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***
The duties of a royal squire proved to be unburdensome. All Light had to do was fill the king's cup with wine when it was empty, and feign admiration when the king reminisced about his past exploits. The rest of the time Light was free. He read the book Lord Baelish had mentioned about the origins of the great houses. Pycelle was surprised at Lancel's sudden interest in genealogy, but Light dispelled his doubts by saying he wanted to learn more about his glorious ancestors. The Grand Maester found Lythe's eagerness highly commendable, and gave him the book without further questioning. Looking through the yellowed pages, Light saw that Baelish was right: all the Baratheons since Lord Orys, Aegon the Conqueror's associate, had been black-haired. Moreover, the Baratheons and the Lannisters had twice been related in three centuries, and in both cases the children had also been black-haired. Yes, in the right hands, this book could be dangerous.
So the first ingredient of the future war - proof of the princes' illegitimate ancestry - was in place. And if Baelish wasn't lying and the Hand really suspects the queen of treason, Light's task is even easier: no need to encourage anyone to think Cersei is unfaithful, just be aware of the investigation and take out the king no sooner than Lord Arryn gets close to solving it. Light hoped he would hang around long enough for Joffrey to have time to visit Highgarden and meet with Margaery. The King and Lord Tyrell had already approved the trip. The visit was scheduled for the following month.
After returning the book to Pycelle, Light went down to the castle courtyard where the squires were training. Light said hello to Tyrek and to his new friend Hugh, who served as squire to Lord Arryn. Hugh was arrogant, boastful, and a drinker, and when he drank, he liked to chat with his mate about his lord's affairs. Being friends with a member of the powerful Lannister family flattered Hugh's ego, and he tried his best to impress Light by flaunting his knowledge. From Hugh, Light learned of the quarrel between Lord and Lady Arryn over the Hand's intentions to give their son Robin to Lord Stannis to raise. Light had seen Lady Lysa and her son only once: a fat, unkempt woman and a small, frightened boy clinging to her skirt hurried across the courtyard and into the Hand's tower. According to Hugh, Lady Arryn was extremely protective of her son's fragile health. No wonder the threat of separation from Robin made her so furious.
A week ago, the King had mentioned to Light that the Hand wanted to give his son to Lord Tywin to raise, which was at odds with the information he'd received from Hugh. Had Jon Arryn lied to his friend and suzerain? Or perhaps some new circumstance had changed his plans?
Wondering at the Hand's strange behaviour, Light missed a simple body blow from Hugh and fell clumsily onto his back. It didn't hurt so much as it hurt. As he got up, Light saw the Grand Maester striding past, holding under his arm the book On the Origin and History of the Great Houses of Westeros. Pycelle moved with an agility uncharacteristic of his age and soon disappeared into the Tower of the Hand. With a simple-minded look, Light inquired:
- Hugh, do you happen to know if it is your lord the Grand Maester is in such a hurry to see you?
- Well, yes,' Hugh said. - Lord Arryn wanted to borrow some book from him, but someone else took it earlier. And now they must have returned it, so the old man ran.
- Aye,' said Light. - How long has Lord Arryn been waiting for it? The book, you mean?
- A week or so,' Hugh said. - I remember that day he and Lord Stannis came back from the armourer's shop, locked themselves in the study and talked long and hard, and then Lord Arryn went to the Maester for the book, but he came back with nothing and said it would have to wait until it was returned. And in the evening, Lord and Lady Arryn fought over Robin.
- What did Lord Arryn buy from the armourer?
Hugh shrugged his shoulders.
- Nothing, I suppose. Just talked to him and his apprentice. Do you know what Tobho Mott's prices are? Though you,' Hugh sighed enviously, 'might be able to afford it. You're a Lannister.
- Where is this shop?
- Steel Street, fifth house.
What had the Hand seen in that shop that had sparked his interest in The Origins and History of the Great Houses and made him change his plans for his son? Light decided that he should definitely see the armourer and his apprentice.
***
- What an honour, My Lord Lannister,' the shopkeeper said graciously, awarding Light a title that was not his own. - What an honour to see such a fine young man from such a fine family on the doorstep of my humble establishment. Would you like to purchase a sword or a dagger? I can make the hilt in gold and mould it in the shape of lions, like your house coat of arms. Or perhaps you would like a helmet or breastplate?
With a bored look on his face, Light glanced round at the goods for sale. The armourer, meanwhile, was praising himself:
- My goods are not cheap, it's true, but they are worth the money. Just the other day, my Lord Hand himself, along with Lord Stannis, the King's brother, honoured me with their presence!
- It must have been the most profitable day of the year?
The merchant's face darkened.
- No. My lords bought nothing from me, though they chatted for an hour with me and my apprentice.
- Your apprentice?
- If it pleases you, My Lord Lannister, I'll fetch him. Gendry! Hey, Gendry! Get back here, I say!
A young man of sturdy build, black-haired, blue-eyed, like the King's younger brother Renly, who was said to be the spitting image of Robert in his youth.
