"Ser Selmy." Aegor had shared a moonlit conversation with the Knight before, so when he saw him appear, he greeted him first.
Eddard nodded to the newcomer as well. "Barristan, is everything settled?"
…
Yesterday, they had received word that Cersei was plotting rebellion, prompting Eddard and Robert to act swiftly against the Lannisters. It was a matter of utmost urgency. Since they couldn't determine which nobles and officials inside the Red Keep were loyal to which side, Eddard chose the most direct and efficient method to root out threats, he ordered that all residents of the Red Keep, along with their servants, be confined to their quarters before dawn and prohibited from leaving throughout the day.
When the chaos passed, they would sort everything out. Those found innocent would be released. Those discovered to have Lannister ties or colluded with the Queen's family would be arrested or dismissed. The Seven Kingdoms could not afford more turmoil, and this strike against the Queen's faction had to be quick and decisive.
The man tasked with carrying out this operation was Barristan Selmy, and the soldiers came from the Stormlands contingent within the Red Keep, mobilized under the king's name. This not only prevented any of the Queen's allies from aiding her in rebellion or escape, but also blocked Renly Baratheon from using the upheaval to seize the Iron Throne. A calculated double victory.
…
"It's settled." Barristan approached Eddard and whispered with concern, "But Robert refused to heed my advice and insisted on confronting the Queen personally, to give her a final chance to confess. When I returned after carrying out your orders, he had already gone. I suspect he's raising hell in Prince Joffrey's chambers now."
"Confess her crimes? Didn't I tell you we had to wait until the City Watch entered the Red Keep before making a move? Robert's a fool, and he insists on treating others like fools too!" Eddard's voice rose in anger. "Did he take everyone with him?"
...
...
"He brought them all." Barristan replied. "But never mind that. What's happening here? When does the garrison arrive?"
"As long as he brought them, it's fine. The garrison should be here soon." Eddard nodded toward the cage on the cart. "Look, Mormont sent me something interesting."
As the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard turned his eyes toward the cart, Aegor suddenly broke out in a cold sweat. Jaqen had been sent to the Black Cells months ago after being caught red-handed by Barristan in the royal library. How could he have been so careless as to bring the Faceless Man back into the Red Keep—and let him run into Barristan again?
"A madman?" Barristan glanced at the cage, and a few more lines etched themselves onto his already wrinkled brow. "How is that interesting?"
"Take a closer look."
The old knight turned back. Fortunately, Jaqen had returned the severed hand to Eddard's guards in time. His appearance and clothing had changed significantly, and he now blended in among the black-cloaked brothers, not drawing Barristan's attention.
Barristan looked at the severed arm, then back at the "man" in the cage. At last, he noticed something strange. The "madman" inside was missing an arm, but there was no blood from the wound. Even now, he was hurling himself violently against the bars, as if trying to attack. That alone was unsettling, but the severed hand's continuous twitching and grasping was downright unnatural.
"What in the Seven Hells is that?" The old knight's hand drifted toward his sword hilt by instinct.
"It doesn't matter what it is," Eddard said grimly. "What matters is that Mormont told me there are tens of thousands of them north of the Wall. They're everywhere."
"This..." Surprise flickered across Barristan's face. He quickly grasped the implications. As a northerner, Eddard likely saw this threat as equal in importance to the Lannister situation. "But my lord, let the Night's Watch wait a little longer. The Wall isn't going to fall today. Let's finish this matter with the Queen first, then discuss how to deal with this damn thing."
"Of course I know the gravity of it, but I've already deployed all my guards to secure the gates of the Red Keep. If I run off to Cersei now and that woman loses her mind, wouldn't that give her a chance to assassinate the King and the Hand?" Eddard frowned and shook his head. "Ser Alliser, Aegor, one of you, tell me more... about the White Walkers. Besides the different ways to kill them, how do they differ from wights?"
Aegor finally had a chance to speak. He stepped forward and began explaining the differences between the Cold God's elite minions and their cannon fodder.
Barristan stood still for a few seconds. He understood that Eddard would be safer waiting for the garrison. But as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, his duty was to remain by the king's side. Having realized this, he turned and walked toward Maegor's Holdfast.
