Ned Stark Lives! Part 2

by cbstevp

What would have happened in Westeros if Ned Stark had lived? The story continues, taking us to the Wall, Slaver's Bay, and of course the war between Stannis and the Lannisters. But winter has come, the Others are at the Wall, and the feared long night of myth is about to engulf Westeros and maybe even the whole world.

3. Chapter 3 Varys

Ned Stark Lives! Part 2 Chapter 3 – Varys

Life on the pole boat Shy Maid was nowhere near as comfortable as Illyrio's manse in Pentos, Lord Varys thought for the umpteenth time as the boat slowly made its way downriver to Volantis. The food was nowhere near as grand as the multi-course banquets Illyrio insisted on having day and night. The bed of flour sacks he slept on that were placed on the deck were so uncomfortable Varys feared his back would never be straight again. Worst of all, the man who led the boat and its crew was taciturn and suspicious, especially after he saw Varys again after so many years.

"You!" exiled Lord Jon Connington had almost shouted when Varys climbed off his horse by the riverside near the Shy Maid after the long journey from Pentos on the old Valyrian road. A knight named Ser Rolly Duckfield and a chainless maester named Haldon had accompanied him the rest of the way to the upper tributary of the great Rhoyne River after meeting Illyrio and Varys on the road. They had traveled slowly and in some comfort from Pentos, but after he met the knight and maester the pace picked up and few comforts were to be found.

His stay in Pentos had lasted almost a month and while there Varys did not remain idle. He still had little birds this side of the Narrow Sea and Illyrio also had many friends and informers. Together they wove a web of intelligence gathering over the port city, just like when they were young men taking their first steps toward greatness. Gold and silver paid for it all. There was no lack of coin and Illyrio was as generous as he had always been since his great wealth began to grow and grow.

Varys questioned many ships' captains who had come from Westeros, picking their brains for news of the war. He heard how the Starks had returned to Winterfell to find it set afire by ironmen raiders, how Theon Greyjoy had escaped their justice, and how his uncle Euron Crow's Eye had returned to the Iron Islands to claim his dead brother's Seastone Chair. Other stories were told of how the Lannisters had retreated from King's Landing after failing to take the city again and after the Iron Fleet had attacked Lannisport. He heard that Tyrion Lannister was now Hand for King Tommen once again, and how the other king, Stannis, sat brooding on the Iron Throne trying to decide his next move. From one ship in particular came strange news, news received the day before Varys finally set forth on his journey to meet the Shy Maid. From a Braavosi ship that had traded at Eastwatch on the Sea Varys learned of strange events at the Wall, about an attack by wildlings and there was even word of the Others arising again from the snow and ice.

More news came from the east. Varys questioned a few captains who had sailed the long dangerous route from Qarth and Slaver's Bay. The stories about Daenerys Targaryen were true it seemed. She had come out of the Red Waste with a few Dothraki followers and a Westerosi knight who had to be Ser Jorah Mormont. Her dragons were real and one sailor who had been to Qarth swore to the Seven, the old gods, and then every god in the world that he had seen the three dragons himself. They were but babes yet, but Varys knew if they survived they would grow into fearsome creatures. Then came word that Daenerys had left Qarth and landed in Slaver's Bay at Astapor. She acquired an army of Unsullied warriors, attracted some sellsword companies to her cause, and went on the attack in Slaver's Bay. She sacked Astapor, then took Yunkai, and finally overwhelmed Meereen. She was smashing the slave trade and as more of this news filtered in Illyrio had grown despondent.

"This was not as we planned," he said to Varys one night while they dined. "Many and more depend on the slave trade."

"Including you?" Varys asked, already knowing it was true. He had been a slave himself as a boy, but he felt no anger towards Illyrio for they had been through too much together.

"A small part of my doings, I assure you," Illyrio told him, a bit reluctantly. "But this will anger those in Volantis and elsewhere. They will rise up and strike her down. She was supposed to head west, not conquer the east. I sent Ser Barristan and three ships to bring her here. What ever possessed her to do such folly?"

