c14: Wrath
Viserys, kneeling before the statues of the Seven Gods, finally succumbed.
The silver-haired boy's body temperature was alarmingly high; his pale Valyrian skin was flushed deep red, as if a furnace were burning inside him.
His mother, Queen Rhaella, finally noticed her son's condition.
"Viserys!"
"What's wrong?"
But the world spun around him, his mind went blank, and all he could see was his mother's crouching figure and anxious face beneath her silver-gold hair.
Then his body suddenly went limp, and he fainted, his burning cheeks pressing against the cold stone floor of the sept.
"Maester!"
The newly crowned king had fainted, and chaos erupted within the sept of Dragonstone.
Maester Daniel hurried forward, while Sir William and the other retainers of House Targaryen rushed to surround the boy. Queen Rhaella knelt beside her son, her face filled with panic as the attendants carefully lifted the unconscious Viserys from the ground beneath the statues of the Faith of the Seven.
...
Compared to this small disturbance among the last remnants of House Targaryen on Dragonstone, far away in King's Landing another matter was unfolding one far more terrifying.
The powerful Lord of Casterly Rock, Tywin Lannister, was furious.
This was the real storm.
No one present could remember ever seeing the cold and calculating Tywin lose control of his temper like this.
With a loud clatter
several Lannister knights immediately dropped to one knee, lowering their heads and begging their lord to restrain his anger.
None of them had forgotten the terrible song known throughout the realm as The Rains of Castamere.
They remembered the destruction of Castamere and the smoking ruins of Tarbeck Hall, where the rebellious houses of Reyne and Tarbeck had been wiped out entirely men, women, and children slaughtered until their lands were soaked red with blood.
The surviving Lannister soldiers who had returned from the failed mission were now tied to wooden stakes in the courtyard, awaiting whatever punishment their enraged lord decided upon.
The reason for Tywin Lannister's rage was simple.
The secret force he had dispatched to hunt down Queen Rhaella and her son Viserys Targaryen had been nearly annihilated.
Only a handful of men had managed to return alive.
Because of delays in communication following the chaos of Robert's Rebellion, this devastating news reached King's Landing much later than expected.
Even worse
the body of Tywin's younger brother and most trusted commander, Kevan Lannister, was discovered several days later and transported back to King's Landing.
Kevan Lannister's corpse was in a horrifying state.
Most people present could barely glance at the body before turning away in disgust. The court ladies who had gathered in the hall were completely unaccustomed to such brutality; several of them fled to a corner and began vomiting violently.
Kevan's fatal wound was in his chest.
He had been stabbed directly through the back, the blade piercing completely through his chest.
Afterward, the killer had seemingly attempted to cut off his head perhaps to claim proof of the kill but for some unknown reason, perhaps exhaustion or interruption, the sword had become lodged halfway through the neck.
As a result, Kevan's body had been transported back by carriage with his head hanging grotesquely to one side, creating an appalling sight.
By the time the corpse reached King's Landing, the body had already begun to rot. Maggots crawled within the wounds, and a terrible stench filled the chamber.
Even the septons who attempted to prepare the body for burial could only barely stitch the torn flesh of his neck together, and they were completely unable to hide the smell of decay.
At that moment,
the tall and imposing Lord of Casterly Rock stood silently in the hall.
Tywin Lannister's pale green eyes were bloodshot, and his thick golden beard trembled slightly with barely restrained fury.
He could hardly believe that his own brother had died during what was supposed to be the final stage of victory.
The death of Kevan Lannister cast a dark shadow over what should have been a triumphant feast celebrating the fall of House Targaryen.
Even worse
a faint sense of unease began creeping into Tywin's heart.
This war had been meant to end with the complete destruction of the Targaryens.
After the fall of Aerys II Targaryen and the sack of King's Landing, the realm was supposed to celebrate the victory of Robert Baratheon and his allies.
Everyone understood a simple truth.
If even a single Targaryen survived, they would remain a dangerous threat to the new order.
Those who carried the blood of dragons would one day return seeking vengeance.
