Chapter 14 2 страница

" His Apprentice is Lord Stark's bastard son, Jon Snow, " Gerion answered, drawing another bark of laughter from Robert. " From what I understand of his terminology, an Apprentice would be akin to a Squire training to become a full-fledged knight of the Realm. Though, from what I've seen of the boy, he's already above and beyond almost any knight in the Realm. "

" Hmph, a likely tale, " his queen snorted, shaking her head. " The man must have no standards to raise a mere bastard to such an honorable position. "

Growling, he fixed his wife with a look promising retribution. " Have a care how you speak, woman. That bastard is the son of the most honorable man in the Seven Kingdoms. And he'd already proven himself a man well before Nox raised him up to be his Apprentice. "

Cersei's eyes hardened as she glared pure hatred at him, but he honestly didn't care by this point. He'd seen that look from her often enough now to simply ignore it.

" Believe me, your grace, " the returned Lannister interjected softly. " Nox did not lower his standards at all when he appointed the bastard as his Apprentice. While I didn't see the act for myself, I verified the story with the daughter of Lady Mormont, the son and heir of Lord Jon Umber, the son of Lord Rodrik Karstark, and Prince Oberyn Martell that the boy killed a dragon easily the size of Balerion the Black Dread. On foot. If that isn't a deed worthy of an uplifting of station, then I'm afraid, dear niece, that you have impossible standards. "

Whatever response his wife had was lost as the wine that Robert had been drinking flew from his mouth and covered her. " What the fuck? " he cursed, wiping at his mouth even as the Kingslayer started trying to dry his sister off. " What the fuck did you just say? "

" The boy killed a dragon, " Gerion repeated, his face and tone completely serious. " On foot. "

" I-I-Impossible! " Pycelle stuttered, rising from his seat partially before collapsing and coughing. " Such – ack – Such an act is impossible! Even if there were dragons still around! Which there are not! The Citadel confirmed that all the dragons died out decades ago an-"

" And the Citadel is the end-all be-all of truth in the Realm and the greater world, correct? " Gerion scoffed. " Pycelle, just like everyone in this room, save for good old Davos here, I've been educated by the Maesters since I was but a boy. I even spent a few months in the Citadel studying in preparation for my voyage to Valyria. But do you know what my time in Valyria and with Nox has taught me, Pycelle? It's that you Maesters are either holding back on us, or you lot truly don't know your ass from a hole in the ground. "

Pycelle's face turned an impressive shade of red, but any argument was cut off as Varys spoke up for the first time. " You said that you have the word of several heirs and a second son as well as the word of the Prince of Dorne, did you not? I must ask, how is it that Prince Oberyn came to be part of a Northern expedition to a long-lost land? The last song my little birds sung to me of the wayward Prince was that he was making his way through the Free Cities with his paramour and eldest bastard daughter. "

As much as it stung to admit, the Spider had a point. What was even more galling was that Robert had completely overlooked the fact that Prince-fucking-Oberyn-fucking-Martell was with the Sorcerer. Sure, relations between the North and Dorne had improved to the point where the two kingdoms were cordial with one another. But, surely, they had not progressed to the point where they could so easily gain the services of the Red Viper.

" Not much to tell, honestly, " Gerion shrugged. " Apparently, Prince Oberyn was in Volantis at the same time as the Sorcerer and was asking questions about him, trying to figure out his past if I had to guess. Nox found out and confronted the man. And the next day the Red Viper, his paramour, and his daughter were all officially welcomed into the expedition. And by the time they were left in Dorne, I would dare say that the Sorcerer and Prince Oberyn had become friends with one another. "

Frowning, Robert scratched at his beard. In hindsight, he could agree that the killing of Elia was a mistake. Not the dragonspawn, though. Those bastards deserved to die just for having dragon's blood in their veins. But Elia…? Had the battle lust and elation of revenge not been coursing through him and clouding his mind, he might have acted differently. Hell, the punch from Ned had almost knocked a lick of sense back into him. But what sense the blow brought him was quickly destroyed when Ned turned his back on him and walked away. That was perhaps the best and worst day of his life. The only day that was even worse was when Ned returned with his bastard boy and his dead sister. And while he trusted Ned to keep an eye on the sorcerer, the fact that he was getting friendly with perhaps the most outspoken of those who still refused to acknowledge his right as King was slightly troubling.

