A Game of Thrones Chapter Twenty

EddardEddard destitute rode through and through the rear bronze portals of the Red Keep sore, tired, hungry, and irri plug-in. He was until presently ahorse, dreaming of a spacious hot soak, a roast fowl, and a featherbed, when the world-beaters steward told him that Grand Maester Pycelle had convened an urgent coming upon of the clear council. The honor of the Hands presence was put across as soon as it was convenient. It give be convenient on the morrow, Ned snapped as he dis attach.The steward bowed truly low. I s dorm give the councillors your regrets, my lord.No, damn it, Ned give tongue to. It would non do to off finish the council in the lead he had even begun. I testament image them. Pray give me a a couple of(prenominal) numbers to change into just ab forth occasion more presendable.Yes, my lord, the steward utter. We commit given you skipper Arryns former ho office in the tower of the Hand, if it please you. I sh some(prenominal) switch your thi ngs taken t present.My thanks, Ned give tongue to as he ripped off his riding gloves and tuck them into his belt. The rest of his syndicate was coming through the gate behind him. Ned precept Vayon Poole, his sustain steward, and accosted out. It seems the council has urgent get of me. See that my daughters go out their bedchambers, and tell Jory to prevail them thither. Arya is not to go exploring. Poole bowed. Ned off endorse to the royal steward. My wagons argon even so straggling through the city. I sh either select appropriate garments.It pass on be my great pleasure, the steward state.And so Ned had roll in the hay striding into the council chambers, b unmatched-tired and dressed in geted clothing, to find 4 members of the polished council carrying for him.The chamber was profusely furnished. Myrish carpets c everyplaceed the floor instead of rushes, and in one corner a one C fabulous beasts cavorted in bright paints on a carved screen from the spend Isles . The skirts were hung with tapestries from Norvos and Qohor and Lys, and a pair of Valyrian sphinxes flanked the door, eyeb every(prenominal) of keen garnet smoldering in black marble lawsuits.The councillor Ned exchangeab direct least, the eunuch Varys, accosted him the moment he entered. passe-partout unforgiving, I was w eight-spoty sad to hear nearly your troubles on the queen regnantsroad. We submit both been visiting the phratry to light abidedles for Prince Joffrey. I pray for his rec oery. His snuff it left powder stains on Neds limb, and he smelled as foul and sugariness as flowers on a grave.Your gods ingest comprehend you, Ned replied, cool stock- unbosom polite. The prince grows stronger alwaysy twenty-four hour period. He disentangled himself from the eunuchs grip and cut through the get on to where skipper Renly s tood by the screen, twaddleing quietly with a short hu opus beings who could save be Littlefinger. Renly had been a boy of eigh t when Robert won the throne, provided he had with child(p) into a adult male so identical his chum salmon that Ned engraft it disc one timerting. Whenever he dictum him, it was as if the years had slipped amodal value and Robert stood in the lead him, fresh from his victory on the T summonnt.I see you have arrived safely, original Stark, Renly said.And you as rise, Ned replied. You moldiness forgive me, scarce whatsoevertimes you ensure the very image of your blood br opposite Robert.A poor copy, Renly said with a shrug.Though much mitigate dressed, Littlefinger quipped. master copy Renly spends more on clothing than fractional the ladies of the court.It was true large. Lord Renly was in black-market green velvet, with a dozen flamboyant stags embroidered on his doublet. A cloth-of- opulent half p entirelyium was draped casually across one lift, fastened with an emerald brooch. in that respect be worsened crimes, Renly said with a laugh. The way you dress, f or one.Littlefinger disregard the jibe. He eyed Ned with a pull a verbal expression on his lips that bordered on insolence. I have hoped to meet you for close to years, Lord Stark. No discredit Lady Catelyn has mentioned me to you.She has, Ned replied with a thrill in his voice. The sly impudence of the comment rankled him. I understand you knew my companion Brandon as salutary.Renly Baratheon laughed. Varys shuffled over to list.Rather too well, Littlefinger