Chapter 20 4 страница

The thought of his first-born son and what he'd been hiding caused no small amount of rage within Tywin. Had his idiot son opened his mouth at the end of the Rebellion, then he would've been heralded as a hero and House Lannister's name would've been elevated to heights unseen since the founding of the Seven Kingdoms. But instead, Jamie had kept his mouth shut about the Mad King's last plan. And in doing so had put the entirety of King's Landing in harm's way. Including the royal family, the very foundation upon which House Lannister would create a legacy to last a thousand years. And now his son was stuck with that ridiculous moniker that followed him like a bad rash no matter what deed he did.

" The only reason I would go to King's Landing in regard to Jamie's punishment would be to see it revisited upon him several times over. " Tywin stated coldly, eyeing Tyrion who he knew greatly looked up to his older brother. " And you will send a letter to Cersei stating exactly that. Gerion, is Joy ready to depart? "

Upon learning that the Stark bastard had a sword identical to Nox's, Tywin's intent to get one of his own under the tutelage of the sorcerer had intensified. Once Joy, or any other of the Lannister name, proved themselves worthy in the sorcerer's eyes he would no doubt grant them a blade as well. A blade that would then be promptly handed over to the Lannister main line. While Brightroar was still a tremendous find and a symbol of prestige, it was still but a child's toy when compared to these 'lightsabers' the sorcerer wielded.

" She is, " his youngest brother nodded. " And she knows what your expectations are for her as well. "

" Good, " Tywin stated with a note of finality.

He knew that his brother did not like the idea of using his young daughter as a pawn, but that mindset only proved that while his brother had grown during his failed expedition to Valyria, he was still but a child. Wants and desires of the individual did not matter. All that mattered was the family name, for that was what lived on. And through Joy, House Lannister would be able to incorporate the sorcerer's powerful magic into their family line and be next to unrivaled.

" Did the sorcerer do anything else besides dealing with the wildfire caches before he left the city? " Tywin asked, very interested in what exactly the sorcerer had been up too during his brief stay in King's Landing.

Tywin was no fool. He knew that the sorcerer was ambitious and had plans to further his standing, though to what level was still unclear. But Tywin knew that one day he would have to face off against the man. Not on the battlefield of course. From what he'd seen of him, it would take nothing short of an entire army catching the man by surprise to even have the possibility of defeating him. No. Rather, this war he would wage against the sorcerer would be one fought with words and deeds. And he needed a solid foundation underneath him for when that confrontation came. A foundation that was now weakened with the loss of Pycelle.

" Beyond dealing with a group of slavers that'd somehow managed to take root in the city, no, " Tyrion replied. " What information we have of his movements is limited at best. It is widely known however that when the Northerners left the city, they did so with the young Lady Shireen Baratheon riding along with them. Along with a handful of other smallfolk that'd once called King's Landing home. "

Stannis's daughter going with the sorcerer was expected. The man would've been mad to not take the offer presented to him. But the fact that several smallfolk left with the northerners was concerning to him. After all, while he still found Stark predictable, the sorcerer was anything but. But while he was unpredictable, Nox was much like himself in that he never did anything without reason. There had to be some benefit towards House Nox to allow those smallfolk to follow them back North. " When you are in the North you will expend every effort to discover why Stark and Nox allowed those smallfolk to travel with them back to the North. "

" Of course, " Tyrion nodded before turning pensive. " And…if it turns out that those smallfolk who caught the eyes of the wolves and the sorcerer turn out to have the same power as themselves? "

It was a possibility and one of the few reasons why he could think of that would explain Nox's interest in them. " If they have the same power, you and Gerion are to do all in your power to discover their parentage in King's Landing. "

If these individuals did indeed have the same power as Nox, which was a good possibility, there was opportunity to be gained. Not by trying to collect the individuals themselves, he had no means of training them. But rather he would go after their families. Arrange for better living conditions, positions within keeps perhaps even a marriage or two should the individual be of high enough status. He would allow Nox to train these individuals and make them strong. But in the end, he would be the one holding onto their leashes as he collected their families under his banner.

