Jon had expected Lord Baratheon's health would have declined but he had not expected the man to be suffering this much. He was sweating, his face was contorted in pain and his cheeks had an unnaturally red colouring. Even though scented candles had been place in strategic spots all around the room, the smell of human waste and sickness was still predominant.
"Your Grace," Robert Baratheon whispered when he noticed the young man. "I am glad you ca-came."
"I am at your disposal, Lord Baratheon." Jon seated himself trying to keep his face neutral. "You wished to speak to me."
"I did. I wanted to talk to you in private so you know my words are true. There is no need for me to keep up the pretense. There are no witnesses present. What we say now is just between the two of us."
A short pause was necessary for Lord Baratheon to catch his breath. Jon waited patiently for the man to continue.
"I wish you all the best, your Grace. I worshipped your mother and would have loved to see you grow up. I want your reign to be prosperous. So I wanted to warn you." He stopped out of breath once more.
Jon who had leaned a bit closer in order to hear the softly spoken words was caught by surprise. "Warn me?"
The former King looked almost desperate in his struggle to gather enough energy so he could explain. "Warn about wife, my former … wife."
Jon frowned. "Cersei Lannister."
The sick man nodded. "Ned told me of your com-compassionate nature. Don't let her trick you into feeling guilty about her fate and compel you to release her. She is … devious, …da-da-dangerous and not to be … trusted." Again he stopped out of breath.
"We should have executed her but your … Uncle, dammit Ned is too lenient. Don't make the same mistake and be too lenient with her." His chest heaved by the effort to take in enough air to continue. Soon though the sick man's determination prevailed and he was once more able to continue. "She will be a threat to your reign. Your loved ones will never be safe." A coughing fit shook his body.
Jon felt helpless and didn't know how to act. He offered the man a piece of cloth to clean the spit from his mouth. Lord Baratheon accepted the cloth and very slowly brought it closer to his mouth. He wiped the wrong side of his mouth with it but Jon kept silent and waited until Robert Baratheon choose to continue.
"She will find a way to destroy you if you let her. Check that she is safely confined or ex-execute her at the first opportunity." Robert Baratheon sagged deeper into his furs relieved he had gotten the words out.
"I don't know what to say to that." Jon said eying the man that looked at the end of his forces. "I had not given her much thought to be honest."
"Whatever you do, don't be fooled by her." Robert Baratheon closed his eyes for a moment.
"I thank you for the advice, Lord Baratheon. Anything else you needed to talk to me about or that you want me to do for you?"
"My niece, Shireen, find her a goo-good husband." Lord Baratheon had opened his eyes again and looked beseechingly at the young man. "One who appreciates her for her keen mind and the nice, caring girl she is." Once more he stopped, out of breath.
Jon looked around but there was no cup water or wine present. He nodded hoping that the small gesture would be enough to appease the former King. He prayed that the interview would end soon.
"She needs a husband who is willing to see past her dis-disfigurement. I was … grieved to hear you were already be-betrothed. It would have been the ultimate solution."
Trying not to let on how much the sick man's struggles discomfited him, Jon didn't hesitate and responded immediately with a firm sounding voice. "I promise to look out for her as if she were a close cousin. You have my word."
"That is all I ask, your word. I know you are … true to it." A deep sigh followed these words. "Now I can rest in peace. Can you su-summon Ned, please?"
Jon relieved that this was all the former King had needed from him stood at once, said his goodbye and left the room in a hurry. Once outside he took a few deep breaths of cleaner air, only to find his uncle pacing in the hallway. "He is ready for you, Uncle." Jon said his face serious.
"What did he want, your Grace?" Ned had been rather worried and Davos' continuous speculations had only increased his own concern.
"A promise to take care of Shireen as in find her a decent husband plus a promise not to pardon former Queen Cersei."
Ned visibly relieved, urged him to inform Davos of this immediately and then disappeared into the chamber where is best friend was dying. His old friend didn't mince his words.
