No Greater Fury: A Horse Grenadier company in Westeros

[Balaur]

"Everything is in place, I assure you." Gared said, trotting alongside Renly as they made for the Red Keeps gates. The gaoler was having to visibly slow himself to avoid pulling too far ahead.

At least I've stopped myself obviously limping. Training himself to do that when in public had taken more effort than he was used to putting into, well, anything.

Renly could already hear the chanting coming from outside. Baratheon guardsmen were keeping the crowd back from the tournament stands that had erected facing outwards

"Excellent. How many towers did you want on your castle, again?"

"One or two would be good enough. More of a tower house, really." Gared said.

He'd have to watch Gared. Ambition was good. Too much ambition… that could be dangerous. And Gared knew things no one else but Renly did.

Selyse was done. Either Stannis would be forced to execute her, or the backlash from letting her walk would cripple him.

Bill? Full confession with all the gory details. Sallereon? Gared had persuaded him to confess to sheltering the assassin even knowing what they would do. Selyse? She'd agreed to make her case, which was sure to start a riot, and Gared had discovered some interesting letters of hers that she'd failed to dispose of in time. Ironborn were involved. With recent news of the attack on the Reach, that was sure to have an impact. Tane was going to be a problem, but at least she'd been taken by surprise by the inquiry. Margaery hadn't leaked the inquiry to her hens, and even if she had, they would have assumed it was a week early. He didn't entirely trust her to keep her mouth shut.

The halberdiers guarding the gates stepped aside as he approached. Goldcloaks, hopefully loyal to him. Tane had taken all the best men in the Goldcloaks for her own troops, giving them better pay, and the regular Goldcloaks resented them for it, while he'd their pay increased and made it known who was responsible. He'd ordered the Silvercloaks to stay in their quarters built near the tourney grounds. He'd said they'd just inflame the situation.

There were Stormlands archers up on the walls as well, and spearmen, more a show of force than anything else. More practically, they also ringed the outside of the tourney stands, stopping anyone from climbing up. He glanced at the witnesses as he walked past. Lord Sunglass had gone north to personally inform Stannis of what had happened, so he was unavailable, but Margaery, Tane, Sace, and a half dozen Septas and Septons were standing about.

"Are you ready?" he asked. Margaery nodded and pulled herself away from where she was talking to Tane, cutting off mid sentence as she saw him approach.

She interlinked her arm with his as they walked out the Red Keep's gates.

It should be Loras at my side.

He clambered up onto the platform, wincing as the climb put pressure on his leg. The moment he stepped up onto the stage, his leg felt like it was on fire. He ignored it. He could not show weakness before the people of King's Landing.

As he walked to the edge of the stands, a guardsman stepping aside as he stood before the crowd. A wave of cheers went up when they saw them.

"Margaery! Margaery! Margaery!" the crowd called, and "The rose of Baratheon!"

It rankled him to hear most of them cheering for her, not for him. Still though. Him or her, it didn't matter. He had the people's support.

"Justice for the High Septon! Let no infidel go free!"

That one was coming from a knot of men in austere clothes, Septon Ollius at their head.

He let it go on for just long enough that the people had their say, then raised his hands and called for silence.

"As you all know, I, Renly Baratheon, Lord of Storm's End, Hand of the King, heir to the Iron Throne, was attacked three weeks past by assassins. My lady wife, Margaery, was also attacked and sorely wounded, as was Captain Tane Bayder. Most heinously of all, the High Septon, a Septa and a Septon were murdered in the holiest place in the Seven Kingdoms. Not since the days of Maegor the Cruel have we seen such a crime against the Faith!"

More yelling.

"Off with her head!"

"Kill the bitch queen already!"

"Fookin' Rhllorites!"

Margaery called for calm this time.

"It may very well be the case that Selyse did this. It might be the Ironborn, or the abominations of incest that ordered this atrocity. Whoever they are-"-Margaery paused to raise her splinted arm-"By the old gods and the new, my Lord and Husband has sworn to make them pay."

"To establish the facts of the case, all those concerned will describe what they saw and did on that terrible day."

First came the Septons. Half a dozen of them, each described the same events. A group of shifty looking Essosi around the Great Sept near noon. A Septa confronting them on the balcony as they approached the High Septon's chambers. Her throat was cut. One of them had opened the door and thrown an axe at the High Septon, only for Tane to charge them. She'd killed two before being forced back into the chambers. They hadn't seen much, besides Septon Orel running in to try and help, then Sace arriving with pistols and her sword belt-she'd had no time to buckle it on- and blowing the last assassin's brains out. Some of them testified that they'd seen the flame tattoo on one's ankle, and a one-legged Septon who'd been a sailor long ago said the throwing axes in the attack were ironborn make, just like the one that had taken his leg.

Margaery gave the same version, adding how she'd pleaded for mercy, and how the killer had refused.

The mob was bellowing, jeering, screaming for blood.

"Off with her head! Off with her head!"

The way they said it, Renly was convinced they wouldn't need a sword to take her head off.

Then it was his own turn. He told how he'd punched the assassin, fuelled with rage when he'd gloated about murdering Margaery.

That brought a cheer.

He told how the man had sworn to Rhllor when captured. And he told them how he'd tried to save Selyse, but had no choice but to arrest her when the confession was read out.

Tane came next.

She began explaining how she'd fought off the attackers, killing one man with a hatchet she'd taken off another.

"-I was wounded twice, and only saved from worse by my mail."

She took off her hat, showing the short, ragged haircut she'd gotten so her surgeon could get at the wounds. Her hair was shorter than most mens by now.

"One of them had a rhllorite tattoo, another looked Ironborn. Two more looked like Essosi sellswords. I don't think they were all rhllorites. Hired by Rhllorites, maybe-"

A flick of his wrist and Gared came to the fore, confession in hand.

Gared cut her off. "Indeed, the assassin explained himself when forced to speak by the rack and the iron."

He unscrolled the parchment.

"These are the words of the man who called himself Bill, would-be murderer of the hand of the King! He was most reluctant to speak, to protect his Queen and master, but when he did, it was illuminating. He cannot appear before you know to give his confession, since I fear such a rogue's chances of escape are too high."

"Item: I was recruited into the faith by the Red Priest Quellos of Myr. I was then but a humble sellsword…"

"Item: I was alongside four others, all of us faithful, hired by a man who called himself the red knight. He said he had been sent by certain highly placed persons to kill all those who opposed the one true king and the one true faith."

"Item: When in King's Landing, I took a position in Renly's guard so as to be close to him. I attended the nightfires while I was there, and greatly admired Selyse. I told her at the nightfires I had great plans to do great service for the faith, and she smiled and told me she was glad the faith had such experienced warriors in it's service. Later, she told me that she wished someone would rid her of the meddlesome Margaery."

"Item: We were planning to kill only Renly and the High Septon, but when we found out about the meeting, we postponed it for a day to kill Margaery and Tane too."

"There is more. The blacksmith Sallereon, when put to the question, confessed that he sheltered the killers full well knowing of their mission, since he supported any Rhllorite who would fight the faithful."

"Throw them out! All of them! Force them out of the city!" someone yelled. "No Rhllorites in the sight of the Great Sept!"

Gared let them continue for a moment, then Renly called for calm.

"Furthermore, while searching Selyse's affects, I found letters from Selyse Baratheon addressed to Euron Greyjoy, the very man who now ravages the coasts of the Reach! She was begging him to seize the chaos that she knew would soon be sown!" Gared said.

The mob was bellowing, roaring, screaming.

"Bring out the bitch queen! Bring her out!" the crowd roared.

"Now!" Renly called. "Would anyone speak in Selyse's defence!"

 

[Balaur]

"I will!" Tane yelled. She stepped forwards, up into a gap between a pair of spearmen guarding the edges of the platform.

Here we go. Telling the Hand of the King and an angry mob that they were full of it and barking up completely the wrong tree had to be one of the more dangerous things she'd ever done. And that included attacking fortified positions head-on and ill-considered duels. There had to be thousands of people out there, all of them packed into a blob, trying to get close enough to the stands to hear.

"After the fight, I wanted to know why those men had tried to kill me. So I interrogated those who knew Bill."

"What I found wasn't entirely consistent with what Bill said in his confession. Firstly, he claimed in the confession that Selyse trusted him enough to tell him at the nightfires that she wished someone would kill Margaery. But Ser Davos Seaworth had agents watching the nightfires, and they barely ever saw Bill there. Neither did the other members of Renly's guard report him to him have been particularly faithful. So, you say, Selyse knew Bill was a killer because she'd hired him, and trusted him as such. But then, Davos keeps track of such things, and no Rhllorite knights had left or returned in the time needed to be the 'red knight' in the confession.

"Then there is the matter of who she ordered killed. If Selyse had hired him to kill her enemies and both of them knew what he was there for, why on earth would she risk exposing both of them by telling him she'd like Margaery dead in the Red Keep? If Selyse did this, Margaery would be the primary target from the start. Selyse is convinced Margaery was spying on her. Selyse hated Margaery. She was not a subtle woman. But in this attack, the High Septon was the main target, with four men sent to kill him, and another man to kill Renly. Myself and Margaery were only added to the death list at the last minute, when they realized they had an opportunity to get all three at the same time, and, if this confession is to be believed, because Selyse mouthed off in broad daylight. She gained nothing from killing the High Septon besides riots. It makes no bloody sense. And if Selyse was clever enough to send an agent all the way to Tyrosh to recruit these killers, why would she act so stupidly as to have letters to the Ironborn lying about?"

The mob was, well, not convinced. Bored out of their minds more like it.

Thank Mary-Isis I'm not a lawyer.

"Worse, I went to talk to the assassin myself. He'd been tortured."

Some in the crowd began to cheer. "Cunt deserved it!"

"It might have gotten him to start talking, sure. Or it might have made him lie, to tell his captors what he thinks they wanted to hear. There's no way to tell. Without any real corroborating evidence, it casts doubt over everything he said."

"Now, think about where he said he was recruited. He was converted in Myr, and when I spoke to him, he told he'd been recruited in Tyrosh, closeby to Myr. Who has taken residence in Myr? Petyr Baelish, thief and traitor to the realm, and the Lannisters, claimants to the throne. Petyr's given the Myrish navy gunpowder weapons, you know. Varys, the old master of Whispers, was from there too, before he was driven out when we discovered he was using tongueless children to spy on us. Either have the means and the motives to destabilize the realm for their own ends. And if they set it up to have Rhllorites kill the Hand and the High Septon, right when a certain Rhllorite queen is unpopular…"

Christ-Horus. This is the sort of logic I would've laughed at two years ago.

More boos. Someone threw a rotten apple. She jerked out of the way, resisting the instinct to get her arm up. Just fruit, not bloody Cateran arrows. Trying to convince an angry mob didn't matter. It was the people behind her, not in front of her, who she needed to convince.

"So you're saying the Hand of the King is lying?" someone yelled.

Yes, or incompetent. Or just seeing what he wants to see.

"No. I'm saying he's mistaken. An understandable mistake, one our enemies want us to believe."

"Is there anyone else who would like to come forth?" Renly asked.

"I would." Davos Seaworth said. The small man came to the front, facing the crowd through a gap between soldiers, while Tane moved to the back, to stand besides Sace.

"As Master of Whispers, I can tell all of you what Tane said is true. No Rhllorite left for Essos or on any other sea voyage on my watch. Now, that's not all. I have men amongst Selyse's circle, to watch for any foolishness of the sort Selyse is said to have committed, and have had them talk to others, when they are in their cups. They all tell me the same story. She is a spiteful and unpleasant at the best of times. She has, more than once, said that she detests Margaery and believes her to be out spy on her. But she has never said much about Renly, or about the High Septon. Tane is right. If Selyse had ordered this, Margaery would have been the main target.