" There is much work to be done, " he said, rising from his seat. " And you all have much work to do. Tyrion, Gerion. You two will set sail at first light for Winterfell and make sure Joy finds a place either by the sorcerer's side or within the Stark Household. Kevan, continue your work renovating some of the abandoned mining houses around the Rock for when they return with the North's improvements. And Genna, inform your husband to send a letter to his family. The Starks will no doubt be heading for Riverrun so that Lord Stark may pay his respects to his late wife's family and from there they will head North to the Twins. Inform the Freys that I will be most…displeased should they do anything to anger or delay the sorcerer and the wolves. "

Olenna Tyrell had lived a long life. A very long life. One that had seen the fall of the Targaryen Dynasty and the rise of the Baratheon reign. She'd lived through the War of the Ninepenny Kings and survived escaping a betrothal to a Targaryen Prince when she was eight-and-ten. And now, she was the leader of the Reach in all but name. She had fought and clawed her way through everything the world had thrown at her and come out the other end stronger than ever. She'd negotiated trade deals. Arranged betrothals. Settled disputes both petty and significant. And she'd even arranged more than a few unsavory acts of murder and theft all in the name of keeping House Tyrell in power. And through it all she'd lived a life without regrets. Until now.

Overlooking the sprawling gardens that were scattered throughout Highgarden from the balcony connected to her private study, Olenna was overcome with the one feeling she hadn't felt in some time. Regret. But not regret that stemmed from actions that she'd taken. Quite the opposite as the regret that was currently gnawing away at her came about because of her inactions. Resisting the urge to smash her head against the stone walls of Highgarden, Olenna forced herself away from the pretty landscape below and back into her room so she could start thinking properly.

She'd blundered, though in her opinion that was far too soft of a word to describe it. She'd known about the Order of the Guiding Hand for years, ever since the Maester here in Highgarden had arranged for her late husband to have the riding accident that claimed his life, thereby setting up her oaf of a son to take over rulership of the Reach. But in her youth and arrogance instead of putting the man to death she had instead confronted him and turned him into one of her agents. It was her hope that through him she could gain control of the organization that was spread throughout Westeros and had the ear of every Lord and Lady in the land. She used the knowledge she had of the Maester's role in the death of her husband to gain control of him. His task was simple. He was simply to relay the plans the Order had regarding the other noble Houses to her so that she could take advantage of said plans. And for a time, it had worked. She'd managed to use the system the Order of the Guiding Hand had in place to help further the prosperity of the Tyrells and to ensure that their place as Wardens of the South and Lords of the Reach went unquestioned.

But now it had all come crashing down around her. Her little spy in the Order either hadn't informed her of the conspiracy against the Starks, or he hadn't known about it. Either way, he had utterly failed her and the task she had set before him. Had he informed her of the conspiracy, she could've curried much favor with not only the Starks, but the sorcerer and the entire North by revealing the plan to them and helping the wolves crush the dissenters within their ranks. But that was not what happened. Instead, the Maesters had incited an attempted coup of the North, a coup that failed epically. And then, they'd made the mistake of leaving a trail behind that the Starks followed right to their doorstep. And now the entire realm knew of the Order and the Lords and Ladies across Westeros were currently decorating their keeps with the heads of Maesters.

The exposure of the Order left her with another problem as well. She couldn't allow the fact that she knew about the Order to become general knowledge to the people. She could think of more than one upstart House that would try and use the knowledge to try and unseat House Tyrell from their place of power. Which was why she'd had Left and Right…encourage the Maester of Highgarden to down his entire supply of poisons before leaping out of his tower right onto a rather conveniently located rack of spears. But while she'd managed to cover her insight into the Order, the people of Westeros were still looking at House Tyrell and blaming them for the Maesters being able to act so brazenly right under their nose. They were the Wardens of the South after all, and the Citadel fell within their jurisdiction. It'd been their responsibility to watch over the Maesters, and they'd failed at that.