" And just how deep is their friendship, Lord Lannister? " Jon Arryn asked, giving Robert a pointed look, which said that he knew exactly where Robert's mind currently was. After all, the fate of Elia Martel was a frequent point of contention between the two of them. " The tastes of the Prince of Dorne, as well as his frequent traveling partner, Lady Ellaria Sand, are well known. Do you believe they might have been successful in swaying him? "

Gerion didn't even hesitate. " Not even in the slightest. Though, not for a lack of trying. We did stay a few days in Sunspear while the Sea Wolf was being repaired after encountering a large group of pirates along the Stepstones. And I know that the Sorcerer and the Northerners were invited to a feast hosted by the Martells. But, given our recent history, I decided that I would not tempt fate and decided to stay on board during our stay. I didn't feel like testing the patience of the Martells by expecting them to accept a Lannister in their midst and not do something about it. "

Robert could accept the logic, but just as he was about to comment further, his mind caught up with the more interesting aspect of what the Lannister had just said. " Pirates? How many? "

" Two galleons and four longboats, " the lost Lannister replied. " Their plan was a decent one, but between the sheer power of the Sea Wolf, and the combined might of the Sorcerer, his Apprentice, and the Lady Asha Greyjoy, they didn't stand a chance. Hell, those three took out the two galleons on their own with only a slight bit of help from a few archers on the Sea Wolf. "

Now he had Robert's full attention. " Sit the fuck down, Lannister, and tell me everything. "

Taking one of the empty seats, the lost Lannister proceeded to tell Robert and the rest of the Small Council everything he'd seen during the brief skirmish against the pirates. Hearing about how the sorcerer had picked up a galleon and flipped it over had unsettled him more than he cared to admit. Sure, he saw the sorcerer breach the walls of the Pyke with relative ease. But still, it seemed like every time he heard about the man, he had to keep adjusting just how powerful he thought he was. Then there were the actions of Ned's bastard boy and the Greyjoy lass. Hearing that the two had pretty much handled an entire galleon on their own seemed a bit of a stretch and he could tell that Gerion was leaving something out, but for the life of him he couldn't figure out just what it might be. Then there were the actions taken by Nox with the prisoners.

" Wait, " Robert called out, raising his hand to stop the man's tale. " You mean to tell me that the sorcerer beheaded nearly fifty men with a single swipe of his sword? And not only that, but he managed to complete such a feat before the first man could even hit the fucking deck? "

Scratching the back of his neck, the lost Lannister visibly grimaced at seeming to recall what had happened. " Well, to be fair, he did throw his weapon, but yes. And then he had all the heads loaded up onto one of the surviving longboats and tasked the five pirates he'd pulled out from those to be executed to deliver the heads to wherever their hideaway was located. "

Slapping his hand down on the table, Robert threw his head back and laughed. " Haha! The more I hear of this sorcerer, the more and more I start to like him despite his unfortunate look! "

Those around the table each wore different expressions, but the one that caught his eye the most was the almost calculating look in his queen's eyes. A look that he'd come to realize meant that she was trying to plot something idiotic. " And what of the plunder of Valyria, Uncle? " his queen asked. " What will be done with it? Surely, it will not all be heading to the North without appropriate tribute being given to the crown? "

A distinctive snort came from the edge of the room, drawing everyone's attention to the man it came from. " Pardon, yer grace, " Davos murmured, his eyes low. " But I believe the sorcerer has more than paid his tribute with the healin of the young Lady Shireen from her fight against greyscale. "

Robert focused in on his brother's righthand man. His brother had returned to Dragonstone some time ago to deal with some dispute or other, but his return had been delayed once his daughter had contracted greyscale. Robert had figured the girl was done for. But if anyone could cure an incurable disease, it would be him. " The sorcerer…cured her greyscale? "

