Jaime could only do so much to distract Cersei before news reached her that Myrcella, and one of her hostages, was gone. Fortunately, it had taken nearly a full day for her to learn of it. Not wanting the confrontation to be public when she demanded answers, they went to her chambers.
"This is that malicious Imp's doing. What did he convince you to do?" Her green eyes flashed with fury.
"It wasn't Tyrion, though you've certainly given him cause to torment you! No, this was Myrcella's idea. She believes honey will attract more flies than vinegar, and even now rides for Blackhaven to rally the Marcher Lords to our cause." The lie rolled off his tongue easily.
Cersei paced as she answered, "You idiots. Beric wouldn't swear fealty to Joffrey, even under threat of torture. More likely, he'll turn Myrcella into a hostage! Do you have any idea what you have done?"
He yawned. "Beric is wedded to his honor as tightly as Stark is. If he meant us harm, he would have sworn his vows to Joffrey and then betrayed them." He moved closer to his sister to wrap his arms around her. "I also let him know that I would personally cut him down if he did betray us."
Cersei pushed him away. "Never make a decision again without consulting me. I am the head, and you are the Hand. Do not forget your role, brother."
Jaime laughed. "My role? The one I never asked for? If you dislike my Handship, relieve me and be done with it, so we can both be happy."
She scowled at him. "And have the realm mock us? They will be reminded of the Mad King's endless parade of short-lived Hands."
Jaime shrugged. "As you will, sweet sister. Since we are on the topic of others mocking us, can we put to rest this idea of Clegane as part of the Kingsguard?"
"Joffrey insists; he wants to reward his dog."
"He can be rewarded another way. Gold, other titles, even lands, but not this."
Cersei's eyes flashed. "I am the Regent; I choose what will or won't happen."
He met her stare. "Don't test me on this."
Cersei finally looked away. "Very well; I'll create a new title. We can call it the King's Champion, or the King's Shield, and he can remain as his personal bodyguard. Do something useful, Hand, and find two more to wear your precious white cloak."
That worked for Jaime. He moved to embrace her, but again Cersei pushed him back.
"Not now, and don't think I will forget how you lay with me while Myrcella rode further and further away. It seems I'm the only Lannister in the city who can accomplish anything, and I have things to do if I am to keep our son on the throne."
Jaime watched her leave, admiring her back as she departed. He hoped she didn't stay wroth with him for very long. Finding two worthy knights was at the moment, a bit of a tall order. There were several candidates in the army his father was mustering, but they weren't here now. Lyle Crakehall would be one; the Strongboar was a skilled warrior, a second son, and as his moniker suggested, quite strong. If he did consent to take the white cloak, there would need to be somebody not of the Westerlands for the role as well. Three with Ser Preston and himself would already be putting the order to a precarious balance. He resolved that it should remain vacant for the nonce.
***
The journey to Storm's End went well. Gone were my typical dresses in exchange for an outfit that more prominently displayed my Baratheon heritage. Cersei pushed the colors red and gold in our dress. The Baratheon colors were black and gold, so theoretically she was using the gold from the Baratheon standard and adding the red from house Lannister. Only, the Lannister colors were red and gold, so we might as well have all just dressed up as Lannisters. So, yeah, none of that nonsense.
Now I wore the black and gold of Baratheon. My outfit was not proper for court but was tolerated while traveling. Black breeches were pushing the bounds of what was acceptable for a princess, but a few onyx stones strewn through a silver hairpiece made up for it.
To complete my more martial bearing and proper Baratheon attire, I wore my dragon-bone-hilted Valyrian steel dagger at the waist. Whoever had tried to assassinate me was likely in King's Landing, so there seemed little risk in displaying it. I did hate drawing attention to my martial prowess, but to convince the Stormlords, I needed every little subconscious advantage I could take.
I was not idle on the journey. I took pains to spend time talking to Ser Beric, asking him about Blackhaven and taking an interest in what he was like as a person. I also shared how I had always found the Marcher Lords and their diligent defense of the Stormlands throughout history to be noble and inspiring. By the time our journey was complete, he viewed me quite differently from the rest of my family. Apparently, my dear mother had been most uncouth with her threats. I understood she was merely bluffing, but directly stating you would chop off parts of a prisoner's body until they relented was disturbing. I wasn't a wilting flower to believe torture hadn't been done in Westeros, but to an important noble that you were hoping to sway to your cause… that was just ridiculous.
