As ever there was a spring in his step this morning, a rather
pleasurable tryst with a whore last night had suitably drained his
stones and reduced the pressure of too much seed, and his good
mood was even more to do with other matters not involving the flesh.
For it looked like his plans were finally moving towards fruition,
things were all falling into place to enable him to assume his rightful
place as Regent of the Seven Kingdoms. For stabilities sake he
would have to retain that spawn of Daemon as King, but as Aegon
would be wedding his blood that was only a small insult to be borne
stoically. The Kings younger brother however, he had no use of the
lad so he would have to be disposed of, and such very action was
already in train.
Those two bastard dragonseeds would have to be dealt with also,
slightly more problematical to his mind, but manageable, indeed
assassins were even now making their way through the Red Keep,
to see to the ending of both of them. And with that their dragons
would no longer be a problem, and the only dragons would be those
of the King and Queen, small and immature creatures, barely able to
support their weight as riders and thus virtually useless.
He counted off the Lords whom he had in his corner, more than
sufficient so long as the dragons were dealt with, though afterwards
he would have to deal with the more, well, ambitious of them,
starting with Urwin Peake, who was not going to put a Queen's
crown on his daughter's head, come what may. The girl herself was
due to soon suffer a rather tragic and violent end, shortly after he
had disposed of all obstacles in his way Lord Peake would find his
daughter sadly murdered and horrendously violated. The same men
who had been so through in their tasks with Princess Rhaena,
though short a few members, were still available to him to use as
required. And he required them to deal with young Myrielle Peake in
their usual fashion.
The Maester he was trusting with the poison assured him that it was
nearing its maximum potency, and that it would soon kill its intended
target, the Lord Regent, Corlys Velaryon. Its effects would mimic that
of a heart attack, and as Lord Corlys was in his seventh decade of
life, a heart attack would surprise nobody. And given what was about
to happen who could say that this fatal heart attack would not be
brought on by the events to come?
Lord Stark had not yet removed himself from Kings Landing and the
Red Keep, a rather annoying fact that stuck in his gut, that heathen
savage and his equally heathen and savage wife had welcomed their
first child, a girl a scant few weeks ago. He was almost of a mind to
have all three of them murdered also, but the fact that there was still
a goodly contingent of north men in the capital stayed his hand. Well,
it stayed his hand so long as the Stark kept his frozen nose out of his
business, if he got a whiff of the Stark getting involved he would
have to act, and act ruthlessly.
Hence why over the last several moons he had moved knights and
men at arms into Kings Landing and its environs for support when he
made his move. He once again did the calculation in his head, yes,
he had enough forces to prevail, no matter what. As it should be, he
was not going to rush this, and risk everything, all his plans had been
carefully laid, slowly matured, and delicately emplaced.
As Hand it had been easy to ensure that his men were placed into
the necessary positions of power, and into the vital places within the
administration of the Red Keep and the Realm, and he was steadily
working on the Gold Cloaks. Without their former patron Prince
Daemon, they had been ripe for the picking, and he was sure that he
had enough of them suborned to his cause by now.
House Baratheon he discounted as it was led by that idiotic woman
Lady Elenda, who had her hands full with three bratty daughters who
seemed to think that they were the Gods own gift to manhood.
Likewise, he also discounted the Lannister's, despite their endless
coin, they were led by a seemingly equally idiotic woman, whose
only concern seemed to be getting marriages for her pair of
daughters, both of whom seemed to have not an iota of sense
between them. As evidenced by the piquant piece of information he
had just become aware of, how Lady Tyshara had been discovered
naked in Prince Hugh's bed, and with her maidenhead missing to
boot! And the very fact that there had not been an immediate
scandal was proof enough to him that the Lannister's must have
been spreading around their coin like penny loaves to the masses to
keep things quiet.
The fact that he had only become aware of this in the last days was
proof enough to his mind of this, but he would add it to his quiver and
retrieve it as needed, should the Lannister's become a problem for
him.
Anyways, all was ready, he had with him the documents necessary,
the Order of Degradation, stripping that ridiculous bastard Hugh of
his Knighthood, and an Order of Refutation from the Starry Sept
denying the legitimisation of Hugh as a Targaryen. By the time he
would read these out in Court Hugh would of course be dead, as
would Addam Velaryon, but Lord Corlys, sitting atop the Iron Throne,
would not yet know that. The lords who were loyal to his cause
would loudly agree with him in the Throne room, making a scene,
and as this distraction was happening the knights and men at arms
of his would be busy seizing control of the Red Keep.
