We lost.
Not completely.
But enough.
The rider returned from Maidenpool six days later.
He had killed one horse getting back to King's Landing.
That told me the answer before he spoke.
Tywin received him in the Tower of the Hand. I stood beside Father, while Rhaegar had been ordered back to his lessons by Queen Rhaella.
For once, being heir to Casterly Rock had advantages over being Crown Prince.
The rider dropped to one knee.
"My lord."
"The family?"
"We found the house."
I waited.
"The wife was alive."
Was.
Past tense.
I hated past tense.
"And the children?"
"One."
My stomach tightened.
"Which one?"
"The girl. Ellyn."
Othmar had two children.
Jon.
Ellyn.
"What happened?"
The rider swallowed.
"Someone reached them before us."
Tywin's face didn't move.
"When?"
"Perhaps half a day."
Half a day.
Six hours.
Maybe less.
That was all.
"Who is alive?" I asked.
"Ellyn. Eight years old."
"And Marya?"
"Dead."
"Jon?"
The rider hesitated.
"Missing."
Not dead.
Missing.
Important distinction.
"How did Marya die?"
"Throat cut."
"House searched?"
"Yes."
"Anything stolen?"
"We couldn't determine."
"Neighbors?"
"A wagon was seen leaving before dawn. Two men. Possibly three."
"Direction?"
"North."
"Toward?"
"Could be Crackclaw Point. Could be the kingsroad."
Too many roads.
Not enough men.
I looked at Tywin.
"Where is Ellyn?"
"With our riders. They should arrive tomorrow."
"Good."
Tywin dismissed the man.
I waited until the door closed.
Then punched the table.
Pain shot through my hand.
Father looked at me.
"Finished?"
"No."
"Then use the other hand."
I stared at him.
He stared back.
I almost laughed.
Almost.
"They knew."
"Yes."
"We didn't send ravens."
"No."
"We used trusted men."
"Yes."
"Then how?"
Tywin walked toward the map.
"That is the question."
I followed.
Our riders had left King's Landing immediately.
Broken Dragon had still arrived first.
Maybe they'd already been watching the family.
That was possible.
But the timing—
Othmar talked.
Hours later, his family was attacked.
Coincidence?
No.
"Someone knew he was captured."
"Likely."
"Someone knew he talked."
"Likely."
"Inside the Red Keep?"
"Perhaps."
I hated when he did that.
"You're doing my thing."
"What thing?"
"Saying perhaps when you clearly think yes."
Tywin looked at me.
"I was doing it before you were born."
Fair.
I looked at the map again.
"How many people knew we had Othmar?"
"Too many."
"How many knew about his family?"
"Fewer."
"Who?"
"You. Me. Rhaegar. Marq Darry. Four guards. The men I sent."
"Barristan?"
"No."
That surprised me.
"Why?"
"He serves the king."
Not us.
Important distinction.
"Could one of the guards—"
"Already being investigated."
"Marq?"
"Also."
"Rhaegar?"
Tywin looked at me.
I raised my hands.
"I know. But if we're actually doing this properly, everyone goes on the board."
"Good."
I didn't like how quickly he agreed.
"Rhaegar didn't betray us."
"Probably not."
"Father."
"Your word."
I sighed.
"Probably not."
Better.
Emotion wasn't evidence.
Even when the person was my friend.
"What about me?"
Tywin looked at me.
"You?"
"I'm on the list."
"You did not betray yourself."
"No. But someone could be listening to me."
That interested him.
I thought about every room I'd used.
Every servant.
Every corridor.
Then something clicked.
"Othmar."
"What?"
"He knew they would kill his family."
"Yes."
"Why?"
Tywin understood.
"Procedure."
Exactly.
This wasn't necessarily a leak.
It could be automatic.
If an agent disappeared, his family became a liability.
The network didn't need to know he'd talked.
It only needed to know he hadn't returned.
I felt some relief.
Then immediately hated myself for feeling relieved.
A woman was dead.
A boy was missing.
"Tell Othmar."
Tywin's expression changed.
"Why?"
"Because lying will make it worse."
"He may become useless."
"He'll find out eventually."
"Perhaps."
"If we hide it and he learns we hid it, he'll never trust us."
Tywin studied me.
"You intend to earn the trust of a spy who helped arrange your poisoning."
"I intend to make him useful."
That earned the faintest approval.
"Tell him."
Othmar knew before I finished.
I saw it in his face.
"No."
I sat across from him.
His restraints were gone now.
The door remained guarded.
"Marya is dead."
"No."
"Ellyn is alive."
He stared at me.
"Jon is missing."
His face collapsed.
Not dramatically.
That would have been easier.
He simply stopped looking like the man we'd captured.
His shoulders folded inward.