Brienne was another person I talked with. She was still in mourning, but the time from her duties had done her some good. We were able to talk a bit more about her history with Renly, and I learned more about the kindness my uncle had shown her. I also learned more of her home and her father, whom she had nothing but praise for. I was also careful to explain to her how vital it was that she now keep my secrets. She was the only one here who'd been in the Tower of the Hand, and the one to whom I had explained that Cersei had betrayed the King and had likely been behind the attack in the Kingswood. I could tell it troubled her greatly, but she said an oath was an oath and that she would not share my secrets.
I also tended to Ser Barristan's wounds. His ribs were healing nicely, and the splint for his broken tibia wasn't getting too aggrieved by the ride. It clearly pained him, but the stoic knight did not complain. I mostly listened to him as he told stories of his various exploits. Occasionally I would probe him about tactics he found useful in the various wars he had fought. I also got the full firsthand account of the attack on the hunting party.
I learned the names of the guardsmen who accompanied me. They were not decked in Lannister colors and instead wore plain chainmail and half helms. None particularly stood out, apart from Lum of course, who I had specifically requested.
As we approached Storm's End, I positioned my horse in the middle of the group and pulled my hood up. Best not to chance things until they'd agreed to honor parley. Beside me rode Ser Arys, Brienne, and Ser Barristan. Already, tents could be made out, to house the overflow of the levies. Several thousand at least had already arrived. Stormlords hated being tardy to battle. I saw the banners of Buckler, Errol, Wylde, Staedmon, Fell, and Connington. None of the Marcher Lord banners were here, which made sense given the distance they would need to travel.
We were stopped as we approached, and Beric Dondarrion spoke for the group. "I've been set free from King's Landing on the condition that I assist in this parley. Will Ser Cortnay honor it and grant guest right?"
"Wait here, ser, and we will check."
A little while longer and a bald man rode out from the fortress. His weathered face showed his age, but he seemed hearty enough, and his fiery beard was still red.
"Lord Beric Dondarrion! We feared for your safety; it is good to see you well. Have the Lannisters chosen to use you as a messenger when a raven would be better suited?"
Beric played his part and reiterated his desire for parley, and the castellan of Storm's End readily agreed.
"As for my purpose here, let me introduce you to my companions. Ser Barristan Selmy, Ser Arys Oakheart, and… the Princess Myrcella Baratheon."
I rode forward. "A pleasure to see you again, ser; it has been some time."
The man was surprised. "Myrcella? Your Grace… my Lady, what are you doing here?"
I smiled. "I would talk with you and the Stormlords. I fear a grave mistake has been made and desire it rectified. Please gather the lords and landed knights in your feast hall and I will explain."
Some of the soldiers with Ser Cortnay spoke up.
"That's Cersei's daughter; we should take her hostage."
"She can be ransomed for the rest of the knights still in King's Landing!"
Cortnay raised his hand. "I've given my word to honor the parley. There will be no talk of hostages. Come and be welcome in Storm's End."
***
Asha was with her father and her uncle when the letter from King's Landing came.
"So, the woman and the boy King think they can give me leave to reave?" Balon tore it to pieces and threw it in a brazier. Asha watched it curl and blacken as it took flame. "Lord Stark has allied himself with Stannis Baratheon, two able commanders, as we have suffered to learn. I have no desire to cross swords with them again."
And Stark has your son.
"The Lannisters… they will learn that I am the Lord Reaper of Pyke, King of Salt and Rock, Son of the Sea and Wind, and no man, let alone a woman or child, gives me leave to reave."
Victarion made a sound from his throat. "Then where do we raid?"
Asha couldn't stop herself – not that she really wanted to. "That's obvious, nuncle, the Westerlands are ripe for the plucking. The boy King will need to be saved by the Old Lion, and we can once again lay waste to their ships at Lannisport."
Balon growled at her. "Do not overstep yourself, girl. We will raid the Westerlands, but not Lannisport – not yet. You will go to Fair Isle and take Fair Castle. Victarion, you will take the prizes of Feastfires and Kayce. Take and plunder as you like."
Asha grinned; it would be good to prove herself. It would be simple to take the town and pillage, but if she truly wanted to demonstrate why she should succeed her father, she would need to take the castle itself.
