Chapter 39: Growing Roots
'As much as any scholar of the epoch has to acknowledge the lasting effects the Ruby Order, despite their relatively short time in Westeros, has had on the society and history of the Seven Kingdoms, there is - as I have mentioned before - a tendency to attribute far too many historical developments to them. While they have influenced the Faith in significant ways, most notably in influencing the High Septon of the time to start his famous reforms, as proven by his own accounts, there is no evidence that they were responsible for the judiciary reforms of Westeros and a lot of evidence against that claim. First, those changes began much, much later - decades, even according to the most generous interpretations of what was such a reform - than their visit. Second, while the members of the Ruby Order were demonstratively much kinder when it came to punishments than their contemporaries, they were by no means what a modern reader would call 'progressive'. The idea that they were aware of modern concepts of criminology can only be called preposterous. The society of their time lacked everything that could have served as a base to develop such concepts. Just because they were kind and merciful does not mean they were proponents of reforming criminals rather than punishing them, as evidenced by their documented involvement in numerous trials.'
A Treatise On The Ruby Order, by Maester Kennet Bracken
*****
The Red Keep, King's Landing, Crownlands, Westeros, 298 AC
Terese stared at the bars in front of the window of her cell. They were thick and sturdy. She had checked for rust and weaknesses and had found none. They were also solidly set in the stones of the wall, not merely set in mortar that maybe could be scraped off with a metal tool. Not that she had a metal tool, anyway. And her fingernails couldn't do anything to the mortar - she had tried.
The hinges of the cell door were on the hallway side, so she couldn't do anything about those either. And the door was made of thick oak planks, held together with iron bars. The window in the door was too small to wriggle through, even for her, and barred anyway.
And there was no secret passage leading out of this cell - she had known that, yet searched anyway. Fruitlessly.
She was truly trapped. And an utter failure.
That hurt the most. More than her fingertips. More than the bruises on her ribs and arms. Lord Varys counted on them, depended on them to save him, and Terese had failed. Had failed him.
That all her fellow little birds had failed as well - she knew that from overhearing the witches and guards tallying them up while she had been beaten and tied up in the tunnels - made it even worse.
They hadn't been able to save Lord Varys. And they had been his last hope. No one else would help him. Everyone was in the thrall of the witches - the stupid smallfolk, the foolish nobles, even the childish king. Not that he could do anything, anyway - he was too little to know or do anything.
All of them hated Varys. The smallfolk had come to kill him, as if he had done anything wrong. The nobles wanted to kill him so they could hide their plots and crimes. And the witches wanted him gone because he was the only one who knew what they were.
Lord Varys and his birds.
She sniffled and felt her eyes grow wet. Again. She wiped them with her sleeve - the one that hadn't been torn away by the witches. He couldn't die! He was all Terese and the others had! He saved them from the evil slavers who had prepared them for sacrifices. Who had cut out their tongues for their evil rituals. He cared for them. Taught them how to read or write. Gave them a home. A life. A mission.
No one else had done that. No one else had done anything for them. Those who didn't ignore them like they ignored slaves back in Essos looked down on them. Cursed at them, chased them away, out of sight. Called them rats and thieves and scum. Or tried to catch them, for their wicked, warped designs.
Not Lord Varys. He cared. He was one of them - a slave child, mutilated for magic. They had not cut out his tongue, though - they had cut his manhood. And that was worse than losing your tongue. Terese knew that from the others. The boys. Without a tongue, you couldn't talk. But you could write. And listen. And the birds understood each other, anyway. They knew each other.
As Lord Varys knew them. He had been one of them, and he had managed to escape, and then he had started saving them. As many as he could.
He was so kind. Made sure they had enough food. Arranged a home for them - a house where they were safe. Where no one could abuse them. Where it was just them. His little birds. No one else.
She sniffled again and realised her cheeks had grown wet. She missed him. She missed his kind voice. His kind smile. His praise when she had done well. The sweets he gave them as a reward.
She swallowed. She would never get a sweet again. She would never see Lord Varys again. She would never see her family again. Because she had failed her most important mission. Hadn't been good enough. Not strong enough. Not quick enough. Not skilled enough. Not good enough to save Lord Varys.
She pressed her face into the crook of her elbow and cried. The witches had won. They would kill Lord Varys, sacrifice him for their evil magic. And they would do the same to Terese and her friends. They would be gone. Killed for magic. Because they had failed.
Because… She tensed. Steps. People were coming. For a moment, she held her breath. Was today the day they would be killed? Sacrificed? But wouldn't that happen in the dark of the night? The witches couldn't act openly, could they? She couldn't see much of the sky outside, but it was pretty bright, so… close to noon? Was it time for the food already?
She sniffed the air, but there was no way she'd smell porridge that far. Much less hard bread and cheese, or whatever they fed them today. But she heard the doors open - the guards were here. And she heard the clatter of the wooden bowls. Food, then.
The door to her own cell opened, and a guard in chainmail entered. He was wearing a tabard with the sigil of House Baratheon - Lord Stannis's branch, she noted out of reflex. He sneered at her and put down the bowl containing bread and some cheese, then pushed it towards her with so much force, a piece of bread fell out. He kicked that towards her as well.
