CHAPTER 29
STANNIS BARATHEON
Treachery was afoot, and Stannis should have known that such a thing would happen. The boy's words rang in his head as he read the latest missives from Westeros, where his own brother had turned a traitor.
Storm's End had declared for his own brother, who wished to sit himself on the Iron Throne using the support of the Reach, and Stannis had not expected this treachery from his own brother.
And yet in the dark confined of his mind, a voice could not help but mutter, 'is it so different than what you did?'
"So, my own brother has turned traitor," Stannis whispered to his most trusted aides, who sat with him on the painted table.
"But no matter, he will pay for this, just like all of the traitors," and he turned towards Cressen, his Maester, and the man who had come to serve him from Storm's End, and had always given him sound advice until he had need of it.
"What of the Riverlands?" and the aged man shook his head.
"The Riverlords have begun gathering a host near Riverrun, but they have not yet declared for any side, though we do know that Lady Stark rides to ancestral House as we speak," and Stannis ground his teeth, as he saw the infirmity of man, and how easy it was for them to forget their oaths.
"Dorne, the Iron Islands, and the North all have yet to declare for any side," and yet they should have.
"So, they have refused my call," Stannis thundered, as his fists balled up in rage and frustration, as he glared at the map.
"Lord Renly's armies will soon reach Bittenbridge. At this rate, he could be at Kingslanding in ten days," and with that, the war would be over, and Stannis's claim would be lost.
"We need allies," Davos insisted, and it was the Red Woman who answered.
"He needs no allies besides the Red God," she whispered, and Stannis turned towards her, and yet the seeds of doubt sown by that boy refused to die.
Where once his heart had been filled with certainty, doubt had now crept in.
"And will this God of yours send us an army? Or will he come down himself to strike down armies?" Davos countered.
"The Red God owes you no explanation, good ser. He works in mysterious ways," she answered, and Cressen's disapproval was obvious enough.
"We must burn the Demon in the gallows, and for that the Red God shall reward us with victory," and it was Cressen who answered.
"You would burn a young man at the stake to please your God," and Stannis countered.
"A bastard," he countered, but now he lacked the conviction he had once had.
He wanted to decry the boy's words as lies, but he could not. There was some sense to them, or at least there seemed to be some sense to them.
"He is a bastard," Stannis reminded Cressen.
"Indeed, yet he is also a knight," and Stannis was surprised by his answer.
"I scoured through the texts at your behest, and his words are true," and Stannis has asked Cressen to look into the histories mentioned by Steffon Waters, hoping to see the lie and flaw in his arguments.
"While there are flaws in the narration, there is some truth to his argument," Cressen answered, as Stannis ground his teeth.
"You would defy me as well, Cressen?" Stannis asked, and the aged Maester shook his head.
"Never, my lord. But I must speak the truth," he said with his head held high.
"This woman here has made you forsake your Gods already. I will not have her forsake your justice as well," and the words hit hard.
"And so you would defend a Demon born out of incest?" Melisandre's voice was filled with some frustration.
"I would defend a knight," Cressen countered.
"Is that why you went to meet the boy?" and now Stannis was frowning as his head snapped towards his Maester.
"What is this I am hearing?" and Cressen did not back away.
"Prisoner, he may be, but he is still a boy. A boy who has only ever shown kindness to you and your family," and yet he was a traitor.
"Bastard he may be, he is a knight of the realm, and by the laws of men and gods, he deserves a trial," and he had no answer for that.
"He is a traitor, and you went to meet him! Why?" Stannis raged, and his own councilors were turning on him.
"Lady Shireen was the one who asked me to see the boy. He had a deep cut on his shoulder from the time he was captured, and the wound would have festered if it had not been treated properly in time," and it was not just his councilors.
"Shireen?" he turned towards Davos.
"The Princess snuck into the gallows late into the night. The guards failed to catch her. I have changed the men already," and yet the damage had been done, and now the boy had corrupted Cressen's mind just as he had corrupted his own.
"And so, he shows his true colors. He is no boy, for how could a simple boy orchestrate all this? Do you not see it?" Melisandre asked.
"He has poisoned your mind against your own King, and now he uses those false gods and his false oaths to stir trouble," she added, as she rose from her chair.