***
The hall was full of notables and sworn knights. The Wylde house had several of its members here, as did the Buckler family. I spotted Ser Patrek of King's Mountain sitting next to Ronnet Connington and Arrec Lonmouth. Lord Harwood Fell sat speaking closely with Lord Sabastian Errol. Alesander Staedmon was quiet with a bevy of knights around him.
After taking some bread and salt, I had my men quartered, save for Ser Beric, Ser Barristan, Brienne, and Ser Arys.
Once we had all been seated, Cortnay Penrose stood up and raised his voice. "Stormlords! Myrcella Baratheon comes to this hall and wishes to speak."
I stood up, once more cursing my lack of height.
"My lords, I have had the privilege to meet some of you when my father visited his ancestral home. Others I recognize from tournaments, and still more I feel fortunate to now meet for the first time." I gazed around the room, making eye contact for the briefest of moments before continuing. "You have raised your banners in rebellion against my trueborn brother, Joffrey Baratheon." Jeering began as several knights objected to my phrasing. Good, the first step was to make sure your audience was engaged.
"My lords! You have done so based on the strength of the reputation that Stannis Baratheon and Eddard Stark have made for themselves. Yet, they provide no proof! Edric Storm is my half-brother, and yes, he looks like my father. But that is not sufficient. My father had many bastards; do all look like Edric? They do not!"
Lord Sabastian spoke up, "If Stannis Baratheon and Eddard Stark both say something is true, then it is true. Neither would play false!"
I turned to face him. "Eddard Stark does believe my brother is ill-born; a man can believe a false thing and not be false. I am here today to explain how he has come to be deceived. I have brought with me knights of unimpeachable character. Today you will listen to Ser Barristan Selmy and Ser Arys Oakheart, two knights worthy of the title, who will provide their testimony as to the absurdity that is my Uncle Stannis's claim."
Ser Patrek stood up. "We have already sworn to King Stannis; what is this drivel? You would have us betray our newly given vows?"
"Ser Patrek, let me clarify your stance. Should you learn with absolute certainty that Joffrey is the trueborn son of Robert Baratheon, would you not pledge yourself to his cause?"
He looked around the room before looking back at me. "That isn't the case; good King Stannis is the true heir."
I turned on my reflexive enchantments and then added vectors of force to the hand I was slamming down on the table. The table was solid oak, and my ringing slap onto the wood hurt, but it was also loud and had a force to it that startled the hall.
"DO NOT DISSEMBLE WITH ME, SER." I let my voice carry; it was not the booming voice of an adult man, but it was louder and more forceful than what they expected.
I affected a deep breath as if to calm myself. "Forgive me, Ser Patrek. Sometimes my anger gets the best of me." I had debated over saying 'fury' but that would have been laying it on a tad too thick.
"But I must have your answer. You swore an oath to follow Stannis based on the belief that he is next in line to the throne due to the vile accusation of incest. If you learned that the premise of your oath is false, would you not swear to the King true in actuality?"
The man was trapped by my words. "Aye, well, yes, then I would. But only if proof was ironclad."
I smiled, showing my teeth. "Excellent, in that case we can dispense with the worry of your current oaths. All that matters is the truth of the accusation. If Stannis's charge is true, then he is the true King and all have an obligation to serve and swear fealty." I gestured with my other hand. "On the other hand, if the charge is false, all here owe King Joffrey their fealty. Do I have the right of it?"
There was some muttering, but they reluctantly agreed.
Penrose looked thoughtful. "What then is the proof?"
I nodded to him. "I ask you, heed the words of Ser Barristan Selmy, a knight beyond reproach. Let any who calls into question his honor, speak now."
Ser Brus Buckler spoke up, "All know Ser Barristan's honor, and yet Joffrey Waters dismissed him from service. Dishonorable decisions like that are the reason we should send this Lannister girl back to King's Landing empty-handed."
"Thank you for vouching for Ser Barristan's honor. And thank you for bringing up that he was dismissed from the Kingsguard. That was ill done; I won't deny it. Yet, consider this, even with the insult done to him, he is still here, in this hall, speaking for the truth of Joffrey's birth."
The hall grew restive, and I continued.
"Ser Barristan, Cersei is being accused of the wretched crime of fornicating with her brother. A crime that violates the laws of Gods and Men. As a member of the Kingsguard, have you ever witnessed her commit adultery?"
