have been ignorant of what the scheming sorceress had been doing. Unlike Davos, Stannis was being treated respectfully and was simply confined to one of the rooms of the Red Keep. Guarded, but given food, wine, and the other comforts appropriate for his station as the king’s brother and an important lord of the realm.
“What is the meaning of this travesty?” Stannis demanded when Robert entered with Ser Barristan.
“Why don’t you tell me, brother? Your pet witch involved me in blood magic and tried to compel my ward. Sansa is my responsibility. Her safekeeping and protection are my duty. A woman who you brought to the city violated every sacred requirement as a guest. What do you have to say about it?”
His brother’s annoying habit of grinding his teeth sparked Robert’s annoyance as he waited. Finally Stannis bit out. “I have no idea what she has done, if she has even done anything, nor would I have allowed her to do whatever blood magic you seem to be suggesting. What is it that you claim she has even done?”
Robert explained. How Raya, a whore, had suggested things to him. That the woman had only arrived after Stannis and Melisandre. He explained how he had been convinced to drip blood in the socket of the bracelet before the stone was added to it. Then came what Sansa had told him and how it had pushed her thoughts.
Stannis narrowed his eyes with deep suspicion.
“Why do you claim this was Melisandre when it was the whore who you slept with that did all this?”
“Witches don’t grow from trees! She claims magic, suddenly magic is being worked. Oh, and where is your red priestess? She cannot be found anywhere, nor can the whore!”
His brother looked down, then looked back up. “It is suspicious. I will not deny it.” The jaw muscles worked as he spat out the words. “I had nothing to do with it. All she told me was to be patient and you would rescind your short-sighted ruling about the succession. I thought progress was being made, that she saw in her flames you seeing reason…”
“Reason!? Only because of that damn bracelet! She corrupted Sansa’s mind with it.”
Stannis snorted. “How does corrupting her mind convince you to do what was right? You embraced the truth once you heard it, no matter the source of it.”
Robert laughed. “I’ll not mince words with you about this. You’ve failed me yet again. I don’t think you would have the stones to ever try to poison me with magic. You’re too stiff of neck to ever agree to that, but you willingly turned a blind eye. I can’t trust you anymore.”
His brother’s blue eyes burned. “Robert, listen to me. You must. This is bigger than the Iron Throne, this is bigger than your petty slights and insults. I need to be able to rally everyone against the Great Other.”
Robert sneered. “You had your chance. I was more than willing to have you go up and help Ned. Now you’ll be lucky if I don’t attaint you fully.”
Stannis growled. “I am Azor Ahai reborn. I am the only man who can stand against what is coming. Do you think I wanted this cup to pass to me? It is my duty. I must do it.”
Sansa’s thoughts on my brother were right. The poor fool.
He shook his head. “A second son to the last, eh? It must have been sweet to your ears to hear that you were more important than me. That you had a destiny,” Robert spoke the word with utter contempt and mockery, “that only you could fulfill. She whispered what you always wanted. To be king. To be a hero. To be respected by all. To be given your due.”
Stannis had grown pale. A rictus of fury was drawn upon his face. Barristan adjusted his stance, though Stannis was unarmed.
“You… you think I am you writ small?” He angrily shook his head. “No, that is you Robert. You’ve always wanted glory and to be loved by others. All I care about is my duty. You let that slip of a girl who reminds you of Lyanna to whisper foulness in your ear. She wants me to be deposed, ruined, and powerless simply because I cast aspersions on Jaime’s bastard. It is a wonder she hasn’t just decided to skip Tommen altogether.”
There was a time, less than a year ago, where fury would have gripped him and he would have hurt, mayhaps even accidentally killed, his brother for those words. It didn’t come, however.
When you tear out a man’s tongue, you are not proving him a liar.
Truly, Sansa was wise beyond her years. Instead of growing angry, he actually got amused, because Stannis was so very, very, wrong. Despite all that Stannis had done, despite what he now stood accused of, Sansa had argued that he too was a victim. That he had been tricked and made a fool of by gifted mummery and magic. If Robert himself had unwittingly poured out his blood to fuel a spell, what chance did his ever-pining for glory and esteem brother have to resist the charms of Melisandre and her people?
