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***
Smoke from the buildings burning on the riverbank drifted over the harbour. Cersei wrinkled her nose and sneezed. With her right hand, the queen held onto Light's left arm and with her left waved to her daughter, who stood on the deck of the galley. 'The Song of the Waters was sailing for Braavos. As soon as King's Landing was out of sight, Myrcella would dye her hair brown and dress as a merchant's daughter, while her young green-eyed companion would dye her hair blonde and dress as a princess. If Stannis's men intercept them on the way, they won't touch Myrcella.
Light explained all this to the girl before kissing her little hand and wishing her a pleasant journey. Myrcella, in turn, wished 'Uncle Lancel' victory over 'no good Uncle Stannis'. Cersei appointed Ser Barristan as the princess's bodyguard at Light's suggestion. Joffrey's service was clearly not to his liking, and given his good relationship with Lord Eddard, Barristan's switch to the enemy seemed likely. Sending the old man to protect the girl would keep her from enemies and him from treason.
Tommen left the city in the morning. Ser Aris Oakheart and Ser Mendon Moore took the prince to Rosby, where he was to hide until Stannis was defeated. Three men were left to protect Joffrey: Ser Preston Greenfield, Ser Merrin Trant and the Hound. One is small, one is cunning, and one is afraid of fire. Light had heard the story of how Sandor Clegane got his burns back in the Cliff.
A heroic death in battle is the best thing that can happen to Joffrey. Three days ago that king fired a crossbow at his subjects who came to the Red Keep to ask for bread. It could lead to a riot. A docile Tommen is much more comfortable as king, and there's no risk of him turning Margaery against him. Cersei, of course, will grieve. She will turn to Light for comfort, and he will not miss a chance to reinforce her dependence on him.
On the way back to Red Castle, Cersei playfully pinched Light, whispering obscenities in his ear. He'd exhausted her last night, and even the separation from her youngest children couldn't dampen her mood.
Reaching the bedroom, Cersei sipped her wine and pounced on Light with kisses. The soft cream dress with open shoulders and airy ruffles that made the queen look like a fairy was mercilessly crumpled and thrown onto the expensive Myrian carpet. Cersei's shoes, her underwear, and all of Light's clothes went with them. With a smooth sway of her hips, the queen walked over to the bedside table, picked up the golden crown, and slipped it on over her head.
- Fuck me in it,' she asked.
- You're such a naughty girl, Cersei. Maybe next time we can do it in the sept.
Cersei laughed and wrapped her arms around Light and whirled him around the bedroom. By the bedside, Light let go of her. Cersei flopped onto her round arse, spread her slender legs and cupped her breasts. Light inserted two fingers into her and licked her nipples. Cersei squinted contentedly like a fed cat. When her nipples hardened and Light's fingers were covered in pearly moisture, he let Cersei lick them and thrust all the way in.
After cumming herself and waiting for Light to cum on her breasts, Cersei reached for the crown that had fallen off in the process, but Light intercepted her wrists. Cersei laughingly lashed out, Light pulled her hair, and now the Lannisters were rolling back and forth on the huge bed, kicking, biting, and trying to get on top. Cersei won. Sitting on top of Light, she placed the crown on her head in triumph.
- We've played enough,' she said. - It's time for you, Ser Lancel, to attend to the queen's needs. That's an order!
***
His Wisdom Gallin, head of the alchemists' guild, furrowed his brow.
- Coal, sulphur and saltpeter? I have heard of such a mixture, Ser Lancel. It's called gunpowder. It's used for fireworks in faraway Qarth, but hardly anyone in Westeros knows about it. How did you know about gunpowder, Ser Lancel?
Well, gunpowder was invented in this world, but they hadn't thought of using it as an explosive yet.
- I read it in one of Cliff's books. And I had an idea. If you make a metal tube, sealed at one end, fill it with gunpowder, put a metal ball on top, and then set it on fire, what happens?
- Nothing. The gunpowder will simply burn up.
- If the proportion of saltpeter in the composition is large enough, and the gunpowder is compressed in a small closed volume, instead of burning, there will be an explosion. The metal ball will fly out of the tube like a stone flying out of a volcano.
The old pyromancer blinked.
- What an interesting idea, Sir Lancel! Have you made such an experiment?
- I have not had the opportunity. But with your help, I hope to do so.
- What you're saying is theoretically possible, but I don't see the benefit. Why throw metal balls when there's wildfire?
- And how do you use wild fire? Pour it into pots and catapult it at the enemy, right?
- That's right.
- The accuracy and range of the catapults leaves a lot to be desired. Often the projectiles miss their target, and sometimes they explode on the spot, killing their own instead of the enemy.
- Are you saying, Ser Lancel, that these metal tubes of yours can replace the catapults?
- Exactly. And the wildfire inside a metal ball will be more resistant to shaking than inside a clay pot. It will only explode when it hits its target.
- Hmm,' Gallin scratched his chin. - Maybe there's something to it. Perhaps we should experiment.
