Chapter 23 4 страница

" Whether she succeeded or not is none of your concern, Varys, " Cersei answered him, playing it off as if she had known about her father sending the bastard North the whole time. " It is a matter for House Lannister and none of your concern. "

" Of course, your grace, " Varys replied, seemingly unsurprised by her response. " Then I shall leave you be, your grace. Oh, before I leave, there is one more piece of news that I believe you will be interested in hearing. It appears that it is not only your uncle and brother who have gone to pay a visit to the Starks. My birds have sung songs saying that the Martells are making their way to Winterfell as well as the Tyrells, though they unfortunately did not sing just who amongst the families are making the voyage. Good day, your grace. "

The moment the eunuch left her chambers, Cersei's delicate hold on her anger disappeared and she let out a scream and picked up the nearest thing she could find, a vase of some sort, and threw it across the room with such force that it shattered into countless pieces against the wall across the room from her. 'I have to write my father! ' she mentally screeched, her breath coming out in near pants as she began pacing. 'First, he refuses to do anything after Jamie's unjust punishment! And now he sends the bastard girl North to gain the favor of the sorcerer without telling me! Me! His own daughter and Queen of the Seven Kingdoms! Whatever plot he has hatched regarding the sorcerer, I need—no, I should have been—in the know about. That man is a menace to the kingdom and our power. Yes. I need to write my father again. Only this time not as a daughter to a father, but rather as a Queen to her subject and demand to know why he neglected to inform me of this little plan of his. That last bit…The Martells and the Tyrells? I'm not surprised those power-hungry roses are trying to suck the wolves' cocks. They latch onto whoever has power and try to steal it from them as they are unable to create any true power themselves. The Martells, though… Why would they care about the frozen wolves that lay on the opposite side of the Seven Kingdoms from them? Ugh… Father should have just routed the snakes out completely just like he did to the Reyne's and Tarbecks. But no. Because he didn't, we now must keep an ever-vigilant eye on the snakes because of what happened to that fucking slut Elia. And now they're traveling to visit the wolves? They're plotting their revenge…I just know it! But I won't let them anywhere near my precious lion or what is rightfully his! '

Ceasing her pacing, Cersei stood in the center of her room taking several deep breaths as she reigned in her anger. 'Calm. Father always preached that anger clouds your ability to think clearly. I must be calm to plan. The sorcerer and the wolves have become too powerful. I need to find a way to first weaken them before they can be brought back fully under control like the wretched dogs they are. But how? '

With her mind so focused on figuring out how to start discrediting the sorcerer and the wolves, Cersei didn't even realize she'd left her rooms until the doors shut behind her and her guards, mostly wearing Lannister red and gold as they should be, took up positions around her with Moore standing closest to her. Without saying a word, she marched towards the gardens of the Red Keep, hoping that a walk might just calm her enough to allow her to think clearly.

Entering the gardens, she immediately noticed the sound of someone singing a tale of some sort, accompanied by the excited voices of children. Her mood lightening ever so slightly, Cersei immediately headed towards the noise as she recognized the children as her own. Coming to a small clearing, Cersei smiled despite her current ill mood as she found Tommen and Myrcella sitting close to one another with Ser Oakheart of the Kingsgaurd standing vigil behind the two. Neither of her two little lions noticed her approach as they were both fully fixated on a bard sitting before them on a stone bench. " —for such an act of evil could not be punished so easily. Death was far too quick. And no pain could match that of a parent's loss of a child. So, a curse he placed upon the fool. A curse of life! A life of eternal torment as he would remain sealed inside a stone prison for all eternity! Wails and pleas for mercy went unheard as the fool who thought to end the love of the sorcerer and stole his child from him was placed into stone and thrown to the sea, not to die. But to live a life unlike any – Your grace! "

Whatever good mood Cersei had gained from seeing her children immediately died as she recognized the tale they were being told. " I do not believe that such a tale is suitable for my children's ears, " she said, approaching the now kneeling bard and her two children who had sprung up to their feet to greet her.