"She is not the trembling girl you and her brother gave to Khal Drogo," Varys reminded his friend. "She is becoming the queen she was meant to be."

Illyrio smiled, a bit wanly, Varys thought. "Just so. There is naught we can do about it except support her. At least she is gathering an army about her. Hopefully she will soon march west to join Connington and the prince and the Golden Company. Then all will be ready for the return to the west."

As he said this not for the first time Varys wondered how Daenerys would take the news that another Targaryen heir lived, one with a stronger claim to the Iron Throne than hers. In Illyrio's grand scheme they had wisely kept the two separated, never telling Viserys or his sister that Aegon still lived, in hopes that at least one of the three would live to adulthood and be ready to re-claim the Iron Throne for their family. What would Viserys have done if he knew his nephew still lived? If he knew that Illyrio had plans for the boy Aegon to marry his aunt, renewing a Targaryen tradition of old? What would Daenerys have done? What would she do now?

What troubled Varys was that this Targaryen princess had already been wed, to a strong horse lord. When he died she had led those still loyal to her out of the Red Waste. She had raised an army, had sacked cities, had smashed the slave trade. Would she even accept Aegon or see him as another obstacle to the Iron Throne? Would she even believe he was of her blood or a pretender?

Cries of pretender would plague Aegon's attempts to take Westeros unless he had some legitimacy to his claim. All believed he was dead. Many knew his aunt was not, and rumors were filtering west of her and her dragons. Marrying Daenerys would make Aegon seem more Targaryen, strengthening his claim. If she would have him. But the answer to that question would have to wait until Varys reached Volantis and hopefully Daenerys.

Before he left Pentos from Illyrio Varys had learned all he could about exiled Lord Jon Connington and Prince Aegon and their companions. He already knew much of this, having played a crucial part of the near sixteen year conspiracy to save Aegon and raise him to be a king. Now on the banks of the river Varys saw the boy again after so many years, standing on the deck of the pole boat, looking at Varys with curiosity. He was tall and lanky, comely like his father, but a bit darker, with more than a drop of his mother's Dornish blood. His almost silver hair was now dyed purple in the manner of Tyrosh, and it helped to deflect an observer from noticing his eyes, which now seemed dark blue, and then slightly purple, depending on the light.

Jon Connington had the same blue hair, but some red roots of his true coloring were showing and he still had red eyebrows. Varys knew they were passing as father and son, humble merchants who owned a pole boat and plied the trade routes of the Rhoyne. It had not always been so. The first five years of his life Aegon had lived under close guard at Illyrio's manse in Pentos. Few people except some wet nurses and Illyrio's servants and guards saw him.

Then when he was beginning to talk and walk Illyrio came in contact with Jon Connington, the former Hand of King Aerys who had been exiled by the Mad King when he had failed to stop Robert Baratheon at the Battle of the Bells. Connington was selling his sword and living one day to the next, and there were even rumors he was dead. He wasn't but he might as just as well be dead. He was a broken man. His best friend had been Rhaegar Targaryen. Once when in his cups Connington had told Varys that when he heard the news of the Trident and that his best friend was dead he had wept and cursed Robert and Mad Aerys and the gods.

Illyrio and Varys gave him a reprieve from his downward spiral in life. Illyrio's agents contacted him, promised him riches if he would come to Pentos to serve Illyrio as captain of his guards. He was mistrustful, wary, but a bag full of Illyrio's promised riches did the trick and Connington came. When he arrived he found Varys there and he almost killed him since Varys now served the Usurper. But he stayed his hand and they explained all and introduced him to Aegon, who was near three at the time. Connington called them madmen and liars but when he looked into Aegon's near purple eyes and he saw his friend Rhaegar reborn, Connington knew it to be true. Coin brought him to Pentos, and loyalty to his dead friend and a desire to return to his homeland made him stay and become part of their strategy.

