Noticing the Warden of the East's arrival, Ser Brynden Tully, the Blackfish, who never left Robert's side, rose at once and bowed.
"I came to take a look," Kal waved him off, signaling that such courtesy was unnecessary.
After half a month of upheaval within the Eyrie, Kal was no longer the insignificant bastard boy he had been upon arrival. Now the weight of the Warden of the East pressed heavier upon his shoulders with every passing day.
Through Lady Lysa's schemes, the Vale had been purged and reorganized from top to bottom. As news of those events spread, so too did Kal's reputation. Within the Vale's bounds, he had become the brightest star of all.
And with the power he now held in his hands, there was little to distinguish him from the Hand of the King.
True, he did not yet command an army or forces that belonged solely to him.
But that hardly mattered. One man was enough.
Since Kal Stone showed no concern, Brynden only made the gesture of respect before gesturing him to sit.
"My lord, is there something amiss?" Brynden asked curiously, handing over a cup of wine.
For on the march there was always something to see to. An army was no machine that moved itself; accidents and unforeseen events needed constant tending.
Fortunately, Kal had spent a month or two at Eddard Stark's side, much of it in the field, and so such matters were hardly foreign to him.
Indeed, after leading this column for some time, he had begun to find a rhythm with the Arryn household troops of the Eyrie. Nearly a week had passed since they departed the stronghold, and only two days since they had passed beyond the Bloody Gate.
The mountain roads were difficult travel, to be sure.
Taking the cup, Kal sipped casually before turning his eyes upon the Lord of the Eyrie.
"I came for you," he said, "and it also concerns little Robin."
Kal spoke as he set the wine cup down on the table, then reached out to stroke Robert Arryn's hair where the boy lay curled beneath the quilt.
Little Robin flinched, trying to shrink away but not daring to move.
Brynden's eyes fixed on Kal's hand as he asked, "What is it?"
"You should know very well what happened during the purge and inquiry at the Eyrie."
Kal did not look at him, speaking offhandedly. Yet even as he spoke, he withdrew his hand from Robert Arryn's head, yanked back the boy's quilt, and lifted him onto his own lap in one swift motion.
Holding Robert Arryn against him, broad-shouldered Kal looked like a bear clutching a rabbit.
With a turn of his hand, a pair of transparent bottles appeared—one round as an apple, the other oval like an egg.
Kal dangled the two vessels before Robert Arryn's face. One glowed blood-red, the color of fresh gore; the other shone golden, like thick honey. Brynden, puzzled by the sight, turned sharply toward Kal.
Hearing the Warden of the East touch upon such matters, his brows furrowed slightly. "I have not paid those affairs any special heed. You should know—they have nothing to do with me."
Seeing Kal's rough treatment of Robert Arryn, Brynden began to suspect that the Warden of the East meant to make trouble for him.
That suspicion made him all the more cautious.
Kal found his guardedness amusing.
"Of course I know. I trust you—your honor."
Kal's face split in a cheerful smile.
Brynden, however, did not reply. He simply stared at Kal—and at the two bottles in his hand.
Robert Arryn sat blankly in Kal's arms, his wide eyes staring, his brown hair tousled in a messy tangle. With a pitiful look he turned toward Ser Brynden Tully, as if silently pleading for rescue.
Kal ignored the boy's small gestures. Instead, he raised his eyes to meet the Blackfish's gaze.
"And what I want to tell you—something I chose to say only after leaving the Eyrie—is in fact about little Robin."
Brynden frowned, unable to discern what medicine the Warden of the East was peddling in this gourd.
Seeing his puzzlement, Kal did not string him along. He spoke bluntly: "Very well, I'll say it outright. I suspect the reason little Robin's health is so poor is because someone poisoned him in King's Landing—just as they did to Lord Jon Arryn."
Kal's words were as shocking as thunder.
At once, Ser Brynden Tully's eyes widened. He shot up from his chair, brows arched, his face flashing with both panic and rage.
"You—! How can that be? Do you realize what such words mean?!"
"And what do you think I uncovered?" Kal countered sharply, his smile twisting into mockery, his gaze turning cold. "When we investigated Lady Lysa and followed the trail further into the matter of Lord Jon Arryn's death?"
Brynden dared not speak further, though his expression grew all the graver as he locked eyes with him.
"A fog now shrouds everything before us," Kal said evenly. "When this war is over and I return to King's Landing, I will report my discoveries to the king without delay."
"And pray that the king will investigate Lord Jon Arryn's death to the very end—to uncover all who were involved."
Though Brynden remained silent, Kal did not stop speaking. Cradling little Robin, he jostled him playfully, teasing the boy as he spoke with steady seriousness.
He had not expected Kal Stone to approach him during this encampment rest and suddenly reveal such matters.
In Brynden Tully's eyes there was still a trace of caution.
He cast a glance toward the tent's entrance—four guards stood outside, posted firmly, showing no sign of having overheard.
"If you are right, I will support you," Brynden finally replied, drawing his gaze back to Kal. "But I do not wish to be handed a lie. I swear it on my life."
Seeing the man choose to believe him, Kal smiled faintly.
Then he set aside the grave subject and picked up the two potions he had brought out, introducing them: "This one is an antidote—very rare. And this one is an energy draught, to restore a person's strength. Rest assured, neither is some addictive poison."
Noticing the flicker in Brynden Tully's expression as he named the substances, Kal deliberately added: "I came across these formulas by chance while serving as a mercenary in the Free Cities, from the hands of a mage out of Asshai." Shaking the bottles lightly, he went on, "The antidote can purge most toxins—I have tested it. As for the energy draught, it simply restores vigor."
With that simple explanation, Brynden understood what Kal meant, and why he had chosen this moment to seek him out and speak of these things.
"Do not doubt me. I too am worthy of your trust. I have no designs upon the Vale. Lord Jon Arryn treated me with great kindness—he sheltered me until I was grown. It is only right that I repay his bloodline."
As the suspicion in the Blackfish's gaze gradually eased, Kal set the bottles down and fixed his eyes on Brynden's own, his words carrying a touch of sincerity.
"Lord Blackfish, you will see with your own eyes: the Arryns will flourish from this day forward."
With that, Kal pulled out both stoppers without hesitation, took a swallow from each bottle, then pressed them into Brynden's hand.
Then he gently lifted Robert Arryn from his lap, rose to his feet, and once more ruffled the boy's hair.
"Grow quickly—the Arryn family needs you."
Having soothed the boy, who had grown frightened at Kal's candid words, Kal finally turned back to Ser Brynden Tully.
"If you remain uneasy, drink some yourself and wait a while. This potion is precious—I cannot brew more than one in a month."
With that, Kal gave a casual wave to them both, then strode toward the exit.
"Oh, by the way," he added, just as he lifted the tent flap, "I was attacked by mountain clans on my way here. I lost a companion because of it. We may be delayed here for some time."
But as he reached the threshold, Kal paused as if recalling something, then turned his head toward Robert Arryn.
Hearing the words meant for him, Robert only nodded blankly, not quite understanding, while Kal smiled and turned away, leaving the tent behind.
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