His eyes lost focus.
For a while, there was nothing clever to say.
So I didn't say anything.
Eventually:
"How?"
"Men reached Maidenpool before ours."
"You promised."
"I said we'd try."
"You promised!"
He lunged.
The guard stepped forward.
I raised my hand.
Othmar stopped inches from me.
He could have hit me.
He didn't.
"You killed her."
"No."
"You made me talk."
"Yes."
"And they killed her."
"Yes."
I forced myself not to hide from that.
My decision had consequences.
That didn't mean the decision had been wrong.
It meant consequences were real.
"I thought reaching them first was possible."
"You were wrong."
"Yes."
He stared at me.
I didn't defend myself.
That seemed to confuse him.
Adults rarely admitted mistakes to children.
Lords probably did it even less.
"Why is Ellyn alive?" he asked.
"We don't know."
"Where is she?"
"Coming here."
"No."
"Othmar—"
"Not here."
Fear returned.
Strong.
"Why?"
"They have people here."
"Who?"
"I don't know."
"Then help me find them."
He laughed bitterly.
"You still want information."
"Yes."
"After my wife dies."
"Especially now."
His eyes hardened.
I leaned forward.
"Someone murdered Marya and took your son."
"You think I don't know that?"
"I think you're angry at me because I'm in front of you."
That almost earned me a punch.
Good.
Anger was movement.
Movement could become something useful.
"The people you worked for killed her."
"I know."
"Then tell me how they operate."
Silence.
"Not names. Systems."
That caught him.
"How are messages moved?"
Nothing.
"How do agents identify one another?"
Still nothing.
"What happens when someone disappears?"
His eyes changed.
There.
I had it.
"You already knew."
He looked away.
"You knew what they'd do if you vanished."
"Yes."
"Then why didn't you tell us sooner?"
He laughed.
"Because I thought they were safe."
"Why?"
"They weren't supposed to know where my family was."
I froze.
"What?"
Othmar looked at me.
"I moved them three years ago."
Now we had something.
"Who knew?"
"No one."
"Someone did."
"Yes."
"How?"
He stared at the floor.
Then whispered:
"Letters."
I leaned closer.
"What letters?"
"To Marya."
"You wrote to her?"
"Once every moon."
"Through the network?"
"No."
That would have been stupid.
"How?"
"Ordinary couriers."
I understood.
Someone was intercepting his personal letters.
The network built to intercept messages was still doing exactly that.
Even to its own people.
Nobody trusted anybody.
"They read your letters."
"Must have."
"Did you use your name?"
"No."
"Code?"
"Yes."
"What?"
He hesitated.
Then:
"I called her my sparrow."
Simple.
Personal.
"And the children?"
"Cubs."
I almost smiled at that.
Didn't.
"Where did you send them from?"
"Different places."
"Where did they arrive?"
"An innkeeper in Maidenpool held them."
There.
A fixed point.
"Name?"
"Harbert."
I stood.
Othmar looked up.
"What are you doing?"
"Finding out who collects the letters before Harbert does."
His eyes widened.
"How?"
I paused.
Then smiled.
"We send another."
The letter was short.
Othmar wrote it himself.
My sparrow,
The lion has me. The cubs must move. Go where we first met. I will follow.
No names.
No location.
Perfect.
Anyone reading it would need existing knowledge to act.
We sent three copies.
That was my idea.
One through the normal royal post.
One through a merchant courier.
One carried by a Lannister rider.
Each had one tiny difference.
A word.
Royal post:
Go where we first met.
Merchant:
Return where we first met.
Lannister:
Ride where we first met.
Tywin read them.
"Why?"
"If someone acts on the letter, we find out which route they read."
"Good."
Rhaegar, who had returned after escaping whatever lesson he'd been sentenced to, grinned.
"You copied ravens."
"What?"
"Send several and see which arrives."
"That's not—"
"It is."
I considered it.
"Fine."
Tywin looked between us.
"I am surrounded by children."
"You summoned one of us."
"I regret it."
Ellyn arrived the next morning.
Eight years old.
Small.
Brown hair.
She didn't cry.
That worried me.
Children should cry when their mothers died.
She stared at everyone.
At the guards.
At Tywin.
At me.
Especially me.
I crouched so we were closer in height.
"I'm Tycen."
"I know."
Of course she did.
"Your father is alive."
Nothing.
"Do you want to see him?"
That finally got a reaction.
"Is he hurt?"
"His shoulder."
"Did you hurt him?"
I could have lied.
"Yes."
She slapped me.
Hard.
The room froze.
One guard actually reached for his sword.
Tywin looked at him.
The guard's hand disappeared.
I touched my cheek.
Ellyn stared defiantly.
"Fair."
