"Come, Eddard." Eddard's sleepiness had not yet faded when he was forced into the morning chill; Eddard's Attendants knocked on the Duke's door, informing him that the King was waiting for him.
Eddard arrived at the stables to find his mount already prepared, and the King already on horseback. The King wore thick brown gloves and a heavy fur-lined cloak, looking like a fat bear on horseback.
"Wake up, Stark!" the King roared, "Wake up, we have matters of state to discuss."
"As you command, Your Grace, perhaps we should go to the council chambers?" Eddard said.
"Forget it! I hate those chairs, I hate those long tables, and in the castle, there are too many ears," the King's breath steamed in the cold air, "Let's go for a ride outside. I've been wanting to experience your Northern scenery. But truthfully, it's a bit too cold here."
"This is the North," Eddard said helplessly. Perhaps only Starks could endure the Long Winter. It was the responsibility of Northerners to lead their people through the Long Winter.
The King galloped wildly on his black warhorse. Eddard had no choice but to follow helplessly behind the King. Only after Eddard fully woke did he notice that two Kingsguard, along with a dozen guards, were following behind the King: Ser Boros and Ser Meryn.
Eddard said no more, just rode his horse, keeping pace with the King. But he quickly noticed something unusual: two White Knights.
Eddard was not very familiar with these two; he only knew the fearless Old Knight, Barristan, and the Kingslayer Jaime, who had sullied the White Knight's reputation. But since he was entering King's Landing, Eddard had to observe these two future colleagues.
Ser Boros was an ugly man with a broad chest and short, bowed legs. He had a flat nose, sagging cheeks, and a head of bad, graying hair. He wore thick white velvet and snow-white armor, on which was fastened a golden lion brooch with red gem eyes.
Ser Meryn's eyes were downcast, his mustache like Rust. Ser Meryn's attire was more ornate: a finely crafted white scale mail with gold thread, a high-crested golden sun helm, and gleaming iron plate for his knees, throat, hands, and boots, along with a heavy wool cloak adorned with a golden lion clasp.
"lions. All lions." Eddard noticed the golden lion symbols on both men. To call this a coincidence would be too much of one. Moreover, only House Lannister would be so extravagant with golden lions. Eddard had a more frightening suspicion: these two also pledged allegiance to House Lannister.
"Robert wouldn't trust House Lannister so much, would he?" Eddard was surprised in his heart. Gold could outweigh too many things. Considering that with the Kingslayer, three White Knights leaned towards House Lannister, this was not a good sign.
But Robert was not one to be advised, and Eddard said nothing more. Ser Barristan had already urged the King to make Jaime shed his White Cloak, but the King had not listened.
The King and Eddard surged through the Winterfell gates, both galloping wildly. They quickly left Winterfell and entered the dense, vast low hills. Even when the guards were some distance behind them, the King still did not slow down.
The King and Eddard had ascended a low hill. The King stopped, waiting for Eddard. The King's face was flushed, and he was in high spirits.
"Damn it, riding like a man in the open like that feels great! I tell you, plodding along like a wild ox will drive a man mad!" Robert shouted; he had never been a patient man. "Look at Cersei's wheelhouse, groaning and creaking… If that damn thing dares to break another axle, I swear I'll set it on fire and make Cersei walk."
Eddard laughed. "I'd be happy to light it for you…"
"I still wish we lived that life, the two of us, wandering knights, finding a farmer's daughter or an inn Attendants to warm our beds."
"That would be good," Eddard said. "But we have responsibilities… the kingdom, our Children, our ladies…"
"You boy, you were never young," the King grumbled. "But there was that one time, what was that girl's name…"
"Her name was Wylla," Eddard frowned. "I don't wish to continue this conversation."
The two continued to exchange pleasantries.
"Yesterday, Lord Varys sent a letter from King's Landing," the King said, then pulled a piece of paper from his belt.
The eunuch's name also disgusted Eddard; Varys had served the Mad King before, and now served Robert.
Eddard's heart was very anxious; he feared the letter contained information about that accusation, about Lady Lysa.
But after opening the letter, Eddard breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn't about Lysa, but about Gendry and Daenerys.
"Daenerys is well protected by Gendry, but they are not yet married. Do we need to send gifts in advance?" Eddard asked.
"Gifts," the King frowned. "There are more dangerous words in there that you didn't see: warships, Longbowmen, legions. Three legions poised for action. These aren't Wights; these are real armies."
"It is indeed a problem," Eddard said cautiously, but in his mind, Stannis's accusation echoed again, and he thought of the golden lions among the White Knights. Compared to the enemy Across the Narrow Sea, were the enemies within The Red Keep more deserving of attention?
"How about we send a good blade? A man with courage is worth a thousand armies," the King said with a frown.
"Your Grace, they are just Children, especially one of them is your Child. We can't just indiscriminately slaughter them like Tywin Lannister, can we? It is said that when they killed Rhaegar's little daughter, the Child cried tears. Rhaegar's son was just a babe in swaddling clothes, and Tywin's men still tore him from his mother's breast and smashed his head against a wall," Eddard said.
"Children? He is not my son; he is a traitor. He has allied with the remnants of the true dragon to cause me trouble," the King said. "But the title of kinslayer doesn't sound good, so I only choose to send someone to assassinate those remnants of the true dragon. I need you, my Old Friend."
"Be that as it may, compared to heinous murder, I would prefer we gather a fleet, just as we defeated King Balon," Eddard said.
"Heinous!" the King roared. "The Mad King to your brother, to your father, think of their terrible deaths—that was heinous! And Rhaegar, how many times did he rape your sister? Once, or hundreds of times?" The King calmed his horse, then shouted furiously. "I will kill every single member of House Targaryen, wipe them out completely. I will make them die cleanly and thoroughly like dragons, and then piss on their graves."
Eddard fell into a moment of silence. Eddard knew he could not contradict the King when he was angry. But Eddard still mustered his courage. "You can't kill one of them, can you? Besides, I hope our victory is more honorable."
"Honorable?" the King frowned. "You've said a good thing, and you're even willing to command the fleet for me. But my Old Friend, do you know how much money is in the royal treasury right now?"
"How much?" Eddard asked cautiously, preparing for the worst.
"Three million gold dragons in debt, or five or six million, I've forgotten the exact amount; you know I don't like counting coppers," the King spread his hands. "So I don't have any good options. Assassins are still more cost-effective. If we were to mobilize armies and build warships, that number would truly be countless gold dragons. How much longer would I have to wait?"
Eddard felt as if he was frozen in the wind; the number of five million gold dragons made his head explode. Had all the mountains of gold and silver left by the Mad King vanished?
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