Robert growled but with an effort of will contain his anger and shook his head. "Well, that's why your son was sent, after all."
"Indeed…" Ned sighed letting go a bit of his own anger in turn.
There was no point to getting angry at Robert. He certainly wasn't going to change his ways and the worst of it had been deflected thanks to Littlefinger's suggestion. If only I could figure out if that had been done for the good of the Kingdom and of the Crown or, in some fashion, for his own good.
Despite the several months they had been hearing King's Landing, Ned was no closer to figuring out where Littlefinger or the eunuch stood in relation to the Lannisters or the Baratheons or even their loyalty to the Crown itself. He suspected that Varys, at least, was loyal to the Crown, though that didn't necessarily apply equally to the person wearing it. Stability was what the eunuch wanted, though where that would take him, Ned did not know.
He sighed again shaking his head. "I really do have work, Robert." he said, making that little overture to patching the breach that had opened between them. "I might be able to get some time off in a week or so but we're going through the books for the Reach for the next few days. Renly and I are having issues with a few of the Lords down there. I might be sending out a few tax collecting parties if what we seem to be finding the books are accurate."
"Ha!" Robert guffawed. "Well, at least I don't have to deal with those paper pushers. All right, but I'll hold you to that, mark you. By the way," he went on slightly more serious. "I noticed you were training my boy up this morning. What you think of him?"
Ned saw that line for what it was and stared into Robert's suddenly serious eyes. Inwardly though, he was amused that Robert had called Tommen his son, something he had never done for any of the children before, they were always the 'queen's brats' before Tommen began to change thanks to Ranma's tutelage. "I think we should have that discussion in a few days as well." he murmured
"Good." Robert said firmly, nodding his head. He guffawed again. "Tommy might not look it, but he's certainly beginning to act more like a Baratheon should." He clapped Ned on the shoulder and, turning quickly, descended the stairs. Ser Selmy, as always guarding the King's back, stood there for a moment bowing his head to Lord Stark before following his King, a faint but noticeable smile appearing on his face as he turned away.
OOOOOOO
Elsewhere in the Red Keep, Littlefinger soon heard of this conversation. His one spy in the Hand's Tower had begun to act as the Jane-of-all-trades in the Tower, an act of forward-thinking that proved she was a very valuable agent indeed, one he would have to be careful to keep from harm.
"Now," he murmured to himself, "should I share this information and with whom? Or should I sit on it for a time?"
After a moment's thought Littlefinger decided to sit on it for a day or two, and then he would share it with his newest…pet project. It would be interesting to see the Prince's reaction after all.
With that decided, he turned back to writing out a few notes to send his factors in Dorne, specifically those anywhere near the castle Starfall, home of House Dayne. Something was nibbling at his mind, something about Jon Snow, the bastard Stark boy, and he had decided to find out who the bastard's mother had been.
He also made time that evening, to seek out the young Prince. After all influencing just one of the Princes was silly, especially with the way the winds were blowing. Regardless of what happened to his machinations to incite open violence between the Lannisters and the Starks, he wanted to be in a position to still have the heir's ear.
OOOOOOO
Ser Jorah looked up from exercising with a few of the guards as Daenerys Stormborn came out of the mansion, holding what looked like a large, well-made knife. It wasn't the first time he had seen her but all sign of injury was gone from her face now and her sheer presence took his breath away. "Your Highness," he said moving over to her quickly, "can we help you?"
Daenerys looked up at the giant bearded man. He was easily a foot taller than Domeric and wider in the shoulders to boot. "I wish to get some exercise; I have been sitting down or laying down for too long. Multiple convalescences will do you that to you."
She smiled thinly and Jorah winced. He had heard about what had happened between Daenerys and her brother soon after he arrived. Still, looking at the girl you would have to look closely to see any marks from her two beatings and, indeed, her beauty was incredible. More than once, Jorah had to stop himself from simply staring at her face from afar. Her body too, despite now being covered in an exercise mock (probably cut down from one of her guards-women's for her use), was also showing signs of what would become a magnificent womanhood.
Jorah was eager to see that, though he had to clench his teeth when he thought about her married to the Dothraki Khal. Even if she hadn't been, he knew that he was not even in a position to woo her. Still, he could watch from afar and he agreed with the plan Illyrio had thought up, in general. The Dothraki number and the speed of their armies would be impossible to stop.
Of course, Jorah had never been a field commander and, indeed, had only fought in a few battles so his perception was quite a bit skewed. Nor did he really understand tactics as a whole, the difference between light and heavy infantry, or what heavy cavalry could do to light cavalry like the barbarians. After all, most of the Dothraki didn't believe in wearing armor other than leather Jerkins nor did they train with or use lances for battle.
He watched as Daenerys moved over and began to do some calisthenics exercises, joined by Domeric who patiently walked her through how to hold her knife and how to use it. He would wait a while before teaching her how to use a sword, letting her muscles build up before that.
Domeric didn't notice Jorah's stares but Daenerys did and decided to keep her distance from the man. While she knew that many women would have been willing to use their bodies to gain an ally in her position, Daenerys was not. She would win allies through personality, friendship, and the rightness of her cause; she would not try to woo them with her body. Such was beneath a Princess and she was a Princess of the House of Targaryen.
