The damp sea wind swept over the high walls of King's Landing, carrying the salt stench of Blackwater Bay into the stone corridors of the Great Sept. Aldric leaned against the windowsill, his fingers absently tracing the Golden Dawn crest engraved on the sword at his hip. Beyond the harbor, masts crowded the sky like a forest, the sails of merchant ships and war vessels blending into gray-blue waves in the fading light.
The great affairs of state are war and sacrifice. The old saying from his homeland echoed in his mind.
He gazed at the streets below, coiling through the city like serpents. The spires of the Faith's septs pierced the leaden clouds like swords thrust at the sky.
For three hundred years, the dragons of House Targaryen had ruled the skies, yet they had never truly unified this land. In the years after the Conquest, the Targaryens had not used their power to unify the realm's systems, governance, or ideology. It was not that successive kings lacked the desire—they simply lacked the knowledge and vision to know where to begin.
The dragons themselves, which could have been instruments of unification, were instead consumed in civil wars. By the time of Aerys II, his power had dwindled so far that he lived in constant terror before his own lords, consumed by paranoid delusions. In the end, he lost both his kingdom and his life.
If even a single dragon had survived. If House Targaryen had centralized power while their dragons still ruled the sky—how many men named Robert would have dared to rebel?
Now the dragons were gone. Westeros was ruled by mortal lords, military power scattered among a hundred houses in an unstable equilibrium. Every succession, every shift in interest, eventually became war or armed conflict, great or small.
Peace remained an impossible dream for the people of the Seven Kingdoms.
But Westeros had one advantage. Though war was scattered and fragile, sacrifice was unified. Every septon of the Faith, no matter how much they resented the Church's corruption, still recognized the High Septon as their leader. That was why Aldric had been willing to work with the lower clergy from the beginning. If he waited until he had conquered the Seven Kingdoms with his own army before marching north to face the Others, the White Walkers would already be at Riverrun.
By then, when Naaru Omu sent a message asking what exactly he had protected here, he would not know how to answer.
Now, including his own Order of the Golden Dawn, the Church's armed forces numbered five thousand—disciplined, fanatical, and ready to sit at the table of the game of thrones. But compared to the regional lords, they were still lacking. The Church still lacked two essential powers: the right of judgment and the right to tax their own lands.
The right to tax could only be exercised within one's own domain. The Church had no territory of its own yet, relying on trade revenue instead.
That was why Aldric had come to King's Landing. He intended to ask the High Sparrow to use the Church's influence to endorse the goods produced at the Gods Eye, so they could circulate freely throughout the Seven Kingdoms.
Judicial power—the power to punish—was the most direct response to those who broke social order. It was one of the most important powers a lord possessed.
An emperor named Reinhard from the Galactic Empire had once said that fair judgment and fair taxation were the most basic expectations the people had of their rulers. If a ruler could manage those two things, he could be considered competent.
After more than a year of governing his own territory, Aldric had come to understand and agree with that sentiment. That was why he was willing to support the High Septon's efforts to restore the Church's judicial authority.
"So," Aldric asked, "what do you plan to do with Queen Margaery and her cousin, and with Cersei?"
"I haven't decided yet." The High Septon shook his head, his clouded eyes full of worry. "It doesn't depend on me. After Cersei was arrested, the Hand she appointed, Orton Merryweather, fled with his Myrish wife. The master of ships she appointed fled with the fleet. Ser Jaime Lannister is in the Riverlands, no immediate threat. But Randyll Tarly's thousands are camped outside the city, and Mace Tyrell has lifted the siege of Storm's End and is marching back to King's Landing. I believe his thirty thousand men are already on the road."
"Three thousand from Lord Tarly, plus thirty thousand from Lord Tyrell—that's thirty-three thousand. I only brought two thousand." Aldric frowned at the disparity. "High Septon, we must handle Margaery very carefully."
The old septon nodded. "Naturally. But let's see how they play their hand first."
"A trial is based on facts and evidence, or trial by combat. The facts are clear. Margaery is no longer a maiden. But have you interrogated who she committed adultery with?"
"Ten men have been accused of adultery with Queen Margaery. Ser Tallad the Tall, Jalabhar Xho, Hamish the Harper, Hugh Clifton, Mark Mullendore, Bayard Norcross, Lambert Turnberry, Horas Redwyne, Hobber Redwyne, and a commoner who calls himself the Blue Bard, a certain Wat. But aside from Osney Kettleblack, who confessed to me, and that fool boy who calls himself the Blue Bard, the others are still in the Red Keep's dungeons. They had not been handed over to me when Queen Cersei came to me. I only had one chance to arrest her. I had no other choice."
Aldric fell into thought. Adultery was a troublesome charge. Without catching someone in the act, it was difficult to gather evidence for a conviction. Confessions alone were often extracted under torture, and once the accused had backing, they could easily recant.
There was only one way to secure a real victory: trial by combat. Fortunately, with him here, there was little to fear. Aside from the pirate he had encountered raiding the North, Aldric had yet to meet a mortal who could stand against him.
Especially now that the Light had returned to him.
The only question was whether to let Margaery win.
When he raised this question to the High Septon, the old man frowned in thought for a moment, then said, "Queen Margaery has a good reputation among the common people. She has given some aid to the refugee camps. If she were not a queen, I would rather hear her confession and forgive her in the name of the gods. Let the gods decide her fate."
Aldric tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair. After a moment, he said, "The Reach suffered almost no losses in the War of the Five Kings, and their armies committed few crimes in the Riverlands. By any measure, the Golden Dawn has no reason to confront them now. But I hope to break the alliance between the Reach and the Westerlands. Otherwise, the Church's new principles will face resistance in the Riverlands."