" Aye, yer grace, " Davos nodded. " He and a foreign woman, name of Lady Talisa Maegyr, they came up with a way to heal greyscale during the voyage. Lady Shireen is the, I believe fifth, person they've cured so far. And all five were fully cured within a moon's turn. "

Chuckling, Robert turned his attention towards Pycelle, who was starting to turn a most interesting shade of red. As was usual, whenever they got word that the sorcerer had unveiled some sort of new 'invention' of his, or whatever the hell he called it. " So, Pycelle. In the decade that the sorcerer has been in service to Ned, he has managed to do the following; develop a type of glass to rival Myrish glass, create a larger more efficient bloomery, establish new trade routes throughout the North and into Essos, led an expedition into Valyria discovering gods only knows how much lost knowledge, and now he's gone and created a cure for a disease you Maesters have deemed 'incurable'. Tell me, what have you Maesters done in the past decade? And then tell me why the fuck the crown should continue providing coin to the fucking Citadel and not the Winterfell College? " Not bothering to give the old man a chance to stammer out a response, Robert turned back to Davos. " If Shireen is cured, then where the fuck is my brother? He should be back here. Not still on Dragonstone. "

Davos shifted in place as he reached into his nearly worn out doublet and pulled out a small scroll. " Forgive me, yer grace, but Lord Stannis wished to remain with his daughter until she made a full recovery as suggested by the sorcerer. But he gave me this note to give to you, yer grace. "

Motioning for Jon to take the scroll, his Hand unrolled the missive from this brother and read it over. " It is as Ser Davos says, " Jon nodded, rolling up the scroll. " Despite there being no outward appearance of her previous affliction, the young Lady Shireen is still on medicine and bed rest under isolation until she has shown no return symptoms for a set period of time. And Stannis wishes to remain with her until that time has come to pass. And until then…he has appointed Ser Davos to act as Master of Ships in his stead until he returns. "

Baelish's quill skittered across his parchment and his beloved queen looked like she'd just eaten a whole bushel of lemons. But the best look was the one on Davos who suddenly looked like he wanted to flee as fast as he could. " Haha! My brother didn't tell you that part, did he, Davos? Didn't think the cold bastard had it in him to play such a joke on anyone! Ha! " Robert laughed as he slapped his thigh. If all Small Council meetings were as interesting as this one was shaping up to be, then perhaps he would have to start attending them more often in the future. This was by far the most fun he'd had since the Greyjoy Rebellion. " Sit your ass down, Davos. If I must be here, then so do you. "

" Aye, yer grace, " Davos muttered, awkwardly taking his seat and looking thoroughly out of place.

With Davos seated, conversation returned with Baelish returning them to where they had been. " While a cure for greyscale is indeed a great boon, it is not coin. And if they were as successful as Lord Lannister says-"

" They were. And more. "

" —then perhaps I will have to alter the expected Northern kingdom's tax contributions for this year to account for their unexpected increase in wealth. "

Most of his good mood leaving him, Robert leaned forward and fixed the little weasel with a look that could melt stone. " Careful with your words, Baelish. Ned and the North have always paid their due. "

" But the sorcerer is not of the North. At least not originally. " Cersei cut in, making Robert wonder just why he hadn't kicked the woman out of the council chambers yet. " How can we know that he won't keep the gold for himself and try to fool Lord Stark? "

" Because he's not that type of man. At least from what I've seen. Hells, he's already planned out appropriate compensation and tribute, your grace. " Gerion Lannister spoke up once more. " The highborn Lords and Ladies that dared to venture into Valyria with him were all given their pick from Valyrian Steel they took. And the smallfolk were all paid accordingly with gold or jewels. "

" And what were you given, Uncle? " Cersei all but demanded, making Robert groan.

" Given the fact that he saved my life and I was unable to offer anything to the expedition, nothing, " Gerion answered, before quickly following it up. " However, he did let me keep that which I had already found. "

Standing, Gerion made a move towards the sword on his hip. A move which of course prompted the Kingsguard in the room to reach for their own hilts before Robert waved them off. Pulling the sword from its sheath, Robert could see the distinctive Valyrian steel markings on the blade in Gerion's hand. But it wasn't just the blade that had his attention but rather the pummel. Which was shaped into a golden lion's head.