Sansa had opposed stripping him of Dragonstone. Had opposed making him take the Black or confining him. She had argued that her father still needed good men to fight by his side. She said that Stannis may be blinded by his inadequacies, may have spent a lifetime of being within Robert’s shadow, but fundamentally he had acted within what he believed was the bounds of honor and duty.
So when Stannis accused Sansa of all the worst sorts of motivations, even implying that she might have tried to bed him for power, it showed just how easily misled Stannis was. When Stannis spoke of her trying to poison Robert against his brother and advocating for stripping his titles, it was not only wrong, it was so far off the mark that it had become more absurd than a mummer’s tale.
“Is that the way you see it?” Robert asked.
Stannis paused, scowled and looked away for a moment.
“The last was wrong of me. Base rumors should not be repeated.”
Base rumors indeed.
There had been talk, but there was always talk at court. Sansa had visited him and others in private without a septa. He had also been curious, especially when he was still of mind to find a different match for Sansa. Robert had asked Varys on what Sansa thought of men, if certain knights and lords had caught her eye. His master of whisperers had reported back that Sansa was completely silent on the matter. While the likes of Jeyne, Margery, and Elinor talked openly of who they found handsome, Sansa demurred. The very idea that the daughter of the prim Lady Catelyn and the honorable Lord Stark was so some sort of seductress and slattern was so absurd that the accusation never held a shred of possibility.
And she’s too young besides.
“I’m not in the forgiving mood. You are wrong about Sansa, entirely.” Robert gave an amused chuckle. “It is amusing, Renly says she is soft-hearted and a fragile flower. What do you think, Selmy? Is she a wilting flower?”
“No, Your Grace.”
“And here you stand, accusing her of being a vile gossip who seeks to tear down others with a heart of stone. You are wrong. She does have a soft heart though. More guts than half the knights of the realm, yet still sees the best in others.” His smile drooped. “Even in me. She does not think of vengeance against you for bringing that witch to our door, but of mercy. She doesn’t want you ruined; she wants you to remain the Lord of Dragonstone. But you’ve made clear to me that you aren’t fit for it.”
I was already halfway there, but your words have decided it. Without this, you would always be a dagger at my son’s back.
“Maybe you never were. You’ll take the Black, if your self-serving, absurd, and utterly ridiculous prophecy of being Azor Ahai is true, you’ll have your chance to fight the Others, or the Great Other,” he waved his hand dismissively, “whatever the conniving bitch called it.”
“Robert,” Stannis went to argue but Robert held his hand.
“Enough. Shireen will inherit Dragonstone, but your wife will not. I’ll appoint someone trusted to oversee it and have her fostered elsewhere.”
“She is my daughter!”
“And she will be well-provided for! If she wishes to visit you upon the Wall when she is older, I’ll even arrange that.”
Stannis lost his upright bearing. “Where?”
“I will inform you when I have made a decision. Storm’s End mayhaps, but I’m not satisfied with how Renly was raised either. Perhaps Winterfell, but as Ned always says, winter is coming, and it might not be the best place for a child at such a time. Perhaps on Greenstone with our grandfather.” Robert walked to the door and then turned his neck about. “I’ll ask Sansa what would be best.”
***
I was rather exhausted after everything, having received less than an hour of sleep, but there were a lot of things that needed doing. After the arrest order went out, a quick meeting of the small council had been called and I had explained what had happened. There was a mixture of doubt, concern, and confusion. Renly aimed a few gentle barbs at my reliability, but when he saw the opportunity to speak ill of his brother Stannis, he backed off and then became quite adamant in having Stannis properly punished for his warlock-like behavior.
Does he think he is slick?
I had argued against sending him to the Wall. Robert had also been tricked by his bedmate. Why would Stannis be immune to magical effects that could cloud the mind? Melisandre had been on Dragonstone for years. I also wanted him to focus on what mattered. Helping my father and keeping things stable. Stripping lords and upending the eastern seaboard after all the changes to the small council, the issue with the queen and the Kingsguard, and everything else was starting to get too much. Stability mattered more than justice, and if Robert himself wasn’t guilty for his part in this nonsense, then how could Stannis be?