said. I still carry a token of his esteem. Did Brandon speak of me too?Often, and with some heat, Ned said, hoping that would end it. He had no solitaire with this game they played, this dueling with haggle.I should have purview that heat ill suits you Starks, Littlefinger said. Here in the south, they say you ar all make of ice, and melt when you ride below the Neck.I do not plan on melting soon, Lord Baelish. You may itemize on it. Ned moved to the council table and said, Maester Pycelle, I trust you ar well. The Grand Maester smiled quietly from his tall chair at the beak of the table. Well enough for a man of my years, my lord, he replied, yet I do tire easily, I concern. Wispy strands of snow-covered hair fringed the broad grow dome of his fore coping higher up a material bodyly face. His maesters collar was no unbiased metal choker such as Luwin wore, but twain dozen hefty chains shock together into a ponderous metal necklace that covered him from pharynx to breast. The links were forged of every metal known to man black weightlift and red funds, bright copper and thudding lead, steel and tin and pale silver, organisation and bronze and platinum. Garnets and amethysts and black pearls adorned the metalwork, and here and there an emerald or ruby. possibly we strength begin soon, the Grand Maester said, hands knitting together atop his broad stomach. I veneration I shall fall sleepy head scripted if we wait much longer.As you allow. The exponents buns sat empty at the head of the table, the crowned stag of Baratheon embroidered in gold thread on its pillows. Ned took the chair beside it, as the right hand of his king. My lords, he said formally, I am sorry to have kept you waiting.You ar the Kings Hand, Varys said. We serve at your pleasure, Lord Stark.As the others took their accustomed seats, it taken with(p) Eddard Stark force seriousy that he did not belong here, in this room, with these men. He toy withed what Robert had told him in the crypts below Winterfell. I am environ by flatterers and fools, the king had insisted. Ned viewed down the council table and wondered which were the flatterers and which the fools. He estimate he knew already. We be but five, he pointed out.Lord Stannis took himself to Dragonstone not long by and by the king went north, Varys said, and our sublime Ser Barristan no doubt rides beside the king as he makes his way through the city, as befits the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.mayhap we had ope ra hat wait for Ser Barristan and the king to join us, Ned suggested.Renly Baratheon laughed aloud. If we wait for my blood brother to grace us with his royal presence, it could be a long sit.Our great King Robert has many cares, Varys said. He entrusts some small matters to us, to lighten his load.What Lord Varys intend is that all this business of coin and crops and legal expert bores my royal brother to tears, Lord Renly said, so it falls to us to govern the acres. He does send us a require from time to time. He drew a tightly rolled paper from his sleeve and laid it on the table. This morning he commanded me to ride ahead with all upsurge and withdraw Grand Maester Pycelle to convene this council at once. He has an urgent task for us.Littlefinger smiled and reach the paper to Ned. It bore the royal seal. Ned skint the wax with his thumb and flattened the letter to consider the kings urgent command, reading the haggle with mounting disbelief. Was there no end to Roberts folly? And to do this in his name, that was special K salt in the wound. Gods be good, he swore.What Lord Eddard means to say, Lord Renly announced, is that His Grace instructs us to stage a great tournament in honor of his appointment as the Hand of the King.How much? asked Littlefinger, mildly.Ned read the dissolving agent off the letter. Forty one thousand luxurious flying dragons to the champion. Twenty thousand to the man who comes second, other twenty to the w inside(a) of the melee, and ten thousand to the victor of the archery competition.Ninety thousand gold pieces, Littlefinger sighed. And we must not neglect the other costs. Robert will want a majestic feast. That means cooks, carpenters, serving girls, singers, jugglers, fools . . . Fools we have in plenty, Lord Renly said.Grand Maester Pycelle looked to Littlefinger and asked, Will the exchequer bear the expense?What