" By the Seven, " the Kingslayer gasped, his eyes wide like a coming of age boy seeing his first set of tits. " Is that…?! "

" Brightroar? Yes, it is, nephew. " Gerion nodded, putting the sword away. " I managed to find King Tommen's lost ship. Unfortunately, there was nothing to recover save for this sword. And it's recovery almost makes the hell I went through worth it. "

Robert might despise just about everything there is or ever was about the dragon lords, but even he would readily admit that the sister-fucking-cunts knew how to make good weapons. 'And perhaps getting the Lannister Ancestral Sword back will get Tywin off my fucking back for a few moons at least. '

" I trust that you will be leaving the sword here with Jamie, will you not, Uncle? " Cersei asked, her eyes staring at the now sheathed sword with undisguised longing. " And, in time perhaps, my son the Crowned Prince will be able to wie—"

" I will not, " Gerion replied with no small amount of heat as he took his seat once more. " Jamie is no longer a Lannister. He gave that up when he joined the Kingsguard. And as for your son, he is a Baratheon, not a Lannister dear niece. He has no right to House Lannister's ancestral sword. I will be taking the blade back with me to Casterly Rock and presenting it to my brother, your father. It will be for him to determine the succession of the sword and the head of House Lannister. And besides, Jamie doesn't need this sword. Because, despite what some here may think, the sorcerer is very aware of politics and proper etiquette. And while he has continued North after healing Lady Baratheon, he has tasked me with the delivery of his tribute to the royal family. With your leave, your grace? "

Grinning behind his heavy beard, Robert motioned for Gerion to do whatever the hell he wanted, to which the Lost Lannister got up from his seat and left the Small Council chambers, only to return a moment later leading in two men in Baratheon colors who were carrying a long narrow box as long as a man. Getting up from his seat, Robert was almost giddy with excitement as he watched the two men set the long box down on the table and pry open the top.

Peering into the box, Robert felt his grin widen even further as he reached inside and pulled out a claymore that had black gemstones placed across the crossguard. It wasn't the first time he'd held a Valyrian steel sword. Hells, Ned had even let him handle Ice on more than one occasion. But even knowing the unique properties of Valyrian steel, he was still caught slightly off guard by the relative lack of weight to the blade. And while he was certainly more at home caving in men's chests with a war hammer, he wasn't above wielding a sword. Especially a Valyrian steel sword.

" The sorcerer felt that delivering a weapon worthy of a King would be a sufficient tribute, " the Lannister went on as Robert drew the claymore out of the sheath to reveal the distinctive Valyrian steel patterns upon the naked steel. " But he also wanted to leave no doubt as to whether such a tribute was enough. So, he has also sent seven other longswords that are to be wielded by the Kingsguard and passed down from one member to the next. After all, the King of Westeros deserves only the best for his protection. "

" His tribute is noted, and no further questions or demands will be made of him regarding his loot from Valyria, " Robert declared, better to make things official and all that horse shit. " Well, Lannister, name it. "

" Your grace? "

Putting the sword away, he motioned for the two Baratheon men to take the box away while he retook his seat, his new sword held firmly in his grasp. " You went and fucked the Valyrians in the ass and lived to tell about it, found your families ancestral sword, and now you've gone and delivered the sorcerer's tribute for him. Name your boon and I'll grant it. "

" Your grace, I…Well, there is only one thing that I would ask you for. While I was in that hell, I…I made a promise to myself and to the gods. A promise that I want to fulfill but fear I will only be able to do so with your blessing, your grace. "

" Oh, for fuck's sake, " Robert growled. " Stop kissing my ass like a two-copper whore and get on with it already! "

" Very well, " Gerion sighed before straightening and looking Robert directly in the eye. " I wish for my daughter, Joy, to be legitimized in the eyes of the realm and the gods. "