"It is time, Ned. You must help me end my suffering. I want something that will put me to sleep never to wake up again." He wheezed and barely got out his next words. "I have made my … peace. The realm will be well looked after. It doesn't need me anymore… Nobody needs me anymore."
***
Sam was growing apprehensive. He and Davos would be present during the two private audiences scheduled that afternoon. Dany had sent word that she had been delayed and would do everything to ensure that she could meet Jon in time for their excursion to the beach. Jon had taken it in stride and had asked Sam to come early so there were three of them to meet the Celtigars. Initially Sam had thought he would be waiting in the vicinity to be summoned when his brother was brought before the King.
The elderly Lord Celtigar had proudly presented the ancestral Valyrian axe. Jon and Sam had taken note of the particular design of the axe head. Jon had made sure to compliment House Celtigar on the pristine condition the weapon. He had made a show of admiring it thoroughly by pointing out how light it was, how well balanced and effective because of the unique shape of the axe head. He had thanked them profusely for having made the effort to bring the weapon to King's Landing and stressed that by this deed, House Celigar had contributed to the improvement of the royal armoury. The royal blacksmith would try to duplicate the design, even if the weapons could never be of such superior material.
Davos, still remembering the behaviour of Lord Celtigar's son during their first meeting when Jon was merely the Prince of Dragonstone, had closely monitored his reaction. This time the Celtigar heir left the room with a superior smirk on his face. 'Just one day and it has already been proven that King Aegon had a lot more support and leeway than the Prince of Dragonstone ever would, even amongst his own vassals.'
As soon as the doors had closed Jon turned to Sam and Davos with a contrite look on his face. "When I requested them to show me the axe, I didn't know that we would have a chance to produce our own Valyrian steel. I had to justify my request. I hope you weren't too uncomfortable with the show I put on."
"Not at all," Davos responded quietly. He had been shocked when Jon had finally let him in on their plans. He had almost chastised Jon not to have started the trials earlier in the North and on top of that to allow Gendry to create an additional delay by visiting Winterfell and accompanying slow travelling Ladies when he finally came South. Jon had needed to explain that the production of one batch of Valyrian steel would need almost a moon to complete with a dragon's assistance at several stages of the process.
Sam had helped him out by pointing out that Lord Reed's latest message had reassured them somewhat about the timeline. Not only did they have time on their side, they might also need to experiment some before succeeding. "Don't count on it that the first batch will yield the result we are striving for. Just ask Gendry about how complicated the process is when he is here."
When Davos had nodded and promised to keep their endeavours and hopes a secret until they had actually produced the high quality steel, Sam had changed the subject.
"Jon, would you be willing to make some sketches of the axe head later? You draw better than me. And you didn't exaggerate to placate Lord Celtigar. The design of the axe head was rather interesting. I want to show it to Gendry."
Jon smiled and nodded. Now that the King's full attention was on him, Sam grew nervous and started fiddling with his hands. "My brother is next? Has he uh arrived, you think?"
"Ser Oswell informed me that Dickon Tarly has been brought to the keep a while ago. You haven't warned him by sending a note or a messenger?"
Sam shook his head vigorously. "Of course not. You told me not to. My allegiance is to you, Jon."
"I don't doubt that, Sam. It is just, he is your blood. There was always the small chance he could have sought you out or that you two met by accident."
Sam didn't know what he had ever done to deserve Jon's loyalty and friendship. The kind expression on the King's face settled some of the anxiousness that moments before had made his voice shake. He shook his head to affirm once more that there had been no contact between him and Dickon at any point. Jon smiled encouragingly at Sam and gestured Ser Oswell to let Lord Dickon Tarly enter.
In adherence to the strategy they had all agreed on, Sam moved to the alcove that hid the side door from view. From there he could oversee the entire room. The eyes of anyone who entered would immediately be drawn to the King and his Hand.
A broad shouldered rather handsome young man entered the room. Despite his impeccable military posture, his eyes betrayed how nervous he was.
