"Will you stop pacing; you are giving me a headache…." Announced
his wife, from where she sat before the fire in their chambers, a hand
resting protectively across her swollen stomach, "and you are
upsetting the baby," she added, a smirk playing with her features.
He let out a sigh of frustration and sat down before Alysanne,
reaching out she slipped off her slippers and lifted a foot to him,
encased in thick woollen socks, and he began to gently massage her
foot.
A sigh of pure bliss escaped her mouth at his ministrations, so he
kept them up, gesturing for the other foot and applying the same
treatment to it.
"The sooner we are gone from this place the better." Alysanne spoke
the thoughts that were consuming him.
"Aye," he replied, unwilling for now to say anything else on the
matter.
"Leave them to their plots and plans, to their petty grasping at power,
the North can safely ignore most of it Cregan….."
"I know, but, but it sticks in my craw lass, something is not right
about all of this…."
"Really?" Alysanne asked, her voice dripping with irony. "This is the
Red Keep, what did Prince Hugh describe it to us as? 'A hive of
scum and villainy the likes of which you would never find anywhere
else'. He is right is Prince Hugh, this place is no place for honourable
men."
"Or women," he replied, the endless parade of young females and
their families, a significant number of which were housed and fed at
the Red Keeps expense, were still prowling around and looking to
secure husbands. The sheer waste and frivolity of the endless
parties, balls, hunts, mummery shows, and in the depths of a winter
that had already lasted a year and half, and which showed no signs
of ending, simply appalled him, and his banner men.
"Oh, regretting your hasty choice of a wife already my Lord Stark?"
Alysanne snarked, the grin on her face taking any heat or meaning
from of her words.
"Pah!" he laughed. "Half of them would die rather than be wed to a
Northern Lord, even the Warden of the North, a quarter would die
from the cold of winter in the North and the remaining quarter would
incite my banner men to rebellion by the end of winter!"
"Yes, and I have not failed to notice that the remaining Northern
Lords who are available for marriage are being rather studiously
ignored in the scramble to wed the King, Prince Hugh and Ser
Addam."
"Probably for the best…"
"Aye," Alysanne giggled, "could you imagine some chit from the
Reach ending up as Lady of Last Hearth?"
"The King is already betrothed, the competition for his hand
is….unseemly to say the least, and I don't know why the Lord
Regent has not put a stop to it."
"Because my dear husband, to do so would be a bad move
politically, it keeps the former Greens, of which there are quite a few,
both currently in the Red Keep, and on the Small Council, busy
defending the betrothal to Princess Jaehaera, the last surviving child
of Queen Alicent. It also ensures that the pressure on his grandson
Ser Addam is lessened, and similarly with Prince Hugh, who is still in
mourning for his wife, Lord Corlys's granddaughter."
"Not for long though, that period of mourning is coming to an end
soon."
"It is, and the race for Prince Hugh's hand should intensify even
more as a result."
"All these fucking games and plots! And in winter, with parts of the
realm starving! And all these fools can think of is feasting and
partying and dancing!"
"Because none of them are starving Cregan, all of them have full
bellies and are warm at night, Kings Landing and the Red Keep are
being supplied from Essos with more than enough food to keep
everyone fed and happy. The war is over but there is still the peace
to be won, and marriages are crucial to this. You will notice that there
have been very few marriages, despite the numbers of houses that
are missing men as a result of the war and have available widows
and daughters?"
He grunted a non-committal response to this.
"Everybody worth their salt is waiting to see how the marriages of
Prince Hugh, Ser Addam and maybe even the King pan out, for if
something tragic should happen to Princess Jaehaera? Well then
there is the position of Queen open for the taking. The Lannister's
and the Baratheon's won't leave without betrothals to either Hugh,
Addam or King Aegon, you can be absolutely sure of that. And then
the rest of the Houses will erupt into a frenzy of marriages to secure
their positions, and only then will the city and the Red Keep empty of
its heifers!"
"Even though House Lannister and Baratheon were not exactly…
loyal to the Iron Throne?"
"Oh no, they were absolutely loyal, to the Iron Throne that is, when
the Greens sat atop it. They are too powerful to be cast down, and
especially not now with a realm to be healed and winter upon us. So,
they will play for every advantage that they can, to the absolute
limit."
"Once you have birthed our child I will not wait any more than
absolutely necessary, I want to get back to Winterfell and away from
the South for good! I'd rather never set foot south of the Neck for the
rest of my days!"
"A moon or two my love, a moon or two more and this babe will be
ready to be born."
They lapsed into silence at this, enjoying each other's company, until
there was a knock at the door, and a servant was admitted, bearing
a small piece of paper, which he handed to him.
The servant bowed and left, he read the writing on the scroll and
pondered his next steps, next steps that were potentially very
dangerous.
"What is it?" Alysanne asked, noticing the concern that he was
trying, but obviously failing to stop reaching his face.
He initially thought to lie to her, but decided against it. "Some news,
it appears that certain parties have information relating to the Day of
Fire and Blood that I have been searching for."
"And?"
"And they wish to meet, now, here in the Red Keep…."
The weirwood's pale bark seemed to glow softly in the fitful
moonlight that splashed the Godswood every now and then as the
scudding clouds racing overhead alternatively drowned the sky in
darkness or let the cold glow of a half-moon fill the heavens.
He was waiting for the new source that his agents had discovered,
and which had been able to provide some very interesting
information on the goings on in the Red Keep over the last moon or
so. This new source now claimed to have information on what had
happened in and around the Day of Fire and Blood and who could
explain why the war had ended as it did, and why certain Greens,
notably Lord Ormund Hightower, were now so highly placed in the
court of the Iron Throne.
He sensed one of the four guards with him tense and he detected
the almost imperceptible sounds of people in the Godswood, making
their way slowly and quietly towards them.
Eventually two hooded figures detached themselves from the gloom,
approaching until they were standing several feet away, both threw
back their hoods and he narrowed his eyes, but before he could say
anything the man spoke.
"I can see from your reaction that you know, or at least suspect who I
am Lord Stark, my companion is the Lady Misery, Mistress of
Whispers to the late Queen Rhaenyra."
"You are a traitor Lord Strong, and the whore is wanted, with a
substantial bounty on her head," he replied, but he made no move to
draw his sword, not out of any fear or hesitation, but because he
knew that unpleasant as it was, this pair probably had the answers
that he sought. But he could scarce contain his contempt for these
two.
"Easy to call me a traitor when you were several thousand leagues
away, when you did not just witness the Lord Commander of the
Kingsguard murder a Master of Coin, and when you did not swear
any vows to the former King."
"Measly words Strong, mere wind….."
"Be that as it may, I am also the last of my name, and a Frist Man,
not an Andal, my only wish was to survive…."
"A coward then also?"
"I was born with a club foot Lord Stark, I am no great master with the
sword, nor can I joust well. But we are not here to discuss my
infirmities, nor my loyalties."
"What is it that you want Strong?" he asked, harshness roughening
his voice.
"It is not really a case of what I, or the good Lady Misery want, what
we want must be obvious to even you. No, it's what you want Lord
Stark, and what you have sought for many moons now, that we are
here to discuss."
"Tell me everything" he demanded, knowing that he would most
likely hate what he was about to hear.