" Please mother, it's a wonderful tale! " her beautiful little lioness pleaded with wide eyes while quiet little Tommen stayed behind his sister. " And Warner tells it so well! Even father said that it is a tale worth hearing! Please! This is the only scary part… The rest is about the Sorcerer and his love, the Beauty of the North, Lady Nyra Nox. "

Cersei ground her teeth at hearing her precious daughter refer to that fat fool as her father. If only she could tell her sweet little lions the truth. But what truly caused her anger to peak was hearing her own daughter refer to that whore who'd stolen the sorcerer's power as the 'Beauty of the North'. Ha! What a joke. There was no such thing. The North had no beauty. Only barren snow-covered lands with barbarians who called it home.

" That…woman is no beauty, Myrcella, " Cersei said, kneeling in front of her daughter. " She's nothing more than a lowborn whore who more than likely slept with half of the North before falling into the Sorcerer's bed. And that is not the sort of woman that a Princess like yourself should be looking up to. "

" She's not – She's not like that! " Myrcella cried out, stamping her foot angrily. " She's the most beautiful woman in the realm! " 'Until there comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all that you hold dear. ' " And they say that during her wedding to the Sorcerer that the old gods blessed her with a golden crown upon her head, showing the sorcerer had chosen the right woman for his bride! " 'Gold shall be their crowns and gold their shrouds. ' " She's not a whore! She's a beautiful maiden wh—"

Cersei hadn't even realized she'd moved until she felt a sting on the palm of her hand where it'd connected with her daughter's cheek. She could only stare in horror, unable to comprehend what had just happened as her daughter, hands raised to cradle a steadily reddening cheek, trembled before her while Tommen whimpered and cowered behind Myrcella.

Rising to her feet, Cersei brushed at the unseen dirt on her dress as she tried to pretend that nothing had just transpired. " You must watch your step, dear Myrcella. You are growing quickly and you're not as sure footed as you once were. Ser Oakheart. My children are tired from the day's activities. Take them back to their rooms and have them both lay down for a nap. "

The young Kingsgaurd looked troubled for a moment, but a stern look from herself that sent the promise of retribution quelled whatever troubles he might have, and he quickly moved to usher her children out of the yard and back to their rooms.

Only when her children were out of sight did Cersei look down at the hand that struck her daughter. 'Why did I do that?! My daughter…My beautiful lioness… It's the sorcerer. It must be. Whatever trick he played on me on that first night…That's what caused me to strike my daughter! Yes! That's it. But there is an upside to this. I now know what the sorcerer and his little whore have planned! They plan to steal my throne. Yes. That little northern whore is without a doubt the one the witch warned me about. First, she stole the sorcerer's power away from the ones who should truly be using it. And now she seeks to claim the throne that is not hers. But I won't let that accursed prophecy come true. I will not be brought low! And I will not let my beloved little lions die at their hands! She is the key! She must be removed! '

'Yes. Removed. '

Shaking, Cersei glanced around as a shiver went down her spine. 'Just the wind, ' she thought, noticing the still shaking leaves. 'But how to remove her? I doubt there is any assassin in Westeros that would do the deed, no matter what was offered. The Faceless men? A possibility. But that would take time to set up and there would be no guarantee that they would even take the contract in the first place. And going that route could potentially lead back to me. So…how to remove her? '

" Umm, your grace? Do you – Do you still have need of me? "

Spying the bard out of the corner of her eye, Cersei was struck with a thought on how to begin separating the two. 'Words have power. If enough of the sheep believe something to be true, then it doesn't matter whether it was true or not to begin with. '

" Do you have a family? "

The bard blinked, then hastily nodded. " Yes, your grace. A wife and a boy no older than you—"

" I asked you a simple question, not for your life story, bard, " Cersei snapped, rounding on the man who flinched at her tone and presence. 'Good. Fear. That is what is needed. That is what I want! This is what I deserve! ' " I will not hear another pleasant word about that northern whore in the Red Keep again, do I make myself clear? "