Connington needed a new cover story or some would wonder where the noble exiled lord had gotten to. Varys provided all. He spread the story that Connington was accused of stealing from the Golden Company, was banished, and then had gone to Lys to sell his sword but drown himself in wine and anything else that numbed his pain until he died. Then Varys let it be known to all that Connington was dead, most likely of drink. It was better this way. No one would look for him or think much on him if he was rumored dead, especially in so inglorious a manner.

When Varys had told King Robert this news Robert merely grunted and said Connington was one of the best he had ever faced in single combat and that Mad Aerys had treated him shamefully. He had to be one of the best, Varys thought, to escape Robert's wrath at the Battle of the Bells. Varys often wondered if Robert would have pardoned Connington if he had come home. He had pardoned many others who had bent the knee to him. But Varys also knew that Connington despised Robert and all he stood for. Robert had killed Connington's best friend after all, and would most likely take no pardon from the man he called Usurper.

The years passed slowly as the toddler Aegon grew into a child and then a young man. Connington stayed by his side and taught him all he knew of his father and family and how to be a proper man and king. Others joined them, a chainless maester named Haldon and a comely septa called Lemore to educate him and teach him of the world and the gods. Later a Westerosi sellsword from the Golden Company, Rolly, now Ser Rolly Duckfield, joined them to teach Aegon to be a swordsman.

By the time the sellsword had joined them they had moved to the countryside to a ranch Illyrio owned. As the boy grew older it was harder to keep him hidden inside the walls of Illyrio's manse. He was restless, wanted to see the world, to return to his homelands, but they needed more time, to train him and raise him to be a king. His silver hair had been cut off to hide it when he was a tot, but as he grew older his baldness would attract suspicion from strangers they chanced on in the countryside and so they dyed it purple and Connington did the same. They fabricated a story that Connington was his father and his dead mother had been from Tyrosh. They went by the names Griff and Young Griff.

Now Varys met them again for the first time in many years and Connington's eyes were full of suspicion. He had never trusted Varys and Varys knew he wondered why he had come after so long apart from their venture. He was older than the last time Varys had seen him, as Varys was sure he seemed to Connington. Now as he stood on the pole boat's after deck looking up at Varys, a scowl was etched onto the exiled lord's clean shaven face, and he reluctantly took the rolled up parchment with Illyrio's seal which Varys handed him. Connington opened it quickly and read and then stared at Varys.

"So be it," he said and nodded for Varys to step aboard the pole boat. Young Prince Aegon was nearby and looked at this stranger up and down.

"Greetings…Young Griff," Varys said with a slight bow of his head.

"You know who he is, stop playing the mummer," Connington said gruffly.

"I think it best if we keep up the pretext, even amongst ourselves," Varys replied and Connington only grunted an affirmation.

"He knows who I am, but who is he?" Aegon asked.

"Lord Varys," said Duck as he climbed aboard carrying a chest, one of many that Illyrio had given them. Haldon and another man, older and with the look of the people of the Dornish Riverlands, came behind him, each carrying a chest. They started to stow them in the hold of the boat.

"Varys?" Aegon said in surprise after he looked to Connington and the exiled lord nodded. "Are you really Lord Varys?"

"I am."

"He is here to help us in our quest," Connington said as he helped the other men stow the chests.

Prince Aegon looked with suspicion at Varys. "I have heard you serve the court at King's Landing. That they call you the Spider. That you serve those who overthrew my family."

"I did serve them," said Varys in a repentant manner. "I also served your grandfather for many years. I am a lord of the realm. I serve who rules, even if I find serving distasteful. And I will serve you as well when you ascend the Iron Throne."

"How can I trust a man who served those who killed my family?" Aegon asked and out of the corner of his eye Varys saw Connington smile.

Varys shrugged. "Trust me or trust me not. But know this, Prince Aegon, soon to be King Aegon Targaryen, the Sixth of his Name. It was I who saved you from the wrath of Tywin Lannister and his minions. I who smuggled you out of King's Landing and across the Narrow Sea to Pentos. I think that act alone is at least worthy of some of your trust."