"I have not."
Ronnet Connington barked out a laugh. "Oh, for fuck's sake, did you think she'd do it in front of the Kingsguard?"
"Ser, please be patient." I turned back to Barristan. "Ser Barristan, did Robert Baratheon claim his marital rights with my mother?"
"Aye, he did."
"How do you know?"
"I oft guarded the King and was posted outside his bedchambers. Pardon for any offense, Your Grace, but Robert was loud when he lay with a woman."
The Stormlords cheered at that, several raising their cups in toast to their fallen King.
"Would any of those occasions coincide with my mother's pregnancy?"
"I cannot recall with perfect clarity, but yes, I believe so."
I nodded my head. "Do you believe it would have been the duty of Robert's brother to report any suspected infidelity to him?"
"Yes."
"To your knowledge, did he?"
"He did not; I would have known."
I looked around the hall. "Do any of you have questions for Ser Barristan?"
Lord Sabastian stood up. "What is this mummer's farce? The Queen would not be stupid enough to have a child without sleeping with Robert. He would know and her head would be on a pike."
I pounced on those words. "Stupid enough? My lord, you hold the belief that she was stupid enough to cuckold her husband with the Kingsguard and give birth to illegitimate children. Which is it, my Lord? Is she stupid and foolish?" I let my gaze wander over the assembled crowd, their eyes filled with anger, doubt, and some consideration, before finishing, "Or wise?"
"Bah, a person can be both. You try to confuse the issue with an endless stream of words. Stannis would not lie, neither would Stark. That is all the proof I need."
I nodded my head. "Let us allow Ser Arys to speak, and then I will address your concern."
He sat down scowling, and I repeated the same questions to Ser Arys, who answered in similar fashion.
"Thank you for your patience, my lords. Let us discuss the honor of Lord Stark. It is intact. He committed his name and seal because he truly believes that Stannis is the heir and rightful King. But he has been misled. This was due to the tragic circumstances, the violence in the Kingswood and in the Tower of the Hand. Those events caused him to believe the lies."
Lord Harwood Fell stood up to speak, but I continued. "Lord Stark had just been attacked in the Tower of the Hand by the Gold Cloaks. He had just learned of Robert being assassinated." This was a lie, but one that would be hard to disprove. "When he is then told by traitors and schemers that it was Queen Cersei's doing to cover up her infidelity – what do you think he believed? Like you, he put his trust in Stannis and his agents."
A knight I did not know by name growled out. "You go too far. I won't listen to a Lannister pup slander our King!"
I pin him with a stare. "I speak the truth, ser. Allow me to continue, and you can judge for yourself. Your muster is not yet fully complete; am I taking you away from pressing duties? Why do you fear the true account of what occurred?"
He blustered, but Cortnay stepped in. "Allow her to speak; I too want to know what happened." He turned to me and asked, "Why was Stark attacked? King's Landing sent a letter that accuses Lord Stark of being behind the assassination of King Robert and his brother, yet here you clam his honor is intact. Which is it?"
I nod in thanks. "There was a sense of chaos in the capital. My beloved father was laid low, as was my cherished uncle. Ser Barristan can tell you that the attackers shouted "For the North" before their assault. When my mother was advised that there was evidence of a plan to take the King's life and that the plan originated from House Stark, she sprang into action. She ordered Janos Slynt to take in Eddard Stark for questioning, while sending my Uncle Jaime to ride forth and rescue the King."
Someone shouted from the other end of the hall. "Or to finish him off!"
I looked at Ser Barristan. "Ser, when Jaime came upon you, severely injured, did he immediately look to aid you?"
"Ser Jaime did."
"You were one of the few witnesses of the attack left alive, correct?"
"Yes, to my knowledge, only Tyrion Lannister and I were still alive and in the area. Bran Stark and Tyrek Lannister made a complete escape, but everyone else was dead."
I turned away and looked back at the Stormlords. "My uncle could have silenced any non-Lannister witness to the event, and instead he immediately seeks to treat his wounds? No worry that a sellsword or knave may be recognized as a Lannister man by the canny and wise Ser Barristan?"
As arguments went, it was thin, but it was one more crack.
"Speaking of which, when the assassins attacked, did my father believe that it was the Lannisters?"
