Chapter 113: The End of the Kingmaker
"Mother, do you intend to abandon your people?" Joffrey shouted at Rhaenyra from the balcony outside his chamber. "Baela and I are your children, but Mother, you are the Queen now. The people of King's Landing are your children as well!"
Baela, hearing the commotion, stepped out from her own chamber. "Mother, if you abandon the people of King's Landing for our sake, then how are you any different from the Usurper?" she asked.
"What do the two of you know?" Rhaenyra snapped irritably. "It's the Shivers. My aunt died of the Shivers. I have already lost one son. I will not lose another son or daughter!"
"Your Grace, there is also dragonpox," Maester Gerardys said gravely. "Dragonpox progresses even faster and is far more contagious. It spreads through contact with the afflicted, or even through those not yet showing symptoms. There is no known cure for either illness. However, there are no records of Valyrians ever contracting dragonpox."
"This…" Though still irritated moments before, reason quickly returned to Rhaenyra. She realized what her children were truly saying. If she fled King's Landing because of the plague, then she truly would be no different from Aegon the Elder. Combined with the crushing taxes already burdening the city, such an act could completely turn the people against her.
"No, we cannot leave King's Landing." Rhaenyra steadied herself. "Joffrey, have Tyraxes and Moondancer guard the Red Keep. Dragons do not fear disease. Maester Gerardys, what measures can be taken to prevent infection within the Red Keep?"
"The Citadel believes the Shivers may be linked to rats. Both the Shivers and dragonpox are highly virulent diseases that can initially be contained through isolation. Your Grace, I advise strict control over entry and exit from the Red Keep, and immediate quarantine for anyone displaying symptoms." Gerardys paused thoughtfully. Medicine had been among his strongest studies, and he had researched the Shivers extensively.
"Understood. Mysaria, arrange for ratcatchers to search out every rat in the Red Keep, and secure the castle according to Maester Gerardys's instructions. As for the city…" Rhaenyra gritted her teeth. "Beginning tomorrow, Lord Bartimos Celtigar's tax policies will be temporarily suspended, and funds will be withdrawn from the treasury—"
Only then did Rhaenyra remember how little remained in the treasury. Nearly all the coin extorted through harsh taxation had already been spent maintaining royal grandeur, paying officials, restoring order in King's Landing, and reopening trade routes.
"Regardless, in my name, beginning tomorrow, free bread shall be distributed to the people of King's Landing. Open the upper levels of the Dragonpit as well. The sick may be treated there."
"Praise your mercy, Your Grace," the White Worm said sincerely. "Your Grace, you must also take caution. Recently, many dangerous voices have risen in King's Landing. Certain fanatics claiming to be chosen by the Seven accuse your family of demonic incest and your dragons of being demons from hell. They have gained considerable influence among the common folk. Especially since the plague began spreading two weeks ago, public sentiment toward you has become increasingly volatile."
Rhaenyra frowned immediately. "I understand. Thank you for the warning. Tomorrow I shall order Ser Lorent and my Kingsguard to root out these pests within the Realm."
Watching Rhaenyra issue command after command, Joffrey breathed a sigh of relief. Yet as he gazed through the window at the darkening sky, a strange sense of foreboding gripped him.
The following day.
King's Landing, Flea Bottom.
A man dressed in rags slipped quietly into a crumbling hovel where foul water dripped steadily from the roof. The Shepherd knelt beside a corpse whose lips had already turned blue, praying softly.
"Master, may the Seven bless your devotion." The man revealed the seven-pointed star sewn beneath his tunic. "The demon queen issued orders this morning. The Sea Snake's taxes have been suspended, black bread is being distributed in the markets, and the upper levels of the Dragonpit have been opened for treatment of the sick."
"She deceives the lambs of the Seven!" the Shepherd shouted, rising to his feet. "She wishes the faithful to deliver themselves into the jaws of her demon dragons! Why else would she open the Dragonpit instead of the holy septs blessed by the light of the Seven? No—I must reveal her wickedness to the people!"
"Master." The man grabbed the Shepherd's single arm. "The demon queen has already sent her agents to persecute the faithful. You cannot walk alone beneath their swords."
"Alec, you truly are the son of a Warrior!" The Shepherd looked at him approvingly. "Fear not. The servants of demons cannot harm those protected by the true gods. I shall reveal the demon queen's true face to the lambs."
"Master!" Alec restrained him once more. "My brothers are prepared. Tonight, people will gather in the square of the stinking whore to discuss sending the sick to the Dragonpit. Then you may reveal the demon queen's tyranny to them without danger."
"Truly?"
"By the Seven above, with the Father as witness." Alec traced a seven-pointed star across his chest.
Satisfied, the Shepherd nodded and resumed praying beside the corpse.
