Outside the windows, the blue sky was beautiful, and drifting clouds floated among the mountains. Angry lords, a young warrior, and their retainers had all gathered in the garden, listening to the wails of Lysa, that madwoman, a deranged, fat, and foolish woman.
"Please forgive me, Jon. It was you. You wanted to take Sweetrobin away from me. It was you. You never loved me. You only loved your former wife, and you only wanted my father's soldiers." The guards in sky-blue cloaks held up the raving former Regent Lady. She seemed badly frightened by the ghost of Jon Arryn. Under such heavy pressure, she was frighteningly easy to break.
Great Lord Jon's white falcon circled above the garden. The captain of the guards, Vardis, silver-haired, sturdy, wearing a sky-blue cloak and breastplate marked with the crescent falcon, held the Hand of the King's falcon sword with fury in his eyes, ready to draw at any moment. The guards in sky-blue cloaks were cold as frost, as if Jon Arryn had returned to life with sword in hand.
The falcon in the air grew tired and flew straight to Gendry's shoulder, surveying the crowd. Gendry looked at the beautiful snow-white falcon. The eagle seemed almost to have a spirit of its own.
"The eagle has shown a sign. Lord Jon's spirit in the heavens is pleased," Ser Vardis said in wonder.
"The eagle has shown a sign!" the lords cried.
Gendry felt it was only coincidence. The falcon had been a gift from King Robert to Lord Jon, but Lord Jon had rarely hunted and had been more familiar with the king. After all, the falcon had found him, the tallest black-haired knight in the crowd. Yet it looked like a miracle, and it made justice seem even clearer.
"May your spirit in the heavens protect us, Lord Jon." With the falcon on his shoulder, Gendry looked at Lysa, that pitiful woman, and that madwoman. Today in The Eyrie, he had come to accomplish only two things: the trial, and what came after.
Everyone had heard clearly. Lysa's crimes were grave and beyond dispute. First, she had put the Tears into wine and poisoned Jon, the Hand of the King. Second, she had fabricated facts, written to lure the Starks into the game, and stirred up civil strife. Third, she had used Sweetsleep Flower to harm the young child, Great Lord Robert. Fourth, she had colluded with Littlefinger, disgraced House Arryn's honor, and freely given away Lord Arryn's belongings.
"Enough. Lysa has said more than enough, and in detail. Shut her mouth." Gendry looked at the mad, pitiful woman. She was like Littlefinger's puppet on strings, and in her panic, every truth had become clear.
A padded cloth was stuffed into Lysa's mouth again. The guards in sky-blue cloaks glared viciously at the foolish woman, the murderer of the former Hand of the King. Scabbards struck her body hard. Stripped of Lady Arryn's halo, what did she have left?
"Maester Colemon, have you recorded everything this murderer confessed?"
"Clearly and without error, Prince." Maester Colemon nodded, holding his parchment. Maester Colemon had cleared himself well enough and saved his life.
"There was also Ser Hugh. He knew something as well," Captain Vardis said. "He was once Great Lord Jon's squire. After the Great Lord died, he became a knight, and then died in Lord Eddard's tourney, killed by the Mountain."
"I kept watch when he died, together with Lord Eddard," Ser Barristan Selmy said. "At that time, Lord Eddard had already begun investigating these matters. That boy wanted too badly to rise in the world, yet he was not prepared, and it cost him his life. Looking back now, it seems he was silenced. Poor boy."
"He did not poison Lord Arryn. I think Hugh must have taken someone else's money. After all, advancement and training as a knight cost a great deal, and far too many people wanted to know Lord Jon's movements," Ser Brynden said.
"At the time, Lysa ordered all of us back to The Eyrie. Only that boy refused to leave. I never imagined he would die at the Mountain's hands. He had not even married." Ser Vardis sighed as well.
Perhaps the squire had not been a spy for only one side, but had taken gold dragons from the Lannisters, Littlefinger, and Varys alike. That was why he had died fastest.
In the garden of The Eyrie, the "Petyr Plot" had been exposed in full. It was a treason case centered on Petyr, the Master of Coin, with Lysa as his tool. Petyr's scheming was indeed deep, but Gendry and the others had seized Lysa with thunderous force. With the evidence of the Sweetsleep Flower and the testimony of Captain Vardis, Maester Colemon, and others, there was no chance of overturning it.