Why didn't I think of that?

Wasting time trying to get at the assassin's, when I could have gotten at those who knew them?

She supposed that was where thinking like a soldier in this court got her.

"Fuck off, Rhllorite!" someone yelled. More rotten fruit and then a rock, clattering off a man's helm.

"Now, will anyone else speak in Selyse's defence!" Renly yelled, once again.

"I would." A woman's voice said.

Selyse Baratheon clambered up the tourney stand steps, even more gaunt than usual. A pair of Storm's End guardsmen moved on either side of her.

Mary-Isis fucking the Father with a pole-axe…

Tane glanced at Sace. "Get the whole company here, on foot. There's going to be a riot. Renly's foot won't be able to hold the gate without backup. Go. Now."

She absent-mindedly loosened her backsword in her scabbard. She hadn't bothered with armour beyond her jazerant, but she'd brought the sword rather than her rapier. If she had to hold off a mob the extra cutting power would be more valuable than her rapier's reach.

Sace nodded, her face suddenly paler, and scurried off.

"I did not try to kill Renly Baratheon. I did not try to kill Margaery Baratheon. I did not kill the High Septon. I did not try to kill Tane Bayder."

"I was right to fear them, though, for now I know that they scheme against us. The Great Other stirs in the north, and godless savages march against us in the south. There are abominations of incest in the east. Someone, Varys or Littlefinger most like, seduced apostates from the Red God to their cause and sent them here, to make the faithful look guilty and to sow discord. You heard what Ser Davos and Lady Bayder said! Margaery and Renly are scheming against me, as they always have! She nearly died, and her first thought was how to attack me!"

Tane couldn't see the crowd, but she could hear them. They were bellowing, a solid wall of noise. A rock went flying, then another, clattering down behind the tourney stands.

Where's a helmet when you need one…

She glanced at Renly. "Pull Selyse back now. I'd want reserves up as well."

Renly shrugged. "Selyse must be given a chance to defend herself."

Idiot-

He knows exactly what he's doing.

She swore under her breath. She was going to have to save Selyse from her own stupidity all over again. She clambered up the tourney stands, past surprised Baratheon soldiers.

"Your Grace, it isn't safe-" Tane said, having to yell to make herself heard over the noise.

"Off! With! Her! Head! Off! With! Her! Head!"

"Quiet! They are clouded by the Great Other, I know-" Selyse said, looking down at Tane.

A rock hit Selyse in the side of the head, and she began to crumple.

Tane caught her, grunting with the effort, trying to haul her back onto the platform, moving without thinking. Selye's leg hung over the edge, and someone grabbed at it.

Someone was yelling about the bitch queen accusing Margaery of treason. A man leapt at the platform, trying to clamber up, but Tane kicked him in the face and a spearman drove the bottom of his teardrop shield down into his shoulder, dropping him. The platform felt like it was shaking, and Tane realized that the crowd must be pushing up against it for that to happen. One of the men on her left went down, blood pouring from his mouth.

Selyse finally came free, and she pulled down onto a lower level of the stairs. Her eyes flickered open, groggily. Blood was already running down the side of her face.

The guardsmen were jabbing with the bottom of their shields, trying to keep the crowd at bay. "Get someone up here to pull Selyse back!" Tane yelled.

She glanced back, saw Margaery rushing forwards, lifting her skirts. "We need calm, please-"

Renly caught her by the arm and pulled her back. One of Renly's non-coms was yelling for the archers on the wall to open up, and another man was calling hold.

A stone thudded into the ground next to her head. "Get Selyse back!" Tane yelled. A pair of guardsmen did as she said, hauling the big woman back. She pulled herself up, then grabbed at the nearest spearmen. The other Bill. "We need to get the civilians back inside, then fall back into the-"

A rock slammed into her shoulder, leaving her swearing bloody murder.

"Chop her bloody head off! Come on, we got blue balls out here!"

"Finish the bitch off!"

The human wave was pressed up against the stands, some heaving at them, attempting to push them over. They get through, we're all done. Some of the guardsmen were jabbing, spears coming up red, while others kept striking with the underside of their shields.

"Get the civilians back! NOW!" Tane roared, turning back to Renly and Margaery. She swore as the stand rocked under her, bracing and leaning like she on a pitching ship. It was like getting hit by a witch tilting gravity, only worse. At least she'd trained to deal with that, which put her at an advantage over Renly's men, several of whom had lost their footing and gone down.

Fuck this.

"Get back off the stands!"

She got behind one man, bellowed for him to fall back. Rinsed and repeated.

Another jolt and she fell.

She tumbled back, rolling with the impact down a couple of stairs, snarling in pain as her shoulder jarred. A few more men had fallen, one screaming as he landed arm first and snapped it like a twig. The rest were clambering back down as fast as they could, just as the stands began to rise up.

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck-

Calmness, vigour and judgement.

"Get everyone out of the bloody way! Now!"

Bill was yelling much the same. Arrows were flying, but the men they needed to deal with, those pushing the stand, were in cover.

She grabbed the man with the broken arm by the swordbelt and tugged. " MOVE! MOVE!"

They had nearly everyone clear when the stand was fully tipped over.

It came down on someone's legs. The guardsman screamed, shatteringly high pitched as rioters began to clamber over it. They might not have even wanted to attack them; might just have been pushed forwards by the pressure from the rear, trying to avoid suffocation.

They caught bullets all the same, the crack of musket shots rolling over her. She dropped to a half crouch, scrambling off to the sides. "Down and to the sides! Clear the line of fire! Move!"

She glanced about for Gryff. He was standing off to the side, bellowing orders. "Fire over their heads! Reserve pistols for anyone who keeps coming! Watch your line of fire."

"Gryff! The civilians back?"

He shook his head. "I think I saw them coming back in. Margaeries alright, and most of her lot. The queen's down."

Bill grabbed at her. "One of my men fell into the mob before the stands tipped, we need to get him…"

"Prepare to advance with bayonets!"

This was going to a long day, she could tell.

 

[Balaur]

"Who are you?" Lancel called, holding his dragonglass dagger and lit torch ready.

He could hear the wet, sputtering coughs of Hargrey behind him. He needed to get the fire lit, it was so cold.

"A man of the night's watch." The ranger said. He was all in black: his cloak, his coat, his hose, even the scarf over his face and the scabbard of his sword. His ravens came fluttering down, some perching on his back and others on the great elk that loomed in the mouth of the cave.

The man in black came closer.

"There's going to be wights coming, hundreds of them. The walkers know you killed two of them. My elk and my birds will lead them away."

"And us?"

"Just you. That blue bastard killed me, boy." Hargrey said, still on the ground. "I'm staying here. See how many of the fuckers I can take back to hell with me."

Lancel turned to look at him, and saw the blood oozing from his mangled wrist and out of the corner of the old man's throat.

"Just find me a glass dagger and a lit torch."

Lancel nodded, searching in the dark. He found the bag of torches Hargrey had grabbed in the rout, then lit one and handing it to him. He was about to go looking for the dagger when the man in black produced an arrow. "It's tipped with dragonglass. It'll do as good as a dagger against the dead."

Hargrey grunted in thanks.

Off in the distance, against the sound of the snowstorm outside, he thought he heard moaning. The elk had vanished.

"We need to go."

"It's a blizzard out there, the cave is our best-"

"Not above the earth. Through Gorne's way. The deep ways."

What?

"Underground." The man in black said. "We need to go."

Most of his birds went pouring out of the cave, cawing, into the storm.

Lancel nodded. "I just need to get my sword…"

His falchion was near useless against the dead, but it been at his side in two battles now. He found it quickly enough, wiped it down and sheathed it. He'd already gotten the bag of torches, and he picked up the pack full of rations when the old man offered it to him. "I'm not going to be needing them much longer."

He relit the fire, so that Hargrey could see. The man in black strode past him. "They're closing in. We need to move."

Lancel paused, thinking. Hargrey was right, he was good as dead with a spear through the lungs.

I can't just leave him to die alone, though.

He had to. He had to get back to the wall to warn them. That the Others had ice spiders, had wight ravens, that their wights could be put down with dragonglass as well as fire.

That they hadn't retreated back north, satisfied that they had purged their realm, but were hunting within a few days of the wall.

If he died, the death of Pyp and Grenn and soon Hargrey and everyone else were for nothing. As it was, it already seemed a tremendous waste.

"Send as many as you can back back to the seven hells." Lancel said, turning to follow the man in black.

"Oh, I will. Our blades are sharp." Hargrey broke into sputtering coughs as leant back against the wall, his torch in his one good hand, a tattered and bloodstained cloak with the flayed man of Bolton laying at his feet.

Lancel went down into the dark, into the throat of the world. Stones crunched underfoot as he went down and down, ducking his head under stalagmites here, clambering up over rock faces. He never let his eyes leave the man in black.

Once, he heard screaming and yelling behind him for a faint few seconds, before it cut out. His hand went to his falchion. "That came from behind us." The man in black said. "We go forwards." Half a dozen ravens fluttered around him, quorking.

Lancel nodded, and trudged onwards. There was nothing the glow of his torch, the walls when the caves closed in tight enough, and the man in black's silhouette up ahead. He obviously knew the caves. Whenever they came to a fork, he picked the route without thinking, and more than once he had them slithering down through narrow tunnels or clambering up through rockfalls rather than taking the most obvious route.

It was warm down in the caves, or at least warmer than the frozen hell of the surface. He felt like he was losing track of time. It could have minutes or hours or days. He didn't know how long he'd been fighting and marching, without stopping. He forced himself to keep moving. He had to put as much distance between himself and the pursuers as possible.

Finally, the man in black called a halt, at the shores of what had to be a lake. Water ran off into the distance, impossibly clear and still. "You're barely on your feet. Get yourself some sleep. I'll keep watch."

"But-"

"They're not chasing us. They killed the Bolton and went off tracking my elk."

How does he-

Oh.

Lancel realized with a start that this man in black had to be a warg. He had to be using his ravens to keep ahead of the wights. That was how he'd survived so long beyond the wall.

"Then you should sleep too, if there aren't wights." Lancel said. If the wights were gone, there was no need for a sentry.

"There are fouler things than wights in the deep places of the world."

Lancel threw his pack down as a headrest and virtually collapsed onto it, falling into fitful sleep.

*

When he awoke, the man in black was still standing watch, sword in one hand and torch in the other.

"I'll stand watch. You can sleep." Lancel said.

The man in black shook his head. "If you are ready to move, then I am."

"But-"

"I am well rested, I assure you."

Lancel got up and kept trudging. He didn't have it in him to argue if the strange ranger wanted to kill himself.

It went on for what had to be days, or even weeks. They went through caverns so vast the walls vanished from sight, and tunnels so tight he had to push his pack ahead of him to fit. They waded through underground streams, and were lit by shafts of light and sprinkling with snow coming through windows in the cave roof. Whenever he asked the man in black where they were going, he simply said "to safety."

Lancel had no choice but to believe him.

There were caverns with paintings on the wall. Spirals, carved lines, handprints, running horses and mammoths. Worse were the faces, thousands of them in one cave, all staring like the faces on weirwood trees. In another chamber, someone had broken off the great stone icicles and arranged them into spirals on the floor, with a dragonglass dagger at the center of every one.

Thrice they came across chambers filled with bones. The bones of adults and the bones of children, of bears and wolves, of elk and aurochs. Some of the skulls looked wrong. Brows too thick, teeth too long. One pile of bones was so big it damned the underground stream it was built in, and the pools of water nearby were blood red.

Stone knives like the one at his hip were scattered amongst some of them, though of grey flint rather than dragonglass.