treasury is that? Littlefinger replied with a twist of his mouth. Spare me the foolishness, Maester. You know as well as I that the treasury has been empty for years. I shall have to borrow the money. No doubt the Lannisters will be accommodating. We owe Lord Tywin some triad one million million million dragons at present, what matter some other hundred thousand?Ned was stunned. Are you claiming that the top side is tercet million gold pieces in debt?The Crown is more than six million gold pieces in debt, Lord Stark. The Lannisters are the biggest part of it, but we have overly borrowed from Lord Tyrell, the Iron Bank of Braavos, and some(prenominal) Tyroshi trading cartels. Of late Ive had to turn to the Faith. The senior high Septon haggles worse than a Dornish fishmonger.Ned was aghast. Aerys Targaryen left a treasury flowing with gold. How could you let this overstep?Littlefinger gave a shrug. The master of coin finds the money. The king and the Hand spend it.I will not believe that Jon Arryn allowed Robert to beggar the landed estate, Ned said hotly.Grand M aester Pycelle shook his great denudate head, his chains clinking kookiely. Lord Arryn was a prudent man, but I fear that His Grace does not always listen to wise counsel.My royal brother loves tournaments and feasts, Renly Baratheon said, and he loathes what he calls counting coppers. I will speak with His Grace, Ned said. This tourney is an extravagance the realm bottomlandnot afford.Speak to him as you will, Lord Renly said, we had still best make our plans.Another day, Ned said. Perhaps too sharply, from the looks they gave him. He would have to remember that he was no longer in Winterfell, where still the king stood higher here, he was but introductory among equals. Forgive me, my lords, he said in a softer tone. I am tired. Let us call a halt for today and suck when we are fresher. He did not ask for their consent, but stood abruptly, nodded at them all, and made for the door.Outside, wagons and riders were still pouring through the castle gates, and the thousand was a chaos of mud and horseflesh and shouting men. The king had not yet arrived, he was told. Since the ugliness on the Trident, the Starks and their house determine had ridden well ahead of the main column, the better to separate themselves from the Lannisters and the growing tension. Robert had ticklishly been seen the talk was he was traveling in the enormous wheelhouse, drunk as often as not. If so, he might be hours behind, but he would still be here too soon for Neds liking. He had only to look at Sansas face to tang the rage twisting inside him once again. The survive fortnight of their journey had been a misery. Sansa blamed Arya and told her that it should have been Nymeria who died. And Arya was lost after she heard what had happened to her butchers boy. Sansa cried herself to sleep, Arya brooded silently all day long, and Eddard Stark dreamed of a nippy hell reserved for the Starks of Winterfell.He crossed the outer yard, passed under a portcullis into the inner bailey, and was walking toward what he thought was the Tower of the Hand when Littlefinger appeared in front of him. Youre leaving the wrong way, Stark. Come with me.Hesitantly, Ned followed. Littlefinger led him into a tower, down a stair, across a small sunlightken courtyard, and along a deserted corridor where empty suits of armor stood lookout man along the walls. They were relics of the Targaryens, black steel with dragon scales cresting their helms, now dusty and forgotten. This is not the way to my chambers, Ned said.Did I say it was? Im leading you to the dungeons to bread your throat and seal your corpse up behind a wall, Littlefinger replied, his voice trickle with sarcasm. We have no time for this, Stark. Your wife awaits.What game are you playing, Littlefinger? Catelyn is at Winterfell, hundreds of leagues from here.Oh? Littlefingers grey-green eyes glittered with amusement. Then it appears someone has managed an astonishing impersonation. For the ut nigh(a) time, come. O r dont come, and Ill keep her for myself. He speed down the steps.Ned followed him warily, wondering if this day would ever end. He had no taste for these intrigues, but he was beginning to realize that they were perfume and mead to a man like Littlefinger.At the foot of the steps was a enceinte door of oak and iron. Petyr Baelish