Chapter 144: Undercurrents Surging
The door to the Hand's office was pushed open without warning. The guards at the door had made no attempt to stop the intruder. Was it a lapse in vigilance, or a total loss of responsibility?
Eddard didn't have time to feel confusion or anger. The moment he looked up, he was so startled he bolted upright from his chair. "Your Grace! You... how are you back? I heard only this morning that you wouldn't arrive until tomorrow at the earliest."
"Don't remind me. I've been in the saddle all day. With this kind of rot happening in my own home, do you think I have the stomach to dawdle along the Kingsroad, hunting and chasing skirts while I travel?" Robert walked to the opposite side of the Hand's desk, pulling out a chair with a dark expression and dropping into it. "To get back in time, I didn't even deal with that mad bitch Lysa properly. I just kicked her back to Riverrun and hit the road."
"Your Grace, Lysa is involved in the death of Jon Arryn, after all. To handle it so... isn't it a bit hasty?"
"Enough! Barristan has already annoyed me to death with that; can you give it a rest?" Robert slammed his palm on the desk irritably. "If it were anyone else, fine, but she's your sister-in-law, Ned. What more do you want from me? Hang her? Or take her head and stick it on a spike outside the Red Keep? And what's... why don't you have a drop of wine in here?"
"I usually drink water when I'm thirsty. Alcohol dulls the mind." Ned sighed, pulling a pitcher from beneath the desk. He poured a cup and handed it to Robert before sitting back down. "It's not that I insist on a specific punishment for Lysa, but the attitude must be clear. Sending her back to her father's house without any repercussions? That is..."
"Seven Hells... I haven't tasted plain water in a decade!" Robert took the cup and drained it in one gulp. His throat still felt parched, but his palate revolted at the thought of more flavorless liquid, so he set the cup down. "Three children who carry my name are nearly someone else's. Do you think I'm in the mood to argue with you about the proper way to handle Lysa! Stop the nonsense and tell me: what is the truth behind the rumors flying through the city?"
"The ones spreading the rumors were several pimps and lookouts from a brothel formerly owned by Littlefinger. The one who gave the order was the owner himself, Petyr Baelish—the former Master of Coin who has already defected..."
"Spare me what was already in the letters. I want the results of the investigation!"
"The results?" Eddard Stark looked up, staring deeply at the King—a man who had been like a brother to him for nearly thirty years. He leaned back into his chair, crossing his arms. "Robert, what kind of results do you want?"
"What kind of results do I want?" Robert stared at Ned for a moment, his face flushing a deep crimson. "I want to know how much truth there is to the rumors. I want to know if Cersei has been doing the beast with two backs with Jaime, and if Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen are actually my children! Is that clear enough for you?"
"Clear enough. Regrettably, my answer is: I am not certain." Ned's expression remained grim. "I loathe the Kingslayer; I've never made a secret of it, as you well know. I urged you to send him to the Wall long ago. But even so, I will not lie against my conscience. All I can do now is... tell you what the investigation has uncovered. As for what it means and what to do next, that is for you to decide. Does that sound fair?"
Robert pursed his lips, his chest heaving violently. For a man, what could be more humiliating than having someone else investigate whether he had been cuckolded? Yet as King, he had to be cautious. This was a royal scandal; he couldn't simply shove the entire burden onto the Hand's shoulders.
Suppressing the urge to explode, Robert spoke: "Go on. I'm listening."
Ned looked at his old friend and noticed that Robert was currently in a very sober, rational state. It was a good sign; if he could have remained this way, the Seven Kingdoms might never have fallen into such disarray.
"The spreaders of the rumors were indeed caught. To ensure they weren't just fall guys thrown out by the two accused parties using their wealth and influence, I conducted a detailed investigation into the entire process, from their actions to their capture. I found that these men were not framed. However... their arrest involved the intervention of Tyrion Lannister." Ned took a small notebook from his drawer and flipped to a page to ensure he missed nothing. "Of course, that may mean nothing. If Tyrion feared his siblings' actions would implicate him and thus took an active role in chasing the rumors, it makes perfect sense. I won't speculate; I'm only stating the facts. You must judge the situation for yourself."
"Hmph. Keep going."
"That brings me to a confession I must make, Your Grace. While you were at Winterfell inviting me to serve as Hand, Catelyn and I received a secret letter from Lysa. It claimed that Jon Arryn had been murdered by the Lannisters. Looking back, that was likely also orchestrated by Littlefinger. It seems Petyr has been making quiet moves against the Lannisters for a long time." Ned continued, "In that light, it makes sense that he ordered his subordinates to distribute the notes before he fled. Analyzing it all together, my judgment is this: though his motives remain unclear, the rumor was indeed manufactured and spread by Littlefinger. On that point, there is no doubt."
This was somewhat good news. Robert nodded, his complexion improving slightly. "But finding the source of a rumor doesn't mean the rumor is entirely fictional; there is no causality there. I want facts that prove its truth or falsehood!"
How long had it been since Ned had heard Robert speak with such logic and order? He couldn't remember. It was tragic that it took a threat to his throne and legacy to make him use his brain. Ned shook those thoughts away and pressed on: "I thought the same. So—I proceeded with an investigation. And that is where I found the problem."
Robert's eyes widened instantly. "What problem?"
"There are too many Lannister men in King's Landing," Ned said, shaking his head. "If you don't count the City Watch, the Lannister guards outnumber those of House Stark and House Baratheon combined."
"The City Watch is effectively a Baratheon army, Ned." Robert frowned. "Those without gold cloaks owe fealty to House Baratheon of Storm's End, and those with them owe it to House Baratheon of King's Landing. Since the lands were split, they've slowly become two branches, but for now, they are still one family."
"Is that so? I have my doubts. The Commander of the Watch, Janos Slynt, is—from what I know—a man with an eye for gold who would do anything for a dragon..."
"I know what kind of man he is better than you do, Ned." Robert shook his head, interrupting him. "He's a scoundrel, but he is absolutely loyal to me. Everything he has, I gave him. As long as I'm not dead, he won't side with the Lannisters. Believe me on that. Yes, I spend my days drinking and whoring, but on matters concerning my life, my mind is perfectly clear!"
"Fine." Ned raised a hand to end the topic. "We won't pursue this. Let's assume that in a worst-case scenario—if something happens in the city—we can control the situation through force. Now, let us return to the search for the truth. The question remains: how do we find it?"
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