In time this whole debacle would be forgotten, but until then House Tyrell would have to be vigilant with their vassals. 'Gods, what a simplistic fool I was, ' she cursed herself as her regret at having failed to act reared its ugly head once more. She should have just exposed the Order of the Guiding Hand the moment she learned of them and started decorating Oldtown with their heads. But no. She hadn't done that. Instead, she had tried to use them. And now the Starks and the Sorcerer were being heralded by the people for uncovering the conspiracy of the Maesters and cleaning up their mess. The 'Second Hour of the Wolf' the people were calling it, in reference to the first 'Hour of the Wolf' when Cregan Stark took over governance of King's Landing after the Dance of Dragons. And just like his ancestor had before him, Stark swept into King's Landing, oversaw and performed a few beheadings, and then left to head back North.

Unfortunately, her failure to take proper action against the Maesters was not her only blunder, or even the biggest of her blunders. No. That honor lied with her inaction in trying to coerce the Sorcerer to come south. She should've acted years ago when Mace had returned from the Greyjoy Rebellion with tales of a so-called 'sorcerer' in the employ of the Starks. But instead she simply assumed that, if the man was even half of what her oaf of a son claimed him to be, he would grow tired of the boring North and the Starks who were hosting him. After all, what was there in the North besides cold, snow, trees and constant threats from the Wildlings? She assumed that he would grow bored and eventually head south to seek his fortune, and when he did that was when she was planning on striking. Offering him a place of honor at Highgarden's court, perhaps even offering him a lady from the Tyrell family line to keep him here. But had he done that? No. In complete defiance of what she thought he'd do, he stayed in the North. And not only had he stayed put, but he had helped turn the North into a thriving land that while not quite at the level of wealth held by the Reach or the Westerlands, was far from being the poorest land in all of Westeros.

Looking down at her desk, she glanced over the pair of glass wine chalices that she'd had commissioned from the North. The cups themselves were in the shape of roses with the petals acting as the cup and a green stem below. The pieces were incredibly detailed to the point where they almost looked exactly like a rose. The man who'd made them even managed to tint the glass to give the peddles a light red coloring while the stem was a dark green. They'd cost a small fortune, but they were worth it to see just how truly talented these Northern glass smiths had become. And they were talented. It had only taken a few years, but now the North had completely replaced the Myrish as the principle supplier of glass in not only Westeros, but also the northern parts of Essos as well.

'If it was just glass they were making, I would be able to deal with that, ' Olenna thought ruefully, sitting down and spying the next item on her desk, a bowl of exotic fruit grown in the North, and only in the North. 'But no. The sorcerer not only helped the North to create their glass trade, he also helped them set up numerous other ventures as well. New forms of alcohol. A way of copying books in days rather than weeks. New medicines that can even cure greyscale. New food stuffs unseen in all of Westeros. And a new place of learning…a place that will now surely see quite the uptake in members thanks to the actions of the moronic idiots in the Citadel. '

Forcing down thoughts of the Maester's once more, Olenna focused more at the problem at hand. Had she acted when she'd first learned of him, she could've enticed the sorcerer south and all the gifts he'd given House Stark and the North would belong to House Tyrell. But because she had hesitated, the North was now the primary recipient of the man's gifts. Hells, he'd even begun teaching the children of House Stark how to use his magic. And doing a damn fine job of it considering Eddard Stark's bastard son was able to handily defeat a member of the Kingsgaurd during a Trial by Combat. The man had even taken a northern woman as his wife. The fact that the girl was a former serving girl might be a fact that some houses would try to exploit to break their union, but that was a fool's errand. The girl, from the tales she'd been told, was said to be her northern equivalent. Which was something that would insult a lesser lady, but Olenna was not insulted. The girl had earned her place. And even if she wasn't born a noble, she now was one with her marriage to the sorcerer.

