298 AC, King's Landing…
Ned got into the small council room, the rest of the small council was already waiting for him and there were two additions to the small council. Both of them were representatives of their respective religions.
He passed over the table and sat onto his seat. His eyes scanned the occupants of the table. One of the new members of the small council caught his eyes as his looks were of the North.
On the other hand, the other one had a smug look on his face with southern features. And his attire was the classic septon garbs.
Ned coughed into his hand and looked at the new members. "Before starting I would like to know our new members."
Hearing the Hand's words, septon grabbed the chance and spoke without raising himself, "Septon Tyrek."
Then, the priest introduced himself but he stood up and bowed towards the hand while doing that. "Bishop Rickard."
Ned's guesses were true and the priest was indeed a Northerner. Though septon's name and attitude disturbed him. From his attitude and name, he guessed him as a Westerlander.
Ned's eyes turned to the last person he did not. A man in golden armour was standing at the side with a helmet under his arm.
"Ser Janos, Commander of the City Watch." the man introduced himself while bowing his head.
Ned nodded his head. "What can the small council do for the City Watch, Ser Janos?" he asked.
Janos straightened his spine and spoke with a clear voice. "The problem is the Hand's tourney, my lords. Knights have been arriving from all over the realm, and for every knight, we get two freeriders, three craftsmen, six men-at-arms, a dozen merchants, two dozen whores, and more thieves than I dare guess… Last night we had a drowning, a tavern riot, three knife fights, a rape, two fires, robberies beyond count and a drunken horse race down the Street of the Sisters. The night before a woman's head was found in the Great Sept, floating in the rainbow pool and no one seems to know how it got there or who it belongs to."
Ned admired the man as he thought about how he kept all of these in his mind. However, City Watch still needed able men to keep guard in the streets.
"Hire fifty new men," Ned told him. "Lord Baelish will see that you get the coin."
"I will?" Littlefinger raised an eyebrow.
"You will. If you can find forty thousand golden dragons for a champion's purse, surely you can find some coppers to keep the king's peace." Ned turned back to Janos Slynt, "I will also give you twenty good men from my household guards. I'm sure this will be enough."
"Ahem." Suddenly, Bishop Rickard cut in before Slynt could say anything. "The Temple is also willing to lend some good men for the protection of the innocents."
Septon Tyrek slammed his fist to the table and yelled, "While the heretics roam through the streets, the Seven won't stand aside. We are also willing to lend some good men."
"Hmph, the only thing your weak septons know is to deceive people!" Bishop bellowed out.
"Blasphemy!" Septon yelled.
"Enough!" Ned raised his voice seeing them bickering with each other. "None of you will send any men. Besides, I thought the temple was not allowed to arm men…"
Bishop smirked when he heard the question directed to him. "Of course, no believer is armed. However, there is no such restriction as stopping them from learning the way of the sword. Isn't that right Lord Renly? You should know this better as the Master of Laws."
Renly was taken aback at the sudden question. "Yes… yes, there are no restrictions regarding that."
Ned sighed inwardly and thought about talking this with Robert. This new religion was becoming too bold by saying such a thing publicly.
He turned to Slynt and said, "You can leave, Ser Janos." There were still so many things to talk about and he did not want to waste his time with these trivial things.
…
Two horses were strolling through a muddy road with a man and a woman on them. The man was a stout with soft flesh under his chin, his white hair was stuck to his forehead while the woman was a slender beauty that aged like a bottle of wine, her auburn hair was also plastered across her forehead.
"The rain is quickening, my lady. You ought to cover your head," said the man.
"It is only water, Ser Rodrik," Catelyn smiled. The warm and thin rain made her remember her childhood. The mud pies they made with her sister Lysa were still on her mind. She had almost forgotten this feeling. In the north, the rain fell cold and hard, it sent grown men running for the nearest shelter and it was no rain for little girls to play in.
"I am soaked through," Ser Rodrik complained. "Even my bones are wet." They were closing onto the woods as the horses walked on the mud. The sun was slowly falling down and their speed was slowing because of the exhaustion the horses faced.
"There is an inn at the crossroads up ahead," Catelyn told him.
"An inn… but if we wish to remain unknown, it would be better for us to seek out some small holdfast…"
"No stranger would know mud-spattered Lady Stark, even my father's men won't know me if I won't tell them," Catelyn reassured him.
Ser Rodrik relented at last and they rode their horses forward. It was dark when they reached.
Catelyn still remembered the owner of the inn, a woman named Masha Heddle. She always had sweet cakes for her whenever they rode or stayed in her inn. However, she was fatter and greyer than Catelyn remembered. The inn was nearly empty, contrary to its prime location. It was obvious that the plague hit hard to the business.
Ser Rodrik greeted the owner and spoke simply. "Two rooms, please."
"Aye, two rooms just upstairs, don't miss the meals. Those who come late to meals don't eat." Masha told them after she'd taken their coin. However, the smiles and mention of sweet cakes Catelyn remembered were nonexistent.