"No, Your Grace. He thought they were Targaryen loyalists."
"I understand that Robert did not have his war hammer with him. What did he fight with?"
"A boar spear, Your Grace."
"Who supplied that spear?"
"His squire, Tyrek Lannister."
There were murmurs around the room; the mood was shifting from angry to confused.
"He had another squire, my cousin Lancel Lannister. What happened to him?"
"Lancel Lannister was slain by our attackers."
Lancel's death was likely already known to most of the knights and lords in the room, but a reminder could only help.
"Returning to the awful events of that day in the Red Keep, I'd like to ask Ser Beric more of what he saw outside the Tower of the Hand."
Ser Beric explained how he and other knights that were in the capital had armed and armored themselves to confront the Gold Cloaks who appeared to be attacking the Starks.
"We arrived around the same time as the Queen. Janos Slynt was told to discontinue his attack because you were being held hostage."
Cortnay frowned. "We heard that rumor; you are saying it is true, Lord Stark held you hostage?"
I nodded. "Yes, it is true. I was exchanged for Sansa Stark and safe passage from King's landing. My Uncle Stannis had a ship ready and waiting for him; likely those servants were the ones to drip the venom into Stark's ears about the alleged infidelity."
Penrose looked on in confusion. "How did Stark lay hands on you?"
"I am close friends with Sansa, Arya, and Bran Stark. I was visiting Arya when the Gold Cloaks and the Starks battled."
Lord Alesander Staedmon asked, "Wait, wait, are you saying the Gold Cloaks attacked the Tower of the Hand while you were inside of it?"
"Precisely. It speaks to the absurd chaos of that tragic day. My mother was sick with worry and tried to do too many things at once. She gave hasty orders to Janos Slynt, who I will tell you right now is an absolute buffoon in need of replacement. He ordered the Gold Cloaks to take the Tower at all costs. His men murdered women and servants."
The confusion and talking amongst the gathered knights grew to a peak. Cortnay pounded the table to quiet them down.
"We only have your word; none of us were there."
Brienne spoke up. "I was there, ser, I swear by the old Gods and the new, those Gold Cloaks were out-of-control animals. I saw a maid run through with a spear. They tried to break down a door with an axe to get at a hiding child. That bloody day will forever be etched into my memory, and slaying those curs is one of my proudest moments."
Cortnay looked very confused and very troubled. "I have known you since you were a little girl, Brienne, and I vouch for your honor. I just cannot understand what madness occurred. You helped the Starks fight against the Gold Cloaks the Queen sent?"
"I did. At the time, all I knew was that they were attacking. Princess Myrcella thought there was a coup going on and that the Gold Cloaks were part of it. She was concerned for her mother's safety."
Ser Brus Buckler spoke up again. "Do you not see, my Lords? The Queen is an unfit Regent. Even if we believe every word Myrcella speaks, it shows the danger in wedding ourselves to her cause."
I showed my teeth again. "Ser Brus, you speak of my mother's incompetence. And yet you also hold the belief that for fifteen years she fooled Robert Baratheon, his entire Kingsguard, every servant of the Red Keep, and countless guards? So, which is it, ser; is my mother a master of deception or an incompetent?"
"It matters not which; Joffrey's cause is doomed as she is Regent."
Many of the assembled Stormlords did not like those words. I let them dwell on them for a few moments before picking up his thread. "Does not matter? If my mother bore trueborn children, would you turn your swords against them because you thought the Regent would make it difficult to win the war?"
"I…" He glowered at me but then shook his head and sat down.
Cortnay Penrose asked some more questions, allowing me to further fill out the picture I wanted to paint. In my version of events, Cersei was informed of the imminent attack on the King, with the alleged perpetrator being the Hand. She acted rashly and relied on an awful commander to take him in. Slynt was depicted as the villain, and due to the actions of the Gold Cloaks, Lord Stark became convinced that Cersei was behind the attack on the King.
Cortnay looked at me. "I admit, you have me convinced as to why Lord Stark attached his signature and seal to the letter Stannis sent out. But you have not convinced me that Stannis Baratheon of all people is false. Nor have you explained who was behind the attack on Robert."
"As to who was behind the plot to murder my father? It could be a Targaryen plot. Father had just recently authorized an attack on Daenerys Targaryen. This could have pushed some old loyalist to the breaking point, and so they chose to act." I paused. "I'm not convinced, but I would be remiss if I didn't bring up the possibility. I would also be remiss if I did not mention it may have been my Uncle Stannis, which is more likely, though I have no direct proof."