'He is a full Northerner now, ' Olenna thought with dismay. 'With everything he has set up in the North, he will never leave. But, when the gods close one door, they open another. The sorcerer may be lost to House Tyrell, but the game is far from over. '

Pulling out several pieces of parchment, Olenna grabbed her ink well and best quill and started getting to work creating a few drafts. " Left, " she called out, not bothering to raise her head from her work as she addressed her guards. " Wait until my son has finished stuffing his face and then bring him here. Right, see to the assembly of a proper escort for a long voyage and have the servants begin packing enough for several months. Shoo. "

By the time her son finally arrived, Olenna had gone through no less than a dozen drafts of what she had been working on and two full ink wells. Pausing from her work, she took a moment to gaze at her son. Which proved to be a mistake as she couldn't contain her scoff. The Fat Flower he was called. And unfortunately, it was an apt name for her son. And it was a name that he had unfortunately done nothing to try and dismiss or counter. Thank the gods her grandchildren at least gave her hope for House Tyrell's future. Willias, despite his crippled leg, would make for an excellent future Lord Tyrell. Hells, if she could truly have her way, she would ship her son and his wife off to some villa in the hills and leave the two there until Willias could formally take over. Garlan was the Warrior reborn with Loras proving himself as well and aiding to repair relations between the Tyrells and Baratheons. Though she did wish he would do so without biting a pillow. And Margaery, her sweet flower, she carried with her the hopes and dreams of House Tyrell. And thank the gods that she had the mind and the body to see those dreams come true.

" Mother, " her son greeted her, a food stain on his shirt directly below his mouth. " Was there something that you wis—? "

" Sit, " Olenna commanded, pointing to the chair directly across from her as she slid the two finalized documents she'd spent all day drafting. " Sign these. "

Frowning, Mace reached over for her quill before thinking better of it and reading what she'd handed him. 'At least not all of my lessons have been for not with him. ' " Mother, " Mace said, his brow furrowed as he read over the first document. " This is a…recruitment drive for the Night's Watch? "

" Congratulations, Mace, you have a pair of eyes and can use them, " she scoffed.

The writ called for all the cells in the Reach to be emptied of all who were willing to take the Black. But that wasn't all it called for, otherwise she wouldn't have needed her son's name on it. It also called for every able-bodied man, young or old, to take the Black as well. And knowing how well that would go over, she added a clause that, pending on the man's age and ability, their family would be compensated a set amount of gold for them joining. An old man joining the Watch would give a family enough coin for a few years. A young man joining the Watch would earn his family enough coin to last a decade if spent wisely.

" This…This will put quite the dent in our coffers mother. And some of our vassals may not take heed of the writ given their own limited coffers. " Mace stated, amazingly correct for once. " Why should we—? "

" Because while most of the kingdoms of Westeros find the Night's Watch to be little more than a penial colony to send our undesirables. The North find the place as one of honor and respect those who voluntarily take the Black. And given recent events with eyes towards the future, it would behoove us to curry some favor with the North. " Olenna lectured her son. " And while this will hurt our coffers a touch, it is nothing that we will not be able to recover from in a few years. "

Setting the parchment down, Mace scratched at his immaculately trimmed beard. Honestly, if the lad spent even half the time he spent in front of the mirror dedicated to his studies, then he could be an Archmaester by now. " But why should we care about gaining favor with the—? "

" What is this? " Olenna asked, pointing towards the twin wine glasses on her table.

" Umm, a pair of wine glasses. "

" Very good. Now, where were they created? " she pressed, making her son squirm.

