Robb left early in the morning before the sun had even risen in the sky and only shades of red and purple broke through the night sky, slipping out through the Mud Gate with Brienne and Robar in tow. All three wore simple cloaks and rode nondescript horses to help give them the appearance of simple travelers. To complete the look, Robb even wore a pack slung across his back that was simply a burlap sack filled with food. In every way, they looked nothing like the king and kingsguard they were.
Ser Davos nodded to them as they left, the only other person besides the queen that knew about Robb's departure. Robb worried that if word got to the High Sparrow, he would cause trouble and that's the last thing Robb wanted to deal with.
Robb's true worry with the High Sparrow was that he would rebuild the Faith Militant, an army of religious fanatics and zealots that had come about after the Conqueror's death centuries ago. Ever since their initial uprising and subsequent downfall, Robb's predecessors have kept a close eye on the Sept of Baelor. As the saying goes: 'keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.'
He already had a start with his 'sparrows', which were nothing but fanatical thugs. As far as Alec knew and had shared with the rest of the Small Council, there were close to fifty sparrows at the High Sparrow disposal, and besides preaching across the city, they also acted as an honor guard whenever the High Sparrow left the confines of the Sept of Baelor. Robb knew that Alec would tell the council if the High Sparrow did try to rebuild the banned organization. If such a thing did happen, Robb would see it reduced to dust without hesitation.
The three riders traveled till the sun was at its peak before getting off the road and having lunch of cold ham, bread, and apples. Even though their departure was unknown to all but a few, Brienne insisted on maintaining constant watch.
"Brienne, there's no one who knows we're gone," Robb said, sitting comfortably with his back to a tree as he munched on his apple. After years of riding under the banner of his house, the feeling of freedom that Robb felt now was electric.
"Also, you know as well as I that Lord Royce has regular patrols sweeping up and down the road."
Lord Royce, gaining a bit of inspiration from Daemon Targaryen, who was known as the 'Lord Flea Bottom', ensured that the law extended well beyond the walls of the city. Patrols were usually composed of hedge knights or other warriors searching for a bit of coin and food. Robb wasn't sure on the exact number the lord of Runestone had under his command, but Robb knew that it was a good few hundred men who lived in a barracks just outside the city that was equipped with its own stable and kitchen.
Although the Crown was still paying off their debt to the Iron Bank, House Tyrell had no problem paying for such a luxury.
"Men are not infallible, your grace," Brienne responded, glaring at the woods around them, her hand on her sword.
"Who knows, your grace, we may come across that Harrison Jass person again." Robar joked. "Though why he would ever face Brienne again is beyond me."
"If he's smart, he'll have moved far away by now," Robb grunted, getting to his feet. "I doubt there's a single lord in the Crownlands or southern Riverlands that'll allow him to enter their service. He's better served going to Essos."
"Have the sellsword companies reformed already?" Robar asked curiously.
Robb shook his head as he checked his horse's saddle. "Lys, Myr, and Tyrosh are still quite angry with us because of what happened with the sellsword companies. The only one who walked away with any semblance of power was the Golden Company, but they only have a tenth of what they started with."
"Didn't they break a contract to join the Targaryens?" Robar asked as the three riders mounted.
"Aye, they did. So they're in hot water with the Free Cities and are not as strong as they used to be." Robb explained. "Though, I am afraid of what might happen now."
"What do you mean?" Robar asked as they rode.
"Braavos has taken control of Pentos. An easy task since Daenerys left a power void when she and her cousin sailed to Westeros." Robb explained. "Qohor, Lorath, and Norvos have remained unchanging. It's Myr, Tyrosh, and Lys that I worry about. They relied heavily on sellswords to fight their battles. I worry that a dominant power such as Volantis might sweep in and take it all."
Robb and Robar's conversation was cut short when Brienne drew her sword. While the two men spoke, they didn't notice the nine individuals coming onto the road ahead of them. They were all dressed in rough brown tunics with shaved heads and seven-pointed stars engraved on their foreheads. They all carried an assortment of weapons from axes to cudgels to spears. Two even had crossbows cocked and ready.