She got up, and he tensed. It felt good to see that. But the chain that tied her ankle to the wall behind her wasn't long enough to let her reach him. Not even if she threw herself forward - she had measured the distance when she had been alone.
She grabbed the bowl and the bread from the floor and quickly started to eat before the guard could take it away.
"Should let you starve, you filthy murderer," the guard spat. "The Four Maidens are too kind. Far too kind."
She shuddered. The witches were evil. Monsters that had bathed in the blood of countless children to toughen their skins and stay young. Lord Varys had told them so, and he knew all about magic.
Chewing, she looked at him. Maybe he would lose his temper and step too close? If she could get his dagger… If she cut his tendons, she might take him hostage.
He took a step closer, but not close enough and crouched down. "You burned my brother. He was in so much pain… I wanted to give him the Stranger's mercy. Kill my kin just so he wouldn't suffer anymore. The Maester tried to save him, but it only made him suffer longer, even with the milk of the poppy. The stench of his flesh… And you did that! You killed him!"
She hissed at him. His stupid brother had been guarding Lord Varys! She'd burn the entire city if it would save Lord Varys!
He made a weird noise, like a scoff and a sob mixed together. "My brother. Burnt to death by a filthy rat serving a traitor!" He wiped his eyes with his hand and glared at her.
Terese hissed again, wishing she could talk. Lord Varys was her family! He was the only one she had! And they had taken him from her! Of course, she would fight for him!
"And yet the Maidens spared you." He shook his head. "They are too kind for this world."
She glared at him, baring her teeth. They weren't kind! They were monsters! Evil witches who would kill Lord Varys for their power!
"Trying to curse me?" He laughed. "You need a tongue for that."
She threw the empty bowl at him. It was too light to hurt him - they had learned their lesson after the first time - and bounced off the arm he had raised to shield his face.
He sneered again as he grabbed it and got up. "I hope you suffer as my brother did!" he said when he left the cell.
She clenched her teeth and tried not to cry again. She was already suffering for her failure. Her and all the others.
*****
The Red Keep, King's Landing, Crownlands, Westeros, 298 AC
Terese heard steps again - many steps. The guards never came alone to the cells so that they could assist each other should Terese or one of the others manage to get to one of them. But she knew how the guards sounded, and this sound was different. Somehow.
She scuttled as much towards the cell door as her chain allowed and heard the door to the stairs open.
"...and we've treated them as you said, my lady. But we, ah, had to chain them to the walls after one of them attacked a guard during feeding time."
"You chained them to the wall."
Terese froze. That voice… cold, tense… she had heard it before.
"They're dangerous murderers, my lady." That was the guard whose brother had burned. He sounded as if he were afraid, now. And he should be. "They've killed my brother, my lady! Burned him alive!"
"You have my condolences. We were too late to save him."
"It wasn't your fault, my lady. It was theirs."
"It was Varys's fault. He ordered them to do it."
"But they did the deed, my lady."
"They didn't know any better. We know that from the others."
'We'? Terese held her breath as she realised where she had heard the voice before. Lady Blake, the silent witch. The stalker.
She couldn't help it - she rushed back, to the wall, and pressed herself against it. The witches were coming for her. Today, she would die. As much as she hated it, and knew this was the just punishment for her failures, she still couldn't help hoping that they would pick someone else.
Then her door opened, and she cried.
Footsteps came closer. Soft, but deliberate. The witch wanted her to hear it.
She pressed her eyes shut and lowered her head, holding her breath. She couldn't face this.
"Hey." A whisper. Again, deceptively soft.
Terese swallowed.
"Don't be afraid. I know what happened to you."
Of course, she knew! She had done this to Terese and the others. She and the rest of the witches! She had arrested Lord Varys!
"I know what Varys did to you."
He had done nothing to them! She found herself staring, hissing at the witch before she realised what she had done and froze again, caught staring at those yellow eyes.
"I want to help you."
She shook her head. Lies! The witches wanted to kill them. Them and Lord Varys!
The witch reached out and touched her shoulder.
Terese's entire body froze. Would she snap her neck? Cave her head in? Rip out her heart?
"We know what happened to you. But we don't know you. There was a boy. He went missing a few days after the attempt to poison my friends at the smithy."
What was she talking about? Terese hadn't done anything about that.
"He was killed - murdered - in the Red Keep. And his tongue was missing. Did you know him? I've brought chalk and a slate. If you would write down his name, so we can bury him properly?"
Bren. It must be Bren. He vanished around that time - caught by the witches! Killed by them. Like Terese would be killed.
Terese shook her head. She wouldn't give the witch any information about anyone!
"Varys murdered him because he knew too much."
No! Terese shook her head. The witch was lying. She had had Bren murdered!
She shook her head again, squeezing her eyes shut. She would die here, but she wouldn't fall for the witch's lies.
"I want to help you."
She was lying. Witches didn't care about anything but their power. Lord Varys had told Terese that.
"I know what Varys did to you. He raised you to obey him without question. But he lied to you from the beginning. You were manipulated. You and all your friends."
Terese felt her heart skip a beat. None of the others in those cells had been taken away - she would have heard that. This monster must have taken the youngest, those who hadn't been able to get away!
Those she and the rest had left behind. But they couldn't have protected them and saved Lord Varys at the same time.