Of all the things Robert thought the man would ask for, this was perhaps the last. Hells, he wasn't even aware that the Lannister had a daughter, let a bastard child. " Done, " Robert nodded, rising to his feet. The request was simple enough, even if some members on the Council were dead set against him legitimizing bastards. Plus, it had the added benefit of throwing a thorn into Tywin's side, something of which Robert took great delight in as he rarely got the occasion to do so. " Jon, write it up with all the titles and shit, and give it to me to sign. Let's go, Kingslayer, I want to test out this new sword…Dragonsbane. Yes, that's its name. Too bad I didn't have it to cleave that silver-haired fucker's head from his shoulders after I caved in his chest. "

Sitting at the high table within the Merman's Court of New Castle, Ned Stark broke his fast with his family and Lord Manderly's family as they waited for news of the impending return of Nox and all those who went with him to Valyria. The only members of both family that were absent from the meal were his Lady Wife and Rickon, both of whom were still in Winterfell, and Wyman's second son Wendel, who had accompanied Nox on the voyage as the Captain of the Sea Wolf. Picking at the food on his plate, Ned took a single bite before setting his utensils aside. Honestly, the food in White Harbor was by far some of the best he'd ever had. But it was far too rich and often heavily soaked in butter or salt for his tastes. A sentiment that seemed to be shared by his children as four of them only lightly picked at their fast. The only one who didn't seem to mind was Theon, who had already cleaned a single plate completely and was working on putting more on.

In truth, while Wyman and his family were wonderful hosts for both himself and his family, Ned was starting to grow restless. The time that'd passed from Nox's raven while he was in Dorne till now had been both the fastest and slowest passage of time Ned could remember since the beginning of Robert's Rebellion. And with each passing day, his impatience for their return grew, especially with the news from the Wall that awaited them upon arriving at White Harbor several days ago. Lord Commander Mormont had informed them years ago that a former Black Brother by the name of Mance Rayder had turned his cloak and joined the Wildlings, but Ned had thought that that would be the end of any word of him. But that had not been the case. Mance had thrived beyond the Wall, and not in a way that was good news for the North.

It'd taken him years, but the former Brother of the Night's Watch had managed to unite almost all of the Wildlings north of the Wall under his banner, making him a 'King-Beyond-The-Wall'. Not a pleasant notion as memories of the last King-Beyond-The-Wall, Raymun Redbeard, still lingered in the minds of the people of the North. Especially in the minds of the Starks as, while the King-Beyond-The-Wall and his host were eventually killed nearly to the man at Long Lake, he did manage to behead William Stark, Ned's own great-grandfather, before he died. But despite their eventual defeat, the Wildings had managed to inflict a lot of death and pain upon the people of the North. And the fact that less than a century had passed before a new King-Beyond-The-Wall had risen was not a pleasant thought.

'Will my life forever be cursed to fight one battle after another? ' Ned thought, his mind trailing back to the two wars that'd taken him from his home for years and cost him almost his entire family.

And while the news of the King-Beyond-The-Wall was indeed troubling, the second piece of news that came from the Night's Watch was equally as troubling. Apparently, nearly two dozen Black Brothers from the Shadow Tower, all men who chose the Black to escape the King's justice, had followed Mance's example and defected. Had they merely gone north of the Wall, that would've been one thing. But, no, they had taken it a step further and apparently helped to secret an entire warband of Wildlings across the Gorge using the Bridge of Skulls and into the North. And since they'd crossed weeks ago, there'd been no word of them by either the Mormonts or the Umbers. The only sign that they were still in the North was the fact that Commander of the Shadow Tower, Ser Denys Mallister, had reported that they had not tried to cross back to the Far North. It was unusual behavior to say the least. Usually whenever the Wildlings raided south, they would go for a settlement or two, and then retreat. But not this warband. No, this group crossed into the North without issue and then seemingly disappeared without a sign.

