Chapter 20
STEFFON BARATHEON
Finding Bron had been quite a surprise. He had not expected to find the sell sword here in Kingslanding, but he was thankful for it nonetheless. Him and Tyrion had scoured over fifty men, and had found but a handful of them capable and trustworthy enough to handle the task at hand.
Bron was the best of them. He had not only understood their need without them even uttering a single word, but had also acted to prove his own loyalty. Steffon had tracked down the names of those men himself and had planned on dealing with them soon to send a message, and Bronn had done just that.
It was a rare moment of joy for them in weeks, as they dealt with the consequences of his brother's actions and Baelish's treason. The King was set to return soon, and with that a sense of normalcy would come to the Seven Kingdoms as well.
So, with their positions stabilised and the revenge obtained, Tyrion convinced him to spend the night at his establishment once more. With Bronn and his men guarding their establishments, he was not exactly averse to the idea, and so he found himself in the place once more as Tyrion enjoyed himself in the arms of his lover.
Steffon himself had a good enough night, as he prepared himself for the cutthroat plots and politics that were set to begin with the arrival of their new Hand. Still, he had always been a light sleeper, and so when the wooden floors creaked, his eyes began to flutter as the sound grew louder and louder.
He peeked at the window, and saw that the Sun had long set, the moon was up in the sky, and the city had long gone to sleep. He felt the voices grow louder as he felt someone stopping right outside his door, and his heart began to hammer away in his chest.
Slowly, he pulled out his arm from underneath the naked girl lying beside him, as he pushed her to the side slightly, while he slowly reached for the dagger on the table, as he felt the door get pushed open, and with that, the two men rushed inside as his fears came true.
"ATTACK!" he shouted, startling them, as the girl beside him sprang up to her feet while he quickly jumped off the bed and grabbed his blade.
"What the hell? He was supposed to be asleep! Get him!" the two men grunted out as they came after him, and Steffon picked up the wine beside him and threw it at the man's face.
"AGHHH!" The spicy Dornish Red burned his eyes as the man screamed in agony while he parried the strike from the second man.
"Go, and get the guards," he screamed at the girl, who ran out of the room naked as he quickly reached for the lamp and threw it towards the man drenched in wine.
"AHGHHHH!" the man screamed up, as the wine and the lamp oil lit his entire body, and his screams woke the entire brothel, as he slowly led the other attacker towards the door.
Their blades met a dozen times, as Steffon jumped back as he tried to avoid a cut to his neck. The blade cut his bare chest, and he grit his teeth as he winced in pain, as they came out of the room, while the burning assassin jumped out the window.
"Who sent you?" Steffon questioned.
"Do you even know who I am?" he asked, enraged as the man smirked.
"I know exactly who you are, my Prince," and so he was the target of the attack.
"I will double whatever they are paying you?" and the man smirked.
"No Prince can match a King's word," and with those words, he rushed forward, as Steffon bit his lip, and threw the dagger forward, startling the man, before he quickly cut his arm with a simple swing of his blade.
"AGHHH!" the mans creamed, in agony as his blade fell to the floor, before Steffon kicked him to the ground, and pushed his blade into the bastard's shoulder.
"King! The King sent you," and he could not imagine Robert ever doing such a thing unless... unless he had somehow learned about the true nature of their birth.
"Fuck you! You won't survive the night! He will have your head! The King will have your head!" and the man continued to scream in agony before he heard screams from the other side of the building, and slit the bastard's neck as he ran towards the source of the scream, noticing how it had come from where Tyrion had his room.
He noticed the blood coming out of the room at first, and before he could step inside, the door opened as he found a blade aimed at his neck.
"Stop!" Tyrion's voice came, and the person holding the hilt pulled back the blade, as Steffon peeked into the room and saw it covered with blood, as Tyrion lay on the ground while holding the lifeless body of Shae.
"Sorry for that, my Prince," Bronn uttered as Steffon stepped into the room, and saw Tyrion weeping as he led Shae's lifeless body in his arms, and she had been cut from one shoulder to the hip, and the bodies of the two perpetrators lay beside her, while a dagger lay just beside Tyrion.
"She protected me," Tyrion uttered, and he did not know what to say as Tyrion looked up at him with a pained expression.
"She shielded me with her own body," and Steffon could only apologise for this.
"I am sorry," he said, but that was not enough. Tyrion turned towards Bronn with his rage-filled eyes.
"Who was it? Who orchestrated this?" and Bronn lowered his head.
"Can't say yet, my lord. Didn't have the time to question them," and with that, he turned towards him, as Steffon thought about the words the man had uttered.
"He said that they were sent by the King," and the room grew silent at those words, as Tyrion blinked owlishly.
"Are you certain about this?" Tyrion asked as he gently lowered Shae's dead body and stood up.
"But isn't the King your father? Why would he want to kill you?" and there was one reason he could think of, but he did not wish to repeat it infront of Bronn.
"No," Tyrion cut in coldly.
"Robert is not the kind of person to rely on assassins. He would much rather kill his enemies himself," Tyrion added, as their eyes met and the realization dawned on him.
"No," Steffon gasped as his heart sank at those words.
"It cannot be," Steffon continued, as he leaned against the wall for support.
"What the hell are you two talking about?" and with that, the bells rang, and Bronn finally realised their dilemma.