"Robb Stark. You are ordered to halt what you are doing and surrender yourself and your companions to the High Septon." one man with a crossbow called.
Robb slowly drew his sword. "Is the High Sparrow so bold that he believes that he can command the King of Westeros?"
"Put down your weapons and come peacefully." the man answered, lifting his crossbow. "We will use force."
Robb flicked the reins on his horse, who started off at a slow trot before picking up the pace till it was a thundering charge. Brienne and Robar were not far behind him, their swords drawn. The two men shot their crossbows, but Robb was able to swerve out of the way of both before he reached the small knot of men.
His horse sent two men sprawling as Robb cut down one of the crossbowmen, Claw carving effortlessly through the man's shoulder and into his chest. He ripped his sword from the dying man, stabbing it into a man on his left side who was preparing to stab at him with a spear.
In a matter of moments, Robb had killed two and sent another two to the ground. In the same amount of time, Brienne and Robar had taken care of the other five. Altogether, seven lay dead on the road while the two who had been thrown aside by Robb's horse remained alive.
"What will we do with them?" Robar asked.
Robb moved towards one of the downed men, who glared at Robb with absolute hatred. Robb placed the tip of his blade just under the man's throat, leaning down from his saddle so that he could see the man's face clearly.
"Run back to your nest, Sparrow, and tell your master that he better pray for mercy when I return," Robb growled. "He and I will have words, and I assure you now that they will not be pleasant."
"He will never bow to a pagan king." the Sparrow spat. "He'll save us from you tree-worshippers and guide Westeros with the light of the Seven!"
Robb glanced at Brienne, who seemed to be having the same thoughts as him. They were facing the same problem that they had when dealing with Stannis Baratheon. Except for this time, they were facing an old man and his small force of fifty thugs and not an experienced, battle-hardened commander with twenty thousand stormlanders at his back.
Still, even a small group houses so close to the Red Keep can be deadly.
"Leave." Robb snapped. "And tell the High Sparrow that if he loves the Seven so much, then I will be more than happy to help him meet the Stranger."
Without another word, Robb wiped his bloody blade on the fanatic's robe before sheathing it and riding off, leaving the carnage behind. It would serve as a reminder to the other men the High Sparrow sent after Robb.
Wolves do not fear sparrows.
Line Break
The trio rode for the rest of that day before finding an inn and paying for a room. Robar and Brienne shared watch duty while Robb slept, but Robb had insisted that they take the bed while he settled for a pile of hay covered with a thick blanket and a pillow. Both kingsguard had tried to resist, but Robb had settled the debate when he fell onto the hay and went to sleep.
The next morning, after breaking their fast at the inn, they pushed their mounts hard and reached the God's Eye just after midday. On the south side of the lake was a small village that had no more than half a dozen buildings and a few rowboats pulled up on the shore.
Robb stopped next to a woman, giving her a pleasant smile. "Hullo. Can you tell me where your headsman is?"
The woman nodded. "Joshua is at the shore of the lake."
Robb smiled at her and gave her a gold dragon before riding off. True to her word, They found Joshua at the lake in the middle of a heated discussion with another man who had a long white beard and clothes that were patched in odd places. It was a little obvious that he wasn't the headsman.
"Joshua?" Robb asked, dismounting.
Joshua was a broad-shouldered man with a brown beard that was sprinkled with grey and a shaved head. His arms and legs looked well-muscled, probably from years rowing and swimming in the lake.
"Aye, that's me," he answered with a suspicious look. "Who's asking."
"My name is Robb," Robb answered. "I was wondering if my friends and I could get passage across the lake to the Isle of Faces."
The old man's jaw dropped open as he gazed at Robb before dropping to a knee. Joshua did the same, bowing his head as he did.
Robb quickly helped both men back to their feet. "Please, that's not necessary."
"Forgive us, your grace, but we did not think that you would come," Joshua said apologetically. "That's what I and Ullen were talking about."
"What do you mean you didn't think he'd come?" Brienne asked.
Joshua glanced at the large woman and the sword she had half drawn before answering.