"He will have his trial. A trial of fire," and Cressen shook his head.
"If he is innocent indeed, then the Red God shall save him from his fire. But he will not, for he is no boy, and he is no knight. He is a demon, and through his ashes the Red God shall strike down our enemies and make us victorious in the wars to come," and she came to stand behind him.
"You must act now, your grace. Burn him, and you shall have your victory," and if only it were that easy.
"Leave me," he ordered, and Melisandre seemed surprised.
"Your gra.."
"Go, all of you," and Cressen was helped to his feet by an acolyte, and he could feel those red eyes focus on him, yet in the end, Melisandre walked towards the door as well, and only when Davos was about to leave, he raised his hand.
"Ser Davos, stay," he ordered, for he was in need of some truth. The realm had turned against him, and turned their backs on their oaths and promises.
Yet it was not the real that worried him. It was his own mind. For too many nights now, the boy's words had kept him awake, as the embers of doubt burned away at the certainty offered by Melisandre.
He had not led him astray yet, but now her words clashed with the only thing he had ever believed in. Justice.
"Close the door," he ordered, and Davos closed the door, and now it was only him and his Onion Knight in the room, and Cressen had never been much fond of Melisandre and her Gods.
He believed her a heathen, one who had led him astray from the path of the Seven. It was no surprise to see them turn on each other.
"I know you let Shireen go to the cells," and he was not the kind of man to fail him, and he had ordered him to keep an eye on his daughter, and yet he had let her into the dungeons against his command.
"The Princess insisted. She wished to see her cousin, and I did not have the heart to deny her," and so he was right.
"He is no cousin of hers. He could have harmed her," and Davos lowered his head in shame.
"I was there with her. I would have protected her with my life if need be, but the young Pri...," and Davos seemed to think over his words, to not offend him.
"Call him whatever you may wish," he prompted.
"But the need never rose. They spoke for a few minutes. He called you a traitor, though he had little animosity for her," and Stannis could not help but grind his teeth, and in his frustrations, he rose from the chair and walked towards the balcony.
"The lords of the realm have forgotten their oaths. My own brother wishes to usurp me, and now my own daughter refuses to believe my word," and what a miserable condition he was in.
"I have no allies except for the men here on this island, and the God of that Red Woman," and both were not enough for him to win this war.
"How am I to win the throne with only a few thousand men and a foreign God?" he asked.
"Dare I speak my mind, your grace?" Davos asked.
"It is the only reason I asked you to stay back," he said, as the man walked forward.
"Speak your mind, Ser Davos," and the man chewed on his cheeks before he began.
"The truth is, my lord, that I have no right to stand here. I am a criminal. A smuggler, yet you raised me to my current position and made me a lord," and he had.
"You were a smuggler once, and you paid the price for it," and at that, his gaze dropped to the gloves he wore on his hand, and the empty finger joints they hid.
"Aye, and I carry the bones of my fingers in my pocket to this day," Davos added.
"You could have spared me my fingers, and maybe I could have served you better. You could have offered me nothing, and yet I serve you now not because you offered me gold or lordship but justice," and justice would not win him this war.
"Justice will not win me this war," Stannis sighed.
"Aye, but who is to say that these ships and that Red God will," and Davos's words hit hard, as Stannis felt his eyes widen.
"I know not much of war, but I know enough that nothing is certain in one. Anything can happen in a war," and he turned to look at Davos.
"I am loyal to you not because of any God, nor do I care for castles and gold. I come from nothing, yet you made me into the man I am. You offered me a castle, offered my children a future, yet I follow you for you are a just man, and I believe others will follow you as well for that reason," and so his advice was simple.
"You would have me give the boy a trial?" he asked, and Davos nodded.
"I have met him quite a few times over the years, and he has offered me nothing but kindness. If he is a bastard or a demon indeed, then I believe that your sword will strike him down clean," and Stannis ground his teeth.
"It would be easier to burn him," he countered.
"It would have been easier to spare me my fingers," Davos countered, and perhaps this was why he had sought his advice.
He could burn him. He could. But then the doubt in his heart would never go away, and even if he were to sit on the throne, he would wonder if he truly had a right to it or not.
"Make the preparations," he ordered, and Davos nodded.
"The boy shall have his trial tomorrow..."
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