TANG. TANG. TANG.
"Oh," he gulped down, as he looked at the two dead men in the room.
"King Robert Baratheon is dead," Tyrion uttered, and he was too late. They were too late. Bronn had been in their employment for a week, and they had nowhere near enough support or the numbers to dethrone his brother.
"Joffrey is King now," Steffon uttered in defeat.
"And he has made his intentions very clear," and he knew that this was not just his brother's work. Joffrey was not smart enough to coordinate such an attack. This was most definitely the Spider's work, and that bald bastard wished to pit them against one another.
"What do we do now?" Tyrion questioned, and Steffon could not have imagined a worse position for himself than he was in currently.
He could ride to the castle and rely on his mother's protection, but how long would that last? One way or another, Joffrey would have his head, and after this, he would rather die than bow his head to that monster.
He had always known that Joffrey was a right bastard, but to think that he would come for his own head. It was a sickening thought, but what else should he have expected out of him?
"We cannot stay in the Capital," that much was obvious to Steffon. Now the biggest question for them was where they should go?
"Get us horses and cloaks, and gather all of the men loyal to us," Tyrion ordered Bronn, who rushed out of the room, as they plotted their next move.
"We could go to Casterly Rock," Tyrion suggested, and it was a sound enough suggestion.
"Father would protect us," and he would, but he would also force him to bow his head to Joffrey, and Steffon was not in the mood for that.
"I would much rather avoid that. Going to the West would be admitting defeat," Steffon countered.
"But we have lost Steffon," Tyrion countered, and that they had.
"Maybe, but that does not mean I will bow my head to Joffrey. Not after this," and he was being stubborn. Maybe he was making a mistake, but he did not care.
"Then what do you suggest?" and the only other option in his mind was going South, to Storm's End, but the lords of the Stormlands were stubborn and archaic. They were sworn to Renly, and he doubted his uncle had much love for him.
He could ally with the Tyrells, but once more, he would lose control over his own fate.
He was trapped. Completely and absolutely trapped. He had been defeated, and he wondered if this was by destiny or design. He still did not know how his father had died? Who or what had killed him?
But those questions would be answered later, for he had to act now lest he lose his life.
"Steffon, you need to..."
"Braavos," and the answer slipped out of his mouth on instinct.
"What?" Tyrion was taken aback by his answer, and so was he, but it seemed the most logical choice.
"I am going to Braavos," Steffon countered, and Tyrion was definitely not expecting this.
"The representative from the Iron Bank. He was set to leave today. His ship will still be in Blackwater Bay. If I can get on that ship, I will be able to get to Braavos safely," and Tyrion shook his head.
"You want to run away?" and Steffon shrugged.
"What other choice do I have?" and every option was worse than the next one.
"Stay and fight," and maybe.
"It is impossible. We have no allies as we speak. Sansa Stark is betrothed to my brother, giving him the North, the Riverlands, and parts of the Vale as allies. Grandfather will never raise an army against his own blood, and the Tyrells are as shrewd. They will never support a lost cause," and that was what he was.
A lost cause.
And Tyrion had no counter to him, as Bronn returned.
"The horses and the men are ready, but whatever you decide, we need to move fast. Your brother's men are out there hunting for you as we speak," and Tyrion's fists balled up.
"Go then," Tyrion added, and in the end, it was his decision to make.
"You should go to Casterly Rock," Steffon suggested, as he grabbed a cloak from Bronn.
"What? Why?" Tyrion questioned.
"With Joffrey on the throne, you are not safe either. Go to grandfather and tell him exactly what happened here, and tell him to prepare for war," and Tyrion frowned.
"War with whom?" he questioned.
"Everyone," for with Robert dead, their enemies would begin making their moves, and he did not wait for Tyrion's reply as he rushed out of the building, with his face and hair all covered up.
Bronn led him out of the back door, and there, a few men and horses were already waiting for him.
"Where to?" he asked.
"To the docks," Steffon answered, and if he was surprised, he did not show it as they began to traverse the streets of the city. Kingslanding had come alive once, and the bells signalling the death of the King rang still, as Gold Cloaks scoured the streets while screams and wails of women filled the Street of Silk.
They avoided the gold cloaks, and one group that came in their path was cut down by Bronn and his men as they came to the docks and found the ship headed for Braavos.
Bronn brought him the captain, who seemed perturbed at being woken up at such an ungodly hour.
"We need to leave the city at once," Steffon ordered, and the man frowned.
"And who am I talking to?" and Steffon raised his face and let the man have a look.
"My Prince," and he bowed at once, as Steffon untied the pouch and threw it towards the man.
"We leave now. I will take one of the cabins," and the man nodded, and with that, he turned towards Bronn.
"I will be fine on my own. You should go and help my uncle now," and Bronn nodded.
"Well, we didn't really have a lot of time together, but you are a good man, my lord. Better than any of the Princes I have ever met," and they shook hands as Steffon smiled at the compliment.
"Your words warm my heart," Steffon said, as he gave the sell sword a nod.
"And know this, Bronn. One day I will return to these lands," and those brown eyes narrowed as Steffon gazed at the rising towers of the Red Keep.
"I shall remember today until that day..." and with that, the captain led him to his galley, as Steffon found his dream of leaving these wretched lands fulfilled, but not in the way he had hoped.
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