But now the witch was coming for her. And she was helpless.
She did her best to curl into herself, to look away, to try to shut out the witch's voice.
And hoped that when death would come, it would be quick.
*****
The Red Keep, King's Landing, Crownlands, Westeros, 298 AC
Ruby Rose had to admit that, in hindsight, interrogating someone who couldn't talk hadn't been a good idea.
"Did Varys give you contingency orders? I mean, did you have orders on what you should do if he were arrested?" Weiss asked again.
The girl - they didn't know her name - shook her head. She had done that since they had started asking her questions, no matter what Ruby had tried. And she had tried a lot.
"So, did you decide on your own to attempt to free him?" Weiss went on. She was clearly frustrated; Ruby knew the signs well enough to tell. Not that that was hard at this point.
The girl shook her head again.
"What were you planning to do then when you tried to storm the Red Keep?" Weiss leaned forward, both palms on the table between them and the girl. Like in a police show, Ruby thought.
The girl shook her head once again and tried to lean away from Weiss. Since she was tied to the chair - it had been the only way to keep her sitting there and stop her from trying to escape, attack Ruby and Weiss, or try to run into the wall to hurt herself - she didn't get much of a distance.
Weiss leaned further in, almost leaning on the table. "What were you planning to do?" She nodded at the piece of chalk they had brought. "Write it on the table."
Ruby made a mental note to reimburse the castle servant who had given them the slate to write on; it had broken bouncing off her forehead when the girl had thrown it at her. In hindsight, maybe they should have expected that after hearing about the reason for he wooden bowls the prisoners got. And the lack of cutlery.
The girl kept shaking her head and crying. Ruby wanted to wince. It felt wrong to scare the girl so much. The girl who had burned a man to death, she remembered - the brother of one of the guards, Kev, who had brought them here. That was horrible. But… she was still a little kid. Not even old enough to enter Signal, Ruby would guess. Or maybe old enough - kids were smaller here than back home, at least smallfolk children.
"We know you can write," Weiss said. "All of you were taught how to write. You can answer my questions in writing."
The girl was shaking her head so hard, Ruby saw a tear flying to the side. This couldn't go on!
She stepped up and put a hand on her partner's shoulder. "Weiss… let off a bit."
Weiss narrowed her eyes at her, then at the girl, whose whole body was now shaking, then stepped back with a frown.
Ruby smiled as reassuringly as she could at the girl. "Hey!"
The girl looked away.
Well, that was to be expected. Ruby wouldn't let that discourage her. "We don't mean you any harm. We're here to help you."
The girl stiffened, and Ruby thought she heard a hiss. Not… well, not like Blake, when she was abruptly woken up from a nap with a whistle, but more like a gasp.
"Really," she went on. "We know what you were going through. We want to help you."
The girl hunched over, leaning away from her as she had from Weiss.
"Can you write down your name so we know how to address you?" Ruby asked. "It's a bit weird to talk to you without knowing your name." Even if they had been doing this for what felt like a long time now. Maybe she would open up now?
The girl shook her head again, and Ruby could see that she was clenching her teeth. So, no, she wouldn't.
"Please," Ruby said. "We won't harm you - I promise you. I'll give you my word."
The girl still refused to look at her. And she still looked terribly scared. Of Ruby.
She didn't like that. She shouldn't be scaring anyone, much less children. Did she think that Ruby and her friends were witches? Like Varys had claimed? "We aren't witches," Ruby said. "We didn't 'sacrifice' anyone for our powers. If he told you that, he lied."
The girl shook her head, and she was crying again.
"This isn't working," Weiss commented behind Ruby. "It seems clear that she wholeheartedly believes what lies Varys has spread."
"But…" Ruby trailed off. Who would believe such… such stupid lies? Her team had never done anything to make people think they were witches who sacrificed people! "Why would anyone believe his lies? All we have done is help people!" she asked Weiss.
The girl behind her hissed again, but when Ruby turned to look at her, she whimpered and flinched, and Ruby winced.
This wasn't working. "Let's… talk to another child," she said. They couldn't all be that scared, could they?
*****
"So, not even your good cop/bad cop routine worked?"
Ruby frowned at Yang's question. "What do you mean?" she asked while she did some checks on Crescent Rose.
"Yes, what do you mean by that, 'good cop/bad cop routine'?" Weiss asked, though in that sharp tone of hers that showed she was annoyed. Or insulted. "I'll have you know that we were perfectly professional."
"Good cop/bad cop is a professional method to interrogate suspects," Blake said, looking up from the book she had borrowed (or 'borrowed', Ruby hadn't asked and wasn't going to ask if she had asked first) from the royal library. Apparently, it was a relatively new book, so Blake could read it without problems, but it wasn't about magic, so that didn't help them get home. Though it helped Blake feel better after her failure to connect to the kids, so that was another reason Ruby wasn't going to ask about the book's origin. Or what it was about - she had learned that lesson back in Beacon. "We were taught about it in the White Fang so we wouldn't fall for it in case we were ever arrested."
Yang grinned and pointed at her partner. "Yeah! And Ruby and Weiss make the perfect good cop/bad cop duo."
"Excuse me! Why would I be the bad cop?" Weiss protested.