"Graveyards from before there was a wall, and before the dead had to be burned." The man in black said. "If it's mostly animal bones, that's worse. It means Gendel's folk have been through here."

"Gendel's folk?"

"That's what the wildlings call them. Men who tried to use these caves to get under the wall, they say. Some of it is true. They made it through on the attack, but when they were beaten they became lost on the way back. They say they took to eating each other, and when they went blind and mad, they came up at night to hunt men and beasts alike on the surface."

Is he leading me back to the south side of the wall?

"Is that true?" Lancel asked. He didn't think it a likely tale, but then again, neither was a warrior-witch from another world or an army of the dead.

"No. There were hunters down here before Gorne's folk. They killed and ate his those of Gorne's men who didn't starve or go mad. They're no threat, as long as our torches stay lit."

Oh. His hands brushed his hilts, all three of them, out of habit.

Could the Others take that route?

He had to sleep six more times in the journey through the dark. Every time, the man in black stood watch, without a word and without sleep.

The third time he woke, Lancel finally got a good look at the man in black's eyes. His face was muffled by black, just like the black leather and cloth he wore. So was the hood, but even when he managed to get a look at the right angle, even his eyes were solid black.

He isn't a normal man. A warg with black eyes that scarcely needs to sleep?

He thumbed the dragonglass dagger tucked through his belt. If it comes to it… I'm behind him, and I have dragonglass. He won't get the drop on me.

They went on nonetheless. More than once, Lancel swore he could see movement in the corners of his eyes, and hear a noise like bats chirping. He had no idea if it was his imagination, or if he was about to add blind cannibals to the list of things he'd killed.

He kept most of his attention on the man in black. He was something far stronger than a normal ranger stranded beyond the wall. Stranger even than a warg. He had no intent to let his guard down.

*

At long last, after a particularly difficult crawl, he came out behind the man in black into a cave with impossibly huge icicles of stone dangling from the roof. Not icicles… skeletons. Dragons.

Before he could think about what on earth dragon skeletons were doing this far north, the man in black halted in front of him.

"I can go no further. You must take the last steps."

"Why? You've come all this way without rest."

"There are wards on your destination. Dead men cannot pass."

Lancel slipped the dragonglass dagger into his palm, as the man in black turned to face him.

"What are you? Tell me true, or I'll kill you where you stand. I'm serious."

"A dead ranger. Raised, but not by the Others. I serve a different master."

"Who?"

He motioned at what seemed almost like a staircase cut into the stone. "The route from here is on is simple. Climb it, and find out."

"Not until you tell me what you are."

"A dead ranger. Raised, by the enemies of the Others."

"Which enemies?"

The watch and wildlings seemed unlikely necromancers.

"The children of the forest and the last greenseer."

"The children are all dead. Deader than you are." Lancel said.

"South of the wall they are. The north is different."

"Nothing fire and glass can't fix." Lancel said, forcing bravado into his voice. He was trapped seven knows how far underground, with only a dead man for company. At least if he turns on me, I'll take him to the seven hells with me.

"They didn't come back from the dead. They never died in the first place. The cold preserves things that would have died long ago in the south. Like the mammoths and the direwolves. Like the Others. Like my master."

 

[Balaur]

No-one had lit any fires that she could see, at least. That was the only good news from the city. Half a dozen of Renly's men, men she had known for years now, were dead or maimed. Dozens or even hundreds more had been shot down as they'd tried to come pouring over the overturned stands. She hadn't seen it; she'd been fleeing in the middle of a huddle of her handmaidens as the Grenadiers had come charging past. She'd heard, it though: the roar of gunfire, the screams of panic, the barked orders scarcely audible through her half-deafened ears. Then the chaos had really set in : mobs of enraged citizens forced to flee from the stands, attacking Rhllorites on the streets, dragging them from their homes. The Goldcloaks were out in force, and the Silvercloaks as well.

"Selyse is conscious, at least, though the Maester said she's delirious." Elinor said behind her. She'd sent Elinor off asking after the Queen, since Renly had ordered her to stay put in the tower of the hand.

'Pity, that she didn't go the way of the High Septon" Meredyth Crane said. "An axe would have been better than a stone, I think."

"We don't know she's guilty." Margaery tutted "Oh, and Elinor? Did you see Renly?"

"There was a confession-" Elinor said.

"By the assassin, not by Selyse. Until then, nothing is certain." Margaery said.

Seven save me, Tane and Davos are probably right. There was the question of the Ironborn letter, but still…

That could have been planted by Selyse's enemies. Or Renly, or that Gared fellow. In which case Selyse is right. Selyse being right about something… well, the dead walked, so who knew?

She heard the sudden, distant crack of gunfire, wafting across the city.

"Some fool lit a fire over there…" Aunt Janna said, pointing out another window.

It was on the street of steel, near as she could tell. There was always smoke coming from the street, but this was far too much, and that blacksmith-Sallereon or whatever his name was-had his shop there.

"At least those are smith's shops, they should be hard to burn down…"

*

By the time the sun was setting the fire in the street of steel was out, but two had started down in the merchant's quarters. There'd been no more shooting, at least, though she'd heard more screaming, yelling and drumbeats than was entirely comfortable.

There was a knock on the door, and Elinor appeared. "Tane wants to speak with you."

She took the stairs, letting Elinor take her arm, her head spinning. Either Renly was lying through his teeth to everyone, or he was utterly deluded. Or the same, but for Tane or Davos. There was no way to know. Not even the assassin would know, if the killers had used enough go-betweens. There was only one person in the Red Keep who knew for sure, and no way to make her tell the truth.

She found Tane, Sace and two other Grenadiers at the base of the stairs, kitted up in breastplates and buff coats and arm harness for the officers. Both musketeers had their bayonets fixed. Sace's vambraces had blood spattered across them, and she looked paler than usual.

"Not her blood." Tane said. Margaery realized she was staring.

"There was a woman. She'd been, um, attacked, and I tried to help her since she wouldn't let any of the men get close enough…" Sace said.

Oh gods be good. Watching the rioters overturn the stands had been bad enough. Being caught on the ground amongst such a mob, with no name to protect her, no guards and no shelter...

She shuddered, remembered the daggers.

"Is the city safe? Where any of your men hurt?"

"It's still.. unstable. None of my men are dead, though there's plenty of bruises and a horse I think will have to be put down. The fires are under control, mostly."

"And the people?"

Tane pinched the bridge of her nose. "Hundreds dead. At least. Both from the rioters and my men."

Tane ushered her aside. Her armour clicked and rattled, and her hand went out to stabilize her sword. Margaery felt near naked compared to the bulk of Tane's metal and leather.

"You told me we had a week, not a few days."

Margaery has gathered that was what Tane was working towards asking her before Renly had interrupted

Margaery dropped her voice down to a whisper. "He must have changed it-"

Or lied. She didn't say that, though. Too much risk.

"Or lied to you." Tane said. "Put out disinformation, confuse the enemy. Whether whoever was putting out the disinformation knows it? That's completely optional." She shrugged, her lobstered pauldrons seeming to almost crunch with the movement.

"Captain Bayder?" Renly's voice called out.

"Yes?" Tane asked, turning.

Renly had arrived, half a dozen longbowmen in tow.

"My apologies for any losses you took. Is Sace unharmed?"

"No. Got blood on her helping a woman who'd been raped."

"What does the situation in the city look like?"

"At least a dozen dead or seriously wounded amongst our men. Hundreds of civilians killed, either by us or by the mob. There's fires on the street of silk, though at least Captain Jacelyn's got a bucket brigade going out there. We've managed to get a curfew going, and a couple of silvercloak coys cut their way through to the street of steel and defended the rhllorite merchants there. The big mobs have dispersed, but there's still packs of looters striking at the merchant's manses and fading into flea bottom. We're going to have to either lure them into ambushes or wait for them to get bored before this dies." Tane said, rattling it off like a scout reporting back.

"All because you couldn't wait a month or two for Stannis to return, or hold this thing closed court. What you thinking?"

"I have to admit to miscalculating with this, but there are good reasons to hold an inquiry."

"What bloody reasons? There are thousands killed or wounded out there and it's all down to this bloody inquiry! Hell, maybe if you'd actually told me when you were going to hold it, we could've gotten better preparations in place, but no, you had to go behind my back."

"I had to reassure the people that their concerns were being addressed, before they-"

"What? Rioted? You got your riot. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to have a look at the city from the walls. See if anything else got lit on fire." Tane turned and stomped out, her troops following.

"We need to talk." Margaery said, ushering Renly off into a side-chamber, away from lurking ears. She couldn't avoid any of the listeners that Varys had infested the walls with, certainly not without Tane's witch, but she could at least avoid any servants spreading rumours.

The moment she'd gotten Renly alone, she rounded on him. "Please tell me there was some sort of purpose to that. At least three of our household are maimed because of that."

Renly shrugged. "I didn't expect the crowd to become so aggressive."

"Tane warned you to pull Selyse back. Why didn't you-"

"There was no time. Even if I'd ordered it, she still would've been hit."

"You didn't know that when you ignored Tane. She's dealt with riots before. Back wherever she came from. You should have listened to her. Or not called this in the first place."

She saw the slightest flash of anger on Renly's face.

"It was necessary. I had to make it clear how guilty Selyse was to the people, so that Stannis would not simply pardon her."

"Oh, so you wanted the threat of a riot over Stannis's head? Funny, you just told Tane that you wanted to avoid a riot."

"Both. Stop a riot happening now, and use the threat of it to force Stannis to give us justice later."

"Pity it got hundreds killed, and us no closer to justice." She said.

"Selyse is wounded and may not recover."

"So that's it? Stannis forbid you from taking her head, so you had smallfolk stone her instead?"

"Selyse tried to have you gutted!"

"Someone tried to have me gutted. Maybe Selyse. Certainly not smallfolk having their homes looted and their daughters raped because of this." Margaery said. She kept her voice calm and level. Let the anger show and he'd never take her seriously.

"Don't tell me you believe Tane and Davos's nonsense."

"Davos is Master of Whispers and has no love for Selyse. Tane saved my life and her whole company fought for you. They have the same aim as you and I."

"Tane's been wrong before. She thought Cersei was innocent of incest." Renly said.

Mayhaps she was. The evidence had never seemed terribly convincing to Margaery. Not that it particularly mattered.

"Well, yes, the queen sleeping with her twin brother is rather harder to believe than rival claimants having their enemies killed. And she was right about Varys having filled the walls with children. She hasn't lied to me either-"

"The warrant she used to trick my men had Alester Florent's signature on it."

"Oh, seven save me, the Captain-General who likes dealing with prisoners personally wanted to interrogate one of the men who tried to kill her, and she got some signatures to make herself more convincing, so she's working for the queen who tried to kill me?"

"I'm not blaming Tane. I had to try and keep her out for the same reason I had to lie to you. I can't afford anything getting out to Selyse's people. If it did, they might try and destroy evidence, slip someone in to kill Bill, bribe witnesses before the inquiry… you have to understand."

"Oh, I understand that. What I don't understand is why you count your own wife amongst those you can't trust? Or think that Tane would try and cover up who tried to kill her?"

Renly shrugged. "I trust you, but I don't trust your hens, and I do not know which ones you would tell-"

"Elinor. Megga. They're my own blood, and Megga is smarter than she seems. I'd trust those two with my life. Maybe Sace, since I know she's loyal to Tane. The others? I'd keep my mouth shut."

"Regardless, I have proof beyond a murderer's word that Selyse is guilty. That letter, written in conspiracy with Balon Greyjoy-"

"Why? What does she gain if the ironborn attack the kingdom? Stannis or Alester will have to fight them, and if Stannis dies, you will easily sweep her aside. Who found this letter? They could have forged it seeking your favour."