Davos spoke up. " Lord Tarly, I am Davos of House Seaworth, Hand of the King. You stand in the presence of King Aegon of House Targaryen, Sixth of his name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm, The Prince of Dragonstone, Rider of Dragons and Friend of the Free Folk.
Lord Dickon of House Tarly did not kneel. Instead he made a deep bow. "Your Grace. My Lord Hand."
They might not look alike at the first glance, but the nervous look on his brother's face and the twitch of his jaw were identical to what Sam often saw on his own face in the mirror. From his outlook post he could study both men's profiles and watched how a serious looking King formally greeted his younger brother.
"Lord Dickon of House Tarly. I heard a lot about you and your House. "
Dickon startled at that but kept silent not knowing why he had been chosen amongst all the competitors to come before the King. The streets were abuzz with rumours of the handsome young King who for the time being refused to grant audiences. But he had been summoned and had not been given the opportunity to decline. He would have preferred to confer with his father first but there had been no time. He barely had been allowed to change his attire before two guards had escorted him to the Red Keep.
"Can you tell me when I will hear from your Lord Father?" The King had kept standing and Dickon stood at least twenty foot away which set the tone of the meeting even more clearly than the cool formal voice of Jon. Sam saw his brother growing more and more uncomfortable
"I, uh, I'm not sure, your Grace. Perhaps he is waiting on instruction of his liege."
"Who is here as my guest and has even been given some fine quarters in the Red Keep, isn't that so Sam?"
This was his queue. Sam approached demurely but he felt the small vein in his neck throb at a rapid pace." They have been here for some time, your Grace."
Jon nodded at him, the stern expression in his eyes softened when they focused on him. Sam stopped when he stood at the King's right side.
"Hello Dickon. It has been some time since I last saw you. You look well."
His brother had paled and widened his stance when he swayed slightly. Sam saw him struggle not to bombard his brother with questions. He knew that Jon had ordered his Kingsguard to brief Dickon Tarly on the proper protocol when in the presence of the King.
"You are allowed to address your brother shortly, Lord Tarly. You will however have to do it in my presence."
The young Lord looked from Sam to the Targaryen King back to Sam. "I, uh, I just wanted to say that I am surprised to see you here, Sam. You have lost weight. It suits you. Why are you not at the Wall or at the uh Citadel?"
"The King had need of my services. I delayed my trip to the Citadel." Sam didn't elaborate further. Instead he started his own enquiry. "Does my father intend to pledge himself to King Aegon? Or will he ignore the summons of Lord Tyrell and turn traitor? Will he heed the summons of Lord Stannis of House Baratheon?"
"I uh, to be honest, I don't know. I left for King's Landing when Robert Baratheon first announced the tournament. There was no talk of an abdication back then."
This was the first time since they were both grown up that Sam felt truly superior to his younger brother. That made it easier to keep to the script. He spoke with renewed confidence. "Did Father not write to you? Did he by any chance summon you home but are you disobeying? Are you risking his ire in the hope that he will forgive you if you make a name for yourself by getting far in the tournament?" The elated feeling at having the upperhand for once grew even more pronounced when he saw his younger brother's guilty blush.
Davos chose that moment to intervene. "Lord Tarly, I order you to answer the question. His Grace is also interested in the answer. Did your father summon you home?" Davos' tone would have made braver man cower. Sam was astounded to see drops of sweat, caused by fear no doubt appear on his brother's forehead.
"He strongly uh advised it but I wrote back that it had been a peaceful transition and I would be fine. I only sent the raven out yesterday." His eyes widened when it finally dawned on him that his father could have called him back for a very different reason. He broke protocol when he interrupted his conversation with the King to address his brother. "Sam?"
Sam waited for the sign they had agreed upon. Jon made a show of allowing Sam to speak with a magnanimous royal hand gesture.
"Father is hedging his bets most likely, Dickon. You know what his ambitions are. Lord Stannis of House Baratheon will have promised to fulfil them. I advise you to do as the King tells you."