Ruby wasn't going to answer that either. Instead, she shook her head. "That doesn't matter. What matters is that the kids didn't talk to us - well, didn't write to us. Or answer with a nod. Like when you talked to them, they just kept shaking their heads or ignored us. And they were shaking with fear, too."
"All of them?" Blake frowned, putting her book down.
"Yes." Ruby nodded. "We tried everything, and nothing worked."
"It seems Varys's indoctrination was very thorough," Weiss added.
Blake nodded. "If every child of the thirteen we've captured in the tunnels refused to talk, then that's true. Although neither of you is a trained interrogator, so that relativises the results somewhat."
She was right, Ruby knew. Even Weiss couldn't claim to be a trained interrogator. She grumbled some, though. Still… "We can't just give up on them, though." They had to do something! They couldn't just abandon the kids! And they couldn't help the kids if the kids didn't believe them.
"There's Varys to be interrogated," Weiss pointed out.
Yes. If they could get Varys to confess how he had manipulated the kids, maybe that would convince the children…
"If he survives until the interrogation," Blake said. "He knows too much about the nobles here."
Ruby stared at her. "He's guarded by at least six guards, taken from three different noble houses." They had insisted on that so that even if one guard - or one noble - turned traitor, they couldn't free or kill Varys."
"And it is very likely that all of them have a vested interest in silencing Varys," Blake replied.
"They also have a vested interest in finding out what he knows," Weiss objected.
"Yes," Blake said. "But do you think Varys will actually talk about his plots? Instead of sowing as much chaos and strife by revealing as many secrets of the noble families at Court as he can."
Ruby winced. Varys seemed the type to do that - he had already tried to do it. "So… you think everyone will work together to kill him?"
Blake shrugged. "It's possible, but I think it's likelier that someone finds a way around the guards and kills him in his cell."
"You seem remarkably blasée about this possibility," Weiss commented.
Blake nodded in return but didn't say anything.
Ruby winced again.
"He's not a big loss," Yang said instead. "He took those kids, had them maimed, then raised them as his spies - and probably killed them off when they knew too much or grew too old to believe his lies."
"We don't know if he killed the children when they grew up," Ruby said. They couldn't just assume this. "And if he dies, we might never know."
"You think he'll tell us anything?" Yang snorted. "He claims we're bloodthirsty witches who will kill the children."
"We don't know if he actually believes that or if it's just something he told the children to make them fear us and obey him," Weiss said.
"He won't tell us the truth - not unless he thinks the truth will hurt us most," Blake said with a scowl. "Not even if it would help the children. Especially not if it would help the children to realise how he abused them."
"That doesn't mean we should let him get murdered," Ruby said.
"He'll be executed anyway," Yang said. "For slavery."
"And treason," Weiss added. "And since he's not a noble, he can't ask for a trial by combat."
Right. Ruby nodded. He wasn't a lord, even if people - smallfolk mostly - called him that.
"If he would get a trial by combat. I'd fight him or his champion," Blake said.
Right. Ruby should have expected that as well. Still… "It's not right to let him get murdered in his cell."
"We would have to guard him around the clock," Blake retorted. "That would mean we couldn't do much else. And that would put others in danger."
"We could call for more guards," Weiss suggested. "That would reduce the chance that an assassin can get to him."
"They'll probably use poison anyway. We'd have to eat everything he does, so we won't risk someone else as a food taster who cannot survive a poison," Blake said.
That sounded… Ruby bit her lower lip. It would be selfish, terribly selfish, to let someone get murdered because you didn't want to spend your day guarding them and tasting their food, wouldn't it?
"Ruby, we can't sacrifice our lives for Varys." Yang seemed to have read her mind again.
"I most certainly won't abandon everything else we need to do here to keep this kingdom from collapsing just to keep this manipulative slaver alive until his execution," Weiss said.
Blake nodded in obvious agreement. And Ruby could see Yang shaking her head at her.
She sighed. It wasn't right. But doing all that for Varys wouldn't be right either. "I hate this," she said.
"We all do," Yang replied. "But what else can we do?"
Ruby had no answer to that. It was so frustrating! They couldn't help the children - except for keeping them from being executed. They couldn't get Varys to confess what he had been doing. They couldn't even keep him from getting murdered. They could ask for more help from the nobles or the faith, but as Blake had said, if someone used poison, they would put a foodtaster at risk by asking for them. And no number of guards would stop the still unknown assassin who had murdered the King and poisoned Yang.
She blinked. "Do you think Varys was behind the poisonings?"
The others frowned.
"I wouldn't put it past him," Blake said.
"He is an obvious suspect, though I wonder what his motive would have been. For the murder of the King - we know the assassin wanted to murder you and Yang at Mott's smithy," Weiss said.
Ruby sighed again. If Varys was behind those murders, he might take the knowledge into his grave.
"Even if he claims to be the culprit, we couldn't trust him - he might be trying to get us and the Court to lower our guard so the real assassin has an easier time with their next target," Blake said.
Right. Ruby really missed school. Compared to trying to make sense of the plotting here at court, even Professor Oobleck's lessons were easy to understand.
"And we still need to address the other urgent problem that we need to deal with related to the kids," Weiss said.
Right. They had talked about that already, but they hadn't told the others yet. Well, Blake probably had realised that already. Ruby sighed again. "They're too dangerous."