The bard swallowed and nodded. " Yes, your grace. Forgive me fo—"

" Forgiveness is earned, bard. And you will earn it or pay the price. " Cersei continued over the stumbling man. " You will compose a song that sings to the truth of the Northern whore, not that drivel you've been spouting. Be as colorful and inventive as you want. But I want it to be on the lips of bards throughout the city and in the ears of all those who can hear within a sennight. "

The bard blinked and paled. " Y–Your grace, I–I don't know if–"

" Fail to do so or try and flee the city and I will have you and your family hunted down on charges of treason against the crown, " Cersei added, feeling a thrill go through her as the man's eyes widened in fear. " You will be placed in a giblet for the rest of your life and given the perfect view to watch as your wife and son swing from the gallows. Understand? "

The bard nodded quickly. " Yes, your grace. "

" Leave, " Cersei demanded, turning her back on the bard as the man quickly scrambled to gather his meager belongings before all but running away from her. 'I will not let that witch's prophecy come true, ' Cersei seethed, her hand's closing into tight fists at her side. 'The sorcerer and his whore are seeking to take that which is mine! I will not let them have it! '

Lowering himself into his seat within the Small Council chambers, Jon Arryn cursed his old bones as his joints ached and popped as he sat down fully. Seeing that he was still alone in the chamber, Jon took the moment of peace he had to rub at the aching muscles and joints in his legs. 'Five-and-ten years ago, I was a man who could still ride into the thick of battle and slay men less than half my age. Now here I am…almost defeated by a single flight of stairs. By the Seven and even the old gods…I'm getting far too old for this shit. Perhaps it is time I finally announce my resignation as Hand of the King. I've served ever since Robert had that crown put on his head…I deserve some time for peace before the Seven call me to their side. '

But as quick as the thought came, Jon immediately dismissed it. He knew that he could not resign his position. Not yet. There were still too many loose ends that needed to be cleared up before he would feel that the time was right to leave his post. Hearing the door open, Jon wasn't surprised to see Stannis march into the chambers with his head held high. But what did surprise him was the fact that Robert was right behind his brother.

" Your grace, " Jon muttered, attempting to rise despite the protesting from his legs.

" No need for that, Jon, " Robert said, motioning for him to stay seated. " Keep your ass in that chair and stay comfortable. Gods know if anyone has earned the right to be comfortable, it's you. "

Nodding his thanks, Jon remained in his seat as Robert took his place at the head of the table while Stannis took his seat to his brother's immediate right. Soon after the king's arrival, the rest of the Small Council arrived as first Varys, then Baelish, and lastly Renly made their way into the Small Council chambers and took their respective seats. The position of Grandmaester was still vacant as the Citadel was still working on clearing out the traitors and finding a suitable replacement for Pycelle.

" Alright, " Robert bellowed, slamming his fist down on the table. " Let's get this counting copper shit over with already. Stannis, we're the fuck are we with the barrels of wildfyre the Mad-fucking-King left behind? "

Folding his hands in front of his mouth to hide his grimace, Jon only paid partial attention to Stannis as the king's brother began detailing the amount of wildfyre that'd been disposed of and how much was still under the city. 'As much as I would like to think that I am responsible for Robert's sudden interest in ruling like a true king, I know that is not the case. ' Jon sighed as he watched the boy he raised at least start to act the part of a king by listening to his advisors and issuing commands after thinking them over. 'But after failing to turn him into a true king for so long, I know that I am not the cause for this even slight turn towards being a proper ruler. That accolade belongs with Ned and the Sorcerer Nox. '

" —it will still be some moons until we can be completely certain that there are no lingering caches beneath the city, " Stannis continued as Jon turned his attention away from his failure and fully onto Stannis. " But the majority of the city is clear of the wildfyre and the threat they posed. "

" Good, " Robert nodded before turning to Renly. " And what of the pyromancers? "