I didn’t want to sound too ardent about anything, as that would skew the way people saw me, as playing too openly the game of thrones, but damn it, why not send him to the Wall with a host of swords and not as a Black Brother.
I thought I had Robert halfway convinced, but after our good cop/bad cop routine with Ser Davos, I had stayed to get as many details as I could on everything Melisandre had done on Dragonstone. Every word she uttered, to the best of his recollection, and who all was most convinced by what she said and who was doubtful. It was an exhausting amount of information and by the time I was done, someone had gotten to Robert and convinced him to send Stannis to the Wall.
Well, no use in pressing once he’s staked his position so firmly.
He had asked me where I thought Shireen should be fostered and all of his suggestions were not bad. I leaned toward Winterfell, my parents had raised my siblings well, and she would be physically closer to her father. My mother might even want to care for another daughter-like figure with both Arya and me stuck in King’s Landing.
Shit, I have to warg into Anna at some point. Mother will be worried.
But no, the best place was right here in King’s Landing. Here I could ensure that Shireen got along well with Tommen and Myrcella. I could also attempt to befriend her as at a cursory glance we had several things in common. Both of us had fathers who had fallen from King’s good graces at some point, I had been a theoretical pariah after my despoiling and of course she had her greyscale. In the future, whoever Shireen wed could seek to push their own son’s claim to the Iron Throne at some point, regardless of Robert’s disinheriting. If Shireen remained on good terms with the royal family, I could stave off any such potential in the future. Hopefully.
The greyscale was a reason not to bring Shireen to court, but if need be she could be cloistered in the Royal Apartments. It wasn’t contagious at this point.
“You already have two noble ladies as your wards, why not make it three?” I paused. “Arya could use another companion around her age, and she did help resolve this issue with the priestess.”
That was what the king needed. He took my advice, could see himself as acting in favor of one who may well have saved him from magical harm, and could do right by his blood. Neatly packaged in a way that checked off all the boxes. Some of my other asks would be harder.
“Sansa, with your brush with such terrible sorcery, why would you want to invite others to court? I ought to have blood magic and all witchcraft outlawed,” the king spoke angrily.
“I’m sure most of the people who claim to be able to do magic are simple folk spinning a yarn. Let us not see poor innocents suffer due to Melisandre’s cruelty.” I paused meaningfully, and then let my voice drop a fraction. “I can only say that I am fearful of what I do not know. Visha can protect me from physical harm. I need not fear violation from brigands and… foul men, but she can’t protect me from someone like that. Someone who can violate my very thoughts. I don’t feel safe, Your Grace. But perhaps, perhaps if we understood more how sorcery functioned, we could know what will defend us from it.”
When Joffrey had shown himself to be so irrational, I had acted quickly when the opportunity presented itself. I had not realized at the time just how much mileage I would be getting from the lie. As always, the call back to the events of the Trident did the trick.
“Seven hells, you are right. What do you need?”
I took in a breath and thanked him. I made my list. I wanted time with the Hand to discuss the legends regarding the runes of his house. I would be sending letters to the Citadel demanding they provide additional maesters and books that mention any sort of magic. More word would be sent to Essos and we would request emissaries from Qarth and other places that claimed to hold sorcerous powers. The Alchemists’ guild had rebuffed me, but now I had the king’s ear and their claim of spells would allow me to compel them to give me everything I wanted.
Or I’ll send them to the Wall wearing the Black.
“Your Grace, perhaps even a permanent advisor on the small council to delve into matters of the arcane and the threats they pose to the crown. While this would border on Ser Barristan, Lord Varys, and the Grand Maester’s roles, I believe the uniqueness and emphasis of the role may deserve its own seat. A temporary one at least.”
Robert grinned. “I think I know just the girl for the role!”
“Girl? I was going to suggest Tyrion Lannister.”
“The Imp?” Robert asked in surprise.
“Yes. He has contacts in Essos. He helped me with an endeavor involving glass. He’s incredibly well read and clever.”
He let out a heavy breath. “You were the one who wished the role created. I had thought that perhaps you were looking to take up that position.”
I blinked. Oh. No, that would never do.
