A Game of Thrones Chapter Thirty-three

EddardRobert, I beg of you, Ned pleaded, insure what you be saying. You argon tal nance of implementationing a child.The whore is pregnant The nances fist slammed win on the council table loud as a thunderclap. I warfargonned you this would happen, Ned. back off in the barrowlands, I warned you, scarcely you did not c ar to hear it. Well, youll hear it now. I want them dead, mother and child both, and that visage Viserys as surface. Is that line of craft plenteous for you? I want them dead.The other councillors were exclusively doing their best to involve that they were somewhither else. No doubt they were wiser than he was. Eddard Stark had seldom matt-up quite so alone. You will dishonor yourself forever if you do this. hence let it be on my top, so long as it is done. I am not so blind that I cannot see the scarcelytocks of the axe when it is hanging over my own bed.There is no axe, Ned t white-haired his king. sole(prenominal) the shadow of a shadow, twenty yea rs removed . . . if it exists at all.If? Varys asked softly, wringing pulverize give ways together. My victor, you wrong me. Would I bring ties to king and council?Ned looked at the castrate coldly. You would bring us the whisperings of a traitor half a military personnel by, my lord. Perhaps Mormont is wrong. Perhaps he is lying.Ser Jorah would not defy deceive me, Varys verbalize with a sly smile. Rely on it, my lord. The princess is with child.So you say. If you ar wrong, we sine qua non not fear. If the missy miscarries, we collect not fear. If she births a daughter in place of a son, we choose not fear. If the babe dies in infancy, we take not fear.But if it is a boy? Robert insisted. If he lives?The narrow sea would clam up lie between us. I shall fear the Dothraki the day they determine their horses to run on water.The king took a swallow of wine and glowered at Ned across the council table. So you would counsel me to do no amour until the dragonspawn has lan ded his multitude on my shores, is that it?This dragonspawn is in his mothers belly, Ned express. Even Aegon did no conquering until after he was weaned.Gods You atomic number 18 stubborn as an aurochs, Stark. The king looked around the council table. fuddle the tarry of you mislaid your tongues? Will no one talk sense to this frozen-faced fool?Varys gave the king an unctuous smile and laid a soft hand on Neds sleeve. I understand your qualms, superior Eddard, truly I do. It gave me no joy to bring this grievous news to council. It is a terrible thing we contemplate, a vile thing. Yet we who presume to rule must do vile things for the good of the realm, however untold it pains us.Lord Renly shrugged. The matter seems simple enough to me. We ought to afford had Viserys and his sister killed years ago, exactly His Grace my brother get out the mistake of listening to Jon Arryn.Mercy is neer a mistake, Lord Renly, Ned replied. On the Trident, Ser Barristan here cut down a doze n good men, Roberts friends and mine. When they brought him to us, grievously wounded and near death, Roose Bolton urged us to cut his throat, but your brother said, I will not kill a firearm for loyalty, nor for fighting well, and displace his own maester to tend Ser Barristans wounds. He gave the king a long cool it look. Would that man were here today.Robert had shame enough to blush. It was not the same, he complained. Ser Barristan was a knight of the Kingsguard.Whereas Daenerys is a fourteen-year-old young woman. Ned knew he was pushing this well past the focus of wisdom, yet he could not keep silent. Robert, I ask you, what did we repeal against Aerys Targaryen for, if not to put an end to the murder of children?To put an end to Targaryens the king growled.Your Grace, I never knew you to fear Rhaegar. Ned fought to keep the scorn out of his voice, and failed. Have the years so unmanned you that you tremble at the shadow of an unborn child?Robert purpled. No to a greater extent, Ned, he warned, pointing. Not another(prenominal) word. Have you disregarded who is king here?No, Your Grace, Ned replied. Have you? comely the king bellowed. I am sick of talk. Ill be done with this, or be damned. What say you all?She must be killed, Lord Renly declared.We have no selection, murmured Varys. Sadly, sadly . . . Ser Barristan Selmy raised(a) his pale blue eyes from the table and said, Your Grace, in that respect is honor in facing an enemy on the battlefield, but none in kill him in his mothers womb. Forgive me, but I must stand with Lord Eddard.Grand Maester Pycelle cleared his throat, a process that seemed to take some minutes. My frame serves the realm, not the ruler. Once I counseled King Aerys as loyally as I counsel King Robert now, so I bear this girl child of his no ill will. Yet I ask you thisshould war come again, how many soldiers will die? How many towns will arouse? How many children will be ripped from their mothers to perish on the end of a spear? He stroked his luxuriant white beard, infinitely sad, infinitely weary. Is it not wiser, even kinder, that Daenerys Targaryen should die now so that tens of thousands skill live?Kinder, Varys said. Oh, well and truly spoken, Grand Maester. It is so true. Should the gods in their caprice grant Daenerys Targaryen a son, the realm must bleed.Littlefinger was the last. As Ned looked to him, Lord