The whole thing reminded her of being a girl in Highgarden, when someone or another would go tattling to the Septas or Mother. They'd always make their complaint as juicy as possible and point the finger at whomever they misliked, regardless of the truth. When it came down to he-said she-said, the favourite would be believed. Not the facts. She'd taken advantage of it more than a few times, but this was rather higher stakes than who'd stolen a bottle of arbor red.

"Unlikely. The man I put in charge of the investigation is most reliable."

Renly lurched forwards, grabbing her by the shoulders. He loomed over her, half a foot taller at least. She tensed, fearing for a moment he would chastise her.

"When Stannis comes, we must be a united front. Either we both go after Selyse, or we both claim to be mistaken. That would both be a lie, and destroy my reputation, and yours with it. The court and Stannis would think me a coward, a fool or a liar, Now, if we bring down Selyse? We're the heroes of the faith, and rid of an enemy. Even if Selyse if innocent, which I find unlikely, she was your enemy before this, and she is certainly our enemy now. We must finish the deed. It is a cruel thing to wound a beast, but not kill it."

His blue-green eyes bored down at her.

"Those men tried to kill us! They tried to kill your child! Do you not care who did it?"

"Oh, I do." Renly smiled crookedly. "That is why I want Selyse executed. That is the only way to see justice done."

Either he is framing an innocent woman and lying through his teeth to me about it, or a fool. Or I am.

 

[Balaur]

"It's going to snow today, mark my words." Megga said, glancing up at the dark, overcast sky. The winter chill had well and truly set in. She'd spent the last half hour with her servants discovering the joys of trying to get several layers of sleeves over her splinted arm. The cold was making it ache, even more than it normally did.

"Winter is coming. Brace Yerselves." Elinor said, in her worst imitation of a northern accent.

Margaery laughed, despite herself. She needed levity.

There had been less and less sun over the last few months, as winter had wormed it's way in. Now the cold snap had finally came, and with it, the snow.

The three of them wound their way past a group of servants carrying laundry, past soldiers drilling with spears. Even with things as tense as they were, business went on as usual for the common folk. The city seemed calm, almost too calm, after the explosion of madness that was the riot, though she still didn't dare venture out to pray in the cities septs. Selyse was lucid, and seemed to be recovering from her injury, from what she'd heard from the spies she and Renly had planted amongst her attendants. They still had twice the usual number of armed guards trailing her, alert for any threats. She tried not to let herself get too on edge. After the night of the riot, she'd forced herself to stay calm, to think, to avoid talking to Tane or Renly more than necessary. When she'd met each of them, she'd played along, saying that wasn't entirely convinced but was leaning each of their ways.

Seven Above, what a mess. Olenna would laugh herself sick over this-

Well, only because Renly was being such a fool about it. She'd just smile and nod and let Selyse destroy herself, otherwise.

A year or two ago, she would have done the same without hesistation. Now, she had no idea what to do. Too much time talking to Septons and too little with the Queen of thorns, she supposed.

The anger was still there, that Renly had lied to her about who had tried to kill her, dragged her along in his little scheme without warning, then botched it so that dozens had needlessly died, but she felt calmer, somehow. More focused. She supposed distance bred clarity.

They arrived at the Red keep's sept just as the first flakes of snow began to fall. She caught one in her hand, and held it up to her face, peering at it. She thought it looked like a rose, before it melted.

She took turns praying at every statue, but she prayed longest and hardest to the Crone, begging for wisdom to light her path. She didn't dare say out loud why she needed that. She prayed to the Father too, that even if she had to convict Selyse, the true killers would face justice. Not Baratheon or Tyrell justice, mayhaps, but justice nonetheless. She didn't say that out loud, either.

"Lady Baratheon. You are wanted. By your lord husband. At the Small council chambers." A voice said behind her. One of her servants, Lanna she guessed.

Margaery stood up. "Renly wants me." She glanced at Lanna, favoured her with a smile. Feeling appreciated never did someones loyalty any harm, and besides, the servants worked hard enough to deserve it. "My thanks. Do you know if it is Stannis or the Ironborn?"

Anything involving Selyse would be dealt with in Renly's own quarters.

"I heard Oldtown mentioned…" Lanna said.

"Ironborn then." Margaery said. Either the Redwynes had managed to beat back this Euron fellow, or they'd been beaten and Oldtown and the Mander were open to raiders. They'd already taken the shield islands, and burnt much of the Redwyne fleet at anchor.

They crossed through the Red Keep, past Maegor's holdfast, a virtual prison now for Selyse and her household.

The Small Council chambers seemed virtually empty when she arrived. Randyll Tarly, Guncer Sunglass, Ser Arys and Father had all gone north, leaving only Renly, Alester, Davos and Tane.

"The Redwyne fleet was shattered by Ironborn warriors, and Oldtown writes to inform that Ironborn Dromonds and longships had been sighted outside Oldtown. A blockade or worse, a full siege is surely soon to begin." Renly said.

"And Highgarden?" Margaery asked. Even heavy warships could sail up the Mander.

"No word." Renly said.

Her nails dug into her good hand, and she felt her baby kick. The Hightowers were kin, but Highgarden… Willas, Garlan, and Olenna would all be butchered if the castle fell. Highgarden's garrison was strong and it had food stores ready to last an entire winter, but if the Ironborn managed to storm it by surprise or trickery, that wouldn't save them.

"They're raiders, they won't have the patience for a siege. Highgarden and Oldtown should be able to hold them long enough for the other Reach Lords to get organized and deal with them." Tane said.

"Euron managed to sneak into Lannisport and burn their entire fleet at anchor. Now he commands an entire host, and I have heard sailor's tales of him having sorcerous powers." Davos said. "He may yet storm Oldtown through cunning or brute force."

Margaery nodded in agreement. "We can't risk letting them sack Oldtown." If nothing else, the Hightowers were kin, and having the High Septon killed and the Starry Sept killed one after the other…

"Sending a fleet would be best." Davos said. "Send an army, or let the Reachmen call their own banners, and the Ironmen will simply retreat out to sea and strike somewhere else."

"We need the Royal Fleet to see off the Targaryens." Renly said. "Scorpions and swivel guns have the best chance against dragons. Did not two young dragons die at the gullet? Who is to say we can't outdo the Myrish and kill three? We'd be better sending troops. The Silvercloaks, perhaps. They would make a good core for the Reachmen to rally around."

"If you're worried about killing dragons, sending all your arquebusiers away to go hunting reavers strikes me as a poor idea." Tane said.

Alester stood up. "If we don't deal with these savages soon… we'd best get part of the fleet ready to sail. Perhaps only the King's Landing fleet. Leaving the Dragonstone fleet and those ships with Stannis to defend the city. I will lead it myself, so that the King himself can stay ready to defend the city."

Margaery misliked Alester-too smooth, too slimy. He'd done barely anything since the coup, neither defending his niece or condemning her. That made her think he was either planning something and laying low until it came to fruition, or a coward. Neither made him a man she would trust with a fleet.

"Stannis would mislike you making off with half his fleet." Renly said.

"That's why I'd only make ready to sail. I await Stannis's orders." Alester said with a smile.

Tane rapped her fingers on the table. "Do it quickly, and you should be able to smash their fleet then get home in time to kill those dragons."

"Oh, and one more thing. There was a raven from Dragonstone. Stannis was sighted at full sails." Renly said. "And on that note, I think I should dismiss the small council." Renly said. "I must prepare Stannis's welcome."

"I'm sure he'll enjoy seeing his wife's head bandaged at the welcoming feast." Alester muttered.

Renly ground his teeth. "I told Selyse that it was not necessary to confront the mob-"

And he knew that Selyse knew that he was trying to manipulate her, so she did the opposite of what he told her.

Tane moved to talk with her, but Renly slipped her hand into his and led her out of the chamber.

"Did Selyse order the killings?" Renly asked, once they were out into the courtyard. His tone of voice made it clear he wasn't asking what she believed. He was asking her in the tone Stannis would soon take, wanting to know who supported what.

She paused for a moment, thought on it.

Her heart told her Selyse was probably innocent but a fool, an apostate and an enemy of House Tyrell, no fit queen. Those who had tried to kill herself, the High Septon and her husband had to face justice. Her head told her there was no proof either way, no way to get at Baelish or Varys if she did pin in it on either of them and that no matter what happened, Renly was going to have to play things very delicately. If Renly fell, whether she backed him or not would determine whether she fell with him.

And now that Stannis had returned, and Highgarden was under threat…

"Yes. No. Mayhaps." she said. Whatever gets me through this with my head on my shoulders and my babe in line for the throne.

 

[Balaur]

The docks were choked with fog the morning that Stannis returned. The Fury loomed out of the mist like some monster out of legend, oars lifted and the fighting deck bristling with spears and longbow staves like spines on a dragons back. Half a dozen ballistas glared out over the city, and Renly spotted a pair of small cannons-"murderers", Tane called them-positioned on the forecastle, beneath the catapult.

Renly could hear the yells of sailors and stevedores echoing back and forth across the water as they dragged the bulk of the great dromond to its moorings. Armed men surrounded him; his whole household guard and several groups of goldcloaks, though he'd left the Horse Grenadiers at the Red Keep and kept the number of goldcloaks down. He didn't want to appear weak or expose himself to attack, but neither did he want to appear fearful.

He waited as the sailors threw the gangplank down. It seemed like an eternity. Finally, Stannis came down the gangplank. He seemed almost a vulture, his gaunt, balding head poking out from the bulk of the fur trimmed cloak thrown over his broad shoulders. Two kingsguard knights came before him and another two behind, their white armour almost blending with the fog. Loras was amongst them, though he could not tell which one. He wasn't close enough to see the roses Loras had etched into his helm.

The one in front, on the left, he decided, when he saw the rose pommel of his sword and his height.

He let Stannis come to him, Loras and the other knight standing aside to let Stannis through.

"Brother. Your Grace. I have grave news to report."

"Yes, I know. You have arrested my queen for treason and murder."

"Graver news. I had to hold a presentation of evidence to try and calm the situation. There were whispers of a riot if Selyse didn't face trial soon. Selyse decided to try and defend herself before the mob. I warned her against it, but she has a right to defend herself. She was struck and wounded by a rock thrown by the mob after she provoked them terribly. The mob rioted, but my men brought it under control."

Stannis actually flinched, anger crossing his face.

"You let Selyse be wounded? Did I not expressly tell you not to harm a hair on her head? How badly hurt is she?"

"She is recovering well, the Maester says. Fit enough to stand trial for her crimes."

"We shall discuss this at the Red Keep. Now, do you have me a horse or do you intend me to walk?"

A servant led a horse forwards for Stannis, one picked from the King's own stable. Stannis swung himself up onto horseback, as did the other men of the kingsguard. Renly had ordered Loras's favourite courser brought, of course, and had asked those of their squires and pages present to pick horses for the rest. Stannis rode side by side with him, snowfall speckling his cloak white.

"What is the state of the wall? Are we all about to be slaughtered by wights? Margaery is most concerned."

"Lord Stark has the wall well manned and well provisioned." Stannis grunted. "It should hold."

"Good. Very good."

Stannis turned back to the streets. The smallfolk shuffled out of the way as the river of horses and clinking mail pushed forwards through the fog and snow.

Stannis did not appear likely to do anything rash so far. That was good. Of course, he hadn't yet heard Davos, Tane and perhaps even Margaeries account of events, so that would change. As long as he didn't end up outright wrathful, Renly knew he would benefit. Either he could get rid of Selyse and have Margaery dominate the court to an even greater extent, or Stannis would try to punish him and he would play the martyr. Even if stripped of his position, he was Lord of Storm's End. He had contingencies in place. The only way it could go wrong was if he ended up killed or imprisoned, and Stannis was no kinslayer.