lifted the crossbar and gestured Ned through. They stepped out into the ruddy glow of dusk, on a rocky bluff high above the river. Were outside the castle, Ned said. You are a hard man to fool, Stark, Littlefinger said with a smirk. Was it the sun that gave it away, or the sky? Follow me. There are niches cut in the rock. punctuate not to fall to your death, Catelyn would never understand. With that, he was over the side of the cliff, descending as quick as a monkey.Ned examine the rocky face of the bluff for a moment, thus followed more slowly. The niches were there, as Littlefinger had promised, shallow cuts that would be invisible from below, unl ess you knew just where to look for them. The river was a long, dizzying distance below. Ned kept his face pressed to the rock and tried not to look down any more often than he had to.When at conclusion he reached the bottom, a narrow, muddy leash along the waters edge, Littlefinger was lazing against a rock and consume an orchard apple tree. He was al most(prenominal) down to the core. You are growing old and slow, Stark, he said, flipping the apple casually into the rushing water. No matter, we ride the rest of the way. He had two horses waiting. Ned mounted up and trotted behind him, down the tail and into the city.Finally Baelish drew rein in front of a ramshackle building, three stories, timbered, its windows bright with lamplight in the gathering dusk. The sounds of symphony and raucous laughter drifted out and floated over the water. Beside the door swung an ornate oil lamp on a heavy chain, with a globe of leaded red glass.Ned Stark dismounted in a fury. A brothel, he s aid as he seized Littlefinger by the shoulder and spun him around. Youve brought me all this way to take me to a brothel.Your wife is inside, Littlefinger said.It was the final insult. Brandon was too kind to you, Ned said as he slammed the small man gumption against a wall and shoved his sticker up under the dinky pointed chin beard.My lord, no, an urgent voice called out. He speaks the truth. There were footsteps behind him.Ned spun, knife in hand, as an old white-haired man hurried toward them. He was dressed in brown roughspun, and the soft flesh under his chin wobbled as he ran. This is no business of yours, Ned began then, abruptly, the recognition came. He take down the sticker, astonished. Ser Rodrik?Rodrik Cassel nodded. Your lady awaits you upstairs.Ned was lost. Catelyn is truly here? This is not some strange jape of Littlefingers? He sheathed his brand name.Would that it were, Stark, Littlefinger said. Follow me, and try to look a shade more sexy and a shade les s like the Kings Hand. It would not do to have you recognized. Perhaps you could fondle a breast or two, just in passing.They went inside, through a crowded common room where a fat woman was singing dirty songs bit pretty new girls in linen shifts and wisps of colored silk pressed themselves against their lovers and dandled on their laps. No one paid Ned the least bit of attention. Ser Rodrik waited below while Littlefinger led him up to the third floor, along a corridor, and through a door.Inside, Catelyn was waiting. She cried out when she saw him, ran to him, and embraced him fiercely.My lady, Ned whispered in wonderment.Oh, very good, said Littlefinger, closing the door. You recognized her.I feared youd never come, my lord, she whispered against his chest. Petyr has been bringing me reports. He told me of your troubles with Arya and the young prince. How are my girls?Both in mourning, and rise of anger, he told her. Cat, I do not understand. What are you doing in Kings Landi ng? Whats happened? Ned asked his wife. Is it Bran? Is he . . . Dead was the word that came to his lips, but he could not say it.It is Bran, but not as you think, Catelyn said.Ned was lost. Then how? why are you here, my love? What is this place?Just what it appears, Littlefinger said, respite himself onto a window seat. A brothel. burn you think of a less likely place to find a Catelyn Tully? He smiled. As it chances, I own this crabbed establishment, so arrangements were easily made. I am most anxious to keep the Lannisters from instruction that Cat is here in Kings Landing.why? Ned asked. He saw her hands then, the ill at ease(p) way she held them, the raw red scars, the ungracefulness of the last two fingers on her left. Youve been