- Very well. In the meantime, I'll have the blacksmiths make metal balls and tubes. Though,' Light said, 'it's unlikely that you'll be able to get tubes of the right size and shape the first time. Wooden ones will do for experiments. They may be disposable, but they are much easier to make. Once we have the length and diameter of the barrel we need, we'll move on to metal.
***
The executioners had done a good job. Janos Slynt looked terrible. He was grey and thin, his wounds oozing dark blood, his joints twisted at unnatural angles. If he had given up all his stash at once, the torture would have ended sooner. But Slint stalled, apparently hoping his patron would save him. He never gave his name. Obviously out of fear.
- Come on, Slint,' Light said reproachfully. - What's the point of going to such pains for a man who doesn't care about you? Yes, yes, I mean Lord Baelish. - From the expression on Slint's face, Light realised that his guess was correct. - Littlefinger didn't lift a finger to get you out of here. And why would he? You got nothing left, no money, no position. He's written you off. I could still use you.
Light paused, waiting for Slint to digest what he'd heard. Meanwhile, a table was brought into the cell and lunch was served. An inkwell, pen and paper appeared on a small table nearby.
- Give evidence against Baelish, and your suffering will cease. You will be fed and moved to another cell with better conditions. Then there will be a trial and you will be sentenced to the Wall.
Slint's eyes glistened and drooled. But he was still trying to bargain.
- And my family? If Lord Baelish found out I'd turned him in, my wife and children would be in trouble.
- They will be protected,' Light promised. - If you like, I can have gold cloaks guard your house. Or take your family to another city. Or even abroad.
- Lord Baelish will be tried?
- I'll try to arrange it.
Light knew it wouldn't be easy. His own authority isn't enough to arrest a member of the small council of his rank. He needs the Queen's authorisation. But his influence with Cersei has limits, and something told Light that she wouldn't give him Baelish. Besides Cersei, Joffrey or Tywin could have ordered Baelish's arrest. The former could not be counted on, and the latter was far away. But sooner or later the fighting will be over, my uncle will return to the capital, and that's when Slint's testimony will come into play.
- Very well, Ser Lancel. I'll tell you everything and I'll write it up.
***
- The man is thankful for clean clothes and a new cell. The man is much more comfortable here than in a stone sack. Although man would prefer freedom.
- Answer my questions and maybe you'll get it.
Jaqen Hgar smiled weakly.
- Maybe? Well, a man has no choice. Let the good young man ask his questions.
- You said you were locked up for fighting with the guardsmen. Rugen claims you didn't kill anyone. Is that true?
- Why would the good young man ask a question he already knows the answer to?
Light has decided to adopt his way of speaking.
- The good young man wants to know if the man is lying or not.
Jaqen Hgar smiled.
- The good young man is perceptive. Good. The man killed several guardsmen.
- Apparently, the man is a very good fighter. What did the man do before he came here?
- The man has had many occupations. Lately, the man has been killing people for money.
This conversation is getting interesting. It's a good thing I saw this coming and had the guards tap the cell walls for voids. There's no way to escape or overhear the words spoken here.
- The man doesn't look like a mercenary.
- Appearances can be deceiving. A good young man does not look like a killer, but his eyes are the eyes of death. A good young man has taken many, many lives.
- Man is wrong. The good young man has never killed anyone.
- A good young man can't lie. His lips say one thing and his eyes say another.
Who the hell is he?!
- The Good Young Man doesn't want to continue this conversation. The good young man wants a man to serve him.
- What must a man do?
Ser Jaselin hasn't caught anyone suitable yet, but this strange Jaqen may be just the man. I'll put him to the test. If he turns out to be a crook, no problem, all I lose is a little gold. But if he's who I think he is, he'll make a fine head of the secret service.
- A good young man will make a man's escape. This night between 3:00 and 5:00, there will be no guards in the corridor. The man will open the door,' Light held out a key to Jaqen, 'and be free. The good young man will give the man money,' the purse of gold moved from Light's pocket into Jaqen's palm. - If the man wants more, he must complete the task and wait for the good young man every day at seven o'clock in the evening at the Broken Anvil Tavern. The good young man wants to warn the man right away. If a person tries to retell his conversation with the good youth to someone else, even his relatives, the good youth will spare no effort to find and kill the person.
- The man will not give away the good youth's secrets. If the good young man wants to, the man will swear it by all the gods.
- No need. Words are wind,' Light remembered a local saying. - A man will prove his loyalty by deeds.
- What deed does the good young man intend to entrust a man with?
I had originally planned to kill the bastards, but they were hidden by a man who has tried to foil my plans twice already. If Jaqen fails and is arrested again, he'll fall into my hands, and I'll make sure he doesn't say anything. But what if the eunuch finds out anyway? Then he'll either run away or try to kill me. I'll have to get a food taster and walk around with a bodyguard until the threat is eliminated. I'll be fine. This temporary inconvenience is nothing compared to the months I spent chained to L.
- A good young man wants a man to kill someone.
- The good young man must give a name.
It's like a living death notebook. Well, at least you don't have to put a face to it.
- Varys.