The dungeon lay deep beneath the Red Keep, so deep that Littlefinger did not dare think about it.
All he knew was that the walls were a pale red, veined with patches of saltpeter, and that there was a gray wooden door made of rough planks, nearly four feet thick.
He felt as though he had sunk into a suffocating darkness, much like the days at Riverrun, when he lay wounded by Brandon, writhing in pain on his sickbed.
Even so, Littlefinger remained calm. As long as Eddard stayed in King's Landing, as long as the situation here continued to shift, there would still be a chance for him.
"The conditions here are dreadful."
The voice was clear and crisp, but it was not a jailer. It was a woman.
"Your Grace…"
Torchlight flared, and Littlefinger's vision cleared. He recognized the face beneath the hood.
"I must apologize for receiving you in such a place." A smile still lingered on his lips. The conditions truly were miserable. The straw strewn across the floor reeked of urine. There were no windows, no bed. Without this single torch, he would be no different from a blind man.
"You seem to be in good spirits, Lord Petyr." The Queen studied that familiar, sly expression. Without him, the Small Council must have lost much of its liveliness. "Great Lord Renly was quite heartless. After all, the two of you were so close."
"When a storm comes, how many friends can a man truly rely on? I do not blame Lord Renly," Littlefinger replied.
"That brothel the Old Wolf visited, if I'm not mistaken, you know it well."
"To be honest, I am quite familiar with the madam. I once hoped to buy the place and run it myself, but she refused."
"Then you must have a good idea why the Old Wolf went there," the Queen said.
"I cannot say. Though I hear Lord Eddard has been searching all over King's Landing for the King's bastards. He is a very persistent man. What exactly he hopes to find, who can say?"
"In any case, your lead has caused quite the trouble. Jaime attacked the Starks, and both my brothers have now left King's Landing."
"By the Seven, that does sound lively."
"Good. It seems your wits are still intact," the Queen said, looking at him. "I cannot stay here long, but neither will you."
"I would gladly offer you my wit, if, and only if, Your Grace is willing to extend a helping hand."
"Hmph. You are a clever man. When it comes to counting coins, no one is better suited than you. Stark has underestimated me. I will make him understand that I am a man in a skirt."
"Your words move me deeply, Your Grace. In return for what Stark has done, I have something to tell you."
"What is it?" Cersei asked.
"Keep an eye on the docks. The Old Wolf may be looking for a ship back to Winterfell."
"Stark's greatest mistake was letting you live." The Queen looked at him, a cold smile on her lips.
"I intend to live well. After all, I still wish to see Lord Stark's long face once more."
The Queen turned and left, leaving behind an even deeper darkness.
I may need some time, she thought. Only then could everything be arranged properly. It no longer mattered how much Stark knew. What mattered was that he had already brushed against the truth, and that had to be dealt with quickly.
...
"King's Landing isn't welcoming us, Jon. I have to consider your safety. My captain of the guard is dead, and what is the king doing? He's taken me hunting in the Kingswood," Eddard said, his face lined with exhaustion.
"So, Lord, does that mean we still need to find the fastest ship?" Jon asked quietly.
"Yes. I want a ship to take the three of you away first. You'll take Sansa and Arya."
"And you, Lord?" Jon studied Eddard's face. He had never seen him look so worn.
"I'll remain here. My duty isn't finished."
"Forgive me for speaking plainly, Lord. Arya will accept your decision, but Sansa may not. She still dreams of becoming the queen. All the splendor of King's Landing—the grand court, the many nobles, the tournaments, the bards, the jesters. I fear she won't be willing to leave."
"Damn it… look what I've overlooked," Eddard muttered. "But what can I do? She's my daughter. I can only blame myself for sheltering her too well. King's Landing has already begun to bleed, and I don't think it's nearly enough."
"This matter… it can't be done without Sansa. I have to take her away."
"I'll go speak to Arya quietly first, Lord. If it comes to it, we may need to take stronger measures. You must not tell Sansa."
"Very well, my boy." Eddard looked at Jon, forced to admit there was sense in his concern.
"Joffrey is no prince from the songs. Sansa must not remain in King's Landing."
"True enough. He doesn't look like a king to me at all… more like a lion."
Eddard stared at Jon, his expression shifting. It was as if a sudden jolt had struck his mind. The answer… the answer to everything.
His body trembled slightly, but he forced himself to stay calm. This was it. The truth behind it all.