*****
The Red Keep, King's Landing, Crownlands, Westeros, 298 AC
"...so, while it was decided that the boys who attacked the Keep will be sent to the Night's Watch and the girls who were with them will join the Silent Sisters, you have developed more concerns about this." Lord Eddard frowned as he summed up the situation.
He wasn't the only one, Weiss Schnee saw. Lord Renly was frowning as well, and Lord Stannis was scowling, but he was doing that so often, it was almost normal. She had expected that, anyway. "Yes, my lord regent," she said. "You are undoubtedly aware that the children were thoroughly indoctrinated by Varys."
"Yes. You have explained that at length," Lord Eddard replied.
"However, we have talked to - or at - them all, and we think that currently, they might be a flight risk," Weiss went on.
"If they desert the Watch, they will be put to death," Lord Stannis growled. "You cannot demand an exception for them in that case."
"The Night's Watch cannot afford deserters," Lord Eddard agreed. "It relies on this."
Weiss was aware of that. "We've met the Night's Watch, my lord regent," she said with a slightly toothy smile. Indeed, she wouldn't really trust every member of the Watch with anything. "However, those children were also trained as spies - trained so expertly, they spied on most members of the Court without being exposed, and almost overcame the guards you posted in the secret passages despite their age."
"They're as dangerous as grown men, in other words," Lord Renly commented.
The insinuation was clear - they should be treated and tried as adults - but Weiss nodded anyway. "Indeed. And they will likely use every opportunity to escape, and might hurt or kill people while doing so."
"The Watch has handled worse," Lord Eddard said.
"A lot of their numbers are made up of thieves, rapists and murderers," Lord Renly added.
"And of traitors to the realm," Lord Stannis said.
"Good, honest people still volunteer for the Watch," Lord Eddard said with unusual sharpness. "Such as my brother, Benjen Stark. And the Lord Commander."
"Of course, my lord regent," Lord Renly was quick to reply. "I was merely talking about those taken from prisons and jails in the South."
It was a weak apology, but better than Stannis's non-existent one, in Weiss's opinion. But they were straying from the topic. "Are you certain that the Watch can handle those children? And that the Silent Sisters are up to this challenge as well?" She knew the locals were prone to underestimating girls - even though some of those girls had killed grown men.
"Yes," Lord Eddard said.
Weiss didn't think so, but she was certain the Council's minds were made up. So she nodded. "I will talk to the High Septon, though, about reaching out to the children. They need care so they can realise how they were lied to and abused." And some tips on how to deal with dangerous children.
Still, Weiss wouldn't bet that this would go well. The boys at the Wall might not be familiar with the environment and geography, and might be easily caught if they deserted, but if they managed to escape on the way to the wall, in more familiar regions, or if they were smart enough to play the long game, as Blake called it, and waited until they knew how to survive in the North… She could only hope that this wouldn't end up hurting someone else. Or, a small, nasty voice in the back of her mind added, someone she cared about.
*****
The Red Keep, King's Landing, Crownlands, Westeros, 298 AC
It felt good to ambush someone instead of being ambushed by someone. Well, figuratively, not literally, Weiss thought as she moved in on her target, who was just entering the Great Hall. "Lady Melisandre. Good morning."
"Lady Weiss." If the priestess was surprised, she didn't show it. Then again, most people at court were able to hide their reactions and emotions very well. And of those who seemed to lack the ability, half were probably exaggerating or straight faking it to be underestimated. "How may I help you?"
"I was wondering about magic - specifically, magic used in Essos and the East," Weiss said. She had asked Archmaester Marwyn about this, and he had confirmed that some magic used sacrifices, but she wanted a second opinion. The Archmaester was still convinced that their Aura and Semblances were magic as well, after all.
"Oh? Have you a reason that your way home might be found there?" the woman asked, raising her eyebrows.
"No, unfortunately, our search for a place similar to the ruins in our world has not yet borne fruit," Weiss explained. They might have to move to Old Town to search the library of the Order there, if the royal library turned out to contain nothing of use. "But a recent event made me wonder about how magic is practised there."
"You are talking about the accusations Varys levelled against you, I presume."
"Yes." Weiss had expected the priestess to be aware of that - the rumours had spread throughout the Keep and city, according to Blake, and had been distorted significantly in the process, as had the rumours about the things Varys had said to the small council. "I was aware that some magic required sacrifices - the legends we heard in the North spoke about such magic being done in the Godswoods of old. But it seemed Varys had some personal experience with such acts, not merely knowledge of some tales."
"No doubt he had a personal encounter with a sorcerer or witch," Melisandre said. "Many of the more powerful arts require a sacrifice. Although we shouldn't talk about such matters where people might overhear us and draw the wrong conclusions in their ignorance."
Weiss nodded. "Shall we talk in the yard, then?" No one except for Blake would be able to come close enough to overhear them there without Weiss noticing.
"Yes."
Outside, the weather was overcast but not rainy. "Autumn is coming," Lady Melisandre commented.
Weiss nodded. It was growing a bit colder - at least, according to her friends. For someone born and raised in Atlas, it was still quite warm. Not that the seasons in this world made much sense. Years-long summers and winters? Her astronomy tutor would probably have fits if they knew about this. But that wasn't why she had sought out the woman. "So," she said once they had walked to the middle of the yard, well away from prying ears, "powerful magic requires a sacrifice?"