OOOOOOO
Margaery sighed faintly in relief as High Garden finally came into view on the horizon. Her party was still several hours away but the end of the journey was in sight, at last. And what an interminable horror this journey has been, she thought to herself. Margaery had no trouble roughing it, as it were. She had gone on many horse riding expeditions when she was a young girl, after all.
No, what she objected to was the fact that Horas Redwyne had taken nearly every opportunity to try and sing her praise, or insinuate that Ranma wasn't worth her hand. He most certainly was, in every sense of the word, and this fool wasn't. For one thing, her grandmother was a Redwyne, which meant they were far too close to wed in terms of consanguinity, at least to her anyway. For another, there was no point. Redwyne was tied to Tyrell already and would remain so. And for another, the man was an idiot, who only saw her beauty and body, rather than her mind.
No, if I marry my husband needs to see more than my tits and ass, no matter how fantastic they are. He'll need to see my mind and appreciate that view as well. She thought sardonically to herself. Such terms should never have entered her highborn head of course, addressed so crassly anyway. But in the privacy of her mind, Margaery allowed herself such language at times.
Her thoughts were also much tarter these days because she was irritated with the knowledge that she was leaving Ranma behind where Myrcella could get at him. That little girl had far too much influence over her betrothed as it was.
Margaery still thought of Ranma as her betrothed, despite hearing word that her grandmother had called off formalizing said arrangement for the present, while their 'family crisis' continued. She hoped to persuade her grandmother to end that state of affairs, because, in her opinion, Joffrey was not only not going to be the Crown Prince for very much longer, if Lord Stark had his way, but was also not exactly a catch.
Beside her, Loras laughed, shaking his head, brunette locks bouncing in a way that many a maid would envy. "Are you that eager to see home, little sister?"
"Eager to get away from Ser Horas the Halfwit." She quipped, having already made certain that the man was out of earshot. "Have I thanked you lately for how often you have come to my rescue there?"
"It is a true knight's duty to rescue a lady from any harm she might come to. Even if that harm is simply having her ear talked off by a well-meaning, yet foolish young man."
"You have been working on being better at the diplomacy thing, haven't you?" Margaery murmured wickedly, shaking his head. "Who would've thought it?"
"Well, I am of House Tyrell, we're known for our words as well as our deeds, you know." Loras said, bowing from the saddle toward her causing Margaery to laugh. She looked down the road as the sound of horses hooves reached them.
Her guards closed ranks around her, but it turned out to only be her oldest brother. "Willas!" she cried happily, kicking her heals against her horses side, urging him forward.
Willas rode forward slowly, his lame leg always paining him on horseback, worse at higher speeds, nor was he anywhere near as comfortable as his siblings in the saddle. But he was still hale and hearty, and was among the kindest men that Margaery had known, despite his somber appearance, with a dark beard and deep-set, thoughtful eyes.
He folded Margaery into his arms kissing her on the cheek lovingly. "Welcome home, sister." He murmured. "You have been away for a while and from what I've heard." Willas went on, pulling back and looking at her. "Things in King's Landing are decidedly odd."
Margaery looked up at him shrewdly, standing back as well and the two of them moved over to the rest of the party, where her younger brother reached over to grab Willas's arm affectionately. "Brother." he said simply, smiling.
All the younger siblings had a great amount of affection for their oldest brother and respect as well. Even Loras, who really only had interest in martial endeavors, respected him. Willas was educated, insightful, calm, and, above all, kind, always making time for his younger siblings, though it was well known that he had a special soft spot for Margaery. As should be the case. The Knight of Roses thought amusingly. One daughter among all of the siblings? Of course she'll be the apple of all our eyes.
"So…" Willas said in his soft tones, looking at his sister and waving away the other knights, indicating he wanted to talk to his siblings alone. As heir to House Tyrell, he was of course obeyed, even by the knight who wished to make himself seem presentable enough to earn Margaery's hand. "From your perspective sister, tell me what has been going on in that chamber pot of a city."
"That's a loaded question." Margaery said, looking at him closely. "Is this for you or are you simply prepping me for our grandmother?"
Willis laughed quietly, shaking his head. "In part I suppose, but even if I prefer to spend all my time with my hawks and dogs, and my horses of course." He patted his horse on the neck affectionately, making the magnificent roan wicker in pleasure. "I do know that I have duty to prepare myself to take over from Father. Though I do hope that time is far in the future of course."
Actually, Willas was well thought of by his grandmother, despite the fact that they sometimes disagreed on political matters and even other things at times. Olenna Redwyne was and had always been of the opinion that her son-in-law wasn't very intelligent and certainly wasn't that good of a leader but her firstborn grandson, at the very least, had the makings of one.
"Where to begin..." Margaery muttered, stroking her chin thoughtfully as the party continued. "I suppose I should begin by saying that Ranma and Lord Stark are not… quite what I expected. Yes, Lord Stark is rather a stiff-necked individual, especially when it comes to matters of honor, but he's also quite cagey. Did you know that he had asked for the Blackfish to join them in King's Landing?"
Willas's eyes narrowed. He had met Brynden Tully at one point, before the disastrous tourney in which he had maimed his leg falling under his horse after being deposited on the dirt by Prince Oberyn's lance. While not as well read as other people might be, Blackfish was able to discern things about people far more quickly than most would've liked. "Interesting. That speaks well of his planning, at least. Go on."
