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"It's her!"
"She killed Renly!"
"Seize the traitor! Avenge Renly!"
The shout was a spark dropped into oil. Every guard in the tent ignited at once.
"Kill her!"
"Avenge Renly!"
"How dare she — the traitor!"
Dozens of golden-armored guards surged forward, longswords raised, eyes burning red as they closed in on Brienne step by step. The killing intent rolling off them was thick enough to shake the tent walls.
Brienne didn't move.
She stood exactly where she had been, her plain face slack with shock, her eyes unfocused. After a moment she looked down at the sword in her hand.
Renly Baratheon's blood was still on the blade.
His blood. Splashed there when she'd rushed forward to protect him, just minutes ago.
And now that blood was all the proof anyone needed.
She had killed Renly?
How? How could she have?
He was the man she had sworn her life to. The man she would have died for without a second thought.
"No." The word came out barely audible. "It wasn't me."
She wanted to explain. She opened her mouth and nothing came , not a full sentence, not even the beginning of one. All she could see was the look in Renly's eyes as he fell. Disbelief. Pure, terrible disbelief.
Something in her chest had been scooped hollow.
It hurt.
It hurt so much she could barely breathe.
"Still denying it!"
The guard captain was the first to break into a run. His longsword sang through the air in a vicious downward arc aimed straight at her head , full strength, no hesitation. He meant to put her down where she stood.
CLANG!
Steel rang against steel.
Another blade appeared from nowhere and caught the blow dead.
Loras.
His face, always so handsome, always carrying that faint edge of aristocratic pride, was soaked with tears. One arm cradled Renly's body against his chest. The other hand held his sword in a white-knuckled grip.
"Stop." The word tore out of him. "All of you — stop!"
He stared at the mob of guards, his voice cracking. "It wasn't her! The murderer is not her!"
The guard captain's arm was still ringing from the impact. He looked at Loras , at the wildness in his eyes, the tears on his cheeks , and his expression shifted into something close to pity.
"Lord Loras." His voice was careful. "You've suffered a terrible loss. We understand. But, "
"What shadow? What monster?"
He pointed at the blade in Brienne's hand.
"We only know what we can see. Her sword is covered in his blood. She was the only one standing beside him when he died. That's all the evidence we need. She is the murderer."
"You pack of fools!" The words burst out of Loras before he could stop them.
He wanted to explain. He needed to explain. But how , how did you make men who only trusted their own eyes believe in a shadow that had worn a dead man's face? How did you describe the black dagger, the shape sliding out of darkness, the impossible?
They would only think he had lost his mind.
"I order you — as captain of the Rainbow Guard — drop your weapons. All of you."
He threw every scrap of authority he had into the command.
It didn't matter.
Renly was dead. And with him went every ounce of weight that title carried. These guards didn't want a captain anymore. They wanted blood.
"Lord Loras." The guard captain's tone had gone flat and hard. "Please step aside."
"This traitor dies today. We avenge Lord Renly."
"Yes! Execute her!"
"Avenge him!"
The crowd surged again, louder now, feeding on itself. Loras looked at the sea of furious faces and understood. Nothing he said would reach them. They needed someone to blame. They needed somewhere to put all this grief and rage.
Brienne was perfect for it.
If he kept standing between them and her, they would cut him down too.
His heart sank, slow and heavy, like a stone dropping through cold water.
He looked at Renly's face , still, and pale, and no longer breathing. Then he looked at Brienne, standing alone in the middle of all that fury. An island. Completely surrounded.
He made his decision.
"Fine."
Loras rose to his feet. His gaze moved across every face in the tent, slow and deliberate.
"Since you are all so certain she is the murderer."
"Then take her."
"Throw her in the dungeons."
"I will interrogate her myself , and find out whether she was working alone, or whether someone put her up to this."
The tent went quiet.
The guard captain frowned. "Lord Loras, why bother with an interrogation? A traitor like her should simply be, "
"Shut your mouth."
The command hit like a physical blow. Something shifted in the air around Loras , the full weight of a knight who had trained since boyhood, who had never lost a tourney, who had bled in real battles. The guard captain took an involuntary step back.
"I said I will interrogate her personally." The light in Loras's eyes was not entirely sane. "What if she was ordered to do this? What if Stannis is standing behind her right now? Would you rather kill one meaningless pawn and let the man who actually murdered your lord walk free?"
