Jon V
Lomas Egremont had probably expected a meeting with Robert about the laws of the land to be more drinking session than a serious discussion. Jon had to remind himself that this was most likely the reason the man seemed unprepared.
"I couldn't tell you exactly," he responded to Robert's question. "I wouldn't anticipate many changes, however. King Jaeherys was famously wise, after all, so who would presume to amend his laws?"
"Practically everyone," observed the King. "And the codified laws aren't necessarily on hand in every keep."
"Well, books are expensive and I'd imagine you know how hard it is to get a boy to learn his letters."
"I recall, yes." The king sighed and pushed the wine flagon across the table to Lomas. "One of the lads printing off forms for our records had a bright idea. Instead of a singlestamphe thinks we can assemble a page out of letters locked into a tray of some kind.... well, I don't quite follow, but in any case, with a little time and not needing to make a new stamp we can print different pages and eventually entire books."
Jon hissed. "Oh the septons will hate that. Their copyists make them a great deal of money and if books can be made easily and cheaply..."
"And do they pay taxes on that?" asked Robert mildly. "No, I didn't think so. A tax on these page stampers or whatever they get called should reduce the margin they get undercut on and it'll add a nice little trickle of revenue to the treasury."
"I see your mind's made up?"
"As I recall, the Smith is one of the Seven-That-Are-One. That sounds to me as if being creative and industrious is down-right pious."
Lomas rolled his eyes. "I suppose then, that you'll be circulating this updated laws of the realm as widely as you can?"
"There's no point in there being laws if the men of Westeros don't know of them so they can abide by them - and their lords know to enforce them." Robert grinned at his Master of Laws. "If we do a good job of this, your name may be revered as much as King Jaeherys' was."
"I hardly think that that's likely."
There was a knock at the door and a servant opened it. "Your grace, Lord Bolton requests an audience."
Robert pushed his chair back. "Send him in."
The northerner entered and bowed coolly before sweeping the room with those pale eyes of his. "Your grace, I see I have arrived before the Spider."
"Varys? Why would he be coming here?"
"I would assume the Master of Whispers would think you ought be informed that one of Lord Corbray's fleet has returned to King's Landing. I have placed guards around the dock but no doubt rumours are already sweeping the city."
The king's eyes narrowed dangerously. "What news do you have, Lord Bolton?"
"It seems the fleet was scattered by a ferocious storm some nights ago. Quite a number of the ships were sunk and others took damage that forced them to ports along the south of Blackwater Bay."
Lomas gasped. "Lord Stannis? Lord Lyonel?"
"They have not been heard from, Lord Estermont."
"Your grace, this is -"
Robert raised his hand calmly. "This is merely the first news. I will not be panicked by the report of one captain. Lord Bolton, I take it you will have no difficulty bringing him here to report in person?"
"None, your grace. He is currently in one of the antechambers, under guard."
"If the fleet has been smashed, then..."
"Then we have faced a reverse, but no more than that." Robert rose. "King's Landing is well defended and since not all the ships being prepared were taken by Lord Corbray, we have the seeds of a second fleet if need be. I will inform Renly - no doubt some courtier will want to drop hints to scare him so it is best he know the truth now - and then the two of us will meet with the captain."
He turned to Bolton. "I believe King's Landing has a Seneschal who can keep the smallfolk quiet whatever rumours circulate the inns. Am I wrong."
Bolton bowed again. "My men have been suitably instructed."
"Admirable. We will continue this conversation later, uncle Lomas, once you have had time to consider the proposal more fully."
Stannis V
The crowds that flocked to the docks and cheered the royal fleet on its return from Dragonstone was unbelievable. Stannis had heard that there were half a million people in King's Landing (and according to Robert, about half that many actual souls). At first glance he thought that every last one of them was on the docks or the walls above.
On second glance, it was only about the size of the Reach army that had besieged Storm's End, which was probably about one tenth of the city's population.
"What do they think they're doing?" he snarled. "We can't dock like this!"
"I think they're hailing you as a hero," Ser Davos replied cheerfully. "We can anchor off the docks until things calm down. Why not give them wave?"
Stannis shot him an infuriated look.
"Oh, there's the King."
"What?" He scanned the docks but could see nothing but small folk, barely kept in check by the combined efforts of the City Watch and the King's Men.
Davos took him by the elbow and turned him to look up the Blackwater Rush where a ferryboat, evidently hastily decked out with Baratheon banners. Then, while Stannis stared at his brother standing - posed heroically in fact - upon the foredeck of the ferry, Davos pulled Stannis' hand up into a wave to the crowd.
A wall of sound hammered the ships. Stannis was surprised they weren't pushed against the opposite shore. "Dammit, Seaworth."
"I'm terribly sorry, my lord. My hand slipped."
Stannis ground his teeth.
A few minutes later and Robert's ferry was alongside the Fury. The first head above the side of the galley was Renly's though - the boy was perched on Robert's broadshoulders. "Stannis!" he shouted as he saw his brother. "Stannis, look at me, I'm the tallest man in the world!"
Stannis snatched Renly before Robert was on deck. "Don't do that!" he hissed. "If you slipped you'd be caught between the boats."
"Did you want me to have him climb on his own?" asked Robert. He offered his hand to Stannis and the man reluctantly took it.
There were more cheers from the shore at the sight of the brothers reunited.
"Did you win?" asked Renly, seizing hold of Stannis' other hand. From the looks of it he wasn't planning to let go any time soon.
"Of course I did."
Robert nodded. "I won't deny I was a little worried when I heard about the storm. Not that I doubted you particularly but... you know."
For a moment Stannis was taken back to another moment, he and Robert watching a ship founder in sight of the shore, caught in one of the storms their home was named for and sinking along with two people infinitely precious to them. "Yes. How many made it back?"
"Between those here and those scattered across the southern side of the bay and making repairs? Fifteen."
"Then unless some of them are halfway to Essos we lost a third of the fleet."
Robert nodded grimly. A dozen ships and more than two thousand men dead. The Battle of the Trident had been barely more bloody. "How the Ironborn worship drowning I shall never know. No sign of the Valorous?"
"It sank."
"Gods. I shouldn't have let Corbray overrule you."
Stannis grimaced. "He wasn't entirely wrong. We caught the Targaryens on a ship leaving Dragonstone. A day later and they'd have escaped."
"Rhaella and Viserys? Good work." Robert beamed, good mood apparently restored by this news, and smacked Stannis so hard on the shoulder he almost staggered. "Did the rest give you a problem?"
"After the same storm dashed their ships apart they couldn't surrender fast enough. And Rhaella died in child birth that night. She bore Aerys a last daughter so it's she and Viserys we have."
Robert paused. "Poor woman. Some of the stories about how Aerys treated her... there seems to be more truth to the worst of them than most of us believed."
"Like what?" asked Renly.
The two older brothers exchanged looks. "When you're older," Robert said firmly. "Much older."