Gregor laughed and said, "Congratulations, congratulations, old man Buzz! From now on, we're family."
Buzz was full of questions. He was just an ordinary commoner with no particular skills, a native of King's Landing. Why had the Mountain, Gregor Clegane, come all the way to his home to arrange a marriage alliance?
It was strange. Completely unreasonable.
He glanced at Tobho Mott and Gendry. Tobho was tall, powerfully built, and imposing. Gendry, too, had a muscular frame. One look at his face and you could tell he was a fearless youth. Yet both of them, like him, seemed to be coerced into this situation by the Mountain.
"Ser Gregor, we're just commoners. My granddaughter Esther is nothing special. She's not worthy of such, "
Gregor didn't bother listening to the old man's rambling. He cut him off coldly, barking, "We're leaving. Back to the Westerlands."
He took the lead. A mounted soldier climbed onto a purchased carriage. With a crack of the whip, the horses neighed and the cart began to move, following behind the Mountain. Polliver Clegane rode beside the cart, and nine other fierce, wolfish cavalrymen rode in the rear, surrounding the master blacksmith Tobho Mott and his apprentice Gendry.
The group sped down the Goldroad, traveling by day and resting by night, heading straight back to the Clegane lands in the Westerlands.
...
Red Keep, King's Landing – The Throne Room
On the famed Iron Throne sat King Robert's younger brother, Renly Baratheon.
Renly Baratheon was born in the year 278 AC, and is now twenty-one years old. He was young and handsome, with dazzling blue eyes and glossy black hair that fell to his shoulders. His warm smile and gentle words made him very likable, though his older brother Stannis always thought he was too frivolous and lacking in seriousness.
Had master blacksmith Tobho Mott been here, he would surely have been shocked by how much his apprentice Gendry resembled Renly Baratheon, the same eyes, forehead, lips, and face shape. The only differences were the hair and temperament: one had cropped hair and a stubborn, brash demeanor; the other had flowing locks and an air of elegance and nobility.
King Robert Baratheon had led a procession of over a hundred courtiers and Queen Cersei northward to Winterfell. In his absence, he had left his youngest brother Renly in charge of the capital. This decision infuriated their middle brother, Stannis Baratheon, who promptly left King's Landing and returned to his seat: the island of Dragonstone in Blackwater Bay.
Renly was the Master of Laws, while his brother Stannis served as Master of Ships. When Stannis departed, Renly made only a perfunctory effort to ask him to stay. But once Stannis made up his mind, no one, save Robert himself, could ever change it.
And so Stannis left without even saying goodbye to Renly.
Renly, ever the optimist, wasn't bothered in the slightest.
Even with the Master of Ships absent, the Iron Throne's daily councils continued uninterrupted.
Beneath the throne, all the other key members of the Small Council remained: Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, the fearless Ser Barristan Selmy; Master of Whisperers, the Spider Varys, whose shiny bald head gleamed just as it did when King Robert was present; and the Master of Coin, Petyr "Littlefinger" Baelish, whose face had been horrifically swollen two days ago. Now the swelling had subsided, though the right corner of his mouth still bore a faint bruise, according to him, the result of a drunken night involving a sadomasochistic game with a prostitute. Then there was Grand Maester Pycelle, who had served the realm for decades.
Pycelle was born in 216 AC and was now eighty-two years old. His bald scalp was dotted with dark liver spots, and what little hair remained on the sides and back of his head had turned completely white, hanging long and limp. His maester's chain was forged from twenty-four different metals, signifying his expertise in twenty-four maesterly disciplines. The heavy chain hung from his neck down to his chest.
Pycelle took great pride in his long, snowy-white beard, which he considered the symbol of his honor and dignity.
He had entered the royal court at age forty-two and had since served four kings: Aegon V, Jaehaerys II, Aerys II, and Robert I. Among all the noble houses, he held House Lannister in the highest esteem, and remained a loyal servant to the Westerlands and to Tywin Lannister.
As per the law, any Small Council meeting attended by at least three councilors was considered legally valid. This was another reason Renly wasn't the least bit concerned about Stannis leaving.
Robert loved Renly dearly, and granted him favor in all things. As the youngest Baratheon brother, Renly was made Lord of Storm's End. But by rights of birth and tradition, that title should have belonged to Stannis. Yet Robert, disliking Stannis's cold and harsh demeanor, used his kingly authority to grant the fertile and bountiful Storm's End to Renly, while awarding the bleak and isolated Dragonstone to Stannis.
Stannis had long endured unfair treatment from Robert. This time was no different. As the elder brother, Stannis should have been appointed Regent in Robert's absence. But once again, it wasn't him. Robert gave that honor to Renly.
Though Renly didn't enjoy sitting on the Iron Throne, the symbol of supreme power over the Seven Kingdoms, he still had to do it.
The Iron Throne was cold, hard, and uncomfortable. Forged nearly three hundred years ago by Aegon the Conqueror, it had never been meant to provide comfort.
In the first year of his reign, King Aegon had commanded his dragon Balerion the Black Dread to melt down a thousand swords surrendered by his enemies. It took fifty-nine days to forge the throne.
The entire seat was covered in jagged edges and twisted blades. The backrest bristled with sharp points, making it impossible to lean back. A single careless movement could cut your hands or body. Aegon had designed it that way on purpose, to remind all future kings that the throne was hard-won, that ruling was no easy task, and that they must govern with diligence and care.
The last Targaryen king, Aerys II, known as the Mad King, was often wounded by the throne, thanks to his volatile temper. Some said the Iron Throne had even claimed the lives of several kings. Maegor I, for example, was said to have died by falling on one of the throne's protruding blades. Though others whispered he'd been pushed from behind.
Renly didn't enjoy the throne, but he still had to sit on it.
"My lords." he began, "I've received word that King Robert and Queen Cersei have successfully crossed the hundreds of miles of marshes known as the Neck. They're expected to reach Winterfell in ten days."
Sparse applause echoed through the near-empty hall.
Most of the court had accompanied the king, including Queen Cersei's two brothers: Jaime Lannister and the infamous Tyrion Lannister, the Imp. The throne room now felt desolate, with only a handful of courtiers remaining.
The day's business was the usual array of boring and trivial affairs, of no interest to Renly whatsoever. Just as he began to visibly display his boredom and fatigue, the Master of Whispers, Varys, spoke.
"Lord Renly, my lords, there have been two serious incidents recently in Flea Bottom. One was on the street where brown stew is sold, a mercenary from the Brave Companions was killed. The other occurred in the underground fighting pits, an even more violent event, with several dead and over twenty wounded."
"Do we know who did it? Have they been caught?" Renly's interest was piqued. His blue eyes lit up.
⚔────────
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