"Where should I begin? The balance here has to be measured carefully." Arms crossed, Kal rubbed his chin.
At once, a name came naturally to mind.
It was Maester Colemon—the very first to discover that Jon Arryn was poisoned rather than sick, who had prepared an antidote but was blocked at the last moment by Grand Maester Pycelle.
Kal already knew this man from King's Landing, for during Jon Arryn's tenure as Hand, Colemon had served as his personal maester.
When the Hand fell gravely ill, Pycelle had dismissed him, citing youth and inexperience.
That, in turn, had become the indirect cause of Jon Arryn's death.
This time, Colemon had returned to the Eyrie with Lysa Tully, along with others.
Besides the already-dead Ser Vardis Egen—Lysa's tool, slain by Kal to shock the lords into submission—there were still many of Jon Arryn's household who had followed him to the capital.
Knights, squires, stewards, servants, cooks, and some of the soldiers.
Not a small number.
But that was no real problem.
What mattered most, and what was still missing, was one eunuch.
That could wait.
Once Tywin Lannister was dealt with, Kal would have plenty of time to play with them.
And if play failed, then the sword of a man with cheats was never blunt.
"The sky cells of the Eyrie should suit them well," Kal thought suddenly, recalling Tyrion's stay. "Cool, airy… an ideal place for conversation."
"I imagine they'll be quite willing to tell me everything they know."
Thus, ten days slipped swiftly by.
In that time, Kal tirelessly turned the Eyrie—already under his and the Vale lords' control—completely inside out.
Truth be told, the number of people truly tied to the matter was not great.
Yet once everything was dug through, more than a few related names were dragged into the light, enough to surprise even Kal.
But upon reflection, it was not so surprising after all.
Reality could often prove more absurd than any tale.
And over these days, he had indeed witnessed and heard plenty of absurdities.
For Kal, it was all to the good. Each new clue made his probing far easier.
Though the Vale lords were startled at first when Kal Stone began asking questions in the middle of interrogations about events in King's Landing, after the inquiries continued one after another, they grew accustomed to it.
In the end, after ten days of work, Kal had resolved the matter.
And in the name of Warden of the East, he executed more than twenty individuals directly tied to the attempted assassination.
The heavy hand of punishment left the entire Eyrie in fear, restless and uneasy.
It was at that moment that a raven arrived, bearing a letter from King Robert and Lord Eddard Stark.
When Maester Colemon handed the letter to him personally, Kal allowed himself a faint, hidden smile behind the parchment.
Almost at once, the smile faded from his lips.
A pillow delivered when sleep comes—well done, Lord Stark, very well done indeed.
"Lords," Kal began, seated as a matter of course upon the weirwood throne in the Eyrie's hall, "the war situation has grown urgent. Though these events here have already been reported to the Iron Throne, King Robert is pressing us for action. Therefore, I believe each of you must now hasten to your duties."
At his side stood Jon Snow and Jory Cassel, serving as guards.
Also present was Ser Brynden Tully, the Blackfish, who had somehow become little Robert Arryn's full-time caretaker.
Thus, in this solemn council, the boy lord—fearful and awkward as ever—sat obediently on a small stool by Kal's side, while Brynden Tully stood behind him, his gaze heavy upon the gathered lords.
With the letter already circulated among them, Kal pressed the advantage.
"So now, in the name of Warden of the East, I order you to return at once to your own lands with all speed.
"Our previous resolutions already laid out each of your responsibilities—there is no need for me to repeat them."
"And above all, the realm now requires your loyalty more than ever."
Before they could respond, Kal cut in sharply, issuing his command with practiced ease, wielding moral obligation like a weapon.
Several of the shrewder lords exchanged uneasy glances, sensing some hidden disquiet yet unable to name it.
But before any could speak, Lady Anya stepped forward.
"In that case, let us gather at Maidenpool," she said plainly.
With those words, she rose swiftly, offering Kal a slight bow of respect.
Seeing no opposition, Kal nodded.
"I shall go ahead of you and wait there."
With that, he too stood, bringing this final council with the Vale lords to a close.
All discussions of strategy were concluded: Maidenpool would be the staging ground for the Vale host before they marched to war.
It boasted a port—ideal for boarding ships—and served as a fitting position from which to enter the conflict.
Three days later, after tying up every loose end in the Eyrie, Kal departed as the last to leave.
Robert Arryn went with the army, kept close at Kal's side.
Kal had not left him behind in the Eyrie—for now, that castle was nothing more than a prison for Lady Lysa Tully.
This was also to avoid certain unnecessary accidents.
To hold the king as a hostage in order to command the lords—Kal had never done it himself, but he knew perfectly well how it worked.
It was precisely for this reason that Kal decided to take Robert Arryn with him.
Because of that, the force leaving the Eyrie with him swelled to nearly four hundred.
Beyond the necessary attendants, the strike power of this host lay in three hundred cavalry—fully armed and armored, elite soldiers of the Eyrie, living weapons honed to kill.
As for the Eyrie itself, Kal left behind very few men.
Aside from the servants needed to keep the castle functioning, every other soldier was withdrawn under Kal's orders as Warden of the East.
No one was permitted to enter the Eyrie without his command.
All soldiers were stationed at the Bloody Gate, a mere hundred left to guard it.
Within the Eyrie, after Kal's careful purge, those who needed killing had been killed, those who needed locking away had been locked away.
In some respects, Robert Arryn was indeed a useful king to hold.
Thus, the only man Kal deliberately left in the Eyrie with real authority was Jory Cassel. The rest were people he had already "moved" with his so-called charm—men like Maester Colemon.
As for the Eyrie's former steward, Nestor Royce—after giving up what he knew, the man, in shame, had "accidentally" stumbled through the Moon Door with two guards at his side.
Kal expressed his regret for the loss, and punished himself with a solitary cup of red wine.
After such measures, he was well at ease with the Eyrie's current state.
Leading his host away from the Bloody Gate, Kal glanced back at Robert Arryn, riding double with Brynden Tully, and gave a satisfied nod with a smile.
Then, as the gates shut behind them, he spurred his horse forward, raising his voice in a loud cry as he charged first down the mountain road.
...
They had set out five, yet returned nearly four hundred strong. With this host of elite warriors and cavalry at his back, Kal's company could truly be said to have traded muskets for cannons.
Though in theory these men all owed allegiance to Lord Robert Arryn, the Vale now had a Warden of the East—and that Warden was formally inscribed in the lord's family line as his sworn father.
Kal found that very convenient.
Marching along the mountain valley road, the army's pace was far slower than when it had only been Kal and a handful of men.
And Robert Arryn himself, frail of body, rode with the host looking utterly worn, his whole frame carrying the air of sickness.
So the column advanced by fits and starts, halting often, never able to press its speed.
Lifting the tent flap, Kal stepped inside where Robert Arryn lay.
Little Robin was curled up beneath a bearskin quilt, his small frame swallowed by it.
The instant he saw Kal, the boy shuddered, instinctively ducking his head halfway back under the covers, leaving only a pair of wide eyes peeking out at him.
That Robin feared him did not surprise Kal.
After all, the boy might be deranged, but not wholly mad.
At most he was spoiled, a touch manic—nothing more.
To Kal, that was no trouble at all. Quite treatable.
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