The boy smiled a bit. "I have heard this tale from Illyrio. Then you are indeed Lord Varys. I dimly recall you from my childhood but have not seen you for many years." Ten years to be exact, Varys knew. Aegon stepped toward him and then clapped his right hand on Varys rounded left shoulder. "I thank you Lord Varys…for my life. You shall be rewarded handsomely when I come into my inheritance."

"Thank you, my prince, but knowing the realm is at peace again and your family sits the Iron Throne once more shall be reward enough for me."

The chests were now stored and Connington turned to Aegon and Varys. "Lord Varys and I need to talk and you have your lessons, Young Griff," Connington told the prince and soon he was gone with Haldon to the cabin of the boat.

Connington then introduced Varys to the rest of the crew. First came Yandry, who captained the pole boat, and his wife Ysilla, who turned out to be their cook. Varys had heard of them from Illyrio but had never met them. He knew little about them except they were from Dorne, of the people known as the Orphans of the Greenblood River, descendants of those who had first come to Dorne with Nymeria in the Rhoynar Invasion a thousand years ago. They had refused to be assimilated, continuing their Rhoynar traditions, including living on pole boats on river ways. Illyrio had brought them into his service many years ago and they eagerly accepted a chance to return to their ancestral homeland. They and their pole boat served as a convenient cover for Connington's party, able to move easily up or down the Rhoyne if need be.

Then Varys met Septa Lemore. He had met her once before, years ago when she had first come into their service. She was still a comely woman even as she advanced toward middle age. A woman many men would like to bed, Varys knew, even though she wore the soft white robes of a septa.

"Lord Varys," she said with a slight dip of her head. "How fair things in Westeros?"

"Still war, my dear septa," Varys said gravely. "The Lannisters are not yet defeated but have retreated to their western homelands while Stannis still sits in King's Landing."

"And Dorne?" she asked, with almost a hint of worry in her tone. "What news of Dorne?"

Varys almost smiled at this question. He had long suspected she was from Dorne and had some connection to the Martell family. So his little birds told him and there was one story which said she could be the mother of one of the Red Viper's bastard daughters. "Some, but it is little," he replied. "So far they remain neutral. Prince Doran is ever a patient man. But his brother Oberyn is not, and the fate of Dorne and its people as always depends on which brother's will prevails, the man of wisdom or the man of action."

She smiled slightly. "The Red Viper was never a patient man."

"Do you know him?" Varys asked, faking an expression of curiosity as he asked.

She blanched for just a moment, not noticeable to an untrained observer, but to Varys' eyes it was all too obvious. "No," Lemore replied. "But his temperament is well known in the west, is it not?"

"Indeed it is," Varys replied. "As is his lustful nature and ability to plant only bastard daughters in the wombs of those he beds."

He had tried to shock her, to see if she would lash out at him in anger but instead she only nodded once. "He is known for that as well," Lemore replied evenly. "Excuse me, Lord Varys." She turned and went below.

Connington stepped in front of Varys and gave him an evil look. "You had best not play your game of intrigue on our boat, Spider," he growled in a low voice. "Leave her and the others be. They will tell you their stories if they wish. Do not pry. We are a small crew, yes, but we have been together many years now and know and trust each other. You we know as a master of intrigue and secrets so do not be surprised if they talk little to you. A peaceful boat is what I want. Enemies enough we have elsewhere. Cause any trouble and…" He nodded to the river and grinned. Varys got the point as swiftly as anyone would.

"As you say,…Griff." Varys knew Connington disliked him intensely and would perhaps relish tossing him overboard. For that and other reasons Varys knew he could not trust Connington. His stake in this venture was two fold – revenge on those who had destroyed his world, and a desire to return to his home and restore his and his family's name and reputation. Connington needed Varys and the others to do so. It seemed he had some affection for those on the boat, especially the prince. But there was none for Varys.

The exiled lord disliked him for many reasons, especially for forcing him to accept the idea that he had stolen coin from the Golden Company and died a drunkard. Few people knew the truth of that lie, only the commander of the Golden Company at the time, Varys, Illyrio, and those on the pole boat. The old commander of the company was dead but the new one, Homeless Harry Strickland, knew the truth as well.