"I meant no offense," Joshua said hurriedly. "Ullen delivers food for the Green Men, you see. During his last delivery, he said to look out for a wolf and his pack. We weren't sure what he meant, but since the King is called the 'Young Wolf', you see what we thought…."
"Understandable," Robb said with an easy smile. "Ullen, would you be willing to give my friends and I passage?"
"Of course, your grace," Ullen said with a crooked smile. "It'd be an honor."
"I'll take care of your horses." Joshua offered. "Ullen will bring you to find me when you return."
"Thank you, both of you," Robb said. "Joshua, please do not tell anyone that you've seen me."
Joshua bowed. "Of course, your grace."
Daenerys Targaryen
The lady of Dragonstone was met at the harbor by an older man whose brown hair was flecked with silver and grey. He wore simple leather and wool clothes of brown and black under a brown woolen mantle. The only sign of armor on him was the dark chainmail he wore over his woolen shirt and under his leather tunic. He carried a sword at his side and had a small squad of gold cloaks at his back.
Regardless of his common appearance, the man had an air of authority.
"Lady Daenerys." he greeted, bowing slightly. "We did not expect you."
"I did not expect to be here, ser," Daenerys answered. "I wish to see the king."
Something flickered in the man's eye before he nodded. "Of course. I did not know how many you had with you, so I had five extra horses brought."
"Three will be just fine," Daenerys said, glancing over her shoulder at Barristan and Jorah.
The man glanced at the two knights, nodding slightly before motioning for them to follow. Two watchmen grabbed the two extra horses and walked them away while Daenerys, Barristan, Jorah, and the man mounted. With the gold cloaks marching beside them, they began to make their way towards the castle.
"Forgive me, ser, but I did not get your name," Daenerys said.
"Ser Davos, my lady," Davos answered kindly.
"Ser Davos Seaworth." Ser Barristan said. "You were Stannis's right-hand man."
Davos nodded. "Aye, I was. After his death, his grace offered me a place in his service. I think it's worked out rather well."
"As a gold cloak?" Daenerys asked curiously.
"He's our commander, m' lady." The guard marching beside her corrected quietly.
Davos gave Daenerys a small smile. There was something likable about the older man and his modest apparel. The commander of the gold cloaks was a coveted position of power. Yet the man looked closer to a common sailor than a commander.
"I grew up in Flea Bottom, my lady," Davos said as if reading her thoughts. "I know this city like the back of my hand. It makes sense really."
"I'm rather surprised that you weren't made Master of Ships." Ser Barristan chuckled. "I'd say you know just as much about them as you do about the city."
"Why do you say that?" Daenerys asked, feeling like there was some inside joke between the two knights.
"I was a smuggler before I entered Lord Stannis' service, my lady," Davos explained.
"That's quite a jump," Daenerys noted. "How did that happen?"
Davos blushed slightly, obviously uncomfortable with being the center of attention. "I snuck past the Redwyne blockade and delivered salted fish and onions to the people inside Storm's End," he explained. "I couldn't sleep knowing that women and children could die."
"Very noble of you, ser." Daenerys praised.
"Aye, noble, but I still had a price to pay for my years as a smuggler," Davos said, holding up one hand. "I lost the first five joints on my left hand."
"That must have been tough," Daenerys said.
The odd knight shrugged. "The physical pain meant nothing because my family has a much better life because of it."
"Ser Davos." one of the kingsguard said, walking out of the keep and into the courtyard. Obviously, someone must have notified the castle that Daenerys had landed in the city. "Lady Targaryen."
"Ser Hobber." Davos nodded. "Lady Daenerys had requested a meeting with the king."
The kingsguard nodded. "Very well. The queen is currently in a meeting, but I believe she should be out soon."
Daenerys resisted the urge to tell the knight that she was unwilling to wait. She still had habits that she developed in Essos that she thought she needed to be queen, and she certainly wasn't used to being told to wait, but she had to remind herself that Margaery was queen now and nothing could be done about it.
"The queen?" Ser Barristan asked. "Where is the king?"
"He is currently occupied." Ser Hobber answered. "You'll have to speak with the queen."
"Very well," Daenerys said easily. "We will wait till she is done with her meeting."
