Chapter 175: The Gathering Storm
Eddard Stark lifted his weary head from the desk.
He was exhausted and in dire need of sleep, but the Seven Kingdoms needed governing even more. The King, who should have been seated upon the Iron Throne, was currently lying sickly—no, sprawled face-down—in bed tending to his wounds, having dumped the entire mess of his own making onto his Hand. Then again, even if Robert were hale and hearty, Ned did not expect him to shoulder a single ounce of the burden.
Accompanying his fatigue was a stomach full of anger.
What should have been a flawless plan had been shredded by the King's reckless interference. Not only had their original objectives crumbled at the finish line, but the Lord of the Seven Kingdoms himself had nearly lost his life in the process. Ned truly wanted to unpin the Hand's badge and hurl it into Robert's face, letting the man manage the realm his own way.
After mentally picturing the scene of plucking the silver needle from his breast and throwing it at Robert, Ned felt his weariness fade slightly. He leaned back into his chair and looked at the two high officials who had come to visit. "Speak then. What news now?"
Varys glanced at Pycelle, gesturing for him to speak first.
With no other choice, the Grand Maester began tremulously: "Lord Eddard, ravens have arrived from the lords of the Reach and the Riverlands along the Goldroad. Three days ago, Western forces totaling over a thousand men, split into several companies, intruded into their lands to drive off and intimidate the search parties sent out on your orders... They moved east along the Goldroad, only to retreat back into the West the day before yesterday. We have reason to suspect that the Queen and Ser Jaime are now under the protection of their father's army... and have returned to Casterly Rock."
"There was no battle?" Ned asked displeasedly. "The lords along the Riverlands and the Reach simply watched Tywin's army rampage through their territories and snatch away a Queen and her brother—guilty of adultery and attacking the King—right from under their noses?!"
"Calm yourself, Lord Stark." Varys glanced at Pycelle, his voice soft and smelling of lavender. "The echoes of 'The Rains of Castamere' still linger in the ears of the realm's nobility. Before the Iron Throne formally declares war on Lord Tywin, few would dare openly oppose the Lion. However, I feel... rather than blaming the lords of the Riverlands and the Reach for not engaging Lord Tywin's forces, we should perhaps ask—how did Casterly Rock act so swiftly to move troops to intercept the fleeing Queen Cersei and Ser Jaime?"
"Someone surely sent word, Lord Eddard..." Pycelle said with certainty. "The distance from King's Landing to Casterly Rock is hundreds of miles. Calculating by the timeline, Lord Tywin must have received word and dispatched his escort troops the very day after the chaos in the Red Keep. Such speed of information can only be achieved by birds. It must be one of the lords in the Riverlands or the Reach who, upon receiving the Hand's order to intercept, immediately passed the word to Casterly Rock... Alas, we sent out dozens of identical commands; it is fated we shall never know which one it was."
"Grand Maester Pycelle's analysis is logical," Varys said, clasping his hands over his knees with a smile. "But there is another possibility left unsaid—could it be that the informant didn't receive the order from Lord Eddard first, but was someone right here in King's Landing?"
"Impossible! The keys to the King's Landing rookery are held by me alone. The ravens were released by my own hand, and the letters were written by the Hand's squires and myself. They can all testify to it!"
"The letters sent might be fine, but that doesn't mean the place they were sent from is the only source."
"Are you suggesting I sent word to the Lannisters?" Pycelle's beard quivered with rage. "Varys, you are slandering a high official of the court! As Grand Maester, I would never commit such treason! You may check the rookery! Not a single bird is missing!"
"Lord Pycelle, please. I believe not a single raven is missing from the rookery. While I said a message was sent from King's Landing, I never said it was sent from the Red Keep." Varys maintained his smile, continuing in his cloying tone. "Perhaps some common folk keep private birds, and they were the ones to alert Lord Tywin, yes?"
"Perhaps." Pycelle stared at Varys for a moment, unable to discern if the eunuch actually knew anything. Regardless, he knew Varys could never produce evidence—ravens are trained to fly to fixed locations; unless one is released and reaches its destination, an outsider cannot tell which bird flies to Stoney Sept and which to Casterly Rock. "Then who would it be? Keeping private ravens without the approval of the Citadel and the Iron Throne is a felony!"
"Lord Pycelle, you jest. Would someone daring enough to tip off the Lannisters care about a felony?"
"Enough." Ned looked coldly at the two officials before him, their words laced with hidden meanings and petty snipes. He gave a sharp snort, cutting them off. He had no evidence that Varys or Pycelle were Lannister creatures, but both were veterans who had served two dynasties; who could say for sure where their loyalties truly lay? "I was already braced for Pycelle's bad news. Now, Lord Varys, what do you have to report?"
