"Is there a poison that makes one feel like they have an intestinal illness?" Ser Vardis asked.
"I think there is. Ordinary intestinal illness is not so rapid, but I didn't have much say in Lord Arryn's treatment. The tears of lys, a very rare and expensive poison. It tastes sweet like water, can be dissolved in wine or water, and cannot be smelled or tasted. It disrupts the intestines, causing death like an intestinal illness, leaving no trace," Maester Colemon whispered.
"So that means if someone close to him intended it, Lord Hand would drink the wine," Ser Lyn said.
"Exactly. If the poisoner was someone close, there would naturally be many opportunities. Moreover, Lord Jon never allowed anyone to taste his food first before he ate it. The Lord always valued his honor," Maester Colemon said.
"Had Littlefinger visited before the incident?"
"Lord Littlefinger occasionally visited the Tower of the Hand. Everyone knew he was an important minister. Moreover, Lord Jon and Lady Lysa were his benefactors. He was obsequious before the Lord Hand and Lady Lysa, making everyone laugh. The day before the Lord fell ill, Littlefinger also visited to entertain the bored Lady Lysa. The Lord was always busy and didn't pay much attention, and they were only chatting, as old acquaintances. As for that large book, only Lady Lysa and Old Maester Pycelle and I knew about it."
"Watch her." Ser Vardis had already seen Lysa crying and struggling, still wanting to jump off the balcony.
Given the current situation, Lysa's treason was almost a certainty.
The couple had conflicts, had motives, and furthermore, she had fabricated a false letter after the incident. Since it was treason, the general evidence had already struck down Lysa and Littlefinger like thunder.
The blue robes tore some cloth and stuffed it into Lysa's mouth. The fat woman still wanted to struggle but couldn't move. Two blue robes soldiers directly dragged her into the garden, with cloth stuffed in her mouth.
Lysa still wanted to roar, but the blue robes fiercely struck her with sword hilts, again and again.
"And Young Lord Robin, Young Lord Robin's illness." Gendry told the Maester to continue.
"My Lords, please forgive me." Maester Colemon immediately knelt. "All my treatments were at Lady Lysa's request. I bled Young Lord Robin to the maximum extent allowed, gave him sleeping wine and poppy milk to help him sleep, but very rarely. Because whenever Young Lord Robin was restless, Lady Lysa would feed him milk. Doctor Ambrose said that a mother's milk has peculiar effects."
"Besides maternal love? Was there such a drug?" Ser Vardis trembled. Everyone knew that Robert Arryn was not only small and frail but also inseparable from his mother.
This was not just idle speculation; someone skilled in using the tears of lys would also know about sweetsleep.
"And, and sweetsleep. Oh, Gods, I never used that on the Child." Maester Colemon's Adam's apple bobbed rapidly. Sweetsleep was a poison that could cause a painless death. In small amounts, it could calm nerves and suppress seizures. However, poison is still poison.
"Traitor!"
"Coward!"
"Ungrateful beast!" The Lords of the Vale were all furious. Lysa not only harmed her husband but also her own infant Child, not to mention Littlefinger. The toxins of sweetsleep would gradually accumulate, meaning that small intakes over time could also lead to dangerous consequences.
"Search Lysa's room," Gendry ordered.
"Yes, Your Highness." Captain Vardis waved his hand, and Colemon also followed. The blue robes Knights quickly reached the room. The key was the "medicine."
"Bring up the Singer Marillion."
The drunken Singer Marillion was also brought down. Marillion was good-looking: young and slender, with smooth skin, sandy hair, and a charming smile.
But the Singer's attire made everyone even more furious: sky-blue precious clothes, golden armbands, and a belt that once belonged to Lord Arryn. The Singer had also harassed many maids and slept with others.
"Who can make this good Singer sober up?" Gendry looked at Marillion.
Anguy mischievously brought a cup of fine wine and splashed it on Marillion's face.
Marillion immediately sobered up, too scared to speak. Lady Lysa, who was being controlled, and the fierce warriors—now The Eyrie was also a kingdom of blood.
"Tell us what you know, good Singer," Baron Nestor shouted, and then the spearmen poked Marillion.
"Oh, I loved Lady Lysa so deeply, I couldn't bear to see her in another man's arms, couldn't bear to see her sharing a bed with another man. But I swear to the heavens, Lady Lysa was cold... She said she had been pregnant with Lord Petyr's Child, and there would be a new one soon. This was her love, she only loved him, and she said she had sacrificed too much for love. I was so jealous."
"Please let me keep my harp and my tongue, Lady Lysa likes to hear me sing."
"This waste, I'll pull out his tongue," Nestor yelled.
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