It's clear. I'd better not ask him anything, lest those who follow in my footsteps get suspicious. I should buy something and get out of here.
Shrugging his shoulders, as if he had no interest in the royal bastard, Light began to look at the display of daggers. Choosing a slightly curved blade with an ivory hilt, Light asked about the price. The vendor quoted a sum. Light grimaced (Hugh wasn't lying, the price was steep), counted out the money, and slipped the dagger into his belt.
On the way to Red Castle, Light summarised everything he had learned during the day.
Lord Arryn was close to a clue. He's found the bastard, he's found the book, and he'll report back to the king soon. If I do nothing, in a week or two, Cersei's head will be off my shoulders, House Lannister will be in disgrace, and me with it. The King will take a new wife, have legitimate children with her, and Westeros will enjoy peace for many more years... slowly degenerating under the rule of a worthless drunken king. No! Robert Baratheon must die, and die soon. It's too bad Joffrey never got to go to Highgarden and fall in love with Margaery, but it can't be helped. We can't delay. We need to take the queen as an accomplice and seize power.
***
Cersei greeted him with a kind smile and a cold stare.
- Lancel, what a pleasant surprise,' she said. The cat-green eyes, so similar to the ones Light was used to seeing in the mirror, held a threat. - I'm told you're having a great time. Visiting brothels and drinking with the squires. Did Tyrion have that effect on you, or my husband?
It wasn't Light's intention to make excuses. He needed to shock her and confuse her to get the conversation moving in the right direction.
- Your Majesty, I've come to warn you of the danger you face. Your enemies want to slander you before the king, perhaps even kill you.
Cersei flinched.
- What enemies? I have no enemies.
- Your majesty, it would be best if we continued this conversation where we could not be overheard.
Cersei bit her lip, pondering. Finally, she made up her mind.
- Let's go to the sept.
That's a good idea. Loud prayers and chants will prevent the overly curious from hearing the quiet words exchanged between Queen and squire.
After placing the candles on the Mother's altar, Light and Cersei knelt down and folded their palms in a gesture of ostentatious piety. The queen's elbow touched Light's elbow.
- What the hell are you talking about? - Cersei hissed angrily. - What enemies? If this is some kind of ploy to make me look like a fool ...
- Jon Arryn and Stannis Baratheon. They want to accuse you of treason, want to claim your children are not your husband's.
Fear and rage mingled on the Queen's face.
- It's a lie! A vile, vile slander!
- Of course, your majesty. It is a lie. You are guilty of nothing. But your enemies will stop at nothing to smear and destroy you. They have tracked down several of Robert's bastards and claim they are more like their father than his legitimate children. They've also got a book that proves all Baratheons have been black-haired for centuries--
- How do you know all this? - Cersei interrupted Light.
- Hugh, Jon Arryn's squire, told me some of it. He's very chatty, especially when he's drunk. I read the book myself. The Grand Maester gave it to me.
Cersei looked surprised.
- Oh, my. I must admit I didn't expect you to be so prompt, Lancel. I apologise if I've been a little rude to you.
- I am happy to serve you, your majesty.
Cersei smiled affectionately at him.
- 'It is very good of you to tell me this, Lancel. So Stannis and Jon Arryn...
- They could come to the King at any moment with their false, fabricated 'proofs.' If Robert believes them - and he's foolish enough to do so - you will be in mortal danger, your majesty.
- And what do you suggest? Run away?
- No, your majesty. We must strike first.
- Kill Jon Arryn?
- Kill the king.
Cersei grabbed Light's fingers and clenched them tightly. She really, really wanted to believe Light, but she was afraid.
- When the king goes hunting, I'll try to get him drunk. The hunt usually lasts a few days, and Robert will have plenty of opportunity to break his neck or die from the fangs of some beast. When he dies, your son will be king and you will be his regent. All your enemies' arguments will be null and void, all their labours undone. And they will probably retire. Or prison.
Cersei shrieked like a little girl and kissed Light quickly on the lips.
- My sweet Lancel,' the queen whispered languidly. - How can I ever thank you?
- A position on the Small Council - say, master over the law - and a knighthood.
Light cared little for the latter, but it would be strange not to ask for it, for all boy squires dream of becoming knights. And the title 'sire' might be useful, raising Lyte's status in the eyes of those who cared. Cersei looked slightly disappointed, apparently she had expected Light to ask her to be his mistress. Frankly, Light would be fine with that - but not when Jaime is around.
The septon appeared and grumbled, noting that squealing and kissing were not proper in front of the Seven, not even for a queen. Cersei made a lean face.
- Oh, I'm sorry. I was overwhelmed by religious sentiment.
When the septon had gone, Light said:
- Your Majesty, we must hurry. Try to influence the king to go hunting as soon as possible.
Cersei grinned contemptuously.
- 'Well, that will be easy. Tonight I'll tell him that his favourite hunt is a foolish and useless pastime, and he'd be better off spending more time with his children. Tomorrow morning he'll go to the woods, you'll see.