Word had been sent to the Dreadfort and Karhold, but neither Roose nor Rickard had sent back word yet as to whether or not the Wildings had attempted to raid their lands. Not even the newly formed Rangers could seem to find them. 'If no word is sent by the time we reach Winterfell, I fear I will have to ask Nox to accompany myself and my men out into the North to hunt them down in person. I don't want to take Nox away again, especially given he will have just returned and will have ample reason to stay behind. But, as much as I hate to admit it, finding and eliminating this warband will be far easier with him at my side rather than at Winterfell. '

Pushing thoughts of Wildings and war to the back of his mind, Ned picked up his fork and knife and began to carefully pick at the heavy food laid out before him. Hearing a slight giggling coming from his right, Ned cast a sidelong glance towards his eldest daughter. Sansa was currently sitting with her friend and companion Jayne Poole and the eldest granddaughter of Wyman, a beautiful young girl by the name of Wynafryd. The young woman was of the same age as his sons, Robb and Jon. And judging by the lighthearted looks on the girls faces and the quick glances Wynafryd was sending towards Robb, it wasn't difficult to guess what their current topic of conversation involved.

It wasn't a bad match. White Harbor was the largest city in the North and House Manderly had proven themselves to be a steadfast ally of House Stark for years. The girl was indeed pretty and would no doubt bloom into an even more beautiful woman in the next few years. But despite the logical part of his mind that said that such a match would without a doubt be the most beneficial, he could not force himself to make it official. The betrothal of his sister to Robert against her wishes was no doubt the primary reason why what happened had happened during the Tourney of Harrenhal. And as for him, while he had come to love Cat, it had not started out that way as duty had forced him to take the hand of his brother's intended. In so doing robbed him of the chance of being with the woman he loved. While he had indeed come to love Cat, she would still be second as shameful as it was to admit. And he knew that his marriage was not the norm. Not by far. As strong as he knew his children to be, he did not want them to suffer through the same pain as he and his sister due to being forced to be with someone against their will.

Without realizing his actions, Ned's hand shot out and grabbed a piece of food that had been sailing through the air towards its target. Feeling the wet porridge seeping through his fingers, he let out a tired sigh as he turned his sights towards his youngest daughter Arya, who was sitting with the younger granddaughter of Wyman, Wylla. The culprit wasn't hard to guess as, while both girls were staring at him with wide eyes, Arya was the one who was holding her spoon like a catapult that'd just thrown its load. Though once she saw her father's eyes on her, she quickly tried to pull the spoon down below the edge of the table.

" Arya! " Sansa gasped, figuring out that she had been the intended target while quickly looking over herself to see if any of the porridge had managed to get past Ned and hit her.

" What? " Arya asked, trying to seem innocent. Though the act failed quickly. " You're being silly and making funny faces. And it'd be rude to throw something at our hosts. "

" Glad to see you at least remember some of your manners, Arya, " he said quickly before Sansa could say anything. " But it is still rude to try and embarrass your sister in front of our hosts. Now, apologize. "

Looking like she'd just eaten a whole bushel of lemons, Arya turned first to her sister and then to Wyman. " Sorry, Sansa. Apologies, Lord Manderly. "

" No worries, my dear, " Wyman laughed, his chins swaying as he did. " I find it quite refreshing to have so many youngsters at my table once more! Why, when I was young, it was not uncommon for myself and my siblings to play jokes on each other at every possible opportunity! Though, if I may say so, young Lady, it'd be best for yourself to do so out of the eyes of others. Far less of a chance of being caught that way. "

Groaning, Ned finished wiping off his hand while his youngest daughter beamed and his eldest pouted. " Please don't give my daughter any more ideas, Wyman. Trust me, she needs no encouragement in that particular area. "

" Apologies, Lord Stark, " Wyman apologized, though judging by the tone he didn't really mean it. " And may I say, Lord Stark, that that was an impressive display. Did you by chance see what your daughter was about to do? Or is it perhaps true that this 'Force' that the sorcerer talks about is not limited to only your children? "

Setting his napkin down on the table, Ned frowned while trying to think of the best way to answer. In truth, there was very little he could purposefully do with the power of the Force, despite Nox's many lessons. Jon and Arya were, to use Nox's own words, prodigies and could use the Force in multiple ways without hardly any strain on themselves. And while Robb was not quite at the same level as those two, he was still no slouch and wasn't afraid to use his gifts in the open to help the denizens of Winterfell. Usually by helping to pick up objects that would take several grown men to carry.

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