Chapter 77
The plan was finally coming along, as Jamie found himself reaching an accord with the pretenders across the Narrow Sea. And he did not care if they were Rhaegar's son or not, as long as he got his revenge.
But it was not so simple, for the boy was wed to his daughter. His and Cersei's only living child, and as much as Myrcella may loathe him, he could not let any harm come to her.
"So, you will spare the Queen?" Jamie confirmed, as he met with the man from Essos once more to finalise the deal.
"Aye," he replied as he showed his crooked teeth.
"You can have the Queen and her children, but the King must die," and that was fine.
Myrcella would understand. She would understand once she had learned the whole truth, that he was her father, that the boy had fooled her, and had made them into enemies when he was her biggest ally.
"No harm shall come to her," and the man nodded.
"Aye! As long as you give us the maps to the drains and the ductways," and that was the deal, as Jamie nodded.
"I will bring them to you in a day," he answered, and with his father gone, he would have little trouble asking the Maester for the map of the city drains and ducts, and with that, even if his father was to return, the Blackfyres could land their armies on the Westerlands' shores without any major fight.
"Then I shall see you tomorrow, Kingslayer," and even now, the moniker refused to leave his identity, as Jamie slid out of the brothel and headed back towards the castle, and he could not help but feel a sense of excitement, for revenge was near.
Cregan Stark had robbed him of everything. His honor. His cloak. His freedom.
And now, it was his turn to strike back. He would take everything from the boy, his crown, his family, and his life.
He reached the gates, pulled back the cloak, and looked at the guards.
"Open the gates," he ordered, and unlike before, he saw them hesitate for a few seconds, and he was rather lacking in patience at the moment as he screamed.
"Have you gone blind!" he shouted at them, as they made him wait.
"Open the bloody gates," and so they moved, and the gate was opened as Jamie strode into the Casterly Rock, and the castle had been carved into a mountain and was simply a series of tunnels and rooms carved into a hill, and the winding paths were so complex and dangerous that despite thousands years, no man had mapped them all.
But the more common paths were known to all, and as Jamie strode through the Halls, he felt more eyes upon himself than ever before, and he felt the servants tittering and whispering as he walked past them, towards his father's solar to get the plans for the sewers and ducts that his brother had built.
And as he opened the doors, he found the solar occupied by a familiar face, for there sat his wife, Alysanne Lefford, the daughter of Lord Lefford, with her dark brown hair and pumpkin colored eyes.
She was a beauty, but she paled in comparison to Cersei and her wit. Regardless, she had been dutiful enough for him, and he was certain that her family had been richly rewarded for her services in giving his father his heir.
"Alysanne," he called out as she looked up at him with a grief-stricken expression, and he felt his heart sink with dread at the sight, but couldn't fathom the cause of the dread at all.
"What are you doing in my solar?" he asked, and though she was not forbidden from entering it, she had never come here before.
"It is not yet your solar, my lord," she called out, and he realised that she was not alone, that behind him the two guards had followed him inside, along with two more that stood behind her.
"Why have you called so many guards?" he asked as he gazed at them all.
"Leave," he commanded, but they did not budge as his heart sank as he gazed at his wife once more and asked a bit forcefully.
"I ordered you to leave!" he shouted, but the men did not budge, as he gazed at Alysanne once more.
"What is going on! Why are the guards here?" he asked, and he saw her lips thin, as she looked him in the eye and apologised.
"I am sorry," and before he could ask for what, she gave a nod as Jamie gasped, as he was in the back, by the guards who then quickly pushed him to the ground, and began to tie his arms and legs.
"AGHH!"
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING!" he eeked out in fury, as his face was pushed onto the floor, but the men did not budge.
"Release me at once! I am your lord! RELEASE ME!" he ordered, yet they did not relent, as Jamie found his arms tied to his back, before they pulled him up as his lady wife stared down at him.
"YOU! YOU WHORE!" he screamed at her.
"Do you really think you can do this and suffer no consequences! My father..."
"..is the one who ordered this!" she finished his sentence as Jamie's heart sank, and the realization dawned on him.
"No," the words escaped his mouth as she bit her lip.
"I had prayed that it was all a lie. That it was a big misunderstanding, but I was wrong," and so he knew. His father knew of his treason.
"Where is he? Where is father?" he asked, for he had not heard even a whisper of his return.
"He is still in the capital, held captive by the King," and again, it was him. It was that bastard!
"You have to let me go, Alysanne! You have to," he begged as she stood in front of him, yet the guards did not let him budge.
"He killed her. He killed my sister. He made my own family betray me," and she shook her head.
"You are the one who betrayed your family, husband. You and you alone, and now you shall suffer for it,' and with that she looked at the guards as he could only scream.
"Take him away...."
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CREGAN STARK
Cregan was getting rather frustrated with the Lannister family and how they refused to learn their lesson. And it was only because of Myrcella and the Death Eaters that he had not had all of them put to the sword.
Because he had good reason to, Jamie had not just betrayed him; he had betrayed the entire realm, and he was well within his rights to put him and his entire family to the sword.
"I have half a mind to kill your brother," Cregan spoke to his new Hand, who sat opposite to him, having the same hair and eyes as the traitor who had tried to broker a deal with the pretenders in Essos.
"Along with your entire family," and that of course excluded him, and he knew that as he simply took another sip of his wine and answered with his usual jape.