They were riding up towards Aegon's High Hill when Stannis next spoke. "I shall have audience with you in my solar. Await me there. I want a full explanation of everything that happened."

Renly nodded. "Of course. The situation in the city was… volatile. Not all my decisions were the right ones, I must admit."

*

He'd been waiting for what had to be an eternity outside Stannis's solar when the king finally arrived. His leg was screaming with pain, but he would not sit. That would mean showing weakness.

Stannis had changed into a black doublet, and had a pair of Kingsguard following him. Ser Morrigen and Cuy, Renly guessed from their height and Cuy's choice of a round shield. His expression was more than uncommonly angry. From the way his jaw was knitting, Renly was surprised he still had teeth.

"Come." Stannis said, opening the door. He was an inch short of braining himself on the doorframe.

Would be that he would. Stannis having an accident would make things much easier for, well, everyone.

Renly followed, and shut the door behind him as Stannis sat on the other side of his desk, lighting a candle.

"You have proclaimed the queen a murderer on dubious evidence, disobeyed your kings lawful commands, and set off a riot that has the queen bedridden and hundreds dead. You had best explain yourself most convincingly."

The flicker of candles and the fogged windows made the room seem near dark as it would at night.

"The confession plainly stated that the assassin was recruited by a Rhlorite knight from Westeros, that he had contact with Selyse, who knew he was an assassin, and that she said she wished someone would get rid of Margaery. It was read out to me who had tried to kill me in front of full court. I had no choice but to arrest Selyse. Letting her go on account of station when charged with such a grievous crime would set a poor precent, I think. And then her followers tried to stage a coup and we uncovered evidence that she had written to the Ironborn, offering the seas to the drowned god if they would help her rule on land. The smith Sallereon, when interrogated, said he had helped hide them and recommended Bill for my guard when asked. Every objection raised was that Selyse was too smart or to foolish to do this or that, not any real evidence. There is no good reason to think her innocent."

"Selyse would sooner see the Ironborn burn as idolaters who make mock of the Lord of Light." Stannis said. "As to the rest? All of that is well and good, but I expressly told you not to put Selyse on trial, or harm her at all. I warned you, I believe this is the work of our enemies, trying to pin the attack on Selyse, and you have played right into their hands."

"The people of the city drew restless and demanded answers, backed by radical septons. They feared you would not judge Selyse fairly. I did not put her on trial. I held an inquiry, where all the witnesses could give statements. No judgement but in the minds of those watching."

"That was foolish, brother."

"Oh, I agree. It was a poor decision on my part, I'll admit that. But it did seem reasonable at the time."

"A little more than a poor decision, I would think. As foolish as dangling meat in front of a wolf then putting it behind your back to stop the wolf biting you. Indeed, considering that you hid how long there was until the trial from mine own master of whispers and the Captain-General of the Royal Army, I would say a little more than foolish."

"Hiding how long was necessary to stop Selyse's supporters destroying evidence."

"Any evidence that could have been destroyed would already be gone by then." Stannis said, his face hard as stone. "You also, I hear, denied the rest of the small council the right to interrogate the prisoner Bill, instead leaving it to some merchant's son you fished out of the city. You recruited him as gaoler soon after Varys and Rugen fled, did you not?"

"An assassin was part of my retinue. Myrish mercenaries in your employ freed Littlefinger and the Lannisters. Do you not think keeping the guards careful was not wise?"

"How many six foot tall women who dress like a Tyroshi sailor do you think there are in King's Landing?" Stannis said. "And yet I hear Tane was evicted when she tried to interrogate the assassin herself, with Lord Seaworth's approval."

"The guards followed orders… a little too well." Renly said with a shrug. "They are good men, assasins aside. Now, what is to be done with Selyse? It is plain as day that she is a murderer."

"I will have Davos interrogate all those claimed as accomplisses and witnesses. He is a most reliable man, though I doubt the reliability of an assassin under torture. Especially if he had the presence of mind to sow further discord amongst us by blaming the queen rather than his benefactors."

"Are you saying that there will be no trial? That is madness! There would be another riot!"

"I am saying that there will be a trial. I will judge Selyse innocent or guilty, as the evidence shows. Not you or anyone else."

"Surely you will not judge, she is your wife, accused of trying to murder your heir-"

Stannis stood up. "I am the king, and I neither love nor hate her. I will do my duty. If Selyse is proven guilty, you have done me leal service, even if in an irregular fashion. I would not have a murderess as my wife. If she is proven innocent… many would call you a fool, or worse. There are some who already accuse you of fabricating the evidence against Selyse."

Stannis looked like he was scarcely holding himself back from making the accusation himself.

That may be a problem.

"I won't find out, because I am quite sure the evidence will convict her." Renly said, standing up. He had work to do.

*

"I think Stannis cracked a tooth when he heard that you'd slung Queen Moustache into a dungeon." Loras said, laughing. He lay beside Renly, hose unpointed and rolled down, shirt lost somewhere in the gloom. The combination of candlelight and sweat made his chest look like the sun rising over the blackwater.

"Better that than declaring me a traitor and taking you hostage." Renly said. He'd fended off Stannis for now, readied the trial, given Gared his newest directions, and had now taken a well deserved rest.

"If Stannis had tried to take me, his men would be dead before they hit the floor. This kingsguard is a joke, I reckon I could take them all." Loras's voice dripped with contempt. "Ser Fiche might be worth something, as is Ser Balon. Morrigen won a tournament, but that was sheer luck. I'd have to fight those three one at a time. The other three? I could probably take them all at once."

Renly believed him. At the melees Loras had fought in, his axe had been a blur of steel, his horse and himself moving as one. He was easily the most skilled knight knight Renly knew.

And the most beautiful.

"How is my sweet sister?" Loras asked.

"Oh, recovering well. I'm sure she'll get the use of her arm back. And get me an healthy heir."

"Margaery told me you lied to her without reason." Loras said, his voice suddenly serious.

"Well, yes, I had to stop any information getting out."

"You could have just told her to keep it secret." Loras said.

"She'd been spending too much time talking to Tane. Now I think she's convinced herself Selyse is innocent, but she's trying to hide it from me." Renly said.

"She's my sister and your wife. Those men tried to kill her. She wouldn't act against you." Loras said.

Renly nodded along. No point risking a quarrel. Loras had a hot temper at the best of times.

"Oh, I know. I was being over-careful."

"You shouldn't be. Selyse is a murderer, and you have the Stormlands and Reach at your back. You have the will to match Stannis, and the wits to exceed him." Loras rolled up onto his knees, grabbed Renly's hand. "I know you'll get justice for what she did to Margaery."

Oh, he would. He would. Justice, and more.

 

[Balaur]

Content warning for aftermath of torture and suicide(?), and generally being pretty bloody grimdark.

*

"What did we tell you last time, m'lady? No one is to see the prisoners without the permission of the hand of the king-" the guard said, shuffling nervously.

"Or King Stannis." Tane said. Davos passed him the letter. The man read it, raised an eyebrow, and passed it back. "Oh, um, yes. Of course."

Tane resisted the urge to grin. Try going obstructionist now, dogfuckers. He waved them through, lifting his halberd out of the way. Tane's party moved through: Herself, Davos, Morgan to watch for those bloody tongueless children in the walls, and two lances worth of Horse Grenadiers because she bloody well could march a dozen of her men through Renly's dungeons at the order of the King.

Her hand went to steady her backsword as she went down the spiral staircases that led into the black cells. Davos had given her his orders that morning. Stannis wanted the interrogations repeated on both prisoners, by both her and Davos. It had been Davos's suggestion, to see if the prisoners contradicted themselves or each other. There was no way to get them to tell the truth and know it, but they could at least expose them as liars.

She came out into the guardroom lit only by bare torches on the wall. A pair of longbowmen were sitting at the table, dicing. They didn't notice as they came down into the room.

"You should be very glad right now I'm not one of your Non-coms. First time I've ever snuck up on someone in armour. Now, would someone get whoever's in charge here? Ser Davos wants to see the assassin and the smith. Stannis's orders."

One of the longbowmen jumped up and scurried off.

"We were off duty-" the second man said.

"Don't care. A dozen armoured soldiers stomping into your guardroom should merit at least a glance." She leaned back, rolled her shoulders with a rattle of plate. She'd drawn the line at full plate, but she'd put on half-harness for this. Intimidation value.

They waited for what had to be an eternity-she hadn't bothered bringing her pocket watch-before the Red Keep's gaoler arrived. He was a slight, well dressed man in a cheap but well cut doublet with clipped black hair and a dagger on his hip. Rather different from the Varys in disguise that they'd had before.

"Apologies to keep you waiting." He led them into another stairway. "And about last time? I know, those orders were nonsense. Renly being foolish. Orders are orders though." He shrugged. "You understand."

That depends entirely on whether he's sincere or arse-covering.

"Do you want to deal with Bill first, or Sallereon?"

"I will see Bill. You can see Sallereon." Davos said.

"Yeah. Bill will recognize me. Might alter his responses." Tane said.

They came down out of the staircase and went through another corridor. "I should warn you that Bill is… dangerous. He's tried to attack the guards to force them to kill them. It didn't work."

He marched up to a door and unlocked it, swearing under his breath as he fumbled with the keys. "I'd suggest taking off your daggers. Don't want him to grab them and try and kill you. Or himself."

Gared opened the door. She nearly squeezed her nose shut from the scent. She wasn't ever going to get used to the smell of dungeons. He snapped his fingers. "Bill, get up." He stomped in. "Wake up." She saw him kick at someone. "Bill, get up-"

He knelt down to grab him.

"Bloody hell!"

"What is it?" Tane asked.

"He's dead, or near enough as makes no matter."

She grabbed a lantern and strode into the room. Bill was slumped forwards, blood smeared across the wall behind him. As she looked closer, she saw blood matted into his hair on the back on his head. His fingernails had been ripped out as well, and his shoulders were a red and purple mess.

"You killed him, you bloody idiot-"

"He probably killed himself! By beating his head against the wall. Prisoners have done it before." Gared said.

"Bloody hell." Tane turned back to her grenadiers. "Blodwen, go get Connor." The company surgeon would do a better job at detecting foul play than Renly's torturer. Blodwen nodded and took off at a quick march, musket shouldered.

"Corporal Carrow, you and two men stay here to guard the body. I'll take the rest to check on Sallereon."

If both of them killed themselves… there were going to be questions asked. Pointed questions.

"Gared, take me to Sallereon. Now."

"Of course." The gaoler stood up, and hurried off, Tane following after him. "How often did you check on him?"

"Oh, we have guards outside his cell. We feed him at 12 and 9. I last came to talk to him a few hours ago. "

'Did he say anything to indicate he would kill himself?"

There were three options. Suicide, murder by an outsider who had someone gotten into the cell, or murder by one of the guards and gaolers.

"Well, putting men to the rack does tend to have unfortunate effects on their will to live." Gared said.

He came up to another door and opened it. "What do want of me now?" A man asked.

"Someone wants to ask after your safety. And talk to you." Gared said. He turned around. "If you need my men to bring him to the rack room-"

"That won't be necessary. For now." Tane said. She shouldered past him, harness clinking.

Sallereon lay chained to the wall, in a ruined shirt and not much else. A ragged beard marked his face.

He turned to glare at her as she came in. "I already told you what I know-"

"You housed the man Bill, gave word of his good character to Renly's household guard, and did so in full knowledge of the fact that he was an assassin." Tane said.

Poor fucker's most likely innocent.

"Yes, yes-"

She turned around and locked the door behind her. "Tell me what I need to know, or you get the rack. Again."

"I told you everything!"