"In general, yes. Magic demands a price. The more powerful, the more expensive. The Valyrians were infamous for the mass sacrifices of slaves that some of their rituals demanded. Though back in those days, magic was generally more powerful, and far more could be done back then without killing or maiming someone than today."
The smile on her face could almost be called nostalgic, Weiss thought. Was she lamenting the fact that she hadn't been born in the past? "So, Varys was correct?"
"About the magic he knew, yes. But your magic is different. I am quite knowledgeable about the art, and yet, I do not know a way to achieve the powers you possess."
"It's not magic but Aura and Semblances," Weiss corrected her. "It's our souls made manifest. Augmented by Dust in some cases," she added for correctness's sake.
"And achieved without any sacrifice."
"Unless you count many, many hours spent training," Weiss replied. "Those who do not spend the effort, those who do not dedicate their lives to this, will never use such power." That was a bit of hyperbole - you could achieve such power, and more, and then spend the rest of your life in a drunken stupor. But you had to make the effort to gain it. "We have legends of magic, but those were fairy tales. We have found no proof that they were ever real, and I don't recall any such sacrifices, either."
"You sound like you do not fully believe that. Not any more."
Weiss snorted. The woman was even more perceptive than she had anticipated. "Yes. Something transported us to this world, and I do not think that was a Semblance. And we know that magic is real here. So… it might have existed once in our world as well."
"And might have waned, like in this world, until only legends thought tall tales remained. Many in Westeros did not believe in magic, either. At least amongst those who fancied themselves educated," Lady Melisandre said. "They have, since your arrival, been forced to correct their assumptions."
Weiss nodded. That hadn't been her or her friends' fault. They hadn't wanted to come here. So, Varys's lies were based on facts. And yet… "You know a lot about magic. More than anyone we have met so far." Even more than the Archmaester. Which was why she was talking to her in the first place. "And you wield magic as well."
Lady Melisandre nodded.
Weiss didn't ask if she had used sacrifices herself. She was pretty certain she knew the answer now, and it matched the Archmaester's suspicions.
Just as Lady Melisandre seemed to be about to say something else, she suddenly turned, and a crow who had been picking at worms or spilt seeds - Weiss didn't care about either - cawed and then flew away.
"Maybe we should have sought the privacy of a chamber in the Keep," Lady Melisandre said.
Weiss narrowed her eyes. She knew crows were very smart birds, almost as smart as ravens, which were used as mail carriers here, but to be used as spies? Was the priestess trying to pull her leg? Or make her paranoid about birds? Should she ask straight away? Or look into it herself with her friends?
She was still wondering about that when they parted ways again.
*****
The Red Keep, King's Landing, Crownlands, Westeros, 298 AC
Blake Belladonna gripped the wooden post next to her tightly as she watched the children be loaded onto wagons - shackled and pushed into cages - on the other side of the yard, next to the entrance to the dungeons. A man in the black leathers of the Night's Watch, apparently, one of their recruiters, was watching. He was used to transporting dangerous prisoners, or so she had been told, and this wasn't supposed to be out of the ordinary for him. Just another trip transporting prisoners to the Wall, where they would serve until death claimed them.
Children. The oldest was barely fourteen, a small fifteen at most - they had no way to know their real age, so it was just guesswork - the youngest was twelve or thirteen. They hadn't gotten a trial, just a sentence handed down by the regent, Lord Eddard. A life sentence seen as merciful. No one had cared about their lives except for Team RWBY. All that mattered for the people ruling Westeros was that they had committed a crime. If they knew what Blake had done…
She clenched her teeth, remembering other cages holding people, including children - Faunus held like animals in some working camps. She had helped free those, and now she was watching as a group of children was treated the same - shipped off to work until the end of their lives. And in a frozen wasteland like Solitas, even.
A cracking sound and the feeling of wood crumbling in her hand made her blink. Oh. She had crushed the wooden pole without realising it. She scowled as she let the upper part of the pole drop to the ground and shook the wooden splinters off her hand.
"Whoa! Don't bring the castle down, partner."
She turned to glare at Yang. "This is wrong."
"I know. So do Ruby and Weiss." Yang didn't shrug but calmly met Blake's eyes. "But no one knows what would be right."
Blake clenched her teeth again. Yang was right about that. They couldn't just let the children go - they were fanatically loyal to Varys. As long as Varys was kept in the dungeons, they would make another attempt to free him, and who could say what kind of plan a group of abused children trained as spies would come up with? And if - when - Varys was executed or killed? Blake had some idea how people who lost everything they lived for tended to react. More than one member of the White Fang had lashed out violently, without care whether or not those they killed were guilty or innocent, as long as other people suffered.
But sending the kids to the wall - and the Silent Sisters for the three girls amongst the group - wasn't right either. "They need help, not punishment," she said. Help Blake had failed to give to them.
"And who can help them?" Yang asked. She still didn't shrug. "The Wall seems actually the best thing they have here to turn criminals into upstanding citizens," she added with a snort - her partner knew as well as Blake herself how little that meant.