“Your Grace, you honor me too much. I’m still just a child. I spend time with Tommen, Myrcella, Margaery, and Arya. I’m working on my book of your war against the Mad King. And, well, I’m still a child. The small council is an esteemed group of advisors. It heartens me to know that you find my insights occasionally useful, but I truly do not wish a seat there.”
The king grumbled a bit, but I was adamant I simply did not have the time and feared that I would be overwhelmed with the responsibility.
“I will certainly help Lord Tyrion if he asks for my insights based on my experience wearing the bracelet, but if my father does say yes, it also would not be good for the future of the realm to have me so connected to something like sorcery. I don’t follow the Seven, after all, and rumors would spread that I have bewitched you somehow. How else could a girl my age find herself on the small council without the aid of sorcery?”
“Oh, very well, you’ve made your point.” Robert gave a chuckle. “Gods, Tommen is never going to win an argument with you, is he?”
Ugh, don’t remind me.
“Given his youth, it is hard for any to imagine him sounding wise, but it will come in time. Would you like me to discuss the position with Lord Tyrion, or would you prefer to consider the matter further? I ask because the guards have brought in Thoros of Myr. By all accounts I doubt he had anything to do with this, but he will be a valuable source of information as to what the Red Temple can do and their limitations.”
He waved aside the concern. “Go tell him. It’s my small council; they’ll add a chair at my whim. Tell the Imp it will be on a trial basis, if he doesn’t prove useful, I’ll find someone else.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.”
***
“You want me to do what?” Tyrion asked in disbelief.
“Join the small council as the master of mysteries. A new role designed to help protect the royal family from threat of the unnatural,” Sansa replied.
Tyrion, of course, had already heard about the claim that the red priestess had somehow cursed artifacts given to his niece and Sansa, but he had his doubts. The world was too gray and cruel for the likes of magic to exist.
Only… one of the cleverest minds I’ve ever encountered is swearing that she knows it was sorcery.
“Sansa, is it not possible that the bracelets you were given had some sort of powder or residue on them that caused some delirium? Some poisons can be transmitted through skin, though it is not as swift as the ones ingested. Combined with Lady Melisandre adding something to her fires, it is quite possible you both could have been affected, but that it was not magic.”
Sansa gave him a nod. “Well reasoned, but wrong. I know what I felt and how specific it was.” She shifted her weight in her seat. “But the way you just approached that is useful. I imagine by far that most tales of magic are either false or greatly exaggerated. Sorcery does exist and it will take someone like you to separate the wheat and the chaff.”
I have other duties. I’m doing my uncle’s work as master of coin and in less than a year I plan to be off.
Sansa’s hopeful expression gave him pause. He had loved working with her on the spectacle project. It was going to bear fruit and change the circumstances for those who liked to sharpen their wits with books into their dotage. Working with such a brilliant woman whose mind could keep pace with his own was a rare pleasure. The way her sapphire eyes brightened whenever she followed his reasoning on a particularly clever point was extremely gratifying.
He picked up his cup and twirled the wine a bit. It would likely not be meaningful work, but it was a chance for scholarship and he would enjoy tweaking his family’s nose by being part of the small council after he had been unceremoniously replaced.
I intend to do far more than that to my sweet family before all is said and done.
“What will this entail, other than appearing in small council meetings?”
“You will be advising the king on all things magical in nature. What is a genuine threat and what can safely be ignored. The top priority will be the faith of R’hllor and the sorceries that hail from Asshai, but I believe it will be best for us to be thorough. We will cast a wide net and discover what is true and what is legend. You will then advise the king on what steps can be taken to avoid dangers. This may involve working with Ser Barristan to coordinate the protection of the royal family, but all that depends on what we uncover.”
I have no information about Tysha. Uncle Kevan is working on my behalf already, and I could always resign if he succeeds in finding her.
He looked at Sansa and then lifted his cup toward her. “Well then, Lady Sansa, it seems we will be working together on another project. Where shall we start?”
Sansa took out several slips of paper. She had come prepared with a list of items. A rather lengthy list. Not only that, she had even included a list of resources she thought he should request from the king.
Gods, I really need to get my family to lend the crown more money if this keeps up. Perhaps I can convince my father that I had a hand in sending Stannis to the Wall. That might loosen his purse strings.