Jon used his kingly authority to perfection when he stiffly addressed his brother. "Lord Tarly, you will write a letter to your father and let Sam read it before you seal it and send it off. You will inform him that his two sons are currently my 'guests' in King's Landing and will both enjoy my hospitality for a while still. Write that I want to parlay with him. If he wants his heir safely back in Horn Hill he is not to send word to Stannis Baratheon nor is he to speak of this to anyone. If Stannis wants an answer to his summons, your father must stall him. If he already promised Lord Baratheon certain things, he will delay sending whatever he promised. Did you get all that?"
"Am I your prisoner?" Dickon looked helplessly between the two men.
"Only if you want to leave." Davos had taken a few steps closer to the young Lord. He used what Sam called Davos' fatherly voice when he advised Dickon. "Send the letter and participate in the tournament, Lord Tarly. But know that we will watch every step you take in King's Landing and monitor anyone you talk with. You will not be allowed to venture near the city walls. If you do not heed these restrictions, a place in the dungeons will be made ready for you. Is that clear?"
"What about Sam?" Dickon asked. "What will you do to my brother?"
Now Jon stepped forward until he stood next to Davos. "Now you rise in my esteem, Lord Tarly. Your worry about your brother is commendable but unnecessary. Your brother is part of my inner circle. Whatever your father decides, Sam will always have a place by my side and be safe, unlike you. I believe we are finished here. Wait in the hall for a moment. Sam will join you there soon. He will see to it that you can borrow some writing materials. It is my wish that you to write that letter before you leave the Red Keep."
Sam fell into a chair the moment his brother left the room. As expected, his friend was quick to come to his side.
"I'm sorry, Sam. But that was necessary. My compliments. You held yourself well. That was a great performance you just pulled off.
"That the three of us pulled off," Sam corrected. "But it took a lot out of me. I feel drained. You were very intimidating, very kingly, Jon. I never saw my brother shrink before a man that was not my father."
"I had the easier part. I was just intimidating a stranger. Help your brother write the letter, Sam. Find the right tone to persuade your father to at least hear me out before he makes a decision. Don't betray your status with me."
"I know. We went over it a few times already. Don't worry."
Jon smiled. "Then I won't. Prince Oberyn will be pleased when I tell him this part of his scheme worked flawlessly."
Interlude 36: Timely interventions
That same day
Prince Oberyn looked at Varys as they were both leaving the small council meeting. No words were spoken. Any observer would have said that both men went their separate ways, looking bored after a tiresome meeting. Nobody would have suspected that they were set to hold a secret encounter only moments later.
The Red Viper of Dorne didn't startle when the Spider entered his room by a hidden side panel that wasn't visible if you didn't know it was there. Prince Oberyn had more than once lamented that Sunspear had not been built with such handy hidden passages and tunnels. It would have made it that much easier to get away with all the mischief he had caused in his younger years. The very same moment he had entered his room, he had gone over to that wall and had unblocked the secret entrance. He sat waiting in a chair, two cups of wine at the ready on a small table.
Varys took the chair facing his co-conspirator and didn't waste any time. "They need our help even more now that he is King but they are totally ignorant of it." He took a large sip of the wine. "I needed that. This is excellent wine, Prince Oberyn."
Oberyn acknowledged the compliment to his homemade wine as well as Varys' statement with a short nod of his head. "What a tedious meeting. Only the part about young Tarly was interesting. I would like to be a fly on the wall during that audience. But when they discussed the Tyrells! Are they really that oblivious? Honour can be a dangerous thing to have if it blinds strong and capable men so thoroughly. Do they really believe that lady Olenna has no other tricks up her sleeve than raising food prices?"
Varys nodded. "The King is young and has never met the likes of her. This is one area of his preparation that has been neglected. You should perhaps educate him a little, Oberyn. He listens to you."
A smug smile appeared on the Prince's face. "That he does. Even though he thinks he came up with the idea of making Willas Tyrell the prominent member of House Tyrell on his own."