Tywin's eyebrow moved.
"Tycen."
"What?"
"She struck the heir to Casterly Rock."
"She's eight."
"That has not traditionally been considered a defense."
Ellyn looked suddenly terrified.
I stood between her and Father.
"She stays with me."
Tywin stared.
"What?"
"If there's a spy here, she's safer near me."
"That logic is questionable."
"Also, Othmar trusts nobody."
"He does not trust you."
"He trusts me more than you."
Tywin actually looked offended.
Small victories.
Rhaegar crouched beside Ellyn.
"I'm Rhaegar."
She stared at his hair.
"You're the prince."
"Unfortunately."
I smiled.
He'd stolen that from me.
Ellyn looked between us.
"Are you going to kill my father?"
"No," I said.
Rhaegar answered at the same time.
"No."
She looked at Tywin.
"And him?"
Tywin's face was unreadable.
"No."
She seemed to believe him more than us.
Understandable.
Tywin rarely wasted lies on children.
Othmar broke when he saw her.
Not from torture.
Not from threats.
His daughter ran into his arms and he simply broke.
I left them alone.
That was another lesson.
Information mattered.
So did knowing when not to take it.
Later, Othmar asked for me.
He looked older.
"She said you protected her."
"Our men did."
"She said you let her hit you."
"That was less enjoyable."
He almost smiled.
Then:
"I'll tell you everything I know."
There it was.
Not because we'd broken his fingers.
Because we'd saved something he cared about.
Tywin would call it leverage.
Joanna might have called it kindness.
Maybe it was both.
I no longer thought those things had to be opposites.
Othmar sat.
"The Broken Dragon isn't its real name."
"What is?"
"It doesn't have one."
"Then the tokens?"
"Recognition."
"Why a broken dragon?"
He hesitated.
"Because Aerys broke it."
That surprised me.
"Explain."
"The network was created early in his reign. He wanted eyes independent of your father."
That matched our theory.
"He feared Tywin's influence?"
"Not then. Not exactly. He wanted something that belonged only to him."
That sounded like Aerys.
"Who built it?"
"I don't know his true name."
"Try."
"We called him the Keeper."
Of course.
There was always a dramatic title.
"What did the Keeper do?"
"Collected messages. Bought servants. Paid dockworkers. Watched ravens. Learned which lord slept with which woman and which merchant owed which debt."
Information.
Power.
"What changed?"
"Aerys."
Othmar leaned back.
"At first he listened. Then he wanted information that proved what he already believed."
That sounded familiar.
"So the Keeper stopped giving him everything."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because information became executions."
Rhaegar, standing near the wall, went quiet.
"And then?"
"The network split."
There.
"The broken dragon."
Othmar nodded.
"Some remained loyal to Aerys. Some to the Keeper. Some sold information to whoever paid."
"Which were you?"
"The Keeper."
"Who is he?"
"I don't know."
I stared.
"You worked for him for years."
"I received instructions through others."
"Convenient."
"True."
"How many layers?"
"Usually three."
Annoying.
Smart.
"Why follow Rhaegar?"
Othmar looked toward him.
"Because the Keeper believed the prince would become more important than the king."
Rhaegar's expression changed.
"Why?"
"You're the heir."
Simple.
Not prophecy.
Good.
"Why me?" I asked.
Othmar looked at Tywin.
Then back to me.
"Because you're his heir."
I frowned.
"That's all?"
"No."
Of course not.
"Then what?"
"The Keeper ordered Casterly Rock watched before you were born."
My stomach tightened.
"Why?"
"Your father."
Tywin's face hardened.
"You were the Hand. Richest lord in Westeros. Second most powerful man in the realm."
That made sense.
Too much sense.
The conspiracy was becoming less mystical with every answer.
Good.
Then Othmar continued.
"But after you were born, the orders changed."
There it was.
"How?"
"We stopped watching Casterly Rock."
He looked at me.
"We watched you."
"Why?"
"I don't know."
"Who gave the order?"
"The Keeper."
"Did it mention Joanna?"
Silence.
"Othmar."
"Once."
Tywin stepped closer.
"What did it say?"
Othmar swallowed.
"I never saw the original."
"What did it say?"
"That the boy must be observed. Not harmed."
A strange feeling moved through me.
"Then why poison me?"
"I told you. The network split."
"Who ordered it?"
"I don't know."
"Was it the Keeper?"
"No."
Immediate.
Certain.
"How do you know?"
Othmar looked genuinely afraid.
"Because if the Keeper wanted you dead, you'd be dead."
The room went silent.
I didn't particularly enjoy that sentence.
Rhaegar stepped forward.
"Then someone inside the network is fighting him."
"Yes."
"Who?"
"I don't know."