" All of those who were around during the reign of the Mad King have been put to the sword, " Renly stated, though Jon could easily see that the young man was uncomfortable with what he'd been tasked to do. For not the first time he thought about urging Robert to replace Renly as Master of Laws. The lad was popular with the small folk, but Jon feared that the boy simply lacked the constitution to do what needed to be done. " Those who were not are being kept under close watch by the goldcloaks. "

" Good, " Robert nodded and turned his attention towards Varys. " Spider. Have your worthless little birds finally put an end to the fucking dragonspawn in Essos? '

" Unfortunately, no, your grace, " Varys replied calmly, his arms folded into the sleeves of his robes. " The last song I heard from my little birds in Essos had the Beggar King and his sister in Volantis, however they have long since left and were seen heading north. I've sent word to my birds in both Norvos and Qohor to keep a watch for either and to send word if they are seen. Though I do have other songs that his grace might be interested in. A rather peculiar song that was sung to me by one of my birds in the North. "

Jon sat up straighter as he noticed Robert scowl over the fact that the Targaryens had once again disappeared. 'Clever, Varys. Distract him from your failure to find the Targaryens by bringing up the Starks. '

" What is going on now? " Robert asked, now very interested on the issue at hand.

Varys took his time in unfolding his arms from his sleeves, revealing a small raven's scroll in the process. " It appears that Winterfell will soon, if it is not already, host to not one, not two, but three visiting noble families. The Lannisters, the Tyrells, and the Martells are all on their way to Winterfell as we speak. And if the weather holds, I do believe that all three families will be arriving in Winterfell around the same time. "

The news made Jon's already old heart skip a beat. One great house visiting another wasn't unheard of. But to have four great houses under the same roof at the same time? Gods only knew what was going to happen. If betrothals were made, which was more than likely given the gathering, then the next few days could very well shape the next generation of leadership throughout most of Westeros. And neither Jon, nor the crown, had any representative to speak on their behalf.

" Who leads each house? " Stannis asked, clearly very interested. And it wasn't a wonder as to why considering that his daughter was in Winterfell under the tutelage of the sorcerer. 'We'll have to send a raven to her immediately with instructions… But can we truly trust a young girl Shireen's age to speak on behalf of the Crown and House Baratheon…? No…No, we can't. '

Varys pulled out a second scroll from his sleeves and took his time in opening it. " From what I've heard, it's quite the group. From House Lannister, it appears that Lord Tyrion and Lord Gerion are escorting the Lady Joy to Winterfell in hopes that she will catch the eye of Lord Nox and become another of his acolytes. Lady Olenna Tyrell has personally set out from Highgarden. And she brought along all of her grandchildren, save for Ser Loras, who is still in service as Lord Renly's squire. The Martells have sent Prince Oberyn along with his paramour and his daughters. However, he is not leading the delegation. That honor belongs to Princess Arianne Martell. And rumor has it that the Princess of Dorne has acquired a sort of…infatuation with the white wolf of Winterfell, Jon Stark. The two apparently grew close during the northern expedition brief stay at Sunspear. "

The last part brought a surge of relief through Jon. 'Finally, something is going right for a change. '

" A Princess infatuated with a former bastard, " Baelish sighed while shaking his head. " The Dornish truly are an interesting lot. Or perhaps they see this as a way of revenge for Elia Martell. Take the former bastard from his family and then the Princess uses her womanly ways to turn the boy against his family. It wouldn't be the first time such an act has been carried out. The question is: should we trust that the boy has the force of mind to resist the wiles of the Princess of Dorne? "

Jon wanted to strangle Baelish as he noticed that the man's word had an effect on Robert.

" The sorcerer has shown many times that he is not a man who can be so easily swayed, Lord Baelish, " Stannis countered, leveling his gaze at the Master of Coin.

" Yes, he has, " Baelish nodded. " But the bastard is not the Sorcerer. He is but still a boy who is just now at the age of discovering the pleasures of the flesh. And the Princess of Dorne is apparently quite the beauty. And given the nature of the Dornish, how long do you think the boy will be able to hold out against her? "

" And what would you suggest, Baelish? " Renly asked, leaning forward with his elbows on the table.