"Thank you. Hogan here will show you to your rooms." Hobber, gesturing to the servant who Daenerys just noticed.
She was beginning to wonder if she was right to come back to the city.
Line Break
"Lady Targaryen." the queen said politely, greeting Daenerys and her companions. "What do I owe the pleasure?"
Daenerys took a moment to look around the room. The king's giant wolf lay next to the fire, though his lantern-like eyes were trained on the lady of Dragonstone. It was as large as a pony and she wondered how the beast was able to walk through the castle.
As always, the queen looked effortlessly radiant.
"Your grace," Daenerys said, speaking to Margaery. "I am sorry to arrive unannounced."
"Quite alright," Margaery said with a smile. "It's nice to see a new face. Would you like some wine?"
"Please," Daenerys answered. "One of your kingsguard…."
"Ser Hobber." Ser Barristan said helpfully.
"Ser Hobber," Daenerys corrected, "said that the king was currently occupied."
Margaery nodded. "Indeed."
It was obvious that Margaery wasn't going to tell where the king was or what he was doing. Daenerys fought the urge to continue to press the queen for an answer. She was still surprised that she had been allowed into the castle, let alone an audience with the queen.
"I found something on Dragonstone that I thought the king and the grand maester would have liked to see," Daenerys explained, nodding to Ser Jorah, who produced the sketch by Pylos. The northerner passed the picture to the queen, who regarded it with a curious expression.
"Loras?" Margaery called.
The door opened to reveal another kingsguard, but one who had his helmet off. Daenerys recognized him as the knight who had dueled Amory Lorch and won. Daenerys had not had a proper chance to look at the man, but he was remarkably handsome and reminded Daenerys slightly of the queen with his hair and eyes. It was not hard to see that the knight and the queen were siblings.
"Can you please summon the grand maester?" Margaery asked.
Loras bowed and closed the door. When he was gone, Margaery continued.
"Before we go further, I believe Samwell should be here for anything else that's said about the picture."
"Very well," Daenerys said.
The four nobles sat in awkward silence, waiting for the grand maester to arrive. There was a palpable tension between the two women, and neither wanted to bring it up. One was a former queen and the other was the current queen. Both were used to holding the power of the crown, but now that power belonged to Margaery, the woman who had everything Daenerys had ever wanted; a husband, a child, and a crown.
Thankfully, it was Ser Barristan who broke the silence.
"The city seems to be flourishing, my lady."
Margaery smiled. "Thank you, ser, but I cannot take all the credit. Ser Davos, Lord Royce, and Lord Tyrion have played a hand as well."
"I saw the beginnings of Volantene sewers." Ser Jorah noted.
Margaery nodded. "Good eye, ser. I invited Master Aros from Volantis to see if the city could be improved. I'm hoping that the sewers will do away with the awful smell. Lord Tyrion and the master architect have been hard at work on the project."
"Why did you assign Lord Tyrion this task?" Daenerys asked.
"He is said to have fixed the drains and sewers of Casterly Rock," Margaery answered. "Besides that, he is one of the most intelligent men I have ever come across. I doubt there is any such challenge that he could not accomplish."
At that moment, the door opened to reveal a fat, thin-haired man who wore the robes and chain of a maester. Behind him was a fur-clad younger man who carried just as many books as the maester. Margaery graced them both with a smile.
"Grand Maester, Artos, thank you for arriving so quickly."
The grand maester bowed slightly, setting the books down on a nearby table. "Your grace," he said before turning to Daenerys. "My lady and sers."
"Samwell, Lady Daenerys has brought a drawing from Dragonstone that I believe you should have a look at," Margaery explained. "It might be connected with your current study."
The maester looked confused for a second before he realized what the queen meant and nodded quickly. "Right, yes, thank you."
Daenerys handed the picture to the man, who narrowed his eyes slightly and gazed at the picture, analyzing it. After a while, he looked back up at Daenerys, a curious look back on his face.
"Where was this found exactly?"
"Painted on a wall inside of a cave on the beach," Daenerys said, nodding to Ser Barristan, who added another item to the table. "This was also found as well."