"You must grant our Grace the credit he is due though." Varys took another sip of the wine. His face clearly showed his enjoyment of the superior quality of the drink. "It was a splendid move to marry the Tyrell heir off to Myrcella Lannister. Once legitimated, she became an eligible partner for him, but one Lady Olenna would never approve of."
"Unfortunately those were not solely political motivations that drove our youthful King to this decision. His compassionate nature facilitated a couple that fancied itself in love." He snorted. "The rest was me coaching him. I might as well have written the letter to Willas Tyrell myself." He chuckled now. "House Tyrell will be forced to accept a legitimated bastard bride without a dowry!"
Varys didn't share the exhilaration of he Dornish Prince but pressed his previous point further. "Then talk to our King. Teach him more about the way the real world works. Show him how the game is played and what lies hidden behind the smiles and polite words of the nobles. He is an apt student and already has a better grasp on these things than both his uncles combined. Or are you scared that the student will outgrow the master?"
"Now you offend me, my dear co-conspirator. I would count myself lucky if I ever achieved that. I personally will make sure that our young King will be the best Sovereign this continent has ever seen in its entire history."
Varys smiled indulgently and raised his glass. "To King Aegon, long may he reign." He emptied his cup and saw Oberyn do the same.
He stared absently at the bottom of his empty chalice when he remarked, "I never thought I would see the Red Viper root for another. And certainly not for one so young. If I didn't know better, I might profess that you have a man crush."
"And what if I did? I love that boy as if he were my own son. Hells, I wish he were. But then, he has surrogate fathers enough already. He doesn't need me." Oberyn refilled both their cups and drank deeply once more.
"I'm merely an adviser that he trusts, but you, you are his friend, Oberyn. He cares genuinely for you. He esteems you and heeds your counsel. You could do worse."
"I know. I know." Prince Oberyn had a faraway look on his face. For a moment he looked happy but then a frown appeared on his forehead. "I just hope my stupid brother doesn't endanger my status at Court and consequently my relationship with Aegon."
"You have contingencies in place." Varys reminded the Prince in an attempt to lift his mood. "And King Aegon would grant you full immunity from the happenings in Dorne. He did not befriend you to gain the alliance of Dorne. Besides, you have proven your usefulness ten times over."
Oberyn righted himself in his chair with renewed purpose. "Then let's be useful once more. How can we thwart lady Olenna this time?"
"Well, in the first place, we need to keep doing what we have been doing ever since she came to court with her granddaughter. I have little birds shadowing Lady Margaery day and night."
"I still can't believe you caught her trying to sneak into King Robert's bedroom when they learned he was recovering, only to attempt the same thing with our young King barely a sennight later." Prince Oberyn shook his head.
"And this time I didn't send a servant on a collision course with her. Last night, I had my little birds warn the guards and tellthem to hide around the corner and let Lady Margaery enter his bedroom." Varys smiled remembering the detailed account of one of his most promising little birds.
"And she almost got into bed with Princess Daenerys. That must have come as a shock to her." Prince Oberyn had heard a short version of last night's events already.
"Not to mention the fact that she was almost arrested by the guard that followed her in immediately after to make sure that our Princess would come to no harm. Lady Margaery however was quick to come up with an excuse. She is cunning, I grant her that."
"She only got away with it because you told the guards to let her go and not shame the young maiden. I know it has not been a full day since, but no rumours are being whispered for as far as I know. You got them all to keep silent." Prince Oberyn's tone clearly indicated he meant to compliment an extraordinary achievement.
Varys nodded his head in acknowledgement and continued his tale. "My little bird that followed her all the way to her own room at the other side of the Red Keep reported that she stumbled and almost ran the entire way, looking pale and panicked."
"She must have wondered what the Princess was doing in the King's chambers." Prince Oberyn clearly enjoyed picturing the event.
"My little spy told me he heard her mutter under her breath: 'Another failure. How in the Seven Hells do I explain this to Grandma? Will she even believe me or punish me again for my perceived unwillingness to persevere.' If Lady Margaery doesn't connect the dots, I am sure her grandmother will. She will realise that the King is honour bound to marry Princess Daenerys now, even if nothing happened between our royal couple."