Petyr stifled a yawn. When you become yourself in bed with an ugly woman, the best thing to do is impede your eyes and get on with it, he declared. Waiting wont make the maidservant any prettier. Kiss her and be done with it.Kiss her? Ser Barristan repeated, aghast.A firebrand kiss, said Littlefinger.Robert turned to face his Hand. Well, there it is, Ned. You and Selmy stand alone on this matter. The only question that remains is, who can we puzzle to kill her?Mormont craves a royal pardon, Lord Renly reminded them.Desperately, Varys said, yet he craves life even more. By now, th e princess nears Vaes Dothrak, where it is death to draw a blade. If I told you what the Dothraki would do to the poor man who used one on a khaleesi, none of you would sleep tonight. He stroked a powdered cheek. Now, poison . . . the tears of Lys, let us say. Khal Drogo need never know it was not a natural death.Grand Maester Pycelles sleepyheaded eyes flicked open. He squinted suspiciously at the eunuch.Poison is a cowards weapon, the king complained.Ned had heard enough. You send hired knives to kill a fourteen-year-old girl and still quibble closely honor? He pushed back his chair and stood. Do it yourself, Robert. The man who passes the displaceence should swing the sword. Look her in the eyes to begin with you kill her. See her tears, hear her last actors line. You owe her that untold at least.Gods, the king swore, the word exploding out of him as if he could barely take away his fury. You mean it, damn you. He reached for the flagon of wine at his elbow, found it empty , and flung it away to shatter against the wall. I am out of wine and out of patience. Enough of this. Just have it done.I will not be tell of murder, Robert. Do as you will, but do not ask me to get under ones skin my seal to it.For a moment Robert did not seem to understand what Ned was saying. rebelliousness was not a dish he tasted often. Slowly his face changed as comprehension came. His eyes narrowed and a flush crept up his neck past the velvet collar. He pointed an angry finger at Ned. You are the Kings Hand, Lord Stark. You will do as I command you, or Ill think me a Hand who will.I wish him e truly success. Ned unchained the heavy clasp that clutched at the folds of his cloak, the ornate silver hand that was his tag of office. He laid it on the table in front of the king, saddened by the memory of the man who had pinned it on him, the friend he had loved. I apprehension you a better man than this, Robert. I horizon we had made a nobler king.Roberts face was purple. Out, he croaked, choking on his rage. Out, damn you, Im done with you. What are you waiting for? Go, run back to Winterfell. And make certain I never look on your face again, or I swear, Ill have your head on a spikeNed bowed, and turned on his heel without another word. He could feel Roberts eyes on his back. As he strode from the council chambers, the raillery resumed with scarcely a pause. On Braavos there is a society called the face little Men, Grand Maester Pycelle offered.Do you have any idea how costly they are? Littlefinger complained. You could hire an army of common sellswords for half the price, and thats for a merchant. I dont dare think what they susceptibility ask for a princess.The closing of the door roll in the hay him silenced the voices. Ser Boros Blount was stationed outside the chamber, wearing the long white cloak and outfit of the Kingsguard. He gave Ned a quick, curious glance from the corner of his eye, but asked no questions.The day felt heavy and opp ressive as he pass the bailey back to the Tower of the Hand. He could feel the threat of rain in the air. Ned would have welcomed it. It might have made him feel a trifle less unclean. When he reached his solar, he summoned Vayon Poole. The steward came at at a time. You send for me, my lord Hand?Hand no longer, Ned told him. The king and I have quarreled. We shall be returning to Winterfell.I shall begin making arrangements at once, my lord. We will need a fortnight to ready everything for the journey.We may not have a fortnight. We may not have a day. The king mentioned something about beholding my head on a spike. Ned frowned. He did not truly consider the king would harm him, not Robert. He was angry now, but once Ned was safely out of sight, his rage would cool as it continuously did.of all time? Suddenly, uncomfortably, he found himself recalling Rhaegar Targaryen. Fifteen years dead, yet Robert hates him as much as ever. It was a disturbing notion . . . and there was the other matter, the business with Catelyn and the dwarf that Yoren had warned him of last night. That would come to light soon, as sure as sunrise, and with the king in such a black fury . . . Robert might not care a fig for Tyrion Lannister, but it would touch on his pride, and there was no telling what the queen might do.It might be safest if I went on ahead, he told Poole. I will take my daughters and a some guardsmen. The rest of you can follow when you are ready. Inform Jory, but tell no one else, and do postal code until the girls and I have gone. The castle is full of eyes and ears, and I would rather my plans were not known.As you command, my lord.When he had gone, Eddard Stark went to the window and sat brooding. Robert had left him no choice that he could see. He ought to thank him. It would be good to return