"I wasn't able to truly earn their confidence, though I think it was coming close with Ranma, at the very least, before I was called away. But they definitely think there is something going on, something suspicious about the former Hand's death. What that could be I don't know nor did they truly seem to be have any clear idea."
"And this Ranma fellow? What did you think of him?"
Margaery went into detail about Ranma, emphasizing his blunt manner as well as his extreme intelligence before going on to his martial skills. At that point, she handed the conversation over to Loras, who went into greater detail on that topic. Through it all, Willas asked few questions but spent most of his time simply searching his siblings' faces, frowning faintly, not worriedly, but contemplatively.
That interview was somewhat easy for Margaery. Her meeting with her grandmother later that evening did not. She sat across from Olenna on a small stool made more for a child than a young woman, while Olenna reclined in a soft stuffed chair.
Her grandmother's wrinkly face was almost hidden by the shadow of the torches set into walls behind her in Olenna's private study. "You were supposed to entwine the Crown Prince with your vines, my dear." she said, coldly. "You were not supposed to be enchanted in turn by this Stark boy."
"What makes you think I was, grandmother?" Margaery said scoffing.
"The fact that you only spent a few hours a day with Joffrey, even at the very beginning and increasingly spent as much time away from him as you could. The fact you spent so much time talking about this Ranma fool right now and that we have not heard any hint of the Queen, at the very least, pushing to change Joffrey's marriage from the Stark girl to you!"
Margaery frowned angrily. "It's true that the more time I spent with Joffrey the less I wanted to be around him but that alone should have told you something." Margaery looked to her side to stare at Septa Nysterica where she sat on a much more comfortable chair, wondering what the other woman had told Olenna.
Nysterica stared back defiantly. She had done her duty to the family that she was sworn to. It wasn't her fault that Margaery had forgotten her own duty.
"Regardless," her grandmother growled, "you put us in a dangerous position girl, seeming to join sides with the Starks against the Lannisters."
"I don't know about that one." Margaery said truthfully, shaking your head. "The Queen certainly wasn't interested in pushing for her son to wed me rather than Sansa. Oh, I think she might've been open to it at first. But she was too deeply involved in whatever is going on the Small Counsel to really spend time pushing the King away from his position on that marriage, which, I learned, is something of a dream for him, his homage to the memory of Lyanna Stark."
That caused her grandmother's eyes to narrow. "What can you tell me about that? How much influence have the Starks gained and the Lannisters lost?"
"Hasn't Loras reported anything? His friendship with Renly should at least have told him something." Margaery asked, giving her some time to think.
"Nothing beyond the normal power struggles that go on whenever a new Hand is chosen." Olenna scoffed, waving her hand. "Stark's overreaching, he doesn't have enough men in King's Landing nor the right sort to protect himself if things go to pot, and they will. Still, tell me what you can."
"I can only speak from what I have seen, grandmother." Margaery warned, before going into detail on what she had seen of the power struggle going on. She ended by saying "And while Lord Stark might not truly know friends from enemies just yet, it would not surprise me in the slightest if he had more resources on hand then his enemies know about."
Olenna nodded thoughtfully, having asked a few questions here and there, but mostly taken her granddaughter's words in silently. "Hmmf, well no one has ever said that as a general he wasn't decent, at least, but this isn't his kind of fight. Regardless, you'll be safe here."
"Safe from what?" Margaery exclaimed, angrily shaking her head, losing her normal self-control for a moment, the better to get her points across. "Who in their right mind would risk angering House Tyrell by harming me, let alone could get through the guards I had and Loras too! All you did was remove one of the most important of our House's political pieces from where I could do the most good! I was influencing Ranma, not the other way around. Yes, I didn't want to get close to Joffrey. Yes, something about him bothers me! You haven't even met that boy, grandmother. There is something wrong about him! That is as plain as I can put it! There were rumors. I know you don't want to hear about them but if they had any substance to them…" she shook her head.
"All the more reason for you to have played them both off against one another." her grandmother growled. "Besides…" she shook her head. "Like I said in my message, the brighter the candle, the faster it burns out. This Ranma Stark is heading for a burnout, as is House Stark in King's Landing. Whether that will spill over to the rest of their House I don't know, but you are well out of it now."
Margaery sighed, sagging back on her stool with a shake of her head. "I think you're wrong but I obviously can't change your opinion. I will say, however, that any physical confrontation with Ranma will end horribly for the opposing side."
"She's right." Loras nodded from where he was leaning against a nearby wall. He never came near his grandmother if he could help it, her opinion of him and his being a knight was acidic at best, but he couldn't get out of not being here at all. "You didn't see him utterly destroy the Mountain, grandmother, it was staggering. Jaime Lannisters may be the best known swordsman in the land but he is no longer the best and I don't think he's even within spitting distance."
"The Seven save me from fools!" Olenna growled. "Then the solution is simple, you young idiots." She went on, lifting up a message from one of her agents in King's Landing. Simply remove the boy and place him on something that can be destroyed easily."
"What do you mean?" Margaery asked, going cold inside. While she would have scoffed at the idea of her being madly in love with Ranma or anything of that nature, she was firm friends with him, with more very possible in the future, and any threats to him like that was not something she wanted to hear.