" The North. "

" Good, now these? " she said, pointing towards the bowl of exotic fruit on her desk. " Where do these come from? "

" Um…? "

" The North as well, " Olenna sighed. 'Honestly, he doesn't even realize which food comes from which province? ' Reaching into her desk, she pulled out a small book and a flask of strong wine and set both on the desk before her. " I won't bother to ask this time, seeing as how you don't appear to know, but both of these also come from the North as well. Glass, ornate and practical. Strong wine and ale. New types of fruits and vegetables. And books. All coming from the North. Not the Reach. Not the Westerlands or any of the other kingdoms. Only the North. Now, tell me again why we shouldn't bother to try and gain favor with the North? "

Mace made to speak, but Olenna cut him off. " Have you looked at the taxes for the past year? The past three? No? Of course you haven't. Not unless they were written on a sweet roll. The North, while not our primary consumer of food, was second behind ourselves. But in the last few years the income from the North has been steadily declining. The glass gardens of Winterfell are numerous enough to feed the entirety of Winterfell on their own. And more and more glass gardens and farm steads are popping up all over the North, reducing their dependency on buying our crops. When they don't buy our crops, that means that our people don't get their coin. And if our people don't get their coin, then neither shall we through taxes. For too long the Reach has relied on the fact that we supply most of the food to the realm for our coin. Well, times have changed, and we need to change along with them. And what better example is there to emulate than the way the North has changed? Supplying men to the Night's Watch is a minor way to start getting into the North's good graces. The other is through this, which will also conveniently enough aid in our long-term goals. "

Taking up the second piece of parchment, her son again read over its contents with wide eyes. " This…?! But I thought it was decided that—! "

" That is a betrothal contract, correct, " Olenna said, answering her son before he could ask his question. " Granted, the terms greatly favor the North. But we must look past the short-term losses and towards the long-term gains. "

" But – But why–? "

" Who are the most eligible girls in all of Westeros that are at least within marriageable age with Crown Prince Joffrey? " Olenna asked before holding up three fingers. " I'll tell you. There are three that could be betrothed to the Prince without issue. Princess Arianne Martel. Though given the history between House Martel, House Baratheon, and House Lannister such a union is highly unlikely. Which leaves two front runners. Our own flower Margaery. And Sansa Stark. Now, given the nature of King Robert, who do you think he will choose for his son's queen? The daughter of the man he considers to be his brother in all but blood? Or the daughter of the House that fought against him during the Rebellion and held his brothers under siege and nearly killed them both. Who do you think the King will choose? Hmm? "

Mace swallowed, clearly uneasy. " Well, Loras has ensured us that he has Renly's ear and –"

" Oh, Loras has much more than Renly's ear, Mace, " Olenna scoffed. " And, in the end, it doesn't mean shit. Give them a few more years and the North will perhaps be able to match the wealth of the Westerlands and the Reach. And make no mistake, when they reach that point, Robert will betroth his son to Sansa Stark. Once that happens, House Tyrell's hopes of gaining access to the royal family dies for at least another generation. There are only two ways to prevent this from happening. The first, well, the dragons and the Maesters have both learned what it means to anger the wolves so we will not be doing that. The second though is to make it so that Sansa cannot be betrothed to the Prince because she is already betrothed to the future Lord of the Reach. "

" But – But Willias is twice the girl's age an–"

" Willias has just celebrated his one-and-twenty nameday while Sansa has recently turned one-and-ten. " Olenna countered. " There have been far greater age disparities, just look at Jon Arryn and Lysa Arryn, for example. Plus, the girl will not wed until she has reached the age of six-and-ten and is a full woman. By marrying Sansa to Willias, we remove the primary competition for our Margaery becoming the next queen of Westeros. And we also gain access to the growing power that is the North. And, if rumors are to be believed, Sansa is not only a great beauty despite her age, but she also apparently has the same powers as the Sorcerer and her siblings. Powers that apparently can be passed down to her children, the future of House Tyrell. Now, do I need to keep holding your hand about this situation? Or will you sign the damn contracts already? "

