286 AC, King's Landing, Small Council Chamber…
The chamber of the small council was richly furnished. Myrish carpets were covering the floor instead of rushes. Cups made from gold and silver were glittering as the yellow sunlight was brightly lightening the room. A big table was surrounded by chairs which were carved with an image of a crowned stag. With just one look at the room, you could see that it was made for a royal family.
However, the atmosphere in the chamber was as grim as a withering tree in the desert. People who were sitting on the chairs were waiting in silence for the most important man in the continent and they did not wait long as the king of these lands arrived at the chamber with a sober face unlike him.
The members of the small council stood up in respect to the king and as soon as the king took a seat he looked around the table and turned his face to his right and said, "Why did you call for me Jon? I already gave a speech to the smallfolk for that blasted famine."
There was a weary look on the Hand of the King's, Jon Arryn, face. However, he was the only man who could hold the kingdoms together while his previous ward and now king, Robert Baratheon, spent his days in debauchery. And with the recent events, things were becoming tiring even for him. He prayed every second to be able to pull through this year.
"Your Grace, Seven's Curse has already spread throughout the Crownlands, soon it will reach King's Landing so we need to shut the gates before the city catches the disease." Jon talked while looking at Robert.
"Damn that High Septon, first he tries to kill smallfolk and even after his death he troubles us and spreads the disease!" Robert bellowed out while smashing fist to the table and turned towards the Grand Maester, "Pycelle, your order still did not find any cure?"
Grand Maester Pycelle stammered out, "No, Your Grace, Citadel is still working on the cure but rubbing the petals of the rose eases the pain."
The disease was spread by the High Septon when he was visiting the Starry Sept in Oldtown. Though he died before he could reach Crownlands, those people who kissed his hand for a blessing when he was in the Reach caught the disease. As the disease was seen only on these people, everyone began calling it Seven's Curse. It caused painful black masses to spread across the neck. As the disease progressed, these masses ruptured, resulting in large open sores and eventually, death. People were already abandoning their children deep down in the woods as the septons were preaching that it was the hidden agents of the Stranger who caught the disease.
The disease had already claimed the life of Lord Hightower's second-born son, Garth, and firstborn daughter, Malora, by the time it was realized that the disease was deadly.
"They better find it soon, we don't send those golds for nothing." Robert looked at Jon and grumbled, "Shut the gates, Joffrey born just a moon ago. I don't want to lose my heir in his cradle."
Jon sighed and nodded his head, "There is another matter you need to deal with. Ned sent a raven asking for more food. Apparently, they begin using their winter reserves as no food goes north of the Neck."
Robert snorted, "Do you really need to ask me, just send food and don't ask payment. Write it off as a debt, they can pay after the famine."
Suddenly, someone coughed and everyone looked at where the sound came from. It was a middle-aged stout man and he was seated on one of the seats. His name was Rud Cressy and he was serving as the Master of Coins in the small council.
"Your Grace, we are already one million dragons in debt to House Lannister. With the famine and pandemic food prices should be rising soon so sending food and not taking payment could be disastrous for the kingdom." Rud talked meekly as everyone looked at him.
Robert snorted and said, "You mean to say I should refuse the man who helped me to slay Seven damned dragons and conquer the kingdoms." He raged while talking, "Where were you while Eddard Stark helped me to win my crown, huh? As far as I remember you serving to the fucking dragonspawns!"
Rud shrank back to his chair while Jon tried to calm Robert, "Robert, I'm sure he just meant sending food at once would be disastrous so we should send it on a monthly basis for six months."
"Yes, you do that. I have no mind left for the matters of the realm," said Robert.
As Robert stood up, a hasty voice sounded from one of the seats, "Your Grace, there is another matter that concerns you." It was Varys that was talking.
"Say it quickly." Robert talked without any care.
"My little birds have news regarding this new religion from Essos." Every man's ears in the chambers reached for the voice, even for the king's. As the religion was spreading too quickly in Essos and already, it had several temples in the Seven Kingdoms.
"They say their priests in Oldtown heal people who caught this disease with magic. However, they only heal people who believe in their gods. Maybe we could invite one of their priests to the city in case Your Grace and Your Grace's family caught the disease." said Varys while rubbing his hands. Though he hated magic, his little birds confirmed that they were curing the disease without magic but with a special mixture.
Grand Maester Pycelle scoffed at Varys's words while Jon scratched his chin and said, "I remember that they asked for a place in the city for building a temple of their own but I refused it as there was no need for religious strife in the city but considering the recent events we could surely allow them to do it."
Robert walked towards the door, "Aye, do it." He stopped for a moment and said, "Tell them, if they can destroy the Dragonpit then they can build it there." With these words, Robert walked out and the small council continued operating the realm from this small room as usual.
286 AC, Lys, Temple of God, Meeting Room…
Gerold was having his daily meeting with Sargoso and Raenar but Trios was not there as he was visiting the new girls in the brothel.
"How is the progress in Westeros going?" asked Gerold as he looked to Raenar and Sargoso.
Raenar opened his mouth to talk but Sargoso was quicker, "Your Holiness, the Faith of the Seven is already losing his hold in some cities due to the disease. Some people already saw the light of the true path but those damned heathens tried to attack believers. However, as the kingdom bans armed religious men on the continent, there are no holy guards in the temples."
Gerold looked at his cup and sipped wine from it and said, "Send some holy guards disguised as normal priests but choose from those who look like Westerosi and know the common tongue."
Sargoso bowed his head and said, "Yes, Your Holiness."
Raenar saw Gerold looking at him so he said, "Your Holiness, they asked to buy food from us but none of the free cities is willing to sell as all of them can feel the coming war. This is good for us but the nobles of Sunset Kingdoms shut their gates to the normal people so it looks like they won't lose too much power from this disease and famine. Probably, there will be some small uprisings but they will be suppressed quickly."
"Hmm, so we need to weaken the kingdoms individually…" said Gerold while thinking about what to do.
"Your Holiness, we can increase the number of steel weapons we provide to the wildlings and the mountain clansmen of the Vale," said Raenar.
"Yes, it would be good to create unrest in these regions but also send a few priests to support mountain clansmen in the Vale as the disease will be spreading there soon. We can't have them losing their numbers because of the disease we spread." Gerold talked while tapping the table.
"Shouldn't we demand them to convert?" asked Sargoso.
"Not for now, let them worship what they want as long as they are useful," said Gerold cruelly, "Enough of Westeros, is there any news from Aemon?"
"No, Your Holiness, he continues to gather support for the elections. Though there are some who want him out of the city amongst the red heathens, they won't dare to touch him as he is of the Old Blood. If he continues like this, with the votes we have gathered throughout buying property for freeborn, we will be able to elect him as a Triarch." said Raenar.
"Good, but still, we should prepare like he won't get selected to be sure." Gerold was being cautious to ensure the invasion is going to be successful.