"Your Ranma Stark has been sent on wild dragon chase, apparently. It was a closely kept secret so obviously it only took a few days for it to be noted by practically everyone but he was sent after something in Essos. And unless he can swim hundreds of miles, I daresay that something dangerous will happen to him and the ship he's on."
Mace spoke up now, for the first time of the evening. He had been content to let Olenna talk, for the most part, but this he was more interested in. "Besides, Tywin is ready to move against the Starks. I've read reports and I think he's going to try to break up 'the pack' so to speak, kill each of them in turn. Hah, but he doesn't want to face us at the same time and has taken steps to make certain we don't move against him since he knows we could smash him in the open field! Specifically," he tapped another missive, a formal raven tube with the sigil of Casterly Rock on it, "he has opened talks between House Lannister and House Tyrell to marry you to his heir, Tyrion."
To her credit, it wasn't the thought of the Imp's well-known deformity or his japery that made Margaery blanch. No, that was caused by how good a match that was from her family's perspective. It was with a sinking stomach that she realized she was well and truly boxed in and had lost any way to help her friend.
"Ah, it's just a delaying tactic." Olenna cackled, having watched her closely. "After all, if Tywin removes the Starks, he'll no doubt 'accidentally' have something happen to Sansa; such a shame the girl got caught up in her father's machinations but…" She shook her head again. "Pity, she's a valuable piece but one too likely to turn in the hand. No, the marriage will be cancelled one way or another, regardless of Robert's feelings about it. Heh, we might be able to put a crown on your head eventually, girl!"
Margaery carefully kept her scowl off her face but silently vowed to kill Joffrey in their marriage bed if such a thing came to pass. There were some things that she would never do, even for her family.
Olenna could tell her granddaughter was unhappy about that and shook her head mentally. The girl had obviously more feelings for the Stark boy than she wanted to let on but Olenna had no doubt she would do her duty. "That is all: leave me now, both of you."
From his position by the window, where he had been looking out over the castle while still listening to everything that went on, Willas turned to watch as his two younger siblings left, then looked at his grandmother and father. "While I think you are correct in removing Margaery from King's Landing, perhaps we should think about sending Loras back."
He held up a hand calmly as Mace seem to ready to explode on him. "Regardless of what else is happening, we could use a person on the ground there and our friendship with House Baratheon through Renly is strong. We should be there to back him up, at least, and take what advantage we can if the worst comes to pass. Robert's friendship with Lord Stark is strong and there is no way to know what he will do if open combat occurs between Stark and Lannister nor how far Tywin is prepared to go to regain his House's influence in court."
Mace frowned thoughtfully and his grandmother nodded sharply. "Loras will go back in two days, and will remain there while we think about what to do with Margaery's hand."
Mace left soon after that, leaving Willas alone with his grandmother. "There is one other point I feel should be said, grandmother, one you and father both missed, even Margaery missed it. As impossible as it sounds, what if House Stark survives? What if the wolves are able to win out? They'll be in a stronger position than ever and they won't forget that you, that House Tyrell, pulled away when it seemed that they might be in danger. Their honor will compel them to never trust us again and we will have missed a massive opportunity."
His grandmother scowled at that but it was thoughtful scowl and she tapped one finger on the table, thinking hard, while Willas bowed his way out.
OOOOOOO
The village was small, with nothing to denote it from any other hundred or so small villages scattered hither and yon over the Riverlands, a true one horse town, or so it would be called in another dimension. Unfortunately for its denizens, it was also near the border between the Riverlands and the Westerlands, as well as defenseless.
This made it a perfect target for the Mummers, who had descended upon it like a horde of locusts, if locusts came to pillage and rape rather than merely eat you out of house and home. A few hardy villagers had escaped but not many. Of course that too was part of the plan, after all to bait the trap you had to make the prey aware of the bait in the first place.
OOOOOOO
"Damn it, it's like the Kingswood Brotherhood mad Aerys had to deal with! Well, I'll be damned if I let a bandit army operate so openly like this!" Robert pounded the table in front of the small council, irritated beyond all reason by the messages that had reached the Red Keep from the villages and small holdings along the border between Westerlands and Riverlands, reports that had demanded a very early meeting of the small council, including the King himself. "Where did they come from, by the Seven, they must know the mountains between Riverlands and Westerlands like the backs of their hands to move so many men around without using the main passes!"
"My father might have been slow to respond to the threat but I have no doubt that forces are already on their way to deal with these bandits if they remain on the Westerlands side of the borders. My father has short shrift with such men. Though we also must respond, especially if these bandits keep working the border like they are. What they plan to do in the long term I don't know but such men seldom think that far." Cersei frowned from her place, her face a mask of cold fury at the idea of these bandits, though in reality she knew precisely what they were.
Indeed, she had been given her marching orders to say that very thing. Cersei hated being ordered around like that but at least her father had given grudging approval for what she had been doing of late, even if he ignored her advice in that same message by acting in such a manner to redress the loss of Gregor and their continuing loss of influence.
"We'll have to squash this, true." Robert groused. "We don't want other bandits popping up with the same idea elsewhere. How many men can we pull from the garrison here in King's Landing?"
