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***
Light didn't get a chance to talk to Podrick. Two soldiers led him across the courtyard so quickly that Light barely had time to exchange a glance with his squire. Well, at least Podrick is free. Stannis kept his word.
The king did not think it necessary to guard Podrick, but Light was guarded tightly. There were two men on watch at the door of his room, twice a day. Whenever Light needed to go anywhere, whether to the dining room or the lavatory, the guards followed him. They were commanded by Ser Bonifer Hastie, an elderly and very pious knight who occasionally mentioned the Seven.
This was an opportunity, Light decided. He asked his jailer for a copy of the Seven-Pointed Star for prayer and pious reflection. Ser Bonifer willingly complied.
After polishing the book for about an hour and memorising a few quotations, Light had a long conversation with Ser Bonifer, in which he portrayed a repentant sinner eager to reacquaint himself with the faith. At the end of the conversation, the old knight was kinder to his young prisoner and fulfilled his second request: Light received a needle and thread to mend his clothes, which had been torn in battle. Light spent the evening of that day, which began in his prison cell, sewing. The stitches were rough and crooked, and the needle was too thick and too big. You could kill a man with a needle like that, if you got close enough and the victim wasn't alert.
On the second day the work began.
The night before, Light had dictated to Ser Bonifer the list of materials needed. By morning they had all been delivered to the Dragon's Lair. It was there, on Reynis Hill, where the Targaryens had kept their dragons over a hundred years ago, that the man was to take to the air once more. If he succeeded, which he wasn't sure he would. He had no experience in aeronautics, he knew only the general principle. But Light didn't need success. He had bargained Stannis for a week not to help him, but to escape.
The idea of using the balloon under construction to escape was all too obvious, and Stannis had certainly envisaged it. The Dragon's Lair was guarded day and night. The labourers worked, Light supervised, the soldiers and Ser Bonifer watched. In the evening, Light returned to Red Castle, the workers went home and the guards stayed behind. As he passed the castle gates, Light saw Podrick. With a shout of joy, the squire ran towards him.
- Ser Lancel! I didn't get a chance to thank you yesterday. You got us both out of jail after all!
Though Light had no plan yet, only a vague intention, he realised at that moment that Podrick was destined to play a key role. The squire, unlike him, is free. And he will willingly do whatever Light tells him to do. But how do you convey an order with Ser Bonifer standing over your shoulder, listening intently to every word?
- It's not that simple, Podrick,' Light sighed. - The King has given me a week to make the balloon. If the result is not achieved, I will go back to prison. I don't know if I can meet the deadline. All that remains is to pray to the Seven, and above all to the Blacksmith, for, as the sacred books say, he is the patron saint of all work, not just blacksmithing.
Podrick flapped his eyes in silence.
- I'm going to the sept right now,' Light continued. - Will you pray with me, Podrick?
Ser Bonifer moved behind Light's shoulder.
- 'I'm sorry, Ser Lancel, but it's impossible. His Grace's orders are clear: you are forbidden to be alone with your family, your subordinates, your friends. Even for such a pious cause.
- I understand, Ser Bonifer,' Light said humbly. - Well, then, I will ask Podrick to pray to the Blacksmith after me. Will you do that for me, Podrick?
The squire looked surprised, but nodded nonetheless.
- 'Yes, Ser Lancel. Of course.
- Come, Ser Bonifer. Praise the Seven and hope they answer our pleas.
Ser Bonifer looked touched. It even seemed to Light that the old man was wiping away a tear.
- You are on the right path, Ser Lancel. Your service to the false king, your sinful liaison with the queen are all in the past. Now you have faith, and prayer is the quickest way to repentance.