The true eagle was House Arryn, not a fox borrowing the tiger's might like Littlefinger.
"Next comes you, Littlefinger." Gendry admitted that Petyr truly had many talents, yet he was ruthless as well. Petyr had used gold, affection, and poison to build his career. He not only understood finance and business, and knew how to appear friendly to others, but in secret, he also seemed quite skilled with poisons.
Yet his career was doomed. Littlefinger had no warrior's spirit, no heir, and no soldiers or kin to rely on. He merely deceived widows and orphans in the Vale, taking advantage of the Vale lords' stiff traditionalism, with few willing to overturn the table. But power was power. When the only players left at Westeros's table were violent and iron-blooded men, how long could Littlefinger's game continue? He would not even dare leave the Vale.
Now that the truth had come to light, the first great matter began to unfold: the trial of Lysa and the others.
"The power to judge criminals belongs to the King, Prince, and you are the King's heir. Lord Jon was once the King's foster father, and Lord Eddard and the King both lived in The Eyrie. The friendship of eagle, wolf, stag, and fish must not be buried. Lord Jon's blood must not have flowed in vain." Ser Vardis knelt on one knee before Gendry. "If not for you uncovering the truth, we would still be in the dark, deceived by that wicked woman."
"Please, please sentence her to death, but let her die. Do not dishonor her." Ser Brynden spoke in pain. The shy girl from Riverrun whom he had once known had grown into a woman sometimes arrogant, sometimes fearful, sometimes cruel, sometimes unreal and impractical, careless, cowardly, and vain. Worst of all, she was changeable.
"Ser Brynden, she murdered the Great Lord. She is the killer," said Lord Nestor, thick-bodied and clumsy.
"Exactly." Captain Vardis nodded as well. "Her crime cannot be forgiven. And that Littlefinger deserves to be stabbed to death alive."
"And the Lannisters have their share too. That bearded old maester Pycelle was the one who brought the lions into King's Landing back then, persuaded the Mad King to open the gates, and let the lions bloody the city," Lyn Corbray reminded them.
Once this scandal was exposed, then besides Littlefinger, the Lannisters would also be passively dragged into it.
"That is right. All the more reason we cannot forgive the Lannister criminals or that wicked old man," Ser Vardis said through gritted teeth.
Some lords of the Vale were conservative and poor, but they were also among those who valued honor most. Besides, House Arryn was an ancient royal line. If not for that, with Lysa's way of ruling, any other land would have been in an uproar long ago.
Without the Arryn name, who would give this mad, foolish woman a second glance?
"My lords." Gendry sheathed his long blade, his steel-like voice ringing clear and loud. Every guest in the garden stood silent and still, listening.
"Lysa refused us bread and salt, and she meant to kill us. She laid a drawn sword across her knees and threw me a guest gift in advance. But before I pronounce the death sentence, I will give Lysa a gift of my own. The Kingslayer's hand has already been cut off by me, and the title of Warden of the East should always have belonged to Great Lord Robert."
The lords of the Vale all showed satisfaction. Though everyone knew the title of Warden of the East was hollow in practice, given the present situation. Could the child lead an army himself? Would the lords not simply do as they pleased? Still, it was a hereditary title and an honor.
"Before the Old Gods, the New, and all men, I, Gendry, lawful heir of the late King Robert, protector and betrothed of Daenerys, sole Lord Governor of the Twin Cities and the Stepstones, sentence Lysa of The Eyrie, Petyr of King's Landing, Pycelle, and all others involved in Petyr's conspiracy to death for murder, treason, harming a child, and inciting civil strife. I strip them of all honors, titles, and property."
"The execution will be at the Moon Door," Captain Vardis said.
"The lords should be told clearly of those two people's crimes," Lord Nestor said. "The lords of the Vale can give their loyalty, especially with Littlefinger involved." Though Nestor was broad and fat, his mind was clear. After all, he was an important man in the Vale, and Lord Arryn had always trusted him.
"Take her away. This woman's crimes should wake the world," Gendry ordered.
"As you command." Ser Vardis obeyed his order. These men seemed born to serve as his officials. Where the mountains rose, men became peaks, and the one with power was the highest peak of all.
"At least she can live a few more days, then," Lyn muttered.