Lord Corlys could splutter and rage all he wanted, along with that
ridiculous so-called Grand Maester Gerardys, who was also due for
a very sudden retirement from his post, with the agreement of the
Citadel of course.
All in all, it was a decent plan, nothing fancy or risky, it depended on
good old simple treachery and force of arms, and he felt confident
that it would go his way, and that by dusk he would be sitting atop
the Iron Throne as Lord Regent to his grace, King Aegon. Who
would be known as the third of his name from now on, the removal of
Alicent's first born son from the rolls of Targaryen Kings was the first
thing he would correct when he ascended the Iron Throne.
It pleased him no end that he was about to surpass his uncle Otto,
whom he had never really liked, and thoughts of this brought a smile
to his face as he entered the Throne Room, packed as it had
become over the last few moons. He had made sure that his
supporters always attended court, to get everyone used to large
numbers in the Throne Room, this day, if one looked carefully, there
were many knights and men at arms present, though none were
dressed in their military garb.
It was a thin pretence, and one which would not hold up for long, but
then again he did not need much time, only enough to distract the
Lord Regent and the lackeys surrounding the base of the Iron
Throne. The Kingsguard he did not give a seconds thought to, there
were enough swords in this room to comfortably overwhelm them.
Likewise, the Red Keep guards that lined the room, his men every
one of them.
He pushed on through the thronged throne room to stand before the
Iron Throne, looking up at Lord Corlys perched atop the great
hulking mass of twisted and partially melted swords. Even at this
distance he could see that the famous vitality and vigour of the Sea
Snake was absent, the man looked haggard and ashen, and his
shoulders slumped were he sat. That was a good sign he hoped and
wondered if the old cunt would even live long enough to realise what
was about to happen. Oh, he did so hope so, it would spoil his
enjoyment of his victory if Corlys did not know of his own failure and
of his triumph. He waited calmly for the criers to call for silence and
when it had descended he launched into his prepared speech.
As he said his words he was aware of the rising hubbub of voices
around him, and their increasingly strident tenor, all was going to
plan. He read out both documents from the Faith of the Seven,
stressing that they had been signed by the senior seven of the Most
Devout, and that Hugh had to be removed forthwith from any
positions of power. He promised that the lad would be allowed to
leave the Red Keep and Kings Landing unharmed, though without
his dragon of course.
Lord Corlys looked like he was having an apoplexy his face going
suddenly bright red, before he tried to stand, only to stumble, grab
out at the Iron Throne to steady himself, stumble again and grab at
his clothing, appearing to rip at his doublet with a spasming hand,
before he collapsed and fell from atop the Iron Throne, his body
being sliced and cut by the blades as he fell, a protruding sword
impaling him through his thigh, to leave him suspended and flailing
about twelve feet off the floor of the low dais that the Iron Throne
perched on.
Pandemonium broke out at this, shouting and screaming filling the
air, forcing the smile that threatened to split his face wide open to
recede he called for calm, and directed the men known to him to
restore order. Fighting was quickly coming to an end, those who had
been stupid enough to not welcome his advances were butchered by
those loyal to him, and the unfortunate Grand Maester joining them,
his throat cut as he had tried to flee.
He ascended to the dais of the Iron Throne, and scanned the crowd,
a ball of ice suddenly forming in his stomach. Neither the Starks, the
Lannister's or the Baratheon's were present at court, a very unusual
occurrence, as they were normally regulars at court.
This spelled bad news, it might yet be just coincidence, but as the
minutes ticked by he became more and more anxious that things
were not going to plan. The men who had been dispatched to
murder Hugh and Addam should have made it back to the Throne
Room by now, with the bodies to display to all. Likewise, the men he
had sent out to secure the Red Keep should be reporting success to
him here in the Throne Room.
Suddenly from above an earth-shattering series of roars slammed
into the Throne Room, the unmistakable sounds of an enraged
Vermithor and Seasmoke, the bright, almost blinding light of
dragonfire visible through the windows of the Throne Room.
Ormund Hightower lost control of his bowels and soiled himself then
and there, his mind collapsing into sheer and utter shock and terror,
failing to notice that the corpse of Lord Corlys Velaryon had slipped
off the blade it was suspended from and had fallen to the ground.