The Stormlords let their displeasure at that theory known with shouts and clamor.
"Let her speak!" Ser Cortnay demanded.
"I know this is hard to hear, but my lords, this is why treachery is so foul and disturbing. We do not want to believe someone could present one face, an honorable and dutiful face, and then act without scruples. Let me give you an example all should be familiar with… Ser Barristan, prior to Rhaegar's actions with Lyanna Stark, how would you describe his reputation?"
Ser Barristan looked a bit shocked. "Ah, Your Grace, while this opinion may not be popular in this hall… I can say Rhaegar conducted himself honorably, nobly, and with dignity as befit a prince."
Some raised their voice in protest, mostly the younger knights, but the older ones shut that down. It was true. I knew my histories; despite my father's raving about how evil Rhaegar was, he was a genuinely popular prince before the kidnapping.
"A prince who was dignified, honorable, and noble, who then acted with cruelty and plunged Westeros into a bloody war. If people can be wrong about Rhaegar, they can be wrong about Stannis. Or more precisely, it is not their view that was wrong but the person that has changed. Stannis Baratheon is no longer the man who held this very hall from the Tyrells. He is no longer the same man who was a hero of Robert's Rebellion!"
Lord Ralph Buckler raised his voice. "How is he no longer the same man?"
I smiled at the question. "Lord Buckler, he is no longer the same man because there is no scenario where he is not false. Please, my lords, allow me to explain. My brother is either trueborn or a bastard. He cannot be both. If he is true-born, Stannis is false for attempting to usurp the Iron Throne. Yet, if my brother is a bastard, when did Stannis discover this? It would have to have been prior to leaving King's Landing, so why then did he not tell his brother, his King? Why did not tell anyone until my father was cut down?"
The hall chewed that over, and none spoke up as they mulled the scenario. Cortnay Penrose had a pensive look. "Stannis may have had a suspicion, but no proof."
"And he would find that proof on Dragonstone?" I asked incredulously.
His weathered face did not change its expression. "I do not know, but if you would have us believe the second scenario you present, even if Stannis betrayed Robert by not telling him, your brother would still be baseborn."
"That would be correct, but in that scenario, my uncle's word is still meaningless. Which means that in both scenarios, my uncle's word should never be trusted. Ser, if you back Stannis for his word and I have demonstrated his word in either case is dross… what then do you base your rebellion on?"
Penrose blinked a few times. "You would be right, but only if Stannis knew about the Queen's infidelity at the time. Perhaps he was presented with evidence after he left King's Landing."
He was annoyingly good at getting around the false binary choices I was framing my uncle's character with. I suppose being selected as a steward and de-facto ruler of the Stormlands meant you had some sense.
"Then why was Ser Davos anchored in the port, supposedly for my sake? Brienne can attest, I spoke with Ser Seaworth's son. Brienne of Tarth and my guards cornered armed men who were stalking us through the streets of the city. When confronted, Allard Seaworth stated he was there to take me out of the city in case it was necessary. Why were agents of Stannis in the city? Either Stannis knew something or he was plotting something, if he knew something, then he was honor-bound to present it to my father. If he was plotting something…"
Ser Ronnet shouted, "Ser Cortnay may believe Brienne is not a liar, but it would be foolish to make decisions and listen to stories with no other 'proof' than the word of a mannish freak who…"
The castellan of Storm's End shut him down swiftly and with a fury. Brienne was paying off in so many ways, truly my most valuable subordinate since Visha Serebryakov.
Lord Caspar Wylde nursed his head and raised his voice. "My lords, what are we doing here? This girl is just talking in circles. What if this, what if that. Stannis Baratheon has always done his duty, and we should do ours and hold true to our oath to him."
Alesander Staedmon laughed. "I'm sorry it is so confusing for you to follow, Caspar; I'm sure she'll repeat herself if you got lost."
"Quiet, Pennylover; she's trying to trick us all with her ceaseless words. More fool you if you heed them."
Things were starting to look up; at the start I'd had none of these lords, and now I believed I had at least two.