Samwell picked up the object, once again narrowing his eyes. Given the wrinkles around his eyes, Daenerys felt that it was something he did often whenever he was looking or reading something.
"This is dragonglass," he said finally.
Ser Barristan nodded. "It's a broken arrowhead."
"What's the connection between the picture and the arrowhead?" Margaery asked.
"The Others were fought with weapons made from dragonglass." the fur-clad man named Artos answered bluntly.
"Did your maester find anything in the library about this?" Samwell asked, looking at Daenerys.
She shook her head. "He was unable to find anything about the cave. Though there were marks in the cave itself that showed mining, so someone knew about at some point in time."
"What were the walls made of?" Samwell asked immediately.
Daenerys thought for a moment. "I'm not sure."
"Sam?" Margaery prompted, obviously wanting to know what the man was thinking.
"Forgive me your grace, my lady, but I was thinking that Dragonstone might have been one place where the Children of the Forest got dragonglass," Samwell explained. "The painting may very well be a marking of some sort, that the cave may be where one can mine and collect dragonglass."
"There was no mention of this cave in the library on the island?" Margaery asked, looking at Daenerys.
Ser Jorah shook his head. "The maester wasn't able to find any recordings of it ever being found."
"I have been on the island many times and have never noticed it myself." Ser Barristan added. "It was Lady Daenerys who found the cave, though that action itself may also be due to luck."
"It was a feeling," Daenerys corrected, "but Ser Barristan is right. I didn't spot it till I was well past it. The opening is tricky to find. You must be looking at it from just the right angle. Other than that, it just looked like a cleft or something, certainly not a cave."
The queen tapped the table thoughtfully with a finger. Daenerys remembered seeing Robb do the same thing whenever he was mulling things over in his mind. For the first time, Daenerys was struck by the similarities between Robb Stark and his queen. Both were smart and decisive with their orders and they never allowed any conversation they were a part of get away from them. Somehow, they always managed to take control of every aspect of their surroundings.
"Sam, do you think that this is connected to your findings and beliefs from your studies?"
The maester looked skeptical, but it was Artos who stepped forward and answered. "Your grace, perhaps it is not a coincidence, but the work of the gods. The Old Gods."
Daenerys frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I believe what my friend means is that yes, they may be connected," Sam answered quickly. He nodded to Daenerys. "Thank you for bringing this, my lady. It is very helpful."
"Is the Long Night coming?" Ser Jorah blurted out.
The room was instantly silenced as everyone turned to look at the knight, who turned slightly red from embarrassment. For a moment, Daenerys felt that they were about to be laughed out of the room until the queen answered. Her tone was grave and honest.
"Perhaps," she said simply. "The king and Sam here are looking into that possibility. It is something we were hoping to keep silent."
"Why is that?" Daenerys asked curiously.
"Many in the south are followers of the Seven," Margaery explained. "They do not believe in, well, 'snarks and grumpkins' as they would call it. We wanted to find physical proof before taking any steps."
"What are those steps?" Ser Jorah asked.
"The King's father and brother are currently working on that," Margaery responded, not exactly answering Jorah's questions. "However. the king wishes this to be kept silent to avoid mass panic and religious uproar. I hope that you all respect that wish."
Daenerys shook her head stubbornly. "I still don't understand why it must be kept secret. This is a matter of the kingdom's safety."
Ser Barristan laid a gentle hand on her arm. "My lady, many in the south don't believe that the Others exist."
"The Archmaesters still argue if they did at all," Samwell added quietly.
Ser Barristan nodded. "This is a very precarious situation that the queen and king can't rush into without proof that this threat is real. They would lose all credibility with their southern subjects."
"The fact that they're taking this seriously is better than what most kings in the past fifty years would do." Ser Jorah grunted before glancing at Daenerys and going quiet.
"This painting and the books that Sam has won't be enough," Margaery said. "I understand that this is a very important matter, and the king and I are treating it as such, but there are hundreds of thousands of others who don't. We are already having trouble with the Faith as it is."
"The High Sparrow," Daenerys said.