They climbed the stairs and went to their rooms and rested for a bit before the bell for dinner rang through the inn. Ser Rodrik came for Catelyn just as the bell ceased its voice. "We had best make haste if we hope to eat tonight, my lady."
The benches were not too crowded as only the travellers going for the tourney were there and all of them were from the houses that were loyal to the Tullys of Riverrun and Arryn of the Eyrie. Still more than half of the tables were full and the hall was lively.
Catelyn and Ser Rodrik sat at the last table down the hall and began eating silently but their peace did not last long as a bard began bombarding them with questions.
Ser Rodrik sent the bard away with polite words when he saw his lady's face getting restless. They continued to their meal but a while later, the door of the inn was banged. "Innkeep, we have horses that want stabling and my lord of Lannister requires a room and a hot bath."
"Oh gods," Ser Rodrik said before Catelyn reached out to silence him.
Masha Heddle was already wearing a smile on his face. "Of course, m'lord, I will send someone, immediately. It's dinner time, would you like a serving?"
There were four of them, Catelyn saw. An old man in the black of the Night's Watch, two knights… and him, standing there in his grand majesty. "I would be glad for a serving, it has been a long journey."
"Of course, my lord. I will bring it, immediately." Masha said, agitatedly.
Tyrion sat onto an empty bench with the knights and the watchmen and they begin chattering with each other but the carelessness of their voices was ringing through the inn as everyone was able to hear them.
"Fuckin' Freys must be the second richest house in Westeros. They had the gall to demand thirty golds from us to pass from their bridge. Thirty fuckin' golds!! It was a mistake for Lady Genna to marry one of them. Us, Lannisters of Lannisport would have been a better match." One of the Lannister knights opened his big mouth as soon as he sipped from his wine.
"Well, though what you say is true, it would be better for you to mind your words. We are not in Westerlands." the other knight said.
While they were talking, Catelyn heard grunting coming from the side table and when she turned her head, she saw a Frey man looking with an ugly look on his face. Indeed, Freys were greedy a lot but talking about them like this in Riverlands was not something good to do. Though considering them being Lannister pawns, Catelyn did not find it weird.
"Jeffroy should have been with us, his mouth could have beaten that bloody weasel-faced Freys." The knight begins laughing at his own joke.
"Aye, why did he even stay in Winterfell, besides, we did not see him when we were returning." the other knight said.
Catelyn's ears perked up hearing these words. Could the assassin be the man that was left in the Winterfell…
"Jaime had a job for him. I'm sure he is in King's Landing, already." the dwarf Lannister talked with weary eyes. "Enough of this chattering, eat quickly. I'm tired and need to rest." the knights nodded their heads and began eating, silently.
Catelyn confirmed her guess when she heard the dwarf's words. On the other hand, the Frey man beside her was already seething with anger and only, his friend's grip was keeping him from lashing out.
Catelyn looked in the eye to Ser Rodrik and motioned him to follow her. She raised herself from the table and walked up to the Lannister's table with slow but determined steps.
Tyrion's eyes caught the sight of Catelyn and a surprised look came to his face. "Lady Stark, what an unexpected pleasure," he said. "I was sorry to miss you at Winterfell." Murmurs broke out in the room at the sight of the daughter of Lord Tully.
"Lannister…" Catelyn replied with bitterness in her tongue. Then, she turned to the corner of the room. "You in the corner, " she said to an older man. "Is that the black bat of Harrenhal I see embroidered on your surcoat, ser?"
The man got to his feet. "It is, my lady."
"And is Lady Whent a true and honest friend to my father, Lord Hoster Tully of Riverrun?"
"She is," the man replied stoutly.
The dwarf was blinking at them with puzzlement in his mismatched eyes. True, he did not expect the Lady of Winterfell to be here but he did not get why he was addressing the other men in the room.
"The red stallion was ever a welcome sight in Riverrun," she said to the trio by the fire. "My father counts Jonos Bracken among his oldest and most leal bannermen."
The men exchanged uncertain looks. "Our lord is honoured by his trust," one of them said hesitantly.
She then turned to the seething man in the corner. "I know your sigil as well, sir: the twin towers of Frey. How fares your good lord, sers?"
The man rose and spoke with bitterness. "Lord Walder is well, my lady. Despite the curses of others, the bridge stands strong." His eyes were trained upon the Lannister men.
Tyrion Lannister snorted and that was when Catelyn knew the time had come. "This man came as a guest into my house and threw my son out of a tower with his siblings, a boy of seven. Though saved, my son did not remember anything but the fear in their hearts was not sated. You all heard them saying one of them was left in Winterfell. They sent an assassin after him just after the king left Winterfell." She proclaimed to the room at large, pointing. Ser Rodrik moved to her side, his sword in hand, already. "In the name of King Robert and the good lords you serve, I call upon you to seize him and help me to bring him to the king's justice."
She did not know what was more satisfying: the sound of a dozen swords drawn as one or the look on Tyrion Lannister's face.