Connington disliked him also because Varys had stood with the other lords in the main courtroom of the Red Keep in King's Landing as Mad King Aerys scolded him for failing to stop Robert Baratheon and then humiliated him further by stripping him of his position as Hand of the King and all his other titles and lands. Then came the ultimate humiliation, banishment from Westeros. Varys knew Connington believed that Varys was in part to blame, because the whole court believed that Varys had great influence on the Mad King and always listened to the whispers of Varys. In this case it was a falsehood. The Mad King had decided Connington's punishment all on his own and none dared raise a voice to oppose his will.

"We have much to discuss," Varys said to the exiled lord. "Let us find a quiet spot so I can tell all the news of Westeros and the east."

Connington bade him to follow and they retired to his cabin and spent the late afternoon and early evening in discussions as the pole boat stayed tied up to the river bank. For the most part Connington listened as Varys told him all that went on in the west, about the battles around King's Landing, the trouble many had with the ironmen, and of events at the Wall. When he was done Connington only said they would sail south on the morrow, to find the Golden Company, and after that they would need make plans to head east to join Daenerys or wait for her to join them. He spoke as if he were Hand of the King again, in a tone that brooked no arguments, and so Varys agreed with him, for the time being.

That was the plan Illyrio had told him in Pentos, after all. She should have been marching west by now, and perhaps she had started out already, before she could be bottled up in Slaver's Bay. Varys' news of the east was stale, weeks old by now, and so they would have to do as Connington ordered, sail south, find the Golden Company, and gather as much information as they could.

Later on deck they all had an evening meal of bread and dried fish and boiled pease, with strong ale and rough red wine to wash it down. The food was nourishing but of poorer fare than he was used to after a month of luxurious living with Illyrio. Perhaps it was for the best though, for Varys had grown plumper during his stay in Pentos and the days and months ahead would require him to stay healthy and vigorous.

As the moon rose and the night grew on Connington gave orders for them to take turns at watch, including Varys.

"I have no weapons," Varys told them. It was a slight lie for he did have his dagger he had taken from the Lannister camp hidden up his wide left sleeve.

"Not to worry," said Duck with a broad grin framed by his shaggy beard. "No one comes this way except the odd pole boat, traders mostly."

"What of the pirates you mentioned on our journey here?" Varys asked. Duck and Haldon had tried to scare him with tales of river pirates and stone men with the horrid greyscale affliction that inhabited the Rhoyne waiting to waylaid the unwary who came their way. Varys knew it was all true and the boat's captain confirmed it.

"They are real enough," said Yandry with an uneasy look toward the water. "But they rarely venture so far north."

Haldon spoke up. "Best give him a spear or sword, Duck."

Duck looked to Connington and he nodded. Duck went to the cabin roof and pulled down a long spear and handed it to Varys. "Can you use it?"

Varys tittered. "If you ask if I have learned to master arms, I am afraid the answer is no. I believe you just stick them with the sharp end, yes?"

Duck laughed. "That's the way of it. But if a boat comes near you wake the rest of us first. If they get in close try to push off their boat with the spear. Then stick them if need be."

"And if they come from the landward side?

Duck shrugged. "Then say a prayer to the gods. But not before you scream for us…if your throat remains uncut."

Duck laughed as Aegon grinned and turned to Varys. "Ser Rolly likes to jest, Lord Varys. There will be no trouble. As Yandry says, this far north there are few people, few boats and therefore fewer pirates."

"That's because there is nothing to steal up here," Duck added unnecessarily as Varys had already gotten the point. He knew pirates preyed only on ships with cargoes worth stealing. This empty forsaken land of the Upper Rhoyne had nothing of worth and few people and therefore attracted few traders. Once it had been a fertile, populated land but even after a thousand years since Nymeria had taken her people to Dorne the lands remained mostly empty.