"He's been threatening to revive the Faith Militant." Margaery sighed. "The king refuses to convert and so it has caused some problems. If it got out that we were preparing for the Long Night to return, most of Westeros would look at us like we're stupid and the other small, more angry portion would raise the banners of the Faith Militant and try to drag my husband off the throne."
"Bloody fanatics." Artos muttered.
"What can I do to help?" Daenerys asked.
"With the Faith?" Margaery responded. Daenerys shook her head and gestured to the sketch.
"With this."
Margaery looked at Sam. "Grand Maester, you're the unofficial know-all on this. How can Lady Daenerys help?"
Sam hesitated before answering. "The first would be to start mining dragonglass," he said. "We will need a lot of it should the Long Night come."
"Where should I send it?" Daenerys asked.
"The Night's Watch," Sam answered. "That's where this will be fought and that's where it will be needed the most."
"Anything else?" Daenerys asked.
"Your dragons," Sam said.
Daenerys frowned, her mental hackles raised. "What about them?"
"They'll be needed. Invaluable even." Sam said, not noticing Daenerys's guarded tone. He finished with a slight grin:
"If we're fighting creatures of myth, it'll help that we have some of our own."
Daenerys relaxed slightly. "Very well."
Margaery looked between her and the Grand Maester before bringing the meeting to an end. "You are welcome to stay, my lady, and thank you for bringing this to our attention."
"Of course," Daenerys said. "My duty is still to the realm."
The words 'even if I am not the queen' hung unsaid in the air between the two women.
Jaime Lannister
The sight of the Red Keep brought a strange sensation to Jaime. For so many years, it had been a welcome sight because he knew that he was returning to Cersei. At the same time, he also hated the bloody castle because of all that he had witnessed while protecting the mad man. Now, Jaime wasn't sure what to feel.
Tommen and he rode at the front of a small group of a dozen guardsmen. Tommen was dressed in clothes fitting his station as Tyrion's heir. He wore a red and gold doublet, black pants, and a fine red cloak that was clasped at his throat with a roaring lion's head. He carried an arming sword at his side, its hilt decorated with gold.
Jaime, on the other hand, wore a dull red cloak with the hood up. Under it, he wore practical black and red leathers and black chainmail. As always, his longsword hung at his waist opposite of a heavy-bladed dagger. For once, he was happy not to be wearing the white armor of the kingsguard. It always brought too much attention to him.
The group easily picked its way through the bustle of the city streets, which were cleaner than Jaime had ever seen them before. When Joffrey had been king, Jaime had heard rumors of the populace starving and that there were more beggars than gold under the Rock. It had been a woeful sight that showed just how much Joffrey had neglected his people. Tyrion had called it the 'picture of poverty, neglect, and sorrow'.
The same could not be said for Robb Stark. The streets were clean and filled with content men, women, and children going about their daily business. Groups of Gold Cloaks marched through the streets, the very embodiment of authority and order. Jaime passed more than a few taverns and brothels, and he never once saw a Gold Cloak or any other city officials inside. The city was obviously flourishing under the Young Wolf and the Rose Queen.
"Uncle, what are they building there?" Tommen asked, pointing towards a building site.
Jaime looked at the half-completed structure before shrugging and shaking his head. "I have no idea. Tyrion will know."
Jaime had his reservations about returning to the scene of his greatest triumph and equally greatest failure, but he couldn't fight the fact that he was excited to see his brother again. It had been months since they had seen each other in person, and Jaime knew that Tyrion would want to sit alone and pass a pitcher of wine between them as they caught up properly. Thankfully, Jaime had plenty of experience dealing with his drunk brother.
Tyrion met the party in the main courtyard of the castle, a beaming smile plastered to his face. Pod, his squire, stood behind him, his hands folded respectfully behind his back. Another man was with him as well, pinch-faced and dressed in official-looking clothing.
"Nephew, Brother, welcome back!" Tyrion said happily. Tommen was the first to dismount, walking quickly up to his uncle and getting down on one knee so that he could embrace Tyrion.
"My god, you've grown lad!" Tyrion laughed. "What did I say when you were a boy? You'll be bigger than the Hound!"