" Make it so that the boy is unable to be tied to the girl, and therefore cannot be used as a weapon against his family or the crown by the Dornish, " Baelish replied easily. " The North holds the Night's Watch in high regard, or perhaps the position on the Kingsgaurd that the boy opened with the slaying of Ser Trant. Both Orders take vows of celibacy. Therefore stopping any potential ways the Dornish could try and use the boy. "

" No, " Jon said, mustering all the strength he could into his voice.

Blinking, Robert cocked his head towards Jon. " Why not? I agree the boy would be wasted at the Watch. But if we were to offer him a spot on the Kingsguard, it would give us direct control over Nox's apprentice. Hells, it might even convince the man to finally come south and take up the position as Master of the Arcane on this council that is waiting for him. "

Jon had to fight to keep his displeasure from showing on his face. Everything about the sorcerer just screamed…well…wrong to him. His magic was a power that should only be held by the Seven. And while he wouldn't—and couldn't—deny its usefulness, the fact that a man so outside the Andal faith could wield it with such efficiency was concerning. It was even more concerning given the fact that Nox honestly didn't seem to care about the fact that Robert was his king. He just did what he wanted, regardless of what anyone else thought or wanted. Robert found the Sorcerer's attitude amusing and refreshing. But Jon saw it as nothing more than a danger that needed to be corrected before it spread out to the masses.

" Because Jon Stark is perhaps our best way of bringing the Martells and the rest of Dorne back into the fold, " Jon stated, staring right into Robert's eyes as he spoke. " Even now five-and-ten years later, the Dornish hold a grudge for what happened to Elia and her children. They hate you. They hate me. And they hate the Lannisters for holding dominion over those they find responsible. But despite their hatred, they have opened their doors to the North. Jon Stark is the son of Ashara Dayne. There is no doubt about that. He is a son of Dorne and of the North, yet he was raised in the North and by all accounts loves his siblings and would do nothing to ever bring them harm. And the North has become a very influential region ever since you took the crown. And their loyalty to you and the crown is without question. If Jon were to become attached to the Princess and essentially become the next Prince Consort of Dorne, it would do much to bring the Dornish back into the fold. "

Jon had been working towards that very goal for years. Spreading the tale of Jon's birth into Dorne as well as tales of his deeds in hopes of catching the attention of the Martells, which it had. Then the boy had taken care of the next part by living up to the tales Jon had spung throughout Dorne during his brief stay in Sunspear. And now the Princess was apparently infatuated with the boy. If it was within his power to do so, he would march both to the nearest sept and have them wedded and bedded within a fortnight. But unfortunately, should he tip his hand in such a way or if Robert called for the betrothal, then the Dornish would immediately back out due to spite.

" An interesting strategy, Lord Hand, " Varys smiled at him. " Now I understand why you wished to have my little birds begin singing songs of Jon's birth and his late mother, the Lady Ashara Dayne. "

Robert blinked, turning first to Varys and then back to Jon. " Yes, Robert, I have been working towards this very objective for some years now. "

" Blah, seems a waste of time, " Robert grumbled. " We should just issue a decree stating their betrothal and be—"

" No, that is the one thing we cannot do, " Jon groaned. Apparently, Robert had not been listening too well. " The Dornish, and the Martells in particular, hate you. They hate me. They hate all of us. If you were to issue a decree announcing the betrothal between Jon Stark and Princess Arianne Martell, the Dornish would refuse out of pure spite and perhaps even call themselves to arms in defiance. We have to handle this carefully and from a distance in order for our long term goals to be achieved. "

Scratching the back of his head, Robert sighed and shook his head. " Fine Jon. We'll go about it your way. Now, what the fuck else do we have to talk about? Get it out quickly, cause I need to fucking piss. "

Leading his brother to his workspace within the Sorcerer's Tower of Winterfell, Samwell Tarly felt more than a touch of excitement run through him as he prepared himself to show his brother just what he'd been working on ever since he'd arrived in the North. Their reunion the previous day had been quick, as Dickon had stayed with the Tyrells as was proper given his station as Ser Garlan's squire. But today the knight of Highgarden had dismissed his brother for the day, giving the two a chance to truly reunite after years of separation.