***
At the Blacksmith's altar, Light found himself alone for the first time. Ser Bonifer had delicately moved away so as not to interfere with his communion with the gods. Light set down the candle, opened his prayer book, and moved his lips. A moment later he glanced at Ser Bonifer, who was looking the other way, and quickly pulled a sewing needle from his pocket. After pricking his finger, Light wrote a few words on the torn piece of page. Then he dried the note over the candle and crumpled it up and hid it under the nearest candelabra, leaving the edge sticking out. Light hoped Podrick would be smart enough to look for the message.
In the morning, praying again at the Blacksmith's altar, Light found the answer. Overhearing conversations in the guardhouse, the squire found out where Cersei and Tyrek were being held and the name of the red-faced jailer. The queen-fucker's name was Will. Will was on alternating shifts, a day on the first level and a day on the second, with the third day off. Today was his day off. He would be on the second level, where Cersei was imprisoned, the day after tomorrow.
Light grinned. If Will had a different schedule that didn't include duty at the queen's cell, Cersei would have to be killed. Podrick would have found a vial of 'sweet sleep' hidden in Light's former office - another poison provided to him by Pycelle - and poisoned the queen's food. Light was sure he could convince Podrick to go for it. A quick and merciful death was better than public humiliation at trial and subsequent public execution. But Cersei was lucky. Thanks to one lusty fool, the queen will be saved.
There were a few little things to find out: what the prisoner ate and when, and who brought her food.
In the evening Light learnt that the queen was kept on bread and water, which the cook brought her twice a day. The next morning, Light left not one but two notes in the sept - for Podrick and for Cersei - and a needle. He won't need it again.
When he read Podrick's reply (the squire had managed to sneak into the kitchen and switch Cersei's loaf with another, where he had stuck the needle and note), Light congratulated himself on his success. The hardest part of the plan was done, and the last step was left. Podrick had done brilliantly - he was the future head of the secret service! - and now it's up to Light.
On the evening of the fourth day, Light told Ser Bonifer that he wanted to see his cousin Tirek.
- He's only twelve,' Light reassured him, 'and he's not involved in any crime. I know His Grace King Stannis has forbidden me to see the queen. I don't want to see that horrible woman, whose charms I foolishly succumbed to. But there's no ban on my cousin, is there? He is not even a defendant, but a hostage!
Ser Bonifer thought for a moment and agreed.
- Very well, Ser Lancel. When do you wish to visit your cousin?
- Tomorrow night.
- So be it. But you'll have to speak in the presence of the guards. I can't help it, it's the King's orders.
- Thank you, Ser Bonifer. You've been so kind to me.
On the fifth day, Will went on duty outside Cersei's cell, having already received the needle and the note, and on the same day Light was taken to Tyrek's cell. As he passed Will, Light winked at him. Enjoy the last few minutes of your life, Will. I remember when you said that after sex with the queen, you could die. I'm not sure about sex, Will-- unless Cersei's in the mood-- but you will die, I guarantee it. Lannisters always pay the price. I hope you had time to spend the hundred dragons you took from me in exchange for a chance to talk to Stannis. I took my chance-- did you, Will?
The conversation with Tyrek was long and empty. Light spoke the usual words of encouragement, assured his cousin that he was remembered, and advised him not to give up hope. Towards the end, the poor man became completely despondent and, unashamedly, cried on Light's chest. No wonder. He was a boy of noble birth and only twelve. He'd spent his whole life among his family and servants, surrounded by care. Suddenly he's in prison. Light, at least, had a similar experience: to remove L's suspicions, he voluntarily went to prison and even lost his memory. Then he was able to deceive L, return the notebook with his memories, and get out of a situation that seemed hopeless. He can do it now.
- See you later, Tirek. I hope you'll be released soon.
- See you soon, Lancel.
The corridor is narrow and dark. One guard in front, one behind. Light is in the middle. Torches glow, casting clawed shadows on the walls. They can't see faces well, but they can see the Baratheon stag on the doublet of the guard walking towards them. He is of medium height (a woman of such stature would be considered tall), slender, long hair glistening gold. The colour of his eyes can't be seen, but Light knows they're green.