Everything had gone perfectly until Kevan's sudden death, just when the fruits of victory were about to be harvested.
And now, the shadow of that mistake hung heavily over Tywin Lannister.
His old friend Aerys II Targaryen's body had once lain before the towering blades of the Iron Throne.
The carnage of King's Landing, the Lannister army's wanton burning, killing, and looting carried out with his tacit approval, had all been done in the name of the 'new king'.
Elia Martell, the wife of Rhaegar Targaryen, along with the bodies of her young children Prince Aegon Targaryen and Princess Rhaenys Targaryen had been wrapped in crimson-and-gold Lannister cloaks and presented before Robert Baratheon as proof of loyalty after the sack of the city.
Scenes soaked in blood flashed repeatedly through his mind.
Blood for blood.
Karma.
Yet Tywin Lannister's back remained straight, his cold and ruthless face still clouded with a faint trace of unease.
He would not allow the anxiety in his heart to affect those beneath him.
He was still the Lord of Casterly Rock, the head of House Lannister, the man whose will ruled the rich lands of the Westerlands.
Then
THUMP
The middle-aged man in a crimson robe embroidered with a roaring golden lion finally seemed to lose control of his emotions.
Without warning, he kicked over the heavy oak table before him, sending goblets, scrolls, and maps scattering across the stone floor.
"Targaryens!"
His voice roared through the chamber.
He drew his longsword in a flash and began striking wildly at the furniture in the room, splintering wood and scattering fragments everywhere.
If the death of his beloved wife, Joanna Lannister, years ago had taken away the last warmth in Tywin's heart, then the death of his younger brother, Kevan Lannister, had finally stripped away his restraint.
The enraged Lord Tywin now appeared utterly terrifying.
He had always harbored deep resentment toward the Targaryen dynasty. Otherwise, he would never have acted so mercilessly during the fall of King's Landing, nearly exterminating every last remnant of the dragonlords.
Years ago, during the grand tourney held for his marriage to Joanna Lannister, the drunken behavior of Aerys II Targaryen toward his wife had left a permanent scar on Tywin's pride.
Not long afterward, Tywin had quietly sent Joanna back to Casterly Rock for her safety.
From that moment onward, the friendship between Tywin and Aerys two former companions who had fought together during the War of the Ninepenny Kings was effectively destroyed.
Now, witnessing Tywin's rage, all the Lannister knights and bannermen present were terrified.
None dared to move.
Only one man stood unmoved.
Gregor Clegane the monstrous knight known across the realm as The Mountain That Rides remained standing with his massive arms crossed, his expression arrogant, seemingly unconcerned by Tywin's fury.
Yet despite the storm of rage within him, Tywin Lannister did not direct his anger toward the men around him.
Instead, he coldly ordered the execution of every soldier who had deserted or fled during the failed mission.
At the same time, he commanded that the truth surrounding Kevan Lannister's death be concealed.
The official story announced to the court and the realm would be simple
Kevan Lannister had died after suffering an unfortunate fall from his horse during a mission.
A grand funeral would be held in his honor.
Tywin even swore before his bannermen that he would avenge his brother's death and wipe out the last surviving members of House Targaryen including Rhaella Targaryen and her young son Viserys Targaryen.
However…
truth could not remain buried forever.
---
The capital, recently cleansed by blood and fire after the sack of King's Landing during Robert's Rebellion, had briefly lost its usual stench of urine and rot.
Now the air was filled instead with the heavier smell of blood and decay.
In a narrow alley barely wide enough for two people to pass each other, nearly every house had white mourning cloth hanging from its door.
The night had grown deep.
A patrol of the city watch had just passed through the street.
And then
clang!
A small silver coin struck the ground with a crisp metallic sound.
The coin bore the image of a crowned stag the royal symbol of House Baratheon.
A silver stag.
A moment later,
a small shadow slipped quietly out from the darkness.
The figure looked around carefully to make sure no one was watching.
Then the child quickly snatched up the silver coin, stuffed it deep inside its ragged robes, and disappeared once more into the shadows of the ruined city.
....