"We could pull some six-hundred easily enough." Ned said after a moment, the various nobles and knights here could easily muster that number. "That plus any forces coming out of the Riverlands and whatever Lord Lannister sends should be able to run these bandits to ground, no matter where they hide."
From his place, Littlefinger frowned, wondering if this was an overt move, a prelude for a larger, bloodier game against the wolves or if it had been made merely to draw Ranma out from the city to where he could be overwhelmed, removing his influence on Tommen before moving against the other Starks. If so, Lord Tywin missed the mark but I can use this just as well as the Lannisters can. It isn't Lord Stark that is most dangerous one here at the moment, at least to me. That would be Brynden, who is getting dangerously close to realizing how much true influence I have throughout the city. If he finds the dummy merchant houses where I've laundered the money I've taken from the loans from the Iron Bank, it will go poorly for me rather quickly.
"We should think of who to command them carefully." he murmured. "You're right that the force will be large enough to do the job but the commander will have to be someone all portions of the force can respect and who is diplomatic enough not to step on any toes. Might I suggest the Blackfish?"
Eddard very carefully did not jump on Littlefinger hard for that suggestion. Once again, he didn't know if that suggestion was just a suggestion with Petyr simply trying to look out for the best interest of the kingdom. After all, Brynden was truly an able commander, an expert scout, and leader of light infantry and cavalry. He also wondered if Petyr was beginning to feel the pressure from something Brynden was doing.
Beyond that, Eddard was resolved not to lose his ally. "I don't think so. After all, he would be seen as a representative of the Riverlands. No, we need to stamp a Royal signature on this, though I will send ten of my own men and twenty of the men from Riverrun led by Ser Desmond Grell to serve under whoever we assign to the command."
At those words, Petyr subsided, knowing he couldn't push farther without bringing more suspicion on him.
Robert grunted in acknowledgment and thought hard for a moment before nodding. "I'd love to go myself but I get the impression I won't be allowed to." He pouted outrageously. "I never get any fun." he muttered.
A polite chuckle made its way around the table but Ser Selmy spoke up seriously. "We cannot afford to lose you, Your Majesty, and no one is arrow proof. The chaos of war respects no crown."
"Then I think Ser Thoros and Ser Dondarrion should go." Robert said swiftly, as in his element here while talking about battle and commanders as he wasn't talking politics or anything else. "Thoros is a good friend, an able warrior, and known ally of the Crown, while Dondarrion is an upcoming blade of the Stormlands known to be well thought of in court. Experience on one side and diplomacy on the other. Both of them will have the King's Remit as well, and will be able to command whoever is sent by either the Riverlands or Westerlands."
The small counsel thought for a moment then all of them nodded one after the other. "I would prefer to send one of the Kingsguard but, of them all, only my brother and Ser Selmy have real command experience. The commander obviously can't be sent and my brother would, despite his positions as a Kingsguard, be seen as representative of the Westerlands." Cersei said. "If you believe Ser Thoros and Dondarrion can handle this, I won't suggest anyone else."
And neither will be missed either, she thought to herself. Cersei was still hopeful of playing a soft game but of late she had decided to put into place her own plans, just in case. With her father's missive open warfare seemed a much more certain thing.
She looked slightly past the King at her cousin, sighing internally with revulsion as she thought of one particular scheme she had thought up as a contingency. Hopefully, it won't come to that. After all, even if, as I am almost certain will be the case, Joffrey is passed over eventually and Tommen is named heir, he is still my son and Ned seems more and more certain that he is Robert's true heir. That will protect me and I can sacrifice someone else, if push comes to shove, to cover myself in Joffrey's case. Regardless, he will live as my son and I can make some sort of deal there to keep my oldest cub's head on his shoulders.
This thinking was part and parcel of the Queen's greatest fault. She loved fiercely but it was a possessive love, a controlling love and, alas, she did not realize that the tools and the people she loved might have their own plans. Nor did she realize that her own needs might not be as important as their own.
At the moment it didn't much matter and the King snorted as if the Queen's impression of fighting men or commanders was worth anything, sneering at the very idea. "In that case," Robert said getting to his feet, "I'll find Sir Thoros and the rest of you can get to organizing the expedition."
The small counsel rose as one to bow to the King as he and the Queen left, Cersei not having anything to contribute to such a discussion. That discussion didn't last long. The logistics, thanks to the city, its stores, and storehouses was easy enough and within two days, a force of six-hundred, mostly mounted light infantry and heavy cavalry in the form of knights and their retainers, marched out of the city.
OOOOOOO
The Queen frowned as she strode off, having left the King while he went in search of his drinking partner, Thoros. Though just this side of a roaring drunkard, there was no doubt he was an able commander of men, so long as he remained sober. Still, how likely that was, she didn't know. Of course, the 'bandits' are only part of the problem he'll face. I wish my father hadn't taken this step, though from his perspective, it makes sense and, if Ranma were here, it would possibly have even worked out well enough to…remove him from play.
That thought made Cersei's frown deepen slightly but she pushed that to the side. She could not allow her thoughts on Ranma Stark and how much she actually… liked the boy, despite being a Stark, to color her responses to her father's actions. Cersei knew why he had set this in motion and agreed with the need to curtail House Stark's growing influence. Still, a part of Cersei was thankful that Ranma would not be caught in this trap. She doubted that anything Ranma ran into chasing down the Targaryen siblings would be nearly as dangerous as the trap Tywin had laid out.