Prince Oberyn frowned. "Not if the Princess dies before the wedding. Or she can always make the King a young widower in the moons to come before an heir is born. I was lucky that that old fool of a Maester came to me for an ingredient he was missing to brew a suspicious potion. Your little birds were able to detect the rest of the plot soon after. The Tyrell servant that was to administer the poison to the Princess' bedtime drink has gone missing. Yet another dilemma to solve for the Queen of Thornes."
"She won't care for the servant. Only for the fact that Princess Daenerys is still healthy and set to marry the King soon." Varys voiced the obvious out loud.
Oberyn nodded. "And we must plan for all eventualities. Not only the health of the Princess is in danger. They can create chaos by eliminating the King as well. I will order Davos to have every single thing the King or the Princess eat or drink tested first. Have your little birds monitor everyone Lady Olenna speaks to. Do not neglect a single source, however unimportant it may seem. At the Citadel I heard a tale of a man who was killed by a poisonous powder they had sprinkled on his clothing. We must remain vigilant."
"And we will. I already made more inroads in the Tyrell household. As of today, I will receive a copy of each message that leaves the Keep sent by House Tyrell for whatever destination. Do you still have your men stationed at the docks to monitor the Tyrell ships?"
"Of course. The Queen of Thornes won't be able to make a move without us knowing. I have loyal men stationed throughout the city." Oberyn was quick to affirm.
"Then the only thing you still need to do is talk to our King."
Prince Oberyn rolled his eyes at the Spider's insistence. "And I will. But it will be a delicate process. I will do it gradually."
"Don't underestimate his Grace, Oberyn. Tell him about lady Margaery. It is better that he knows. He might reconsider consenting to betroth her to his cousin. You told me how close the King is with Robb Stark. Not only would his cousin suffer such a wife, Lady Margaery would become something akin to a good-sister to his Grace."
Oberyn looked thoughtful at first but then a devious smile lit up his face. "That would enrage our highness the Queen of Thornes even more. We must make sure that we have her safely entangled in our web of spies first. Lady Olenna of House Tyrell might become even more desperate and unpredictable when cornered."
Both men savoured their drinks, and mulled over the issue. Oberyn was the first to break the contemplative silence. "What if Lady Margaery is an innocent victim in all this? It must not be ideal to grow up under the scrutiny of the Queen of Thornes. Perhaps she is a nice girl in an impossible situation. What do the servants say of her behaviour towards them? Could it be that she is a decent prospective bride after all? One we need to save from a vicious grandmother?"
"I heard nothing unkind but I didn't specifically look into that. I'll do so at once. If you are willing to give her the benefit of the doubt then I am certain that our King will do the same. I'll see that I come prepared when he puts that question before me."
"We need to cover all our bases. Perhaps if we can neutralise the Queen of Thornes, there may be hope for House Tyrell yet. I am not a fan of the alternative. House Tarly has lost my esteem ever since I heard how the great Lord treats his eldest son. I realise that our King has progressive ideas and is a firm believer that women can wield power but we need to find a way to take Lady Olenna's power away. A way that is acceptable to Aegon."
"Let's take it one step at the time. I'd be inclined to say we have been successfully undermining her every step of the way already. We have seen to it that her son has 'accidentally' stumbled on several schemes she was putting in motion. All things she would have preferred to keep a secret from him and she has been obliged to abort most of them. My little birds tell me the servants are no longer permitted to do her bidding without question any longer. If she does things out of the ordinary they have standing orders to inform her son. I think she has shamed Mace Tyrell in public one time too many. Our young King certainly hasn't minced his words when they last spoke. We are doing all we can, Oberyn. I'd say we are well underway to dethrone her as acting head of House Tyrell."
Oberyn gave him a small smile. "Then let's drink to that and put an end this meeting. It is time I did something fun for a change. To King Aegon!"
"Long may he reign!" Varys responded automatically and both men sipped from the strong wine and fell silent.
*