Part MMDXCIV: Raven's Gift
Raven's Gift
Thirteenth Day of the Eighth Month 293 AC
Lys all over again, only there is not any one fool to manipulate but dozens, the thought leaves an unpleasant taste in your mouth at the reminder of the bloody farce that had preceded your conquest. Is this how Bloodraven felt as he spun his webs of intrigue across the Seven Kingdoms, feared and hated by highborn and lowborn alike? Once you would have held your tongue, not wishing to seem weak before the ancient sorcerer, but that uncertainty is spent, trod upon by the Legion's boots. "How did you deal with it?"
"By keeping in mind an old saying my father told me when I was a boy, probably the only good advice he ever gave me." A soft sigh passes through the air, probably the last sign of regret for the passing of the man history remembers as 'Aegon the Unworthy'. "The world's greatest swordsman fears not the second greatest but the worst." He continues deliberately, "The game of thrones and princes is not a duel against worthy foes clear in the sight of men and gods, it is a bloody melee where fortunate fools might slay champions and the winner is the one standing on a mound of corpses."
"I would rather that mound be as small as can be," you say, misliking the simile even as you must grant the point is well taken.
"Then you must be quick indeed with your dagger," the old sorcerer replies. "This Varys has pacted with gods and demons, yet all of Westeros did not yet dance to his tunes. The Lannisters, the Citadel, the Faith, all these are foes to be wary of still..."
"Sound counsel, uncle," Dany replies. "What were these plots?"
Bloodraven is silent a long moment, perhaps distracted by something far away, perhaps merely lost in thoughts and memories. "Given how much you have revealed to me and how close the hour of the conquest hangs, it is only fair and fitting that I show my own hand besides the Spider's thoughts, thus you might see the board in full and move the pieces as they must be."
The weight of the offer leaves you momentarily speechless. For one who lives so comfortably ensconced in shadows to shine a light upon his plans for you is a gift beyond price. "Thank you, my lord," you bow deeply, not as king to honored counselor, but as one equal to another—sorcerers, spies, and plotters.
He offers a jerky nod in response, the closest to reciprocating his ruined body can manage. "I suppose the best place to start with would be the Faith. Varys wished to kindle in them the spirit of fanaticism and unity, to make of them the rock upon which you would break, slain by their champions, your Legions rounded by hordes of fanatics which even Maegor's fury could not tame. He has agents in place in Highgarden, some enchanted, others willing, who might sabotage the conclave in such a way as to implicate you..."
"Who are these agents and how would they seek to implicate me?" you ask intently.
"Of the willing the highest born and most powerful is Ser Alester Florent, who took devils' coin without thought in his bitterness over the Tyrell 'yoke'. He seeks what the Florents had always sought, of course..."
"The Reach," you nod. "Is the whole house lost to the lure of devils, then?" That would be exceedingly ill-fortuned given that Stannis's wife is of that line.
"No, it stops at the lord and his heir," Bloodraven answers. "Others may know of treachery and unexpected wealth, but they have sworn no pacts with Hell. Garth Tyrell, called Garth the Gross, does know of the dark pacts and foul magics, but he is in no position to do give warning, for he is in the thrall of a Brachina posing as his latest mistress."
"Garth the Gross... that would be the Lord Seneschal of Highgarden, then?" Dany asks. At your surprised looks she explains: "Mother has been helping me learn the names and places of all the great lords and ladies."
"A wise thought," Bloodraven interjects. "The more I watch Rhaella stretch her wings the more a pity it seems to me that she was born in Aerys's shadow."
Unconsciously you bristle at the implication that your mother had been less worthy in his eyes before, but you reign the impulse in. This too is part of the candor he has promised. "How do the plotters aim to ruin the conclave?" you ask instead.
Bloodraven goes on to explain how Varys had recovered part of the remains of a Darkenbeast which had perished in a training accident in Myr, and how the artificers of the Golden Company had been set to creating some semblance of one. Though these beasts are wretched things with lives measured in weeks and needing to be puppeted with the use of a talisman in the absence of the guiding spirit the Old Gods provide. Alas that they would still serve to frame you for the death of the head of the delegation of traditionalist septons, making of him a martyr. Garth would later be found to have vanished from his room with signs pointing to fleeing Sorcerer's Deep.
"They made something that can't even live two months through and that won't even have a mind?" Vee spits in disgust and curses. "I'm gonna toss their corpses into the forge."
Dany places a hand on the older girl's shoulder in support, knowing that this goes far deeper than some craftsman's pride. Vee truly loves the beasts she helps make, and expects them to be treated with respect and care.
She will have her vengeance soon enough. A Brachina is certainly a dangerous foe, but one that moves with patient cunning, not a ravening monster you must remove with all haste. "What of the Vale and Dorne?" you ask, turning to the other kingdoms you have seen diabolists move.
"In the Vale the agents of Mammon seek above all else to gather converts, though they have also happened upon a conspiracy of 'pious' lords who yearn for the return of the Faith Militant and seek to use them to stir up unrest, first against my own pawns among the Mountain Clans and then against the North," comes the slow unexpected reply. "That plan, however, is far indeed from fruition, for though these lords may be fools they are not wrong in claiming the favor of the Seven. The Chosen of the Smith and the Crone aid them."
"In doing what?" Dany asks, intrigued.
"Something to do with the Arryn heir is all I have been able to find out. The servants of the Seven can unfortunately learn discretion. The oddest part of the whole matter is that not even the Spider knows whence little Robert Arryn sprang. I can provide you with the names of the lords both I and Varys suspect as well as those of the Chosen..." He lapses into another thoughtful silence. "I suggest you capture but do not kill them. It would be interesting to see if the Seven must withdraw all their gifts from one of their Champions to make another or simply raise their hands from them."
"Maybe I could teach them another path," your sister offers, obviously ill at ease with giving these Champions no way out.
"As you think best," Bloodraven answers, tone carefully neutral, likely counting it wasted effort. Then he shakes his head. "Lastly there is Dorne, the kingdom where reform of the Faith in a way that is pleasing to Your Grace would be easiest to achieve. Here there was no true effort to agitate the faithful, only use traditional rivalries between the Yronwoods as a wedge. Alas, though the conspirators are few and scattered here, Varys's efforts to bolster that presence did reveal one damning secret, the presence of Princess Elia and her daughter Rhaenys returned from death. I fear that as the Spider's web frays that knowledge may fall into the lap of the Lannisters."
Unwelcome though the news may be it is not wholly unexpected. At the very least it is time to send Doran some discreet guards to add to his own roster, or else you could extend again the invitation to stay as your guests in Dragon's Roost for a time. Dorne would only be an incantation away, after all.
What questions do you ask next?
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OOC: I know it must seem crazy from an OOC position to have Bloodraven offer yet more exposition, but this is what makes sense for the character right now. Viserys has lived up to his (admittedly very high) standards and you earned his trust.
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