And it still removes a few of the King's most staunch supporters. Cersei reasoned. Both of them would certainly back Robert's chosen Hand should anything occur here in King's Landing. And it well might. I know Eddard is still looking into Jon Arryn's death and, though I have no idea how close he is to finding out how Jon died, I know Eddard is suspicious of how unlike their 'father' my children are. Ranma was actually a help there. With him taking an interest in Tommen, he's changed him enough so that my little cub seems to be a stag.
Entering the Royal suites in the holdfast, Cersei looked up as a maid, one of the ones assigned nearly full time to her daughter, came up to her. The maid's expression was a mix of the normal servant's mask, amusement, and a hint of what Cersei could only think of as commiseration. "Your Majesty, the Princess requests your presence in her room." She moved close and went on in a whisper. "Her highness has had her first bleeding this morning."
Cersei nodded, her face a mask, though she now knew where the amusement and commiseration in the maid's face came from. Cersei's thoughts however were much more serious, wondering if this would add to her current troubles, not matter at all, or aid her in some fashion.
OOOOOOO
"Our main target is no longer in the city." one man murmured to another as they were forced, as if by happenstance to share a pillar of in upscale whorehouse in the capital.
"True." said the other man thoughtfully, tapping his glass, his eyes quickly moving from place to place, making certain that none of the highly paid concubines in this brothel could overhear the two men. After all, the best way to keep his secret was for no one to know about it. And despite the fact that they were whores, that didn't mean they didn't have ears. "We missed him by at least a week."
"So, change targets to the secondary one?" The first asked lifting a mug of wine to his lips.
"Yes, I believe we should." the second said. "Tomorrow?"
"Well, the secondary and tertiary will be meeting in one of their safe houses the day after tomorrow. That will do nicely for me."
"Indeed, I on the other hand, will need to wait and watch for a time."
The two professional assassins nodded to one another. After a moment, one moved over to a sofa vacated by a whore and her client while the other sighed sadly making his way over to the matron of the place and paid his shot, shrugging his shoulders as if to say he had run out of free time.
Neither man had noticed that one of the whores had stopped in the doorway leading to the kitchenette area behind where they had been leaning against the pillar. I think Alayaya will want to hear about this.
OOOOOOO
Two days later Ned and Brynden were down at the Mountain Honey, meeting with a rather swarthy looking sailor in the backroom of the alehouse. He was a former Valeman who had migrated north and joined up with a crew out of White Harbor. He was the go-between with the captain of the ship that Lord Manderly had sent southward to provide a ready escape for Ned and his family if needed. The fact that it also had a crew of a hundred and eighty men aboard, all of whom, despite being sailors, were also men-at-arms was a bonus.
The ship's reason for remaining in port was a simple one and easy to understand. It was a chartered vessel, but the captain's current employer had yet to pay him for their last job, and the captain refused to leave on the next until they were paid.
If anyone looked into it, they would find that the lord the ship was chartered to, a middling level Vale lord, was in debt and couldn't pay for it. But the captain had no way of knowing that, going by the correspondence he regularly received from his current employer, whose pride would never allow him to say he was penniless..
Ned and Brynden were filling the man in on some failsafe plans to pass on, verbally, to the captain when they were interrupted by the tavern master knocking on the door in the signal for a serious business. In his hand, he held a note wrapped in red cloth. Both Ned and Brynden's eyes widened at that, and the man passed over to them quickly before leaving.
Ned waited several minutes before opening the note. He smiled faintly at the rather rough script. While the whore Alayaya could read and write, thanks to her mother teaching her so she could help her with the books, her writing style left much to be desired. Still, it was legible enough, nor was there a problem with the mind behind it. 'Two assassins were seen talking to one another about a target being out of the city and switching to a secondary target. Since this was only a week after Ranma left, we might assume it mean you. Be on your guard, Hand.'
The two men looked at one another, then left quickly. The sailor would wait another few hours and then exit the inn in the company of one of the barmaids.
As they passed through the public drinking area, Brynden made a specific signal, holding his pinky and forefinger with his thumb and wiggling his hand in the direction of the table where several men from Riverrun had been waiting for him to leave before following him as usual. The squad of six quickly stood up and made their way over. "There might be an assassin or possibly two looking for myself and Lord Stark." the Blackfish said quietly. "Be on your guard; we will be heading back to the Red Keep now."
"And from now on," he said looking over Lord Stark, "you're going to stay there, Ned."
"Agreed, unfortunately." Eddard replied with a grimace. This world of assassins and shady dealings was foreign to him but he was becoming adept in moving through it. I just wish I could convince myself that was a good thing.
Despite these precautions, one of the assassins had already moved into position near the Mountain Honey alehouse, high up on the roof of a nearby tanning hall. It was a little over four stories tall and allowed him a vantage point down into the road that led from the Keep down to the alehouse.
Seeing his targets come out, he sighted down his specially made crossbow, a very expensive one, whose use and his own skill with it was why he could command such high prices. Of course, his fellow assassin was almost as good with his little knife but given the fact that both of their secondary and tertiary targets tended to wear armor most of the time, the sniper believed he had a much better shot at fulfilling their task in the capital.