"You would be doing the realm a favor," and he wouldn't really.
The Sun had set, and days had passed since the entire Lannister family had become 'unwilling guests' in the Red Keep, and only now did he feel some semblance of satisfaction as he received reports from the West about the arrest of Jamie Lannister.
His own wife, the Lady Alysanne Lefford, had confronted him and had put him in chains, and now the man was headed towards the capital along with that liaison from the pretenders.
"Still, you and I both know that you can't really kill my father," and loathed as he was to admit it, but Tyrion was right, for as much as he may hate Tywin Lannister, the man was as pragmatic and capable a lord could be.
He was a menace as an enemy, but even Cregan could feel that the man's patience with his wayward son had run out.
"Seven know I want to," Cregan whispered as he took a sip of his own wine, and the Dornish blend burnt his throat, as Tyrion chuckled.
"That makes two of us," but he couldn't kill him. Not when he faced so much uncertainty.
"You could take over Casterly Rock for him, then I would have no need to keep him alive," and Tyrion shook his head at the offer.
"You and I both know that I cannot step into those Halls again," and he did, for he had made a promise to someone to never set foot in those Halls ever again.
"Moreover, as big a bastard and a fool Jamie is and has been, his children are completely innocent in all this. I have no desire to take away their inheritance from them," and neither did he.
"Here, I have something that will cheer you up," and this whole affair with the Lannisters had soured his mood, for whenever such a conflict rose up, it always caused a rift between him and Myrcella.
"What is it?" he asked, and Tyrion reached into his pocket and took out a missive and tossed it towards him.
Cassius caught it thankfully and gave the little man a glance as his new Hand beckoned him to move on and open the thing.
"It came from Braavos, in the evening. I could hardly believe what I was reading, so I had my men ask around, and from the initial reports it seems like it is true," and now he was even more intrigued, for it was rare for him to receive missives from Braavos.
And the message had the official seal of the Iron Bank and the Sealord, which caught his eye as he put down his cup and carefully unfolded the letter, and it was addressed to him.
And as his eyes skimmed over its contents, his mood did indeed begin to improve, for this was a game-changer for him.
"Your gamble paid off," and including a member of the Iron Bank in the retinue of the Lord Paramounts, that day had been a gamble for he had no idea how he and the Key Holders would react to the emergence of the White Walkers. Still, if the threat of imminent death could turn them in his favor, then it would be a huge boon.
"They won't go to war for us, but they have outbid the Golden Company for all their ship contracts," and with that they had just halved the Blackfyre fleet, and the effect of this would be massive for with the men would soon follow, for that was an army built upon the promise of gold and victory.
The sell-swords owed Illyrio and Varys no loyalty, and with half their fleet gone, many would begin to waver and would break faith with them, causing them significant troubles.
"This is good," and Tyrion raised his cups.
"I told you this would cheer you up," and it had indeed, as he picked up his glass again, as he looked Tyrion in the eyes once more and wondered why exactly he had waited to show this to him.
"If the missive came in the evening, why did you wait until now to show it to me?" Cregan asked, as he asked his Hand about his intentions.
"Take a guess," and he had many.
"You wanted to know what my intentions were for your family," Cregan guessed, and saw those eyes dim as Tyrion looked at the floor as he played with his glass.
"As you said, they are my family," and Tyrion's relationship with them was as complicated as it could be. The man hated them, yet he could not stop himself from caring about them.
"If you wanted me to spare them, you could have just asked," and Tyrion sighed.
"And that is the sad part, my friend," and he drowned the entire cup in a massive gulp.
"I don't know what I really want...." and yet before he could say more, they both rose from their seats at once as screams and shouts filled the entire castle.
"AHHHHHH!" and it was the King who screamed at once.
"Guards!" he called out, as two men rushed into the room.
"Go and find out what is happening!"
.
.
.
And miles away in Essos, Illyrio and Varys raged in frustration as their fleet was hollowed out day after day, as more and more merchants and magisters all broke their contracts, until they had but half the ships.
"This is a disaster!" the Cheesemonger raged, as he paced in his manse, and his companions gathered together in his room.
"As of now, we do not have the ships needed to move our entire army to the shores of Westeros," Strickland, the Master of the Golden Company, informed him of the dire situation.
"Have you found out who is behind this?" he asked, turning towards the bald Spider, who nodded grimly.
"I did," and the room grew hopeful for once, but the next words sucked it out just as quickly.
"It is the Iron Bank," and though they were powerful, none here had the gold or the power to go against the Iron Bank.
"Are you certain?" the Cheesemonger asked, and Varys nodded.
"Aye, it is the Iron Bank," and that was a cause of concern, for if it was really the Iron Bank making a move against them, then this was just the beginning.
"Why?"
"I don't know yet, but it is no secret that the Iron Bank and the Iron Throne have long had a great relationship," yet it had never intervened in a war like this before.
"We cannot outbid the Iron Bank," Illyrio admitted, which meant that the ships and the merchants lost to them would not be coming back.
"So how will we get the ships needed?" asked the captain of the Golden Company, and the room drew silence at his question, for no one had an answer.
No one, until the Cheesmonger spoke up once again.
"There is one man who could help us," and everyone turned towards him at those words.
"Who?" Strickland asked, as Illyrio gazed at his old friend who did not need to hear the name, as he began to shake his head.
"NO! Not him...."
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