"The purge of Lannister influence within the city and the investigation into former Commander Janos Slynt have concluded. The results are in this file... Additionally, I wish to remind your lordship: if the Queen's adultery with her brother is established as fact, then the future of the Prince and Princess—whose paternity is now a mystery—must be carefully considered. Your lordship is of a merciful heart and surely will not accept bloodshed... but if these three children surnamed Baratheon fall into the wrong hands, they will bring endless storms of blood upon the Seven Kingdoms."
Ned had already considered the question Varys posed. Jaime and Cersei had not taken their three children when they fled. Did they assume he would not harm them? He couldn't tell, but he couldn't help wondering if he was truly that easy to read.
Bloodshed was indeed unacceptable, but if he kept them, how would Stannis Baratheon—now the first in line for the throne—view these three threats?
After much thought, the only remaining option was to take the three children to the North and keep them under his own control—ensuring their safety while preventing them from being used by others. The only flaw in this plan was that three wards who were almost certainly the products of incest would likely be seen by the Northmen as a stain on his honor.
A stain on honor? Ned thought of his 'bastard' Jon Snow and smiled disdainfully. If a man lives with integrity, what stain is there to fear!
"I have my own plans for the three children; you need not concern yourselves." Ned's mind was made up, and he didn't wish to discuss it further. "Maester Pycelle, send word to Lord Tywin. Command him to immediately send Jaime and Cersei to King's Landing for trial and punishment, and to come personally to answer for his children's crimes. If they do not arrive within ten days, it shall be taken as a confession of treason, and the Iron Throne shall move against him with the full might of the realm."
Pycelle opened his mouth, but the words he intended to say died in his throat. "Yes... my lord."
"Out of my way!" A girl's sharp cry came from outside. A guard attempted to stop Arya from barging into the office, but he clearly failed. She pushed the door open and rushed in, ignoring the two other high officials present, shouting urgently, "Father, when are you going to let my teacher out! I've told you a hundred times, Tyrion isn't a bad man, and my teacher definitely didn't help the Lannisters rebel!"
Ned ignored his daughter. "Lord Varys, is there anything else to report?"
Varys smiled at the furious Arya and shook his head. "There is much to report, but most of it is messages entrusted to me by Lord Renly. You need only read the documents I've submitted to understand everything. I shall not disturb your lordship and Lady Arya further. I take my leave."
Varys was the first to rise and exit. Pycelle hurriedly confirmed the specific wording of the ultimatum with Ned before also scurrying away. Soon, only Ned and his daughter remained in the room.
"It's fine, close the door," Ned said to the guard who had failed to stop Arya. He pulled his daughter into the crook of his arm, patting her shoulder. "I told you to visit His Grace once a day. Did you go today?"
"Margaery is taking care of the King, why should I go?" Arya squirmed. "Is she going to be the Queen soon?"
"Perhaps. That depends on what King Robert thinks." Those were his words, but in his heart, Ned knew that with Cersei and Jaime having fled and the Iron Throne likely facing a war against the wealthiest family in Westeros while drowning in debt, the support of the Reach was indispensable... Now, it seemed nothing could stop Margaery Tyrell from becoming Queen.
That Tyrell girl should have departed for Highgarden days ago, but after the news of Cersei's flight broke, she had decisively canceled her travel plans. Now, she spent every day by Robert's bedside, directing servants, cleaning Robert's wounds, and tending to his food and water... she was practically acting as the mistress of Maegor's Holdfast already.
"You're changing the subject again! You adults always do that!" Arya suddenly remembered why she had come, dragging the conversation back forcefully. "When are you going to release my teacher!"
"Haven't I told you? He is suspected of tipping off Tyrion Lannister. He is a prisoner now; how can I release him without a trial?"
"He must have been framed!" Arya stomped her foot.
"Sansa also says her Prince Joffrey must be King Robert's child and the rightful heir to the Seven Kingdoms," Ned said, shaking his head. "In these matters, your words do not count."
"Then trial him first!" Arya didn't care. "Otherwise, I'll come bother you every day, and I'll bring Sansa with me."
"Child, have you no sense at all!" Ned frowned at his daughter for a moment. Seeing her determination and calculating the days, he realized he had indeed kept the Night's Watchman locked up long enough. At a time when the Others had reappeared beyond the Wall and the Night's Watch needed significant support, it wouldn't do to truly mistreat their Chief Logistics Officer. "Fine. As you wish, he shall be tried first. Harwin! Take my signet to the dungeons and bring the Night's Watchman here."
"Yes, my lord."
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