At that moment, the sound of soldiers marching in unison echoed from the main gate of the Red Keep. Moments later, Jory Cassel appeared. The newly appointed acting commander of the garrison wore a golden cloak to distinguish himself for his subordinates. He led a large detachment of goldcloaks, arriving breathless from the gate. The golden tide halted in front of Eddard.
"Lord Stark, as you commanded, I brought most of the men from the Iron Gate, Aegon's High Hill, and the Riverside Gate garrisons. Including myself, we number 346."
The captains of the three garrisons stepped forward. "Lord Eddard, the garrison awaits your orders."
"Excellent, just in time." In truth, they had arrived much later than Eddard expected. But the delay was not their fault. If not for that bastard Janos Slynt's meddling the previous night, the goldcloaks would have arrived far sooner. Eddard had planned to deal with him after the Lannisters... In hindsight, it had been a grave mistake. He'd settle that score with Slynt later. "Friends of the Night's Watch, please wait here a little longer. I have other business to attend to."
The members of the wight escort team, unaware of the full situation, saw Eddard rallying the City Watch and thought he might be staging a coup. Not daring to object, they nodded and watched as the Hand of the King and the goldcloaks marched toward Maegor's Holdfast.
---
At the moment the sword shattered, Jaime leaned backward to avoid the direct blow of the warhammer. At last, with nowhere left to retreat, he slumped to the floor, his back pressed against the wall.
If this had been a tourney field, he might have rolled away, grabbed another weapon, and continued fighting. But this was no arena. He was trapped in a bedroom, facing Robert in full armor and wielding a long-handled hammer. The outcome was already decided.
(He lost. He lost because he kept hesitating in a battle that demanded full concentration. He lost because he tried to capture Robert alive, when he should have known better. Maybe, deep down, he lost because of some foolish sense of honor. In the face of the king he once swore to protect, he could never give it his all.)
"Hah... Kingslayer, looks like your sword has more honor than you. It knew better than to fight its king," Robert panted. This fight had taken everything out of him, but he grinned smugly as he stepped toward Jaime. "You didn't fight with your full strength, but a trial is a trial. No second chances. I, Robert I of House Baratheon, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Ruler of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, hereby sentence you to death!"
He was smiling, but his teeth were clenched. Having passed judgment, he slowly raised his hammer for the final blow.
Though he hadn't sustained any fatal injuries, Jaime had only half a sword left, and his back was to the wall. He had no way to escape. Nor did he try. He simply closed his eyes.
"No—"
"Your Grace, beware!"
Cersei's scream, the cries of the Kingsguard, and the sound of glass shattering came in unison. The killing blow never came. Instead, Robert let out a grunt of annoyance. Jaime opened his eyes and saw the king turned around, his back armor soaked and the floor around him littered with powder and broken glass—Cersei had hit him with a bottle of water at the last second.
A drop of liquid had splashed on Jaime's face, and he suddenly snapped back to his senses. What was he doing—closing his eyes and waiting to die? Was that something Jaime Lannister would do?
He woke as if from a dream, shaking off the whispering doubts in his mind. Looking back on the fight, it felt like he'd been possessed. He hadn't been fully himself, as if some unseen force had clouded his thoughts and pushed him into flawed decisions.
This sensation was familiar. Months ago, when he and Cersei had fought in Winterfell, startling the Stark children, he had felt the same trance. That time, it nearly exposed their affair. This time, it had nearly gotten him killed.
Before he could process any of it further, Robert turned and seized Cersei by the throat with his left hand. Cersei, who had somehow found a pair of scissors, was lifted off the floor, her legs dangling. "Woman, you truly don't know your place! In the name of the king, I strip you of your title and sentence you to death!"
(Robert, you idiot, couldn't you kill me first and then deal with Cersei?) Jaime had been ready to accept death a moment ago, but he couldn't stand by and watch his lover be harmed. He stopped thinking, tossed aside the broken sword, drew the dagger from his waist, and, despite the pain, pushed off from the wall and lunged at Robert.
(To be continued.)
***
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