- Hey, who are you? - was surprised by the soldier who was walking ahead of Light. - I don't know you! You're not Will!
Not Will drew his sword. At the same instant, Light spun on his heels and kicked the man behind him in the groin. The man crouched, Light pulled the sword from its sheath, turned again, and plunged the blade into the back of the man in front, successfully fending off Cersei's attack. Kicking the corpse with his foot, Light leapt forward, turned round a third time and stood shoulder to shoulder with the Queen.
The second guard had already recovered from the pain, but the situation had changed drastically in the past few seconds. He was now alone and unarmed - against two armed enemies. He turned and ran, but Light cut him off at his feet and Cersei delivered a blow to his back. The queen regarded the blood on her blade with a pleased-surprised expression. It was the second man she had killed and the first killed in battle. Cersei brought the bloody sword closer to her face, stuck out her pink tongue and licked the blood away.
- How was it? Is it good?
- It's gross,' Cersei admitted and then suddenly burst into laughter. She laughed and hugged Light until he shoved her away.
- We'll be happy later. Right now, we need to free Tyrek. I think this one had the keys... yeah, I found them. Give me a hand.
Light was putting on the armour of the guard he killed.
- No one helped me,' Cersei grumbled, but it was more for show. - It took me nearly an hour to get this harness on! I was never taught to wear armour - I'm a woman!
- I saw it coming, and I spoke to Tyrek longer on purpose,' Light said. - How did it go with Will?
Cersei shrugged.
- Seducing him was easy. The fool opened the cell, took off his clothes, put his weapon on the floor, and started pawing me. Drooled all over me, brrrrr. But I stuck the needle in here,' Cersei pointed to the carotid artery, 'just like you told me to. Bloody awful. I almost threw up. Wasn't there a cleaner way?
- There was, Light said. - You could stick a needle in the eye. But that's hard. It's easier and safer in the neck.
- I don't know how to feel about you,' Cersei said as they walked to Tyrek's cell. - You saved me, but you lost the battle and you didn't save my son. What am I supposed to do with you, Lancel? Do I slap you or kiss you?
- 'Slap me,' Light suggested, 'and then kiss me.
So Cersei did.
***
- What now? - Cersei asked as the two of them dressed Tyrek in the armour of the third dead guard. The chain mail reached his cousin's knees, but you couldn't tell in the dungeons unless you looked closely. - You wrote of an underground passage, but you didn't say where it was. Why?
- So you wouldn't run off alone and leave me prisoner. Don't tell me you wouldn't do that. I know you too well, Cersei.
The queen laughed.
- So where's the door, Lancel?
- On the third level of the dungeons.
- I forgot to ask: How did you manage to get the note to me when you were in custody?
- Podrick,' Light answered briefly.
- Your squire? He's not coming with us?
- No, he's going out the other way, through the kitchen. Just in case we were caught, so that someone would get to Lord Tywin and tell him the news.
- How did you get out of the cell?
- Through the door,' Light grinned. - Tyrek, you go first. Cersei, you follow. I'll go last.
An hour later, the three men were walking along the shipwrecked shore of the Blackwater. Dusk was falling, and the mist was falling over the river. Stars protruded in the sky, and the red stroke of a comet that had come from nowhere shone brightly. When Light had entered the prison, it hadn't been there yet. More out of idle curiosity than for any purpose, Light pictured a map in his mind and drew a mental line in the direction of the comet. Unless the maps lied, and unless Light was confused, the line crossed the Red Desert, passed through Qarth, and disappeared into the Jade Sea. Half the world must be marvelling at this strange astronomical phenomenon.
But let the Maesters handle the comet. Light has better things to do. They could already see the rows of tents ahead, hear the neighing of horses and the clanking of steel. It was time to get rid of the disguise: deerskins were no longer of any use to lions.
The three Lannisters entered Lord Tywin's camp.