hurt. He took her hands in his own, turned them over. Gods. Those are deep cuts . . . a gash from a sword or . . . how did this happen, my lady?Catelyn slid a dagger out from under her vest and placed it in his hand. This blade was sent to ope n Brans throat and spill his lifes blood.Neds head jerked up. But . . . who . . . why would . . . She put a finger to his lips. Let me tell it all, my love. It will go faster that way. Listen.So he listened, and she told it all, from the fire in the library tower to Varys and the guardsmen and Littlefinger. And when she was do, Eddard Stark sat dazed beside the table, the dagger in his hand. Brans wolf had saved the boys life, he thought dully. What was it that Jon had said when they found the haves in the snow? Your children were meant to have these pups, my lord. And he had killed Sansas, and for what? Was it sin he was feeling? Or fear? If the gods had sent these wolves, what folly had he done?Painfully, Ned forced his thoughts defend to the dagger and what it meant. The varlets dagger, he repeated. It made no sense. His hand kink around the smooth dragonbone hilt, and he slammed the blade into the table, felt it bite into the wood. It stood mocking him. Why should Tyrion L annister want Bran dead? The boy has never done him harm.Do you Starks have null but snow between your ears? Littlefinger asked. The Imp would never have acted alone.Ned rose and paced the duration of the room. If the queen had a role in this or, gods forbid, the king himself . . . no, I will not believe that. Yet even as he said the words, he remembered that chill morning on the barrowlands, and Roberts talk of send hired knives after the Targaryen princess. He remembered Rhaegars baby son, the red ruin of his skull, and the way the king had turned away, as he had turned away in Darrys audience hall not so long ago. He could still hear Sansa pleading, as Lyanna had pleaded once. roughly likely the king did not know, Littlefinger said. It would not be the first time. Our good Robert is adept at closing his eyes to things he would quite an not see.Ned had no resolve for that. The face of the butchers boy swam up before his eyes, cloven almost in two, and by and by the king had s aid not a word. His head was pounding.Littlefinger sauntered over to the table, wrenched the knife from the wood. The bang is treason either way. Accuse the king and you will dance with Ilyn Payne before the words are out of your mouth. The queen . . . if you can find proof, and if you can make Robert listen, then perhaps . . . We have proof, Ned said. We have the dagger.This? Littlefinger flipped the knife casually end over end. A concoction piece of steel, but it cuts two ways, my lord. The Imp will no doubt swear the blade was lost or stolen while he was at Winterfell, and with his venal dead, who is there to give him the lie? He tossed the knife lightly to Ned. My counsel is to sink that in the river and stop that it was ever forged.Ned regarded him coldly. Lord Baelish, I am a Stark of Winterfell. My son lies crippled, perhaps dying. He would be dead, and Catelyn with him, but for a wolf pup we found in the snow. If you truly believe I could forget that, you are as big a f ool now as when you took up sword against my brother.A fool I may be, Stark . . . yet Im still here, while your brother has been moldering in his frozen grave for some fourteen years now. If you are so eager to molder beside him, far be it from me to dissuade you, but I would rather not be acknowledged in the party, thank you very much.You would be the last man I would willingly include in any party, Lord Baelish.You wound me deeply. Littlefinger placed a hand over his heart. For my part, I always found you Starks a tiresome lot, but Cat seems to have become attached to you, for reasons I cannot comprehend. I shall try to keep you alive for her sake. A fools task, admittedly, but I could never rule out your wife anything.I told Petyr our suspicions about Jon Arryns death, Catelyn said. He has promised to help you find the truth.That was not intelligence service that Eddard Stark welcomed, but it was true enough that they needed help, and Littlefinger had been almost a brother to Cat once. It would not be the first time that Ned had been forced to make common cause with a man he despised. Very well, he said, thrusting the dagger into his belt. You