"I have additional evidence. I have corresponded with my dear cousin Shireen Baratheon. You are welcome to read over the letters, in particularly, in this one she says "Father does like his onions, and if you find any, you should know that they are good for you," after I wrote to her about my interaction with Allard Seaworth."
Some of the lords picked up the letters and began to read through them. The part about the onion line really wasn't important; what mattered was her other letters. Letters about her seeing strange ships she hadn't seen before, about how there were many strangers on the island, and how she was told they were sellswords. The implication that I did not speak was that Stannis had hired sellswords, maybe the same sellswords who were in the Kingswood…
"Also note, my cousin worried over the new faith her mother had found, R'hllor, the Lord of Light. Let me turn your attention to one letter in particular, "Mother wishes me to give up the Seven and had me talk to Melisandre, who is often with father. I like her not; she looks at me like a cat views a mouse."
I lowered the pitch of my voice and made it quieter. "Recall how Stannis signed his letter outlining his claim to the throne. 'Done in the Light of the Lord.' Do you recall, my lords?"
A few knights, who likely hadn't read the letter, looked about in confusion. Cortnay Penrose still had the letter and ordered one of his men-at-arms to go retrieve it, though he verbally confirmed recalling those lines well.
"That phrase is used by the faith of R'hllor. Stannis, who swore knightly oaths to the Seven, now follows a different faith. Is this the same man who fought in my father's Rebellion?"
Now I saw raw and naked doubt.
"I hold none of you at fault for believing in the man that Stannis Baratheon used to be. I hold none of you at fault for believing the duped Lord Stark."
I took out my final letter and handed it across the table to our host.
"The Hand's seal, unbroken." Cortnay announced. He opened it and read aloud. "The Hand has declared Myrcella Baratheon, trueborn child of Robert Baratheon, the Lady of Storm's End. The Paramount Lady of the Stormlands!"
Beric chose that moment to speak of his own volition. "I have no love for the Lannisters, but Myrcella Baratheon is a Baratheon first and foremost. I'd follow her; Blackhaven will renew its vows and swear fealty!"
Other knights made to stand up, but Lord Sebastain quickly shouted. "No! Stannis is the true Baratheon; don't be guiled by parchment and words. Stannis is the King; we have declared already!"
Penrose shook his head. "We've already agreed earlier, if we believe Cersei's children are Robert's, we owe them our allegiance." He looked to me, "You have my oath as well. I will need to write to my father; once he has heard from me, Parchments is yours to command."
Like a dam breaking, dozens of voices began speaking at once. Some claimed for me, others wanted to hold true to Stannis. Of the major houses and relevant landed knights, it was roughly 50/50. Penrose, Staedmon, Fell and Dondarrian had declared for me. Errol, Lonmouth, Wylde, Buckler, Connington, and Ser Patrek remained loyal to Uncle Stannis.
This was a problem. Save for Beric Dondarrion, none of the Marcher Lords were here to decide. Other major houses, such as Estermont, Cafferen, Peasebury, and Grandison had not yet arrived with their forces to Storm's End. I wanted a united Stormlands, not one that I would have to subdue over several months. Given the nature of fortresses and castles, it was extremely difficult and costly to storm a fortification, and sieges took time. No, if I wanted the other houses to side with me quickly, I needed to do better than just half the houses and knights in attendance here. I needed them all.
I had been calm throughout the entire debate, but now I felt my heart begin beating in earnest. I didn't want to take this next step, but it had to be done. I struggled to keep a smile off my face; I suppose the chance to make history brought forth positive emotions, even if I hated what I was going to have to do next.
"Lord Caspar Wylde! You still believe that Joffrey is not Robert's son?"
He waited a moment before answering to regard me with a considering gaze, meeting my eyes head-on. "Aye, your brother is a bastard. You may or may not be, but I will not allow Cersei fucking Lannister to plant a Lannister boy with no drop of Baratheon blood in his accursed body on the Iron Throne."
"You have made a grave accusation against my family. They say words are wind, then let us let deeds decide. Let the Seven judge Joffrey's birth. Your great grand uncle fought in the last recorded Trial of Seven. Let us have another, should you dare."
The house of Wylde knew what the Trial by Seven was, as did others, but many looked around in confusion.
One knight asked, "What is that?"
"Ser Barristan, if you would explain," I said.