"Lord, I don't want to leave King's Landing. I want to stay with you."
"You're a good boy, Jon." Eddard looked at him, words rising to his lips but left unspoken. No… those absurd matters could wait.
"You're the only one I trust with this. With Littlefinger inside the Red Keep, we may still find a suitable ship at the docks. I must send you away at once."
"Lord, I…" Jon tried to continue, but Eddard cut him off.
"I have a guest. Wait here a moment."
...
A short while later, Eddard's steward ushered in a stranger—a mysterious visitor from the Riverlands.
"Lord Darry." Eddard looked at the travel-worn man before him, the lord of Darry.
He had never expected this man to arrive first. In the past, Darry had been a staunch supporter of the royal faction.
"My lord, this is a matter of great urgency. I ask that you inform the king so he may respond properly," Ser Raymun Darry said in a low voice. "Tywin's men have been ravaging the Riverlands—Sherrer Village, Mummer's Ford, and beyond. Killing, burning… there is no crime they have not committed."
Eddard listened to every word, his anger steadily rising.
"Are you certain they're Tywin's men?" Eddard asked.
"There's no mistake. You know Lord Tywin has always been cruel and ruthless. It's only natural that the bandit knights under his command would be the same," Ser Raymun Darry said with a sneer. "That hulking brute leading them is savage and vicious. It has to be The Mountain."
"Damn it," Eddard cursed under his breath. Ever since Catelyn had acted rashly, the Westerlands had become like a pile of dry tinder. Riverrun and Casterly Rock were both calling their vassals, each preparing for a great war. He wanted to put out the flames and stop the conflict, but it would not be easy.
"I will report this to His Grace. He will send someone to deal with it fairly," Eddard said after a moment of thought. "If The Mountain is to be sentenced to death, I will have to carry it out myself."
"My lord, I fear this matter won't be so simple," Ser Raymun said with a sigh. "Everyone knows the king is Lord Tywin's son-in-law, and The Mountain is Tywin's vicious hound."
"Even so, I still believe he must be severely punished," Eddard said earnestly, though doubt stirred within him. Robert had changed. He no longer felt like the man he once was.
"What is the situation in the Riverlands now?" Eddard asked.
"Ser Edmure is gathering forces at Riverrun, while sending Lord Clement Piper and Lord Vance to station troops outside the Golden Tooth. But after news of the massacre spread, Lord Edmure dispatched a small force to bring those responsible before the king. I was camped outside Riverrun at the time. By the time I returned to my lands, The Mountain and his hounds had already crossed the Red Fork and withdrawn back into the Lannister hills."
"And what is Ser Edmure doing now?"
"He's deploying troops to every manor and village within a day's ride of the border," Ser Raymun replied.
A sense of unease settled over Eddard. Edmure was devoted to protecting his people, but this approach was draining his mobile forces.
"My lord, I must warn you. King's Landing is not a good place," Ser Raymunsaid suddenly, his tone turning grave.
"What do you mean, Ser Raymun?" Eddard looked at him. Raymunhad always despised House Lannister. Three of his brothers had died fighting for Prince Rhaegar at the Battle of the Trident.
"You've seen those red cloaks, haven't you?" Raymunasked. "House Lannister's gold has corrupted nearly everyone. Few in this world can resist gold. Isn't that right, Lord Eddard? If you stay here, I fear your chances are slim."
"You and I have both sworn loyalty to the king and the law, Ser Raymun," Eddard said.
"You're right, Lord Eddard. The people of the Trident are all waiting for the king's justice. I only hope that justice does not fail them," Raymunsaid, meeting his gaze.
Eddard saw both hope and doubt in his eyes. If a king does not protect his people, those people will turn elsewhere. A great division would be inevitable.
"Are you still holding on to hopes of peace? Lord Eddard, you know better than I do what kind of man Lord Tywin is. Cold and ruthless, he has never treated the smallfolk as people. You seek compromise and peace, but is that even possible? Let go of that illusion. You would be better off staying far from King's Landing," Ser Raymunsaid sincerely. "You have no friends here, and no soldiers, Lord Eddard."
"I will remember your words," Eddard said, beginning to suspect there was more meaning behind them.
"You'd best remember them well, Lord Eddard. When you find yourself with no way out, don't forget the advice of this lord of the Trident. Either return to your Winterfell, or choose your allies wisely."