spoke of Varys. Does the eunuch know all of it?Not from my lips, Catelyn said. You did not wed a fool, Eddard Stark. But Varys has ways of realiseing things that no man could know. He has some shadow art, Ned, I swear it.He has spies, that is well known, Ned said, dismissive.It is more than that, Catelyn insisted. Ser Rodrik spoke to Ser Aron Santagar in all secrecy, yet somehow the Spider knew of their conversation. I fear that man.Littlefinger smiled. Leave Lord Varys to me, sweet lady. If you will permit me a small obscenityand where better for itI cast off the mans balls in the palm of my hand. He cupped his fingers, smiling. Or would, if he were a man, or had any balls. You see, if the pie is opened, the birds begin to sing, and Varys would not like that. Were I you, I would worry more about the Lannisters and less about the eunuch.Ned did not need Littlefinger to tell him that. He was thinking back to the day Arya had been found, to the look on the queens face when she said, We have a wolf, so soft and quiet. He was thinking of the boy Mycah, of Jon Arryns sudden death, of Brans fall, of old mad Aerys Targaryen dying on the floor of his throne room while his lifes blood dried on a golden blade. My lady, he said, turning to Catelyn, there is nothing more you can do here. I want you to return to Winterfell at once. If there was one assassin, there could be others. Whoever ordered Brans death will learn soon enough that the boy still lives.I had hoped to see the girls . . . Catelyn said.That would be most unwise, Littlefinger put in. The Red Keep is full of curious eyes, and children talk.He speaks truly, my love, Ned told her. He embraced her. constitute Ser Rodrik and ride for Winterfell. I will watch over the girls. Go home to our sons and keep them safe.As you say, my lord. Catel yn lifted her face, and Ned kissed her. Her maimed fingers clutched against his back with a desperate strength, as if to hold him safe forever in the value of her arms.Would the lord and lady like the use of a bedchamber? asked Littlefinger. I should take to task you, Stark, we usually charge for that sort of thing around here.A moment alone, thats all I ask, Catelyn said.Very well. Littlefinger strolled to the door. Dont be too long. It is past time the Hand and I returned to the castle, before our absence is noted.Catelyn went to him and took his hands in her own. I will not forget the help you gave me, Petyr. When your men came for me, I did not know whether they were taking me to a adorer or an enemy. I have found you more than a friend. I have found a brother Id thought lost.Petyr Baelish smiled. I am desperately sentimental, sweet lady. Best not tell anyone. I have spent years win over the court that I am sickening and cruel, and I should hate to see all that hard work go for naught.Ned believed not a word of that, but he kept his voice polite as he said, You have my thanks as well, Lord Baelish.Oh, now theres a treasure, Littlefinger said, exiting.When the door had closed behind him, Ned turned back to his wife. Once you are home, send word to Helman Tallhart and Galbart Glover under my seal. They are to raise a hundred bowmen each and fortify fosse Cailin. Two hundred determined archers can hold the Neck against an army. Instruct Lord Manderly that he is to strengthen and repair all his defenses at WhiteHarbor, and see that they are well manned. And from this day on, I want a careful watch kept over Theon Greyjoy. If there is war, we shall have sore need of his fathers fleet.War? The fear was plain on Catelyns face.It will not come to that, Ned promised her, praying it was true. He took her in his arms again. The Lannisters are tigerish in the face of weakness, as Aerys Targaryen wise to(p) to his sorrow, but they would not dare fervour the nor th without all the power of the realm behind them, and that they shall not have. I must play out this fools masquerade as if nothing is amiss. Remember why I came here, my love. If I find proof that the Lannisters dispatch Jon Arryn . . . He felt Catelyn tremble in his arms. Her scarred hands clung to him. If, she said, what then, my love?That was the most dangerous part, Ned knew. All justice flows from the king, he told her. When I know the truth, I must go to Robert. And pray that he is the man I think he is, he finished silently, and not the man I fear he has become.