" So, brother, what exactly is all of this…stuff? " Dickon asked as Sam led his brother into the workshop where Sam spent most of his time.

" It would take days to actually tell you about everything in here, " Sam told his brother, " And truth be told, I think only Lord Nox actually understands everything that is going on in here. I don't even know what half of this stuff does and I work closer with Lord Nox than perhaps any of the other students at the Winterfell College, save for Lady Talisa. "

" Lady Talisa, " Dickon repeated with a smile. " Now that is a woman. Not quite as fine as Lady Margaery…but I definitely wouldn't mind sharing a night with her. "

Stopping, Samwell turned and faced his brother. " Careful, Dickon. Robb has his eye on her. And trust me, you do not want to get in the way of the Starks once they have their eye on something. Or try and take something that they care about away from them. The Boltons, Ryswells, Whitehills, Ser Corbray, and the Maesters are just the latest to learn the truth of that statement. "

His brother's grin faded as his face went white. " Well, I mean I guess if she's spoken for then it would be in bad taste to pursue such a woman…No matter how fine she might be. But enough talk of the wolves, brother. I'm anxious to see just what you can do after being under the tutelage of the sorcerer for so long. But I do have to wonder why we are up here in the tower in this strange craftsman shop rather than down in the yard. "

Sam frowned as he knew that he would no longer be able to avoid the topic. " Dickon…Lord Nox never took me on as his acolyte. I don't have the gift of the Force. "

His brother blinked, then laughed. " That's a good one, Sam. But everyone knows that the sorcerer only keeps around those who have the same ability as he. So, you must have this magic…or is it that you're ashamed of it? Or are you not powerful enough to really do anything? "

" Lord Nox doesn't dismiss people just because they can't use the Force brother, " Sam countered with a sigh. " He dismisses those who don't show any promise to him. If they have an affinity for the Force, he will take them on as acolytes. But then there are others like myself who, even though we don't have the Force, we still managed to impress him and Lord Stark enough to earn a place within the Winterfell College. "

Dickon continued to stare at him as if trying to decide whether he was having a go of him. " By the Seven, brother, " Dickon finally sighed. " I thought that you were one of the Sorcerer's magic users. I guess that means that I can't become a magic knight either then, huh? "

" Probably not, " Sam replied, shaking his head. " Lord Nox has an uncanny ability to sense those like himself. If you had the same magic as he, he would've conscripted you into the ranks of his acolytes the moment you walked through the gates of Winterfell. "

Sighing, Dickon looked around the workshop. " Well, if you haven't been learning magic from the sorcerer, then what have you been doing all these years up here in the North? "

Smiling and feeling slightly giddy, Sam led his brother over to the newest project Lord Nox had assigned to himself and the others at the College. " A lot. I've helped to create the medicine the sorcerer uses to cure greyscale. We've created a pump system that can move water from one location to another using pipes, though it's not really all that efficient right now. I've also been tasked by the King and Lord Stark to help Lord Robb work on creating a new type of roadway that will support a new type of fast transportation between Winterfell and White Harbor. But lately I've been working on this. "

Pulling back on a blanket, Sam revealed a bench that had a sharp blade that was attached to a bar allowing it to move back and forth across the length of the table. And in the middle, there were a set of clamps with spikes to hold something in place. And on one end of the table was a turning wheel that was attached to one of the spikes. " This is a lathe, " Sam explained, seeing the clearly confused look on his brother's face. " Right now, it's used to shape wood into specific shapes quickly, and we're working on adapting it to shape steel as well. Here, watch this. "

Picking up a log the size of his arm, Sam set it between the two spikes before turning another wheel to bring the spikes closer together, skewering the log and holding it in place. " Turn the wheel, and make sure you go as fast as you can. " Sam told Dickon as he worked on positioning the sharp blade that was attached to the tabled against the log.

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