He frowned suddenly, noticing the six men with Riverrun colors circling around his targets. Still, they didn't have nearly enough of an angle to block him from shooting down at the two men. He closed one eye again sighting down the line of his crossbow; waiting until the tip of the bolt was pointed directly at Ned Starks face, then moved slightly forward, leading him along the road. He waited a moment as he got used to his target's pace, allowing him to correctly estimate his position. He breathed in, then out and then fired.
One of the men from Riverrun was named Ernest. He had particularly good ears and large ones; it was a point of japery for his fellow men-at-arms. They were always making fun of him for having 'the most honest ears in the country'. At this point, however, they served him well because he heard the faint twang in the air of a crossbow being fired over the general hubbub of the city. Decided to err on the side of caution, he pushed both his Lord's brother and Lord Stark down to the ground, throwing his body over them.
Even as Ernest's fellows gaped in shock at his sudden action, the crossbow bolt smashed into the paving stones after passing through where Ned Stark's head would have been. Two of the men-at-arms immediately turned and traced the quarrel's trajectory. Looking up at the tanner's rooftop, they could see a man moving away quickly. Both of them raced towards the building, one towards the front of the Hall, the other to the back in an effort to cut the man off.
"My thanks, Ernest." Brynden said, pushing himself to his feet after Ernest moved off him.
Ned, too, got to his feet, nodding in thanks to the man who had just saved his life. "What do you think the chances are that they will be able to catch that man?"
"Off of the main streets, the city is a warren. If the man knows where he's going, I doubt they'll be able to catch them." Brynden replied sadly.
"Damn." Ned said shaking his head. So, someone with a lot of money wants my son and I dead? I wonder why… Lord Stark suddenly snorted slightly, shaking his head. Spoiled for choice really, just wish there was some way to figure out which of the reasons apply. He shook his head, wondering what his son was doing just then and how long it would take a message from the Tower to get back to him. All he knew was that this was only the beginning.
OOOOOOO
Ranma ducked under a lunge from his bonded direwolf, who skittered along on the wooden deck for a moment before his claws found purchase. Fenris turned, his teeth bared as he lunged again. The two were roughhousing at the moment, Ranma not really having much of anything to do aboard the ship. Even though he had offered to help, Ranma didn't know enough about sailing so he had been turned down. Apparently, you needed a lot more knowledge then could be taught in a few days to be a help rather than a hindrance.
Ranma thought he probably could've learned enough to be of help but he wasn't about to push it. He didn't really trust the crew, not after Fenris had killed those two assassins or whatever they had been. However, he had made it known that the two girls were under his production, which had allowed the both of them to come out about their sex, much to the relief of Arianne who had been suffering quite a bit thanks to her given disguise. There was only so long she could have gone wrapping her chest the way she had to.
The thought of the Dornish Princess brought a frown to Ranma's face even as he grabbed Fenris in a headlock, then began to noogie the direwolf mercilessly until he was lifted off his feet and thrown through the air with a growl. He laughed, landing easily on his feet before he was pounced upon by Fenris and borne to the deck.
Even as he wrestled with his direwolf, Ranma's thoughts remained on the Princess. The girl had not stopped in her attempts to use her body to influence his thoughts, always asking Ranma what he was going to do with the Targaryen children, never ceasing in her daily attempts to get close to him, to flirt with him. With his protection of her and Obara, they had both gone back to wearing their normal clothing and this had allowed Arianne to use her charms. Arianne didn't seem to understand that very insistence and the way she was so open with her sexuality, drove Ranma off.
It wasn't like with Alayaya who was equally beautiful but preferred simple closeness, more of a soft sell than an overt one. Alayaya had simply been looking for a good time and, though Ranma might have imagined it, he thought she might have simply liked Ranma for himself and the sheer mystery of the Rock Hurler persona he had taken on.
It was also different from Margaery who, after getting to know Ranma, didn't make a point of her good looks, simply befriending him. She never used her body to try and get something out of him, save for a few times jokingly during chess games. Myrcella, for all her crush on him (Ranma was still of the opinion it would fade in time), would never think of using her body in such a manner.
And although Cersei had, she never acted so obviously. But like the Queen, Arianne wanted something from him and was using her body as a weapon to get it, yet far more directly and more, well, seriously than the Queen. Cersei seemed to have simply seen it as a game after their talk at the inn, knowing nothing more could come from it.
Arianne on the other hand didn't know enough about him to like him as an individual, she simply liked the fact that he was powerful and could help her ambitions and that of her family and had already done so by killing the Mountain. She made no bones about the fact that act had been the one to really get her interested in him.
Frankly, she sort of reminded him of a mix between Shampoo and Kodachi, though why he couldn't quite say. Maybe it was the mix of her sexual nature and imperious attitude when dealing with the sailors. Kodachi could be like that, he thought to himself, always sure of herself and her so-called noble family.
Ranma was suddenly forced to take his fight with Fenris a little more seriously when he found himself almost on his back with Fenris gnawing playfully at his shoulder. Fenris had long gotten used to the fact that his human was quite a bit more durable than most and that impacted what he could do during their play. So Ranma put aside his thoughts, simply enjoying his time with Fenris, the sun and the sea, and the moving waves around them. Despite missing Myrcella, Sansa, Tommen, Brynden, and his father deeply, the time away from the court was just what the doctor ordered.