"It's great to see you, Uncle." Tommen greeted. "Thank you for all your letters."
"Of course," Tyrion replied before turning to Jaime, who had dismounted and was waiting for his turn to greet his brother. "Jaime? No hello for your favorite brother?"
Jaime chuckled and shook his head. "You're my only brother, Tyrion."
"All the more reason for me to be your favorite," Tyrion said matter-of-factly. "I am a rarity."
"You certainly are." Jaime chuckled before embracing his brother.
"This is Leopold, the king's steward," Tyrion said, gesturing to the pinch-faced man behind him. "He will see to your guards and your luggage."
"Thank you," Tommen said, nodding gratefully to the man.
"Of course, my lord," Leopold responded before barking orders to the small group of servants waiting off to the side.
"Come, come," Tyrion said, ushering Jaime and Tommen inside. "We have a lot to catch up on!"
Line Break
"He's good," Tyrion commented as he and Jaime watched the Blackfish train Tommen. "A credit to your training to be sure."
"Thank you," Jaime said. "He's a good lad. Smart, kind, getting better with a sword each day. He'll be a good lord of the Rock. How are things here?"
Tyrion sighed. "Not all that bad, all things considered. A little problem with the Faith, but other than that, Robb Stark has been nothing short of amazing. His queen seems to have a thousand ideas a day, and they're all brilliant."
"Tommen and I passed a construction site on the way here," Jaime said, remembering Tommen's question. "Is that one of the queen's plans?"
"It is indeed." Tyrion nodded. "She's finally decided to do something about the smell that hangs over the city. She hired an Essosi architect from Volantis and the three of us have been working on plans for a sewer system."
Jaime raised an eyebrow. "Impressive. I assume her plans don't stop with sewers."
"She's a Tyrell. They are never content with one thing." Tyrion joked. "She had plans to improve the harbor, the castle, the gardens, the streets, the gates, and the walls. I think the king will want to put in his own input with that last one."
"Naturally," Jaime said. "I guess I should thank him for allowing me to leave the Rock."
"You can if you want. I'm sure he won't care if you don't." Tyrion shrugged.
"Why do you say that?" Jaime asked.
Tyrion shrugged again. "He's from the North. They're different up there."
Below them, the door from the armory opened and four men exited. They all wore pale armor and had white cloaks that swirled around their feet. Three of them carried swords and shields, the fourth had a morningstar and a shield.
"The Kingsguard," Tyrion said. "Ser Hobber Redwyne, Ser Garth Hightower, Ser Rolland Storm, and Ser Balon Swann I believe."
"Good knights," Jaime grunted. He knew most of them by name, if not by reputation. He had knocked all of them off their horses at some point.
"Who were the other three again?"
"Ser Robar Royce and Ser Loras Tyrell. Brienne of Tarth is the commander." Tyrion answered.
"Who is Brienne of Tarth?" Jaime asked curiously. The name rang a faint bell in Jaime's mind.
"The daughter of Lord Tarth," Tyrion said. "She's quite ferocious. Beat the blazes out of a man just a few weeks ago."
"Stark put a woman in the kingsguard?" Jaime asked, shocked.
"Made her Lord Commander on top of it all," Tyrion added. "Although, the title is now referred to simply as the 'Commander' of the kingsguard. Don't scoff at her appointment. She's a very good fighter. She might even give you a challenge, though I am not ready to admit that she is better."
That meant something to Jaime. He knew that Tyrion regarded him as the best warrior in the realm, and compared most fighters to Jaime to judge their skill. If he said that this Brienne woman would give him a challenge, then she had to be extremely skilled.
"Jaime Lannister?" a voice called up from the arena. The two Lannister brothers looked down to see who was calling for Jaime. It was Ser Rolland. He and the other four kingsguard were looking up at the former knight. "Care to train with us?"
Jaime raised an eyebrow and shrugged. "Very well. I'll be down in a few moments."
Ser Rolland nodded. "Armor is in the armory," he said before turning back to his brothers-in-arms.
Jaime looked at Tyrion. "A woman in the kingsguard. A Stark ruling competently in the south. Now this? Miracles do happen."