"Not everything. Problem is, who sent the assassin? Selyse? But she is hardly clever enough to have sent a man all the way to Tyrosh without being noticed by the Master of Whispers. Except… the Master of Whispers when you were recruited would have been Varys. Who then fled two moons before the attacks took place."

"Who is Varys?" the man asked. He seemed genuinely confused.

"The eunuch spymaster. He is fond of many disguises. He always appears plump of face and round of body, though. Do you remember anyone of that description?"

"No!"

"Maybe the rack would quicken your memory."

Threatening a most likely innocent man with torture was hardly her proudest moment, but she had to prove his testimony couldn't be relied upon.

"I, I, um… there was a customer. He called himself a Manderly. He looked like this Varys man you said."

"And what did he tell you?" Tane asked with her best growl.

"He ordered an, uh, a suit of armour. He wanted it fixed after the tourney. He said me giving room and board to Rhllorites was most generous."

"Oh, I'm sure Lord Varys told you more than that. What did he say?"

"He ordered a suit of armour and-"

She lunged forwards, cat-quick, and grabbed his wrist, her other hand going to the dagger in the small of her back. He jerked back, but screamed as that put pressure on his racked shoulders. "What. Did. Lord. Varys. Say? Tell me or I'll cut your arm open. Nothing fatal, just fuck the tendons up enough that your hand won't work for a while. Or never, if the stitches don't take. Just ask Margaery."

"He, he- He told there were assassins coming that I needed to help, oh God please-"

She let go of his hand. "There. No need to lie. Now, so. Queen Selyse and Varys were working together to undermine the realm. But who benefits? King Stannis? Killing the High Septon would just result in a new High Septon. Hardly a benefit to the Red God. But killing him would create instability, as would killing the hand."

"I don't know, I was just a catspaw!"

"What are your beliefs on House Targaryen?"

"They were born of incest and abominations."

"Tell me the bloody truth. That's what the Red Priests say. But that's not what they want, is it? Fire purifies. Fire cleanses. And the dragons have fire aplenty. Varys was raised up by Aerys, at the same time Thoros of Myr came to court."

"What? No!"

"Think again. Or I'll make you think."

He shut his eyes, shaking hard enough that his chains rattled. "I wanted the dragons restored, that I confess."

"So Selyse, Varys and the Targaryens are working together to disorder the realm. And Selyse wrote a letter to the Ironborn, so Euron Greyjoy is in on it too. But who else?"

"I don't know, I was just a blacksmith, I told you everything."

"Not everything. You've been lying to me."

"Everything I said was the truth." He was still shaking, cringing away into the corner of the cell.

"Petyr Baelish. The master of coin. He bankrolled this, didn't he? He's based in Myr, near where the assassins where recruited. Did they mention anything about him? A short man, slight? Maybe in disguise?"

"No!"

"Think again. Good with many? Anyone who payed a suspiciously large amount of money, just before or after the assassin's where in your shop?"

"No! No, I have papers of all my finances, you can check for yourself..."

"Your shop was burnt in the riots. Your word is all we have. Now, do I have to loosen your tongue?"

"A short man arrived just before Lord Manderly-Lord Varys I mean-and promised me money if I hosted the assassins."

"I've heard enough."

She turned her back on him, and slammed the door behind her.

"So what did he say?" Davos asked, as soon as she was out.

"Apparently, Selyse, Varys, Littlefinger, the Targaryens, and that crazy fucker with the flaming sword are part of a grand conspiracy. Oh, and Littlefinger was in the city all along and Varys is a Manderly." Tane said.

She rounded on Gared, stalked forwards closer than he was comfortable with, backed him up against the wall. "Or you've tortured one source into babbling back whatever is suggested to him and let the other one kill himself, you fucking incompetent bastard."

"I did nothing untoward. It was the only way to get him to talk."

Tane spat. "Talk nonsense, sure. Kill themselves, sure. But we're no closer to sending sicarios or war galleys after whichever whichever bastard actually tried to kill me."

Isis fucking Mary, this just keeps getting worse and worse.

 

[Balaur]

The throne room was an island of red in a sea of fog that morning. Robert had removed the dragon skulls, and Stannis the hunting tapestries he had replaced them with, leaving only crowned stag banners and stark red stonework. At least he hadn't put up the flaming hearts his wife was so fond of.
The throne room was packed with courtiers that morning. Stannis had arrived before most of the crowd, and was busy being uncomfortable on the Iron Throne while his courtiers filtered in. Alester Florent and the other Queen's Men-Melisandre, Lord Sweets, Lord Beric Dondarrion and dozens of landed knights and second sons who'd converted to the faith-stood around her. She hadn't been popular before the attacks, and now all her friends but the most dogged had abandoned her cause, or were keeping their distance, to see how things would play out. The queen herself was not present, confined to Maegor's holdfast for protection against the mob by the King's order.

More were the King's Men-those who, officially at least, stood by the King's judgement. Davos, Tane, Lords Celtigar and Velaryon and Sunglass, Ser Andrew Estermont-Stannis's old squire, Justin Massey and dozens of others. The cautious and undecided, or those who bore Stannis their personal loyalty.

Then there were her own supporters, or rather, Renly's. They filled half the room. Stormlanders and Reachmen, and a few Valemen and Riverlanders too. Half a dozen great lords she could count, besides Renly and her own father. She stood at the front, Renly on one side of her and Mace on the other. They had their knights and bannermen arrayed behind them, just as she had her handmaidens.

The whole room seemed to be murmuring at once, as more and more of them filtered in. Finally, Stannis raised his hand and stood up from the Iron Throne.

"The assassin Bill, he who tried to kill my brother, is dead. He killed himself yesterday."

Well, that wasn't a surprise. Renly had already told her, after some prodding. He'd died a few hours before Tane's men had entered the dungeons, looking to interrogate the prisoners themselves. Not at all a coincidence, she suspected.

"He beat the back of his head against the wall." Stannis added. "Though he is dead Queen Selyse Florent, Ser Imry Florent and the smith Sallereon shall stand trial. No sooner, and no less."

"Who will stand in judgement!" someone shouted. She didn't catch who it was.

"I will." Stannis said. A murmur passed like a shockwave through the crowd.

"Your Grace? You would try your own wife? Surely if you were to forgive her, men would doubt it's truthfulness, while if you convicted her, men would say you sought a new wife?" Lord Sunglass asked, stepping forward from the mass of King's Men.

"Aye, I would stand in judgement." Stannis said. "I would not let my wife be beheaded or slandered if innocent, but neither would I let myself be married to a murderer."

There was more murmuring.

Stannis spoke up again. "As you all know, the forces of Euron Greyjoy have scattered the Redwyne fleets and now threaten Oldtown. I mean to have two-thirds of the fleet sail out to meet them. They outnumber will outnumber them ship-for-ship, but they have only light galleys and longships, not war dromonds and great cogs. The remaining third shall remain to protect the city against any surprises from the west."

"And who shall be command them?" Lord Alester Florent asked, stepping forth from the Queen's men.

"You shall be." Stannis said. "As my Master of Ships, there is no better man." The words had the awkward, clipped tones Stannis had when he'd been rehearsing something.

He's going to let her off. Tane was right, the evidence was in Selyse's favour. Bill was dead; no chance of Renly trotting him out with a new, damning confession, but then again there was no chance of him just recanting the old confession. And Stannis already misliked Tyrells and his brother. He would believe men like Davos over Renly any day, even without Renly having turned the inquiry into a bloodbath. And now he'd all but announced he didn't mind sending a Florent a long way away with a large force of troops.

Seven above, why did this have to be complicated? It had seemed so easy then. Have her attacker beheaded, roll up her faction at court, have the support of an enraged faith, be the mother or wife to the undisputed heir to the Iron throne. Without Selyse's influence, there was no chance that Stannis would push for Shireen. Then Renly had lied to her about who had to murder her, lied to her about what date he was holding his inquiry, and then nearly gotten her killed with how badly he had botched it, leaving her riding a swell of righteous indignation. He swore up and down he had a plan in case they failed to convict Selyse, but Margaery had her doubts about it.

In any case, if that plan involved open conflict with Stannis… that was too dangerous. A civil war would be everything Aegon and Euron wanted, and that wasn't even getting into the armies of the living dead. If they descended upon Westeros, it didn't matter if her child was in line to the throne. They wouldn't live long enough to see it.

There were more petioners after that, Rhllorites demanding compensation for damage in the riots, a couple of landed knights with a land dispute from the northern crownlands, half a dozen other complaints. Stannis chewed through them all with grim resolve, growling out judgements. The crown was not responsible for damages in the riots, but he would order doubled goldcloak patrols in affected areas. The dispute went to Ser Harwyn Brogan.

Then he dismissed them all, and they filed out. She stayed close to Renly, in the middle of their huddle of retainers and handmaidens. "Would you take lunch with me?" Margaery asked in her most innocent voice.

"Of course, my sweet." Renly said. He somehow managed to inflect his just so, to make it sound sincere. For a moment, she saw how so many other women, who did not know him as she did, could have fallen in love with him.

*

"What are you going to do if Stannis lets Selyse off?"

"Why?"

"I was misled about who tried to kill me and nearly killed by a mob the last time you didn't tell me about your plans." Margaery said. She didn't bother trying to honey-coat her words. "I want to know."

Renly shrugged. "If he lets Selyse off, I shall resign my handship in protest then ride south to Oldtown's aid, rallying all the swords of the Stormlands to me. I will be a hero treated unjustly, coming to the rescue of the true center of the faith."

"And if Alester Florent gets there first?" Margaery asked. "If Stannis decides whatever happened to Bill is you covering your tracks, and has you arrested for treason? If I am too weak to travel?"

She'd felt surprisingly well throughout the pregnancy so far, some naseua and vomiting early on besides. But she did not want to end up giving birth in a stranger's castle, far from home, whether that be Highgarden or King's Landing or even, she supposed, Storm's End.

"Stannis won't charge me with treason."

"He might." Margaery said. "He's already made up his mind about Selyse. And that death does look like hiding something."

"There is still the letter." Renly said. "That's like a bloody dagger."

"And who found the letter?" Margaery asked.

"Gared. My gaoler. He led the search of Selyse's apartments."

"And who has the letter now?" Margaery continued.

"The Onion Knight. He took it off Gared when he and Tane raided the dungeon."

The former smuggler. The current master of whispers, working with a woman who commands former goldcloak officers. They will know men who know how to detect forgeries.

She paused for a long while in thought, taking small, precise bites out of her lemoncake. Thoughts galloped through her head.

If the letter was found to be a forgery, Stannis would not just have Renly judged innocent with the whole thing assumed to be Renly being outplayed by enemies seeking to sow division. This would be taken as treason. And if that treason was pinned on Renly by Stannis, there would be seven hells to pay.

She had to protect herself and her babe, and Renly if possible.

"Do you trust Gared?" Margaery asked. Of course not. But she had to frame this right, not confess that she was complicit in her husband's treason out loud.

Renly laughed "Of course not. He loves only coin."

"Well, I don't trust him either. If he brought down a queen for you, he'd know he'd be handsomely rewarded. He could be buttering up the evidence. It would explain all those little inconsistencies that have crept in."

Renly's the one buttering it up, I'm sure of it. Arguing with him about his foolishness was one thing, saying out-loud he was complicit in treason was quite another.

"And your point is?"

"Cast him loose. At the first opportunity. This is his fault, feeding you false information."

"False? I think not."

"We'll see. And if this doesn't work out-"

"It will. Even if Stannis lets her off, I will resign my Hand in protest and head south."

"Where Alester Florent will have beaten you to Oldtown, getting the heroes welcome. And if Stannis declares you guilty of treason?"