"So they turn from child spies into child soldiers." Blake didn't bother to hide the bitterness in her voice. It was a bit hypocritical - technically, she had been a child soldier herself. But that had been her decision. Mostly. None of those kids had volunteered for this.
"Better than assassins with a grudge against the kingdom," Yang said.
"You mean terrorists." Blake narrowed her eyes.
This time, Yang shrugged with a weak smile, and Blake huffed.
"I know it's not the same," she said.
"But it's too close anyway, right?" Yang reached out to pat her shoulder.
Blake let her. That would be answer enough. She turned to look at the wagons again, just as the last kid was pushed into the cage. Usually, a single member of the Night's Watch would handle such a transport, but Lord Eddard was sending a few guards from his House with them. People who wanted to return home to their families. That might help keep the kids from escaping and being hunted down as deserters.
The threat of execution wouldn't be enough; Blake knew better than most how little harsh punishment did to scare people into following the law, especially when they had nothing to lose and felt the law was unjust. It generally just made them more determined and desperate, and more violent, and…
Her thoughts were interrupted when Yang's hand slipped from her shoulder to her waist and pulled Blake into her side into a one-armed hug.
"Hey!" Blake protested. But she didn't push her partner away. She could use a hug.
*****
The Great Sept of Baelor, King's Landing, Crownlands, Westeros, 298 AC
"Yes, Lady Blake, we have instructed the Silent Sisters to take care of the girls. They will be treated well," the High Septon said. "And watched as well - we have passed on your concerns about their, ah, disposition."
Blake nodded. That, at least, was something. Not much - the order of the Silent Sisters lived an ascetic life and, as far as she could tell, didn't take part in the society of Westeros except for handling their dead. But at least, having taken vows of silence themselves, they should know how to work with mute children. "As long as they are kept away from the former queen." She didn't know whether the children would try to kill or free Cersei, but nothing good would come of that.
The High Septon winced. "Ah, yes. Cersei is not adjusting well to her new station in life."
Blake heard Yang, next to her, stifle a snort under her breath. Everyone who knew Cersei had expected that. "Is she under guard?"
The High Septon nodded. "It's not usually done - the Sisters are used to taking care of, ah, recalcitrant new members, but Cersei is a special case."
"And you have to worry about someone trying to take her away or kill her," Yang said.
"It's not the first time the order has had to deal with such a situation."
That was good. "And can they deal with the children's needs?" Blake asked. "They have been traumatised and indoctrinated."
"Many of the Sisters have suffered from tragedies and violence before joining," the High Septon said with a deep nod. "The children will be taken care of to the best of the Order's ability, my word on it."
That was probably the best she could expect. It wasn't enough, not nearly enough, but this wasn't home - this was Westeros. The locals knew not much about psychology. Though they must have a lot of experience with traumatised people, given the violence so common to their lives. Not unlike some of the stubborn villagers in Grimm-infested areas who clung to their homes through multiple deaths of neighbours and families.
"And the younger children?"
"They will be taken in by Septas and Septons with experience caring for orphans," the High Septon said. "Their unique circumstances have been explained to them, and as soon as we have set up homes for them, they can be moved in."
Blake wasn't sure if splitting up the kids was the best way to care for them - it was effectively removing them from what was their family - but if they were kept together, odds were they would end up a gang, united against everyone else. Again, not a good solution, but she didn't know a better one. "Did you hear about mute adults?" she asked.
The High Septon slowly shook his head. "No. We have sent ravens and put out the word, but, so far, none of the Faithful have sent word about such people. We've sent people to Essos, but news from there will take even longer to get back to us, I am afraid."
And since the people who had discovered the slavers behind the mutilated children had not found many mute adults, the odds that the child spies who had grown up were sent back to Essos weren't good, either. Varys might have sent them to another city so they wouldn't discover his slave trading partners, but Blake didn't think Varys would take the risk that his former 'little birds' might discover the truth behind their fates.
No, he most likely had them killed before they became a problem.
She nodded. "Thank you, High Septon."
"We are merely doing the Seven's bidding, my ladies," he replied with another deep bow of his head. "You deserve our thanks for having exposed all this so we could help."
Blake felt her cheeks flush a little. She hadn't done nearly enough, in her opinion.
"We do our best," Yang said with a wide smile.
"Indeed. I've heard about your work with young Gendry as well," the man went on. "He is visiting the Sept regularly to pray to the Smith in particular, and thank him for your help." He chuckled. "After hearing about the marvels he is working on, I have noticed many of the city's smiths visiting more frequently as well, hoping for a similar blessing from the Smith."
"Well, it's not as if we're trying to keep our knowledge hidden," Yang said. "I'm sure it will spread soon enough."
Blake held her tongue at that. She was quite certain that Master Mott would love to keep whatever knowledge he gained from Team RWBY as a trade secret. But Gendry probably didn't share that view - or was too naive to keep his secrets when other smiths approached him in the Sept.
Well, if more advanced techniques and ideas spread, it could only help this kingdom. The realm certainly needed all the help it could get.
*****
The Red Keep, King's Landing, Crownlands, Westeros, 298 AC
Yang Xiao Long looked out for crows as she entered the Kingsguard's training yard. Of course, as every day, there were half a dozen of them hanging around. They were smart birds, as smart as the crows back home. They knew that there would be some crumbs and morsels left over when the people training took their breaks and someone dropped a piece of food from slightly numbed fingers. Or was just a bit too tired to pay enough attention. Any of them could be a spy - if Melisandre was right and wasn't just trying to prank Weiss. Or was paranoid about birds or something.