I rubbed my forehead.
Layers.
Always layers.
"Fine. What does the Keeper want with me?"
Othmar stared.
Then gave the answer I least wanted.
"To see what you become."
Our trap produced a result that evening.
A rider arrived.
Not ours.
One of Tywin's men entered the solar carrying three pieces of parchment.
"My lord."
"Which route?" I asked.
"The merchant courier."
My heartbeat quickened.
The letter using return had been intercepted.
"How do you know?"
"The courier was followed outside King's Landing."
"By whom?"
"A man. We followed him."
"And?"
"He met another man."
"Then?"
"That man rode north."
"Did you follow?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
The guard placed a map on the table.
His finger landed on a small village north of the city.
"We have men watching."
Tywin looked at me.
"What would you do?"
Another test.
I studied the map.
First instinct:
Take them.
Wrong.
Harys.
Don't reuse the same trick.
We had followed intermediaries before.
The network expected pursuit.
"They know."
Tywin nodded slightly.
Rhaegar frowned.
"Know what?"
"That we're following."
"How?"
"Because that's what we did last time."
I looked at the map.
"They'll expect us to go to the village."
"So we don't?" Rhaegar asked.
"No."
I thought about the three letters.
One intercepted.
Two not.
The enemy knew one route.
Maybe they were watching others.
Maybe—
"Where did our Lannister rider go?"
Tywin's expression changed.
"He is still traveling."
"Recall him."
"Why?"
"The merchant letter is bait."
Rhaegar understood.
"They want us watching the village."
"While something happens somewhere else."
Tywin was already moving.
"Where?"
I looked at Othmar.
Family.
Information.
Leverage.
Then it hit me.
"Ellyn."
We ran.
Her room was empty.
The guard outside was unconscious.
Alive.
Barely.
The window stood open.
My stomach dropped.
"No."
Rhaegar reached it first.
Rope.
Down the wall.
They'd come inside the Tower.
Inside Tywin's own quarters.
I felt anger rise.
Controlled it.
Think.
Why take Ellyn?
Leverage over Othmar.
Obvious.
Too obvious.
Unless—
I ran to Othmar's cell.
Empty.
Door unlocked.
No blood.
No struggle.
Tywin arrived behind me.
His face was terrifying.
"How?"
I looked inside.
On the bed lay a broken-dragon token.
And beneath it, a note.
This one was addressed to me.
You learn quickly.
So must we.
Rhaegar read over my shoulder.
"They took both?"
I looked around the cell.
No.
Something was wrong.
The door had been unlocked.
Othmar hadn't been dragged.
No blood.
No struggle.
And his daughter had just been returned to him.
I remembered his face when he held her.
His promise.
I'll tell you everything I know.
Maybe that had been true.
Maybe not.
"Search the castle," Tywin ordered.
"No."
He turned.
"They're gone."
"You don't know that."
"I think Othmar left willingly."
Rhaegar stared.
"Why?"
I held up the note.
"They didn't rescue him."
I looked at the broken dragon.
"He called them."
Silence.
Then the full shape of it appeared.
Othmar had given us enough truth to earn trust.
The old network.
Aerys.
The Keeper.
Probably all real.
Truth was better bait than lies.
He had let us save Ellyn.
Then used our protection to bring her directly to him.
Inside the Tower of the Hand.
And we'd done it willingly.
I laughed once.
Tywin looked at me as though I'd lost my mind.
"He beat me."
"This amuses you?"
"No."
I looked at the open cell.
"But I understand how."
That mattered.
Othmar hadn't outsmarted us with prophecy.
Or magic.
Or some impossible conspiracy.
He had understood what I wanted.
I wanted to believe saving his daughter had changed him.
I wanted kindness to produce loyalty.
So he'd given me exactly that story.
Tywin had warned me.
Understanding what someone wanted did not mean controlling what they did.
The lesson hurt more when I lost.
Rhaegar looked toward the note.
"What now?"
I thought about chasing.
Roads.
Villages.
False trails.
That was what they expected.
So no.
"We don't follow them."
Tywin watched me.
"Why?"
"Because that's what they want."
I walked toward the window.
King's Landing spread beneath us.
Thousands of roofs.
Thousands of people.
Somewhere among them, an old spy network was watching.
But something had changed.
They had revealed themselves to retrieve Othmar.
They had taken risks.
Used people inside the Tower.
Left messages.
Adapted to me.
Which meant I had forced them to move.
And movement left traces.
"We find the guard who opened that door."
Tywin's eyes sharpened.
"Then the person who paid him."
"And then?"
I looked at the broken dragon in my hand.
"Then we stop chasing the Keeper."
Rhaegar frowned.
"What do we do instead?"
I smiled.
"We make him come to us."