"I will deny such false claims, flee south-"

"And call the banners, starting a war. Gared is guilty of treason." Margaery said. "You should have him arrested for it. To do do otherwise…"

"Not a chance. Every dealing Gared has had with me has been completely honest. If Stannis refuses to see the truth, it is his own blindness at fault."

"I still don't trust him. Remember who the last gaoler turned out to be?"

"Oh, please don't tell me he's Davos in disguise." Renly said.

Margaery laughed, despite herself.

"Not Davos in disguise. Another Varys. Undermining us from within, for his own goals."

Another scapegoat, more likely. But if Renly could be convinced to blame him, to throw him down…

"I rather think that's reaching." Renly said, finishing off his plate. "The evidence against Selyse is perfectly good. If Stannis spares her, it will be because of cowardice, not because of the evidence."

He won't do it, she realized. Won't take the humiliation of admitting to being wrong. He'll stand his ground, insist Stannis was wrong, hoping to make himself a martyr-

-And then Tane and Davos will cut out his scheme from under him, and he'll be destroyed and me with him. Or he'll call the banners, and fight, and leave a feast for crows when the dragons and the demons come.

She nodded. "Of course." She smiled slightly. "You've dealt with Gared, you've gathered the evidence, you will know more than me."

She knew what she had to do.

*

She met Tane later that day, in the gardens that had been packed between the Throne Room and

the walls. They had been Myrcella's rose gardens, once, but if Myrcella had a rose garden now it was in Myr. She'd asked Lady Merryweather to ask Tane to meet her there, and the look of vague suspicion from the Myrishwoman confirmed what she was already fairly sure of. If I was fool enough to do that, I wouldn't go through her. Taena was not the sort of person you put a particularly large amount of trust in.

She found Tane standing by a fountain. Her cloak hung halfway down past her knees, the sheath of her sword poking out the back. Margaery adjusted her own shawl, lined with northern furs. The cold made her wound ache, and she was sure it couldn't be good for her baby.

"Could've picked somewhere warmer." Tane said. "Guess you were worried about the listeners in the walls?"

Margaery nodded. "Speaking of listeners in the walls, could they have killed the assassin Bill?"

"I wouldn't be surprised. Though I have other suspicions." Tane said.

"Not Selyse's agents. He has already written down the confession, and it would make her look too suspicious."

"That, and keeping the assassin alive and getting him to recant would be the best bet. The confession can't be relied upon. I interrogated Sallereon, the blacksmith, and they'd tortured him so badly he confessed to Selyse, Varys, the Targaryens, the entire red faith and the Ironborns all being part of one conspiracy. Also, Varys is apparently Lord Manderly in disguise."

"Like Lord Rowan at the end of the dance." She said. Tortured until he confessed to causing the doom of Valyria.

"Aye."

"It's Gared. The gaoler. He has access to the prisoners, he would have gotten the confessions, Renly told me he found that letter to the Ironborn…"

Tane already knew there was foul play. She just had to distract her, convince her Gared was the traitor and Renly only his unwitting accomplice. Gared's house of lies was going to come crashing down sooner or later, and she just had to make sure herself and Renly weren't inside it.

"And he came into service after Varys vanished, at around the same time as the assassin Bill joined Renly's guard." Tane said.

"Exactly. I tried to warn Renly he was dangerous, tried to tell him he was not to be trusted."

"Bloody idiot." Tane was pacing, her cavalry boots crunching in the light dusting of snow, thumbing the big shell-hilted dagger she wore on her sword side.

"Oh, I know." Margaery said. "Renly puts too much trust in him, relies on him too much. It would be easy for him to deceive us all…"

Then she added "Gared is dangerous. I've heard boasting that he wears two knives on him at all sides, and he won't ever be on the other side of a jail cell." Kill him, when you come for him. Just end this here.

Once it got out, those who believed it would see Renly not as a traitor, but as incompetent. Those who did not… they would still see Selyse as an enemy, Renly as a martyr, and Gared as the victim of Stannis trying to cover up his wife's guilt.

And even if Renly did fall, she could not say she had not seen through part of his plan, had not separated herself too far from him.

 

[Balaur]

She was practising sums with Tommen when there was a knock on the door.

"M'lady, Magister Nelyn wants to meet with you." The slave said. Genna nodded.

"I'll be back. You can finish doing the sums, if you want."

"Of course." Tommen said. He'd always seemed... slower than his sister, but he was a dutiful study nonetheless.

She stood up and followed Essie, one of Magister Nelyn's slaves. She was a short woman, Westerosi by the looks of her and her familiriaty with the common tongue, and deferential to a fault, even more than Westerosi servants. She did not act like she feared being beaten or cast out. She had been beaten and sold, probably more than once.

Fucking ironborn, in the rebellion. Or raiders out of the stepstones. She supposed it had been long enough since the Dragonstone Usurpation for slaves taken by Ironborn at the sack of Lannisport to have filtered into the Essosi trade. She took off down the corridors, Essie struggling to keep up with her long strides.

This could be another meeting about how uneasy the other Magisters were with making themselves a target for both Aegon and Stannis, and trying to convince her to hurry up and invade(with what army?). Or it could be Littlefinger's mission to acquire a Targaryen groom for Myrcella, with no explanation for what would happen to Tommen.

"Do you have any idea what Nelyn wants with me?" Genna asked. "No, M'lady." Essie said, nervously. "His Excellence only told me to find you and bring you to him."

"Well, I suppose we are equal in our ignorance, at least." Genna said.

Essie didn't respond to that.

They came up to the doors of Magister Nelyn's study.

Genna knocked twice, then opened. "You wanted me?"

"Oh, of course." The magister sat behind his desk in his finest robes. "It is about the letter that Petyr Baelish has sent."

"Show it to me." Genna said.

Nelyn pushed the letter across to her with a meaty hand.

Aegon is willing to take a second wife. Aegon wishes his dragon to have three heads. He believes himself the conqueror come again. Marrying Myrcella will bind the Lannisters and the Baratheon's Valryian blood to his cause(though not, he says, their royal claims, for those are invalid). He will proclaim Tommen Lord of Casterly Rock. Daenerys has assented to such a union. Come with all haste east. Volantis has risen up against the Masters, and their fleet was taken intact. We will sail soon for Westeros.

Her eyes narrowed. If this was sincere… they would have Casterly rock back again, Myrcella on the throne, Tommen in a position to reclaim what was his(though she suspected Myrcella would be a rather better queen than he would be a king). If it wasn't… it could be a trap, to lure out rival claimants to the Targaryens. Or she could simply end up with her grandniece, scarcely ten, married to a madman while competing with Daenerys for his affections. She'd been married off younger than that. It wasn't an experience she would let Myrcella go through, of that she was sure.

"I will talk to Tommen and Myrcella about it." Genna said. She'd already spoken to them half a hundred times about this. Tommen didn't really care to be a king, but he seemed like he would be easily manipulated by anyone who wanted a war, and that would pit him against his own sister. Myrcella was insistent that she would do whatever was necessary to help Tommen his throne back, but Genna could tell she was scared.

"And if they refuse, will you remain here forever?"

Genna shrugged. "If they refuse, I will try and convince them. And if that does not work, no, I will not surrender Baratheon crowns to the Targaryens without good cause."

"This is the best opportunity you have had since coming here. The other Magisters grow impatient. They do not wish for Myr to be sacked by Daenerys's mob of rebels and criminals. My men overheard a bravo in the city trying to recruit men to break in here."

She'd heard of the Magisters getting impatient, but outright planning to attack her was new.

"So they scheme openly against us?"

"My men feigned interest in the offer, lured him away, then cut his throat. He's no threat now."

She breathed a sigh of relief.

"There are other, subtler, schemes against you as well. Sooner or later, one will succeed. You are not the only Westerosi exile here. Varys is in the city, spinning his webs. I do not know for whom he works, but it never bodes well."

"Then we'll move to another city, and then another after that." Genna said. "It worked for Daenerys and Viserys. Look where she is now. This marriage… Aegon is a fool if he would let someone who is first in line for the throne become a Lord Paramount. And what will the faith think of a polygamous marriage? Nothing would rally Stannis's lords more easily. Besides, it means sacrificing Tommen's crown."

Nelyn paused for a long while.

"Mayhaps Aegon is a fool. Does it matter? He will take Westeros with his dragons and unsullied and Golden Company, he will marry Myrcella like he wants, and then Myrcella can undermine him from within and Tommen can raise the west to his name."

"And what if his advisors are no fools? This is dangerous. Very dangerous. Lys sounds a lovely location to wait out the winter."

"I'm afraid this situation is too important for that. If you leave, I have gained nothing from hosting you for two years."

"Besides offering the Myrish fleet gunpowder." Genna said. "Surely that pays for sheltering a pretender or two."

"The one who gave me gunpowder is the one who wants this marriage. He is also the one who's men rescued Tommen and Myrcella and who had you brought here after you escaped." Nelyn answered. "If you stay, well, Aegon or Varys or the other Magisters will cause problems sooner or later. But if you go… it could be a trap, certainly. Petyr trying to jump ship to a more likely king. I would not put it beyond him. But it could put you and yours in position to reclaim the throne. And if you did… I'm sure the Conclave of Myr would be willing to help throw down the dragons, when the time comes. Daenerys's slaver's bay adventures have already caused us considerable grief. if you fear a trap, well, I will give you the gift of five good war galleys, fully crewed and provisioned with marines. Dependant entirely on you travelling to Slaver's Bay. And not attacking Myr, though I doubt the crew will be in much of a position to do much about that. I am not a patient man, but no one will ever say I am not generous."

Genna sighed. "I will think on it." Seven be damned, why couldn't she just have buggered off to the Summer islands? They were being forced into a trap, or binding themselves to an idiot.

*

She was awoken that night from her dreams by screaming. She thrashed for a moment, thinking of going for her dagger, then stopped herself. Just a nightmare, not the fight in the high passes-

But as she awoke and her thoughts unravelled, she realized that it wasn't a nightmare, it was a rather pleasant dream involving several Dothraki. And then there was another scream.

She froze in place, shocked.

"Get bloody lanterns lit, secure the Baratheons! Assyrio, take half the men and head to Tommen's chambers. Valyn, take the other half and secure Nelyn. I'm going to the guardhouse and get reinforcements up for both of you, then investigate the noises. Now bloody move!" a guard captain bellowed, barely outside her door.

The crossbowmen gave a yell that could only be described as a "haroo!"

She swore under her breath as she rolled out of her bed, grabbed her dagger from the nightstand, and felt her way to the door. Light was flickering under the corridor. She pulled the door open, nearly screaming and shutting her eyes as the glow of a lantern-shield caught her full in the face.

"It's Genna! Don't shoot!"

She heard swearing, and Asyrio swung his lantern shield away from her. The wiry bravos was half hunched down behind his ungainly shield, crouching so the crossbowmen had a clear shot past him "Come with us. We're heading to the nursery."

She fell in with them, scurrying along the corridor. She had to jog to keep up with the guards strides.

She heard the unmistakable pang of Myrish steel-prod crossbows loosing, down in the courtyard.

Someone was yelling orders, and there was screaming too. Her heart was hammering faster in her chest, and she felt oddly cold in only her shift and smallclothes.

Asyrio jerked to a halt, and she nearly slammed into his back.

"Tommen's room." He said. He pushed at the door with the gauntlet built into his shield, but it wouldn't budge. Myrcella's door, in the room across, hung ajar.

"I've got guards! Is there anyone in there!" Asyrio yelled.

No response.

"Check Myrcella's room." Asyrio snapped. One of the crossbowmen moved off to check her room, resting his crossbow on top of his lantern-arm.

"Tommen!" Genna called. She thumped on the door.

"No sign of the girl." The crossbowman said.

The yelling was coming closer.

Her heart was hammering. "Tommen!"