Two days later, this idyllic time was interrupted by a hail from the lookout up in the crow's nest. "Sail ho!" A moment later his voice came back, now sounding almost terrified. "Ironborn! It's one of their damn longships, can't mistake that shape!"
Ranma stood up quickly, heading towards the room that had been given to him that he had turned over to the two women, though he still left his weapons there. He passed by the merchant captain and asked quizzically, "I thought the Ironborn had given over their raiding and isn't this rather far afield for them?"
"They go where the waves can take them, the black hearted bastards." The Captain grunted, looking worried, though he smiled at Fenris and Ranma for the first time on this voyage. He hadn't liked the big beast since it had boarded his ship and the northern prince also worried him in some way. But now they might just prove their worth. "I trust we can call on you to help aid us when they try to board us?"
"Sure." Ranma said with a shrug. "Though, if they come close enough, I might be able to stop them from boarding at all."
Seconds later, he was in the room where Arianne and Obara spent most of their time aboard the ship. Obara was asleep until the door banged open, causing her to jolt awake quickly, her hand going to her short sword, laid out on the bed next to her. "What?"
Arianne had been sitting at the small table, one hand using a brush on her hair as she stared at her image thoughtfully. The fact that she was wearing a white silk negligée that showed off her body to great effect was not lost on Ranma but he ignored it. I'm getting as good at that in this lifetime as I was in the last, he thought to himself amusingly. Only this time it's actually on purpose!
He quickly made his way over to the sea-chest where he had stored his gear, pulling on the greaves and chest plate of his armor. He scowled a little as he flexed his shoulders irritably. The plate armor was simply a little too cumbersome for his tastes and he debated taking it off but decided against it. Then he reached in pulling out his two katars, sliding them into the special sheaths at his lower back, before looking at his katana, before shaking his head and leaving it where it lay.
"What's going on?" Arianne asked quickly.
"Ironborn. You two should stay here unless you have a sudden hankering to become sea wives, I think they call them? Raping, slaving bastards." He said grimly shaking his head. "Never understood why Theon thought that was such an honorable occupation."
"Theon…" Arianne muttered, even as she raced over to her own sea-chest pulling on her most practical clothing, which incidentally covered her body completely, also hiding a few small holdout knives. "That would be that Greyjoy heir that was taken to Winterfell to ensure the Ironborn did not rebel again?"
"That's him." Ranma nodded. "He's a friend but he had some truly odd ideas of what was honorable and what wasn't until I sorted him out."
"And how did manage that?" Obara asked looking up from where she had just pulled on sailors pantaloons. "From what I know of the Ironborn, they have nothing but disdain for anyone else and their idea of 'paying the iron price' is a central part of their culture."
"By dangling him out a window as we talked philosophy." Ranma said, shrugging. "It worked."
Both women gaped at him for a moment then laughed as he turned away, racing back out of the room. "You might not be making much headway in influencing him but at least it's been an amusing trip." Obara muttered, shaking her head.
Arianne shrugged. A few days ago she would've said it was only a matter of time until she broke the young man's self-control down but Arianne had been thinking the past day or so that it simply wasn't going to happen. Something about the way she was going about it seemed to put Ranma off, though she couldn't figure out what. She was simply acting as a woman of Dorne would when trying to woo a man and she had never run into a man who would be unwilling to give in.
And then there was her fear of Fenris. Something about him touched off a deeply hidden fear in her; the giant wolf was simply too smart and far too large. Thankfully, Fenris didn't seem to care one way or another about her or her flirting with his master. Still, Arianne was beginning to think she might need to look out for other opportunities when they arrived in Pentos.
Outside, Ranma had quickly joined the crewmen who were being handed out weapons from the weapons locker. He grabbed up a bow and a bundle of arrows tied together by twine, noticing that none of them actually had quivers; there weren't enough arrows on board for everyone to have one. Still, he moved over and looked at the incoming Ironborn ship, stretching the bow out and getting a feel for the pull of it.
It was a hell of a lot lighter than he would've wanted. Even Edd, who was the weakest of the wolfsworn, would've turned his nose up at it and Theon would've used it for kindling rather than an actual weapon. He looked over at the captain and shook his head. "You should probably fire whoever bought you your weapons. These are pathetic."
"Most of the Essos city states frown on free traders being heavily armed. If you need protection, you pay for one of their galleons to escort you to and fro or join a merchants' guild." the older man growled. "These are the best I could get away with."
"Lovely." Ranma muttered, pulling back on the bowstring with an arrow already notched as he sighted along it at the incoming ship. He couldn't fire at the distance he wished to and, despite what Theon thought, Ranma had almost as good an eye for this as Theon and was far stronger. But the bow simply wouldn't be able to withstand the strain.
He frowned further as the Ironborn longship came into range, pulling up their sail, going to full oars. Like the Vikings back on Earth, the longships of the Ironborn were low to the water in comparison to a trade cog, slim and fast moving through the water under either oars or sail. Despite the captain's best efforts they were not going to out run them, the cog could not move under sail as quickly as the Ironborn longship could under oars, nor could it move under oars itself for any length of time.
That didn't mean the captain was going to make it easy for the reavers however. He was able to keep away from them for an hour, but then the Ironborn ship was within Ranma's range.