Stannis.
The name landed like a cold hand on every neck in the room.
They looked at each other. Renly had been planning their move against Stannis , they'd spent the whole evening on it. And now Renly was dead. If anyone believed that was coincidence, they were an idiot.
The guard captain straightened up.
"You're right," he said. "Interrogation first." He turned and lifted his hand. "Take her! Dungeons. Now."
Two guards grabbed Brienne's arms, one on each side, rough enough to bruise.
She didn't resist.
She let them take her.
Loras fell in behind, Renly's body still in his arms. His footsteps were very slow.
---
The dungeon was dark and cold and smelled of standing water and old stone. They put Brienne in the deepest cell.
She sat with her back against the wall, knees pulled to her chest, eyes fixed on the floor.
She didn't know how long she stayed like that.
Then footsteps , quiet, careful ones , echoed down the corridor.
Loras appeared in the doorway.
He had changed out of his blood-soaked armor and put on plain dark clothes. The tears were gone from his face. What remained was something worse than grief: a perfect, empty stillness.
He unlocked the cell and walked in.
"Come."
One word.
Brienne raised her head slowly.
"Come with me." He was already reaching for her arm, impatient, pulling her to her feet before she could answer.
He didn't take her back through the main dungeon entrance. He led her through a narrow passage she would never have found on her own , she doubted anyone but him even knew it existed , and out into the camp's stables. The night air hit her face, cold and clean.
"That one." Loras pointed to a black horse standing saddled and ready. "Get on."
Brienne stared at him. "Lord Loras, what are you, "
"I'm telling you to go."
He turned on her. Both hands seized her shoulders, gripping hard.
"Do you understand what's happening? They won't believe a word I say. They believe what they saw, and what they saw was your sword covered in his blood." His voice was shaking. "If you stay here, you die. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe the day after. But you die. And I cannot, " His voice broke. "You were trying to protect him. I watched you. I can't let them kill you for that. I can't."
He couldn't finish the sentence. He let go.
For a moment he just stood, head down, jaw working. Then he reached inside his jacket and pressed a coin purse into her hand.
"Take it. It's enough to get you somewhere safe." He looked away. "Leave. Go as far as you can. Don't come back."
Brienne looked at him.
This man who moved through the world like he owned it , all ease and beauty and the comfortable arrogance of someone who had never been overlooked in his life. He looked nothing like that now. He looked like a child who had lost the only thing that mattered to him.
She shook her head.
"No."
"I'm not leaving. I'm innocent. I should stay and fight to, "
"Fight?" Loras laughed. It was not a kind sound. "With what? Your sword, against fifty of them? Brienne. They will burn you alive. Within two days. That is what waits for you if you stay."
He stepped closer and looked at her directly , really looked at her, the way she had rarely been looked at.
"Leaving isn't running. You swore an oath to him. You remember that? You swore to protect him." He paused. "You can't protect him now. But you can find the thing that killed him. You can hunt it down. And you can cut its head off with your own hands." A breath. "That is the only thing left that you can still do for him."
The words went through her like a blade.
She understood.
He wasn't sending her away. He was giving her something to carry instead of the grief , a direction, a purpose, a reason to keep moving.
An oath to fulfill.
Her eyes burned.
She looked at Loras , this man who had loved Renly completely, in his own way, just as she had loved him in hers , and she nodded. Once. Hard.
"I understand."
She said nothing else. She put her foot in the stirrup and swung up into the saddle.
"Remember the name."
Loras's voice followed her. Low and steady, drained of everything except hate.
"Stannis Baratheon."
Brienne didn't look back.
She drove her heels into the horse's flanks and the black stallion lunged forward, swallowing the darkness in great strides until the camp was gone and there was nothing around her but the night.
Stannis.
She had only seen him once. One glance had been enough to make her skin crawl.
And it was he who had killed Renly. Her Renly.
She raised her eyes to the sky. The moon hung above her, cold and white and indifferent.
In the silence of her own chest, she made her vow.
I, Brienne of Tarth, do swear.
I will find you, Stannis Baratheon.
And I will make you answer for what you have done.
➤ Next: First Encounter with Melisandre
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