"Find her a small room and keep her under strict guard," Captain Vardis said in disgust.
The blue-cloaks directly dragged Lysa away. The madwoman wailed and struggled, while the watching crowd glared resentfully at the plump, deranged woman.
After Lysa was taken away, everyone waited for Gendry's next command like stars gathered around the moon.
"Prince, my lords, there is still the most treacherous villain of all, Littlefinger, hiding in the shadows. He is still in King's Landing," Ser Vardis suggested. "I advised Lord Arryn long ago to send him away, or at least keep him far from here."
"He only hides in King's Landing. His roots are in Gulltown," Ser Lyn snorted. "Everyone knows that."
"The rotten little court in King's Landing cannot protect him. In the Vale, we must first tear out his dependents," Bronze Yohn said, full of killing intent.
"And his property," old Lord Hunter added. "He has stored no small amount of money in Gulltown. With the treasury losing coin day after day, who can say how much Lord Littlefinger has embezzled?"
"I will write a letter to Lord Grafton. He knows what to do, whether with Gulltown's money or Littlefinger's men," Gendry said. Violence was the final card, and also the most effective one. Littlefinger's so-called allies, Grafton and House Arryn of Gulltown, were both nobles and wealthy men. Though they were allies, they were also practiced at shifting with the wind.
"My lords, regarding Littlefinger." Gendry spoke to everyone. Every word from him carried the weight of steel, and the Vale lords listened carefully. "Littlefinger is a great traitor disguised as a loyal man. Even Lord Arryn and the late King were deceived by him, much less the rest of you. Before today, Littlefinger was Master of Coin and Lord Arryn's retainer. If anyone had dealings with him, accepted favors from him, or borrowed money from him, most of that was ordinary business. Unless it involved the poisoning of Lord Jon or the late King, the past will not be pursued. Debts issued in Littlefinger's own name may also be wiped clean. But from today onward, if anyone remains entangled with Littlefinger, my sword will show no mercy."
"My lord is wise."
"You are wise, Prince."
Hearing this decision, the lords and knights of the Vale visibly relaxed and began praising him. If he had truly meant to investigate every connection, which noble in the Vale had never gone to Littlefinger for money?
But few were terrifying and mad enough to murder a Great Lord. Littlefinger would not have trusted these noble lords with that either.
"Did you hear that, my lords? Prince Gendry will not pursue the past, and debts issued personally by Littlefinger are void. But from this day on, if anyone colludes with Littlefinger or is involved in poisoning Lord Arryn, my lady is thirsty. Once she leaves her sheath, she will not stop until she has tasted blood." Lyn patted Lady Forlorn. In truth, he himself had borrowed quite a lot of Littlefinger's gold. As the most dangerous swordsman in the Vale, how could Littlefinger not have tried to buy him?
Gendry had no need to implicate everyone. Politics required both leniency and severity. He had naturally noticed the expressions on the Vale men's faces, and now he had given them reassurance. He would be lenient toward the lords and nobles, but Littlefinger's customs men and wealthy merchants in Gulltown deserved a heavy hand. He had an inside line there; Grafton had a list.
"Maester Colemon." Gendry called over the pitiful-looking maester. "You should know the pattern of Lady Lysa's letters to King's Landing, and how they are delivered."
"I do." Colemon nodded. "In the most recent letters, the Lady was complaining about the lords of the Vale..."
"Maester, imitate Lysa's hand and write to lure that bastard here. Or Lysa can write it herself," Ser Vardis, the captain of the guards, said.
"Yes."
"There is no need to write too much. There is a pattern to these things." Gendry looked at Maester Colemon. "Just write naturally. He will not fail to reply."
Littlefinger's eyes and ears were too many and too dense, but the Vale was his foundation. He needed to write letters, and sometimes return by ship. If he was outside his field of vision, he would be very easy to deceive.
"Yes." Maester Colemon looked at the crowd. The dangerous sword had already been drawn.
"Maester, your life is spared only because you did your best to save the old lord," Ser Lyn said, glaring viciously at Colemon.
Maester Colemon smelled killing and danger, and he was only a pitiful maester.
"Take good care of the Warden of the East, Great Lord Robert, and cooperate with us. As for caring for children, tell me what experience you have," Gendry said to Colemon.
...