"It is an ancient form of trial by combat, between accuser and accused. Seven is considered a sacred number, and it was an Andal tradition that if seven champions fought on each side, the gods, thus being honored, would take a hand and see a just result. The last known Trial of Seven was between Aerion Targaryen and Ser Duncan the Tall."
"Thank you, ser," I say to Barristan. "What I propose is this, let us decide here and now the nature of Cersei's children. Those who believe he is baseborn can select champions against me, and I will select champions who believe he is my father's true heir. Would that not be better than to have the rest of Westeros mock us for not collectively choosing a side?
Immediately, there was an air of anticipation as knights and lords hungry for honor and battle salivated at the idea of being chosen for such a historic confrontation. This was perhaps the only kingdom where this ploy would work. The North and the Iron Isles were as martial, but they did not hold to the Seven. The others decided things differently, and that was to their credit. Who the hell thought 'might makes right' would make for the best decisions? Not to mention the ridiculous notion of leaving it in the hands of the Seven. It was repugnant, but I would use any tool necessary.
I could see clearly that several in the Stannis camp were conflicted. They wanted to participate and to win. For some, it was because they didn't want to appear craven. Others wanted the glory. I imagined they also wanted to avoid an ugly civil war within the Stormlands. With intermingling marriages, the chances of kin fighting kin were high.
Lord Errol looked at me. "Trial of seven? Conditionally, I can consider it. If it is to be done, we should do it soon. I say only those in this hall or in the camps outside would be from the pool of available candidates. We could use the tourney grounds outside, and we'll not subject steeds that are needed for war to this, so no mounts."
A knight in service to House Penrose muttered 'craven', and I knew why. Ser Barristan had entered limping and walking with a cane, but on horseback he would still be greatly feared. Without a steed, he really wouldn't help me here. As I made a show of considering, other knights were moving next to Lord Errol to try to dissuade him from agreeing to it at all.
My hand was forced. I had to do it, I had to throw down the gauntlet in a way that could not be ignored. No choice, really.
"Your terms are acceptable. Lord Errol. Do not mistake my intention; I am proposing that this matter be fully decided here and now. The Trial of Seven takes place tomorrow, and every lord and knight here must abide by the outcome. Should your seven fall, all here will view Joffrey as the true King of the Seven Kingdoms. Are we all in agreement?"
Sebastian Errol was listening to Lord Buckler at his ear. "We will consider it and provide you an answer in the morning. I will meet with those who view Joffrey Waters as the bastard he is and discuss if we will accept and who will represent us. You should have your seven champions prepared and ready as well."
I bared my teeth. "You'll show; what Stormlander wouldn't want to test their mettle for a cause they believe in!? But you mistake me, my Lord. It is not my seven champions that will face you but my six." I let that sit for but a second before continuing. "I am so confident that the Seven will judge justly and prove my brother is trueborn that I will take part."
All three of the knights I brought with me made to object, but the Stormland knights in the hall who sided with me roared in powerful approval over their words. I had stripped every possible excuse from the Stannis loyalists. Those who were pragmatic and would not have agreed due to a fear of loss now felt it was a seven on six battle, and one where the six did not have Ser Barristan. Those, who viewed things through a lens of honor, felt obligated to participate. The pious could not resist the idea of the Trial of Seven. The glory hungry would clamor to be included. The lords and knightly houses who opposed me would find it nearly impossible to refuse the Trial of Seven now.
If I survived, I would be the undisputed Lady of Storm's End. I'd probably still appoint a Regent, if only in name, for appearances. I'd have to talk with the various lords and see who would be amenable to the idea.
Granted, it was a bit of a house of cards as, once Stark made the claim that Cersei confessed to the infidelity, I couldn't very well have my cake and eat it too. I'd have to try to keep away the Stormlords from any parley meetings with Lord Stark in the short term. Long term, the houses sworn to my cause who had initially sworn to Stannis would become a hopeless laughingstock if they turned cloak yet again. Stannis and his reputation for harshness was working in my favor; I could not imagine my uncle being merciful to those who forswore.
Those were thoughts that only mattered if I won the trial. Time to go speak with Ser Cortnay and see what knights would be suitable. Oh, and deal with the knights I brought with me, who all were going to insist I not participate. It was a deep sort of irony that their arguments were probably 100% correct, rational, and proper, and yet I would still have to defend my participation. It was a pity that it was so necessary; I truly hated putting my life on the line this way.