to Winterfell. He ought never have left. His sons were waiting there. Perhaps he and Catelyn would make a new son together when he returned, they were not so old yet. And of late he had often found himself dreaming of snow, of the deep serene of the wolfswood at night.And yet, the thought of leaving angered him as well. So much was still undone. Robert and his council of cravens and flatterers would beggar the realm if left unchecked . . . or, worse, sell it to the Lannisters in payment of their loans. And the truth of Jon Arryns death still eluded him. Oh, he had found a few pieces, enough to convince him that Jon had indeed been murdered, but that was no more than the spoor of an animal on the forest floor. He had not sighted the living creature itself yet, though he sensed it was there, lurking, hidden, treacherous.It struck him suddenly that he might return to Winterfell by sea. Ned was no sailor, and ordinarily would have preferred the kingsroad, but if he took channel he could stop at Dragonstone and speak with Stannis Baratheon. Pycelle had sent a raven off across the water, with a polite letter from Ned requesting Lord Stannis to retu rn to his seat on the small council. As yet, there had been no reply, but the silence only deepened his suspicions. Lord Stannis shared the individual(a) Jon Arryn had died for, he was certain of it. The truth he sought might very well be waiting for him on the ancient island fortress of household Targaryen.And when you have it, what then? Some secrets are safer kept hidden. Some secrets are too dangerous to share, even with those you love and trust. Ned slid the dagger that Catelyn had brought him out of the guinea pig on his belt. The Imps knife. Why would the dwarf want Bran dead? To silence him, surely. another(prenominal) secret, or only a different strand of the same network?Could Robert be part of it? He would not have thought so, but once he would not have thought Robert could command the murder of women and children either. Catelyn had tried to warn him. You knew the man, she had said. The king is a stranger to you. The sooner he was quit of Kings Landing, the better. If there was a ship sailing north on the morrow, it would be well to be on it.He summoned Vayon Poole again and sent him to the docks to make inquiries, quietly but quickly. Find me a fast ship with a skilled captain, he told the steward. I care nothing for the coat of its cabins or the quality of its appointments, so long as it is swift and safe. I wish to hold at once.Poole had no sooner taken his leave than Tomard announced a vi nonplusor. Lord Baelish to see you, mlord.Ned was half-tempted to turn him away, but thought better of it. He was not free yet until he was, he must play their games. Show him in, Tom.Lord Petyr sauntered into the solar as if nothing had gone amiss that morning. He wore a slashed velvet doublet in cream-and-silver, a grey silk cloak trimmed with black fox, and his customary teasing smile.Ned greeted him coldly. Might I ask the reason for this visit, Lord Baelish?I wont seize you long, Im on my way to dine with Lady Tanda. Lamprey pie and roast nurseling pig. She has some thought to wed me to her younger daughter, so her table is always astonishing. If truth be told, Id sooner marry the pig, but dont tell her. I do love lamprey pie.Dont let me keep you from your eels, my lord, Ned said with nippy disdain. At the moment, I cannot think of anyone whose company I desire less than yours.Oh, Im certain if you put your mind to it, you could come up with a few names. Varys, say. Cersei. Or Robert. His Grace is most wroth with you. He went on about you at some length after you took your leave of us this morning. The words insolence and ingratitude came into it frequently, I seem to recall.Ned did not honor that with a reply. Nor did he offer his guest a seat, but Littlefinger took one anyway. after you stormed out, it was left to me to convince them not to hire the faceless Men, he continue blithely. Instead Varys will quietly let it be known that well make a lord of whoever does in the Targaryen girl.Ned was disgusted. So now we grant ti tles to assassins.Littlefinger shrugged. Titles are cheap. The Faceless Men are expensive. If truth be told, I did the Targaryen girl more good than you with all your talk of honor. Let some sellsword drunk on visions of lordship try to kill her. Likely hell make a flub of it, and afterward the Dothraki will be on their guard. If wed sent a Faceless Man after her, shed be as good as buried.Ned frowned. You sit in council and talk of ugly women and steel kisses, and now you expect me to retrieve that you tried to protect the girl? How big a fool do you take me for?Well, quite an enormous one, actually, said Littlefinger, laughing.Do you always find murder so amusing, Lord Baelish?Its not murder I find amusing, Lord Stark, its you. You rule like a man dancing on rotten ice. I daresay you will make a noble splash. I believe I heard the first crack this morning.The first and last, said Ned. Ive had my fill.When do you mean to return to Winterfell, my lord?As soon as I can. What conce rn is that of yours?None . . . but if perchance youre still here come evenfall, Id be pleased to take you to this brothel your man Jory has been look for for so ineffectually. Littlefinger smiled. And I wont even tell the Lady Catelyn.