She waved at them anyway. "Hey! Pay attention, will you? We're gonna put on a good show!"
As expected, none of the birds reacted to her. Others did, though.
"Did you talk to the crows, my lady?" Brienne asked.
"Yep!" Yang grinned. "They're smart birds."
"I see, my lady." Brienne smiled, but Yang could see she was just humouring her. Well, Yang was used to that - at least, unlike Yang's friends, Brienne didn't wince and complain when one of Yang's jokes might be a bit less than perfectly timed.
"Anyway!" Yang rolled her neck and stretched a bit. Damn, after all that mess with those kids and the politics and compromise stuff, she really needed to punch something. Repeatedly. And drag Blake into it as well - her partner needed that even more, Yang was sure. "How are you doing?"
"Quite well, my lady."
That was about as informative as Jon's 'I'm doing fine, my lady'. Yang raised her eyebrows at her. Brienne could do better than that!
Blushing a little, Brienne winced before smiling a little ruefully. "Well, we - I mean, Jon and I, were thinking about… Well, we talked to one of the Lannister squires, Lancel. The eldest son of Kevan Lannister, the oldest of Lord Tywin's younger brothers."
Yang nodded. She didn't really care for all that stuff, but it was important here. And Lancel was important. Not as important as Lord Tyrion, but pretty important. If anything happened to Lord Tyrion, he would probably be the next heir after his father. Unless Lord Tywin married some much younger wife and tried to get another heir or something - he wouldn't be the first noble here like that.
"And, well…" Brienne suddenly perked up and waved. "Jon! Come over!"
Ah. Yang grinned. So that was it. "Good morning, Jon."
"Good morning, my lady." He bowed, and Yang rolled her eyes with another snort.
"We were just talking about you," she said.
He blinked, obviously surprised, at that. "You were?"
"Brienne was about to tell me what you two came up with."
"My lady!" He actually frowned at Brienne before turning back to Yang. "It was just idle talk. We haven't decided on anything - not that we would make a decision, anyway. That is your prerogative, of course, my lady."
"Hm?" Yang looked at Brienne.
"I actually didn't tell Lady Yang yet about what we were talking about with Lancel," Brienne said, frowning back at Jon.
"Oh." He blushed. "I'm sorry, I thought…"
Yang shook her head. "As amusing as this is, out with it: What were you cooking up?"
"Cooking up?" Jon looked confused for a moment. "Ah, we were talking about, well… You are very important nobles, yet you lack a, well, a retinue." He glanced at Brienne again.
"You have no guards or men-at-arms, no sworn swords or knights," Brienne explained.
Yang wondered where they were going with this. Were they actually asking what she thought they were asking? Well, time to find out. "And you would like to change this, uh?" She smiled.
Both were blushing this time. "Well… We know you don't need protection in battle, or anywhere else, my lady," Jon said. "But you said yourself, you can't be everywhere at the same time. And you also said I have the markings of a decent swordsman." He hesitated a moment. "And, it might not be my place to say so, but you could use more people loyal to you above anyone else. Everyone else at court has their own retinue."
Brienne nodded. "I would swear myself to your service, my lady, if you'll have me. To Team Ruby, that is."
"So would I, my lady," Jon added.
Oh. That was a bit more than the 'we could help you if you need help with guarding someone' that Yang had been expecting.
"And Lancel would as well, in a heartbeat," Jon went on. "He said you - Team Ruby - saved his life during the Night of Flying Water. He is a Lannister, but we talked to him at length, and he would swear an oath."
"And there are more who would serve you, my lady," Brienne added. "If you'll let us."
"Gendry would help as well, though he'd need weapons training. He is very strong, though, and he knows how to wield a hammer very well, so…" Jon trailed off.
What could she say to this? She couldn't tell them no; Jon would be crushed and brood forever, and Brienne wouldn't do much better. And both were friends. Well, the answer was actually obvious, wasn't it?
Yang nodded. "I'll talk to Ruby about it. But I'd love to have you around." She spotted her sister and the others arriving and added: "After the training session, of course. That's not something to be discussed in the training yard where every crow can listen in."
The two chuckled at her joke, but one of the crows gave her the evil eye - well, it was probably eyeing Yang's snacks, which were safely stored in a sturdy basket with a wooden lid. No crow could get at them; they had tested that. There wouldn't be a repeat of the Great Cookies Tragedy.
She cracked her knuckles. "Now, let's get some training done." A few rounds with Ser Barristan, for starters. He still had some tricks to teach them, and his parries and counters, especially the wrestling moves he knew, were incredibly useful. And she would see if she could badger Weiss into using her glyphs to speed up a few arrows again to train dodging and deflecting them. Yang was getting better at that, but she could always improve some more.
Sure, her Semblance allowed her to tank hits and grow stronger in the process, but nothing was better to crush someone like, say, Cardin Winchester than winning a fight without being hit at all.
And that would make the surprise even better when they managed to hit you and only succeeded in making you hit back harder!
Yang grinned as she called out to Ser Barristan and stepped into the ring.