While Draezell divided the spoils in the Reach, and Rhaenyra struggled against plague in King's Landing—
In the Riverlands, Benjicot Blackwood and Lord Roddy the Ruin discovered a valuable prize. Near Harroway's Town, they found Tyland Lannister, the Master of Coin who had secretly provided intelligence to the Blacks after Aegon abandoned King's Landing. He had taken Criston Cole by surprise, shattered the remnants of his forces, and narrowly escaped pursuit.
"Criston is nearby," Tyland said as he guided Benjicot and Roddy Dustin's cavalry toward Criston's encampment. The so-called Kingmaker, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, now had barely twenty men remaining beside him.
The moment Criston Cole saw the cavalry of the Riverlands and the North appear upon the horizon, he knew his end had arrived.
"Tyland. So it was you, traitor." Criston's first glance fell upon Tyland, whose armor was battered and torn. "My only regret is that I did not kill you and Lord Lyman back then."
"Forgive me, Cole," Tyland said, lowering his head. "But there is something you should know. I was not the only traitor. Before me, Larys Strong supplied Prince Draezell with much information as well. What I do not understand is why he still remained loyal to Aegon in the end."
"Hmph." The Lord Commander drew his longsword. "If any of you possess courage, face me in honorable combat." He pointed his blade toward the Black commanders, but when he clearly saw Benjicot's youthful face, he froze.
This was only a child.
"Sorry, Criston." Benjicot shrugged casually. "I don't believe you're a true knight. So… Uncle Robb."
Red Robb drew his bow without hesitation and loosed an arrow directly into Criston's chest. The shaft pierced the aged white breastplate and drove deep into his body.
"You—"
Then Alysanne Blackwood's arrow struck through his gorget, and the Blackwood archers unleashed a storm of arrows, turning Criston and his remaining soldiers into pincushions.
"What 'you'?" Roddy Dustin nudged his shaggy horse forward, approached Criston's arrow-riddled corpse, and hacked off his head with an axe.
"This old man is no knight," Roddy declared, "but I know the rules of you southern knights, and the honor of the white cloak. Boy, you disgraced your cloak long ago."
Thus spoke the commander of the Winter Wolves.
And so ended the life of the Kingmaker—in utter humiliation.
While plague spread through King's Landing—
Outside Summerhall.
Adams the Lawkeeper, black-haired and golden-eyed brother of Hofa the Lawkeeper, a man who loved books, laughter, and company, stood anxiously outside a stone cottage.
"Amos, come out quickly! If my brother loses patience, neither of us will escape this!"
Inside the cottage, Amos Fezerell sat quietly before the fire, staring into the flames. Blisters slowly spread across his body. The moment air touched them, they swelled and burst, spraying blood and yellow pus across the stone floor and into the fire itself.
The young man endured unbearable agony and suffocating pain. Yet he found comfort in one thing.
That half-rotted corpse had touched no one but him.
"Adams, go back and tell your iron-headed brother," Amos shouted through the pain. Adams immediately heard the strain in his voice.
"Amos, what's wrong? Don't frighten me!" Adams reached for the door, only for Amos to shout again.
"Don't come near this house! Go tell the Lady to inspect every incoming cargo shipment. Tell the Revered One—no, His Highness—that I cannot repay him. Steelflame… I placed it on my weapon rack. Return it to His Highness…"
Amos felt his thoughts beginning to blur. The pain slowly faded, replaced by a terrible numbness.
Staggering to his feet, he tore open the fireplace grate and scattered the burning logs across himself.
Flames instantly engulfed his body.
The firelight illuminated Adams's horrified face.
Dragonstone City.
Diana Tarly sat upon Draezell's crystal dragon throne, frowning as she listened to Maester Viserys and Zesar Weaver. Ray had not yet returned from dragon patrol, leaving only Diana and Leira in command of the city.
The previous day, Amos Fezerell—Draezell's sworn brother and bearer of the Valyrian steel sword Steelflame—had failed to return to the Dragon Crystal Tower. Instead, he secluded himself inside a stone cottage outside the city. Soon after, the cottage burst into flames, and Amos perished within them.
"My Lady, it was the Shivers," Zesar said coldly. "Fortunately, inspections at the harbor were strict, and the infected corpse never reached shore. My apprentices and I dealt with that vessel in time. Unfortunately, the body of a dragonpox victim drifted into the docks. We must thank Lord Amos. He discovered it quickly—but in doing so, he contracted dragonpox himself."
"Is there no cure?"
Maester Viserys shook his head. "Dragonpox carries nearly a one hundred percent mortality rate. That is why, though contagious, it rarely causes widespread outbreaks. Lord Amos isolated himself immediately upon realizing he was ill."
Diana understood at once what Amos Fezerell had done.
The young man had realized the disease could not be allowed to spread within the city. He chose to burn himself alive, leaving behind a final will returning Steelflame to House Varezes.
"Amos was my husband's sworn brother," Diana said softly. "He died a true warrior."
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