Her son was clearly not pleased with the way the conversation had been going, but she honestly didn't care seeing as how half of her days were spent cleaning up her son's mess and making sure that their lords didn't get some crazy idea in their heads like thinking that they would perhaps be better Wardens of the South. The staring contest between her and her son was over before it could even truly begin as Mace quickly went about putting his name at the bottoms of each contract. " I can have riders sent out first thing in the morning to deliver the terms to Winterfell. "

" That will not be necessary, " Olenna said, dusting both contracts to dry the ink before rolling them up and securing them. " The betrothal between Sansa Stark and Willias is far too important to leave in the hands of some idiot rider. This requires an experienced hand to make sure that the Starks agree. So, I will be heading to Winterfell myself and deliver these terms in person. And Willias, Garlan and Margaery will be accompanying me to the North as well. "

" What? " Mace stammered. " W–Why would you nee—? "

" Because it will be good for them, " Olenna countered, getting up in order to pour herself a glass of wine, purposefully not pouring a second for her son. He didn't need more to addle his brain. " The Starks are the oldest remaining family in Westeros and have held rulership of the North since the beginning of recorded history. Perhaps longer. It will be good for Willias to learn for a time under the man who will, hopefully, be his good father within the next few years. As for Garlan, our gallant son of House Tyrell might be considered one of the best knights in the realm but there is still much he can learn. Especially from men as skilled as Lord Stark and Lord Nox. And as for Margaery, our goal is to place her as the next queen of Westeros. And a part of her future kingdom will be the North, a land that is at the best of times willingly ignorant of the South. Giving her time in the North will give her the foundation for how to bring the North better into the fold when she takes up her crown. Also, I've received a letter from House Forrester all but begging for one of their daughters to be taken in as one of Margaery's ladies. And considering all the advantages, I've decided to allow it to further our relations with the North. Now, is there anything else you want to say? If not, then go. I have a lot to think about and do before we leave for the North. "

Whistling a light tune as he strolled through the gardens surrounding Sunspear, Oberyn Martell found himself feeling lighter than he had in sometime. The sole reason for his elation could be boiled down to a single word. Revenge. Not the revenge he was hoping for of course, after all, the old lion and his mad dog and the fat king all still drew breath while his beloved sister did not. But it was revenge nonetheless. Revenge against the foolish Maesters who had spent decades, perhaps centuries, making fools of all the people of Westeros.

When word had first reached them about what had transpired in Winterfell the reaction of Dorne was, mixed to say the least. The Starks, while acknowledge to perhaps be the primary reason why the Rebellion was able to succeed, had earned the respect of Dorne because they'd gone to war after the unjust execution of Rickard and Brandon Stark and the kidnapping of Lyanna Stark. So, when word reached them that several of their vassal houses had attempted a coup, there were some who said that the wolves deserved their fate, but many more who were outraged by what had transpired. Oberyn, for his part, was one of those who were outraged.

He would never call Ned Stark a friend, but he did at least respect the man. Whatever sins Stark had committed, his children were innocent of them. He did not deserve to have his wife and youngest son murdered in his halls. But while he would not call Stark a friend, he did consider Nox to be a friend. A friend who nearly lost his wife and did lose his child in the coup. It took his brother Doran all but placing him under arrest to prevent him from taking the first ship he could find and sailing North to kill any and all responsible for the atrocity. And he wasn't the only one either. His niece Arianne had also been visibly upset by the news. Though he was positive that her anger was direct solely at the fact that her recent interest had nearly lost his life.

'She's got good tastes, even if he is a Northerner, ' Oberyn thought, his mind straying towards the young lad he had spent over a moon's time with during the expedition to Valyria. 'She could certainly do worse, that's for sure. Though she might not be given the option to choose if Doran's plan comes to fruition. She'll be queen of Westeros… Though perhaps taking the boy on as a paramour could help bridge relations with the North when the time comes…but that is an issue for another time. Nothing has been set in stone yet. And I have something much more interesting to discuss with Doran other than his daughter's love life. '

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