After House Tully's fall, their lands and those of their followers had been divided between House Frey and House Lannister.
The Golden Dawn's influence in the Riverlands had already pushed westward to Lord Vance's territory. To advance further, the greatest obstacle was House Frey, and House Frey was allied with House Lannister.
If the Golden Dawn came to blows with House Frey, the Lannisters would inevitably be drawn in.
If the Lannisters were drawn in, the Iron Throne's stance would be clear, and House Tyrell could not remain neutral.
That would mean the Golden Dawn facing the entire Seven Kingdoms. Not an easy task.
"High Septon," Aldric leaned forward, his eyes eager, "if the Church wins this trial by combat, could we use that as grounds to annul the marriage between King Tommen and Margaery?"
The High Septon considered this, then shook his head slightly, a troubled expression on his face. "The king and queen's wedding was held under the witness of the gods. Only the Church has the authority to annul it. But... this marriage is House Tyrell's greatest prize in this war. It is more important to them than all the castles in the Stormlands and the foster children without parents. I doubt they will give it up easily. Even if I annul the marriage, House Tyrell will simply put forward another candidate for queen, and then they will turn their hatred on the Church."
Aldric understood. The High Septon did not necessarily want Margaery convicted. What mattered was that the trial itself was conducted under the Church's authority. The outcome was secondary.
"Then," Aldric suggested, "let Queen Margaery win. Let Queen Cersei lose. Sell House Tyrell a favor. Weaken House Lannister's voice. Let their alliance dissolve through internal conflict. What do you think?"
A hint of excitement crept into his voice, as if he could already see the power structure reshuffling.
It was no secret among the high lords that Osney Kettleblack had accused the young queen at Queen Cersei's instigation. Theodore Wells had told Aldric as much on the road here. After the trial, the young queen would be proven innocent, and her mother-in-law would be convicted of adultery. Just thinking about it, Aldric could script an eighty-episode family drama.
Poor little King Tommen, caught between them.
The High Septon looked at Aldric with a searching gaze. "Lightbringer, it seems trial by combat holds very little authority in your eyes."
Aldric smiled. "Isn't this system of judgment, which can be manipulated by the strong, one of the things we want to overthrow?"
"That does not stop you from using it to achieve your own goals."
"No. Until we can end this system entirely, letting it serve us is not a bad thing."
In a world with a technological level equivalent to Earth's Middle Ages, even if Aldric lived another hundred years, he could not build a surveillance camera.
Relying on physical evidence to convict criminals was extremely difficult. That was the root of why trial by combat had emerged and been accepted in Westeros.
When judgment had already been rendered in the hearts of men, trial by combat was merely a way to give everyone an acceptable reason.
After all, the lords who passed judgment were the same men who had read fewer books than they had used rolls of toilet paper. Expecting them to convict based on subtle clues was too much to ask.
When he had captured the raiders in the North, Aldric had used the Solar Knights' power of "Confession" to make the wildling raiders confess their crimes.
But that could only be used to interrogate prisoners or suspects, not as the basis for a conviction.
If confessions obtained through magic could be used to convict ordinary people, how was that different from lords extracting confessions through torture?
The most important purpose of a trial was not to punish the accused, but to deter all potential criminals with similar intentions, to tell them that every crime would be punished.
The final judgment had to be accepted by everyone. A confession obtained through magic could not achieve that—at least, that was what Aldric believed.
That was why he had never used that method again.
The High Septon weighed Aldric's proposal for a long time, his eyes full of conflict and hesitation. Finally, he nodded, his voice firm. "The Church will deliver the judgment. How the relationship between House Lannister and House Tyrell develops afterward is beyond our control. But I will do my utmost to increase the Church's influence in King's Landing, so that you may act more freely in the Riverlands."
Having settled the trial's aftermath, the High Septon relaxed. A kind smile spread across his face. "How is Brother John? Managing such a large territory alone—does he complain of the hardship?"
"He manages well enough. I've recruited many wandering brothers to help him. The name 'Rainbow John' carries some weight in our lands." Aldric smiled in return.
Then he relaxed as well, and began to speak of the various things that had happened while governing the Riverlands. The High Septon listened with wonder, his face full of curiosity and admiration.
When Aldric mentioned Elder Perry of Saltpans, the High Sparrow's eyes lit up, a look of nostalgia crossing his face. "I know Elder Perry. I was close with his old prior. He was once a knight, with a fine record of victories, though he was somewhat dissolute in his youth. But after his conversion, he reformed completely. The gods blessed him with the gift of healing. Truth be told, before I awakened the Light, I could not match him in treating wounds and illness."
"Elder Perry is strong and straightforward. He loves and hates clearly. I think he would be more suited to becoming a Solar Knight than a brother of the Light. But I have urged him several times, and he has not agreed." Aldric sighed, a hint of regret in his voice.
"It is no matter. I will write him a letter, urging him in the name of the Church." The High Sparrow smiled reassuringly, his eyes warm.
"Your Holiness!" A young brother suddenly pushed open the door to the meeting room, his face pale and anxious. "Lord Randyll Tarly, Lord Swyft, Maester Pycelle, and Lord Loras—they are here! They demand an audience!"
Aldric's hand shot to his sword hilt. His body tensed, his eyes alert, as he sat up straight like a man facing an enemy. But the High Septon rose slowly, unhurriedly adjusting his gray robes. His eyes sharpened, steady and calm, a composed expression on his face.
"What must come has come. Lightbringer, come with me to meet these honored guests. Remember—no matter what they say, do not show your emotions easily."
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