She kicked the door in frustration.

"Tommen! It's aunt bloody Genna, open up-"

Something whirred past her head, and then hell broke loose. Asyrio whirled, his lantern beams silhouetting figures advancing down the corridor with long, whip thin swords in one hand and small crossbows or daggers in the other.

"Right side! To our right!"

There was the metallic, jarring pang of crossbows loosing, right next to her ear. She cringed on instinct.

"Loading! Cover!

She fumbled for the dagger she'd grabbed as the attackers charged, loosing as they came on. Asyrio's men didn't have time to reload before they were on him.

It didn't matter. He blinded the first man with his lantern and opened his throat from ear to ear, twisting out of the way of a flailing stab and the man's falling body, then grabbed the second man's blade with his mail-lined gauntlet and thrust him through the head, just beneath the eye. A third man tried to jink around his left while he freed his sword, but tripped over the first man's body, clipped Asyrio, knocking him back against the wall, then slammed into one of the crossbowmen. They staggering, tangled, only for the guard to be taken down with some sort of wrestling move and his attacker to end up with a stiletto jambed through his ear a moment later as another crossbowman stepped-or at least, that was how her mind tried to make sense of the chaos of struggling shapes.

Just as suddenly, Asyrio was charging with his men coming straight after him, the remaining attackers frantically scrambling back, parrying furiously before they outright turned to run… only for more lanterns to appear behind them, silhouetting broad tower shields and broad-bladed Myrish spears wielded overarm.

It wasn't a fight from then on. It was butchery. The last two men tried to surrender, only for one to get a spear through the throat before Asyrio grabbed the second. She could hear bellowed orders and Asyrio's yelling "Who sent you!" over and over.

She turned back to Tommen's door, pounding on it. "The assassin's are dead! It's safe to come out!"

For a long while, the door didn't open. Her heart was pounding in her chest. One of the guards suggested he could get an axe to break down the door, but she ignored him.

They were most likely alive, she knew… but that was no comfort for the part of her was whispering of the attack just being a distraction for a dagger-man to cut their throats. Finally, someone unlatched the door and pulled it open from the inside.

Myrcella stood in the doorway, Tommen behind her. "I heard the fighting and locked Tommen in here. Then we hid on the balcony."

Genna dropped down to her knees and hugged her tight. "Clever girl…"

She couldn't do it. She couldn't put Myrcella through what she'd been through, only worse. But it was too dangerous to stay here. Myrcella and Tommen had nearly been killed. Nelyn could have lost men, and he would use that as leverage. Someone would make another attempt, sooner or later...

She supposed they would have to take their chances with Aegon.

 

[Balaur]

Stannis sat the Iron Throne like a vulture perched atop a pile of carrion, glowering at those assembled-nobles, knights, merchants, and curious servants and soldiers from the Red Keep. He'd once again decided to arrive early, in the finest martial tradition of hurry up and wait.

Herself, Davos, Sace, Connor, Morgan and the other defence witnesses were on one side of the throne room, with Renly, Margaery, Guncer Sunglass, Gared and a horde of courtiers, servants, guards and septons behind them. The gathering crowd filled the rest of the hall. He'd kept the area directly in front of the throne clear. That was where the witnesses would speak.

Selyse had been put at the base of the throne, her hair covered by a coif and the skin above her lip scraped red. Two kingsguard knights and a dozen Goldcloak spearmen stood behind her. The wound she'd taken had concussed her and gashed her scalp open, but it hadn't done her any long term harm.

Hopefully this time she would avoid provoking the mob.

If she tries to get herself killed again, I'm not going to save her.

Christ-Horus knew she'd already had to do it twice.

Finally, Stannis cleared his throat. "Selyse Baratheon, you stand here accused of ordering the murder of His Holiness the High Septon and two other Septons, the wounding of the Lady Margaery Tyrell and Captain-General Tane Bayder, and the attempted murder of Lord Renly Baratheon, Hand of the King and Lord of Storm's End. How do you plead?"

"Innocent, your grace." Selyse said, looking her husband dead in the eyes.

"The persecution shall make their case." Stannis said. "Renly, come forwards, if you will."

"Oh, of course." Renly's case was brutal and efficient. The confession was read out, Renly recounted what he had seen in the attack. Margaery explained how she knew Selyse hated her. She didn't give her opinion on who had given out the orders.

Avoiding either lying, or going against her husband. Sensible.

A dozen courtiers came forwards one by one, all painting a picture of Selyse as a fanatic who believed that the Red God would protect her from the consequences of her actions, that Margaery, Renly and the Faith plotted against her, and who had become less and less stable since coming to court.

Selyse remained silent, stone faced.

Gared said that he'd been close to getting an even more detailed confession out of Bill when he'd killed himself. He didn't mention Sallereon's confession. He had to know that she'd rip any confession from him apart. The letter was only briefly raised, but Renly confessed it seemed almost too much to believe. "Now, this letter could have planted to undermine this case, that is true. Gared has already told me of his suspicions. But if it true, then it is the most damning evidence yet." He knows.

Then Renly described Imry's coup. "Do you think that the actions of an innocent man? His men tried to storm the rookery of the Red Keep, most like trying to warn their co-conspirators what had happened. If Selyse was innocent, they would know they had nothing to fear and would await justice. As you can see, your grace, I believe that in all likelihood that Selyse Baratheon is guilty of everything she has been charged with and more, and that worse, at least some of her kin are guilty also."

He returned to his place at the side, a satisfied look on his face.

"Now, what witnesses do you have to plead your innocence?" Stannis asked Selyse.

She turned to them. "The lady Tane Bayder."

For fucks sake, Captain-General. She was a bastard. She hadn't inherited any worthwhile titles from her father, and her mother was a kept woman from the lower gentry. She had no titles but what she'd earned with her pole-axe to speak of.

She stepped forwards, rehearsing the arguments in her head.

"Selyse Baratheon bore Margaery Tyrell ill-will, but I do not believe she murdered the High Septon."

She hammered away on the points she was making, calling up other witnesses. Margaery came forwards and agreed that Selyse considered her a spy. Bill of the Storm's End guard corroborated that he'd scarcely ever seen Bill the assassin go to the nightfires. Davos agreed that there was no plausible agent of Selyse's in the free cities. She pointed out the leaps of logic in Selye's plan, and asked why she would drag in the Ironborn. Sace told the court how she'd shot the last assassin, and said that only some of the assassins where Rhllorites.

She pointed out how poorly Selyse had defended herself; surely if she had carefully planned assassination and rebellion, she would have a defence ready rather than stumbling about provoking mobs? There was nervous laughter when she recounted the tale of Lord Roxton and how he'd been tortured into confessing to causing the doom of Valyria.

She explained how Selyse had to be both an idiot to openly tell the assassin to kill Margaery and rather subtle to slip someone past Davos to hire them. Why the fuck did she leave incriminating letters lying around rather than burning them the second she couldn't send them immedietely? Bill was not at the nightfires enough for his fellow guardsmen to notice. She hated Margaery, but the attack on her was opportunistic, while the attack on the High Septon, which was properly planned, had no motive. The assassin's testimony was unreliable; certainly, Sallereon's was. He would confess to anything.

Then she brought Imry Florent forwards to explain why he had tried to seize the tower. "I feared a coup, that the Queen would be killed and Stannis deceived as to the circumstances. I wanted to get ravens out explaining what had happened to Stannis. I tried to win over Tane thinking she would be on the side of justice, but she ordered me arrested."

"There was no need for that." Davos said, his voice quiet. "I was composing a full account of events the moment the coup began."

"If you believed your cousin was being arrested on false charges, could be executed, and that your life was in danger, would you not do the same?" Tane asked.

There was a murmur of agreement amongst the Queen's Men and Kingsmen in the room. Tane didn't have much of an eye for crowds, besides when they were trying to kill her, but some of the Tyrell bannermen were talking amongst themselves already, looks of concern on their faces.

Then came the killing blows.

"It is our opinion that not only is Her Grace innocent of these charges, but that some of the evidence against her was falsified. Varys had control of much of the jail staff, and Petyr Baelish backs the pretenders and may still have agents in the city. They have caught us all in a web of intrigue." Tane said.

Don't accuse Renly directly of treason. That was what Davos had said. Leave him an out, a way to admit he'd made a mistake without admitting to framing the queen. If she moved against him directly the risk of civil war was too high.

Davos came forwards. "This letter claims to show that Selyse was conspiring with the Ironborn to attack Westeros just as she killed Renly and the High Septon and cast the realm into chaos. A terrible attack on the queen, if true."

One of his men, a scruffy Essosi in an ill-fitting blue doublet at his side, came up.He was holding a sheaf of documents.

"This is the forger Baelyr, reformed. He is one of no less than four such forgers, or customs men used to looking for forgeries, that I have shown this letter to, along with all the writings by Selyse, her maester, her family and her household I could find. It is not the writing of a highborn lady or of a formally trained maester, but rather that of a corrupt clerk trying to imitate the same. He says the handwriting resembles most closely, of the samples I showed him, that of the torturer Gared. Indeed, this letter was found only after the coup. Slow for it to be found by searching, but quick enough to be forged and planted. This, I believe, was planted by the enemies of the realm to make the situation worse."

Then came her own testimony, about how she'd interrogated Sallereon, and every threat had him taking his story in stranger and stranger directions. "All I had to do was wave a knife around and he'd confess that Varys was a Manderly in disguise!"

There was nervous laughter from the hall.

Then she explained how Bill had died and called forwards Connor, the company surgeon. She'd had him examine Bill's corpse.

"He was murdered." Connor said. "The fractured skull was too severe to have been self-inflicted, but was rather caused by a blunt instrument to the back of the head. There were also scrapes on his hands and torn out hair, consistent with a struggle… the killer beat his head in, then made it seem as if he'd committed suicide by slamming his head against the wall."

Morgan, her company witch, described the times she'd caught tongueless children creeping through the walls, though she left out how she'd tracked them down with her third eye. "Such agents could easily have planted evidence, or crept in to murder the assassin. Varys also had many agents amongst the jail staff.

Stannis glared down from his throne. "Renly, do you have any answer to this?"

"Captain-General Tane Bayder is an honest woman, and I believe her objections are sincere, though all of them have explanations. But I do not trust Davos's testimony. He is a criminal and a lowborn, still close to the Florents. Look at who he brought to testify today! A forger who boasted of his skill in the very throne room! And the murder of Bill? Well, I must thank Connor for his work in finding the cause of death, but it is just as credible that the agents of Selyse or someone else who was against her downfall, like, say, Aegon or Euron-had him killed to stop any further confessions. And Sallereon? He never knew much. Gared was far more careful to ensure he did not prejudice Bill's confession."

"Davos has been loyal to me for well over fifteen years." Stannis said. "I will not have you impugn his honour. Meanwhile, Gared either murdered a valuable prisoner, or let him be silenced."

"Loyalty? Or sticking to you while the going is good, then jumping ship for Selyse when he sees an opportunity?"

"What opportunity would I gain by supporting Selyse?" Davos asked. "I love her little. I only went where the truth led me."

"You are close to her daughter Shireen, no? My death, and the death of Margaery's child, would clear the line of succession for her."

There were yells of shock.

"Being fond of my king's daughter is hardly motive for murder!" Davos snapped, anger creeping into his voice.

"ENOUGH!" Stannis bellowed. "Ser Loras, Ser Balon, seize Gared and bring him to me. He will explain these going-ons in his dungeons himself."

"There's a problem with that." Morgan called. "He just left the hall through the servant's door. And he's now running away from it."

Oh, fuck.

"Morgan, Sace, with me." Tane snapped, turning back to the side door behind them. She'd let Varys and Baelish give her the slip. She wasn't inclined to let this bastard go.