They continued their preparations for the night, the men checking the ropes that tied their boat and making sure the big single sail was secured as well. The night was a bit chilly so they lit a single brazier on the after deck. Varys had worn warm clothing in the journey from Pentos, but he knew as they traveled south it would get much hotter. He had one bag with him, filled with his few possession, mostly clothing, linen shirts and silken robes for the most part. He also had the things he needed to change his appearance if need be. A large sack of coins lay at the bottom of his bag, for whatever lay ahead. Most of them were coins of Volantis as that is where they planned to go. In Volantis and the cities which lined the lower river Illyrio had friends who could provide more coin and food and shelter if need be.

Ysilla made him a bed on deck from some flour sacks and Septa Lemore gave him some blankets. "Do not worry on what they said," she assured him. "We are safe here. But further downriver, caution is the order of the day…and night."

Varys thank her for her advice and the blankets. As she turned to head to the main cabin she paused. "What gods do you pray to Lord Varys?"

"None," he told her. He awaited the look of disapproval or shock he often got when he told people this, which is why he rarely spoke on religion with anyone. But she only pursed her lips together, bade him goodnight, and turned to the cabin.

Varys lay down under his blankets on his bed of flour sacks as all the others except Connington went to bed in the cabin, on more comfortable beds he did not doubt. The exiled lord sat on a keg of ale and ate an apple as he looked out over the river, his eyes ever moving, looking in all directions. Occasionally he got up and paced the deck. Varys tried to get comfortable but soon gave up and lay thinking on Lemore's question. He had once believed in the gods, the Seven, when he was a small boy, a slave in a mummer's touring show. But then when he was sold and his manhood was cut away, Varys gave up believing, wondering why any god would allow that to happen to a helpless boy.

He looked up at the night sky and saw the stars peaking through the clouds above. Varys thought long on what to do next. To join the Golden Company and head east to join Daenerys they would need ships, many ships. The Volantenes would not be so eager to provide these ships if they felt the Golden Company was going to support this queen who had smashed the slave trade. Slaves outnumbered free men in Volantis. Soon these freemen would strike back in Slaver's Bay, to reopen the slave trade and to show they still had strength, more so to keep their own slaves in check than to destroy the upstart queen of Slaver's Bay. And if that happened, if Daenerys and her army were overwhelmed, her young dragons killed or captured? Then all of their hopes and years of planning would depend on Prince Aegon becoming the man he was supposed to be.

Varys finally fell asleep for a short time, before he was rudely awaken by Connington to take his post on watch. He had no sooner sat on his sack of flour with his spear in hand when he closed his eyes and fell asleep again only to be awaken once more. But this time there was a sharp edge at his throat and Varys awoke with a start and fell off the flour sacks, his large rump making a thump on the hard deck, while his spear clattered beside him. He was about to scream for help when he heard a familiar voice.

"If I had been a pirate or robber you would be dead," Jon Connington said with scorn as he sheathed his sword

"My apologies," Varys replied as he scrambled up to his feet.

Connington looked him over. "This was a test, Spider. I usually take the night watch by myself. I know you are too soft and too used to a life of luxury. But I now also know you cannot be trusted with such a simple task as staying awake to guard our boat. Find something useful to do. Perhaps helping Ysilla with the food would be a more suitable task for the likes of you. We have no idle hands to feed on this boat."

"As you wish. But I must remind you that Illyrio sent me here to serve as Princ…Young Griff's advisor," Varys said.

Connington scoffed slightly. "Advisor? Don't you mean whisperer? That is what you were, master of whisperers."

"You know I was. And you were Hand of the King."

"Hand to a madman," Connington said with anger. "Go back to your flour sacks. Sleep easy for better men than you guard your person."

Varys ignored the insult. "And the matter of Young Griff?"

"As you wish. But fill his head with no lies. Tell him all you know of Westeros, of Stannis, the Lannisters, the Starks, the Tullys, all our enemies."

"The Starks are enemies of the Lannisters, the Tullys are as well," Varys told him. "Might it not be prudent if we sound out an alliance with them? I…"

"Never!" the exiled lord said harshly. "Ned Stark was Robert's right hand. When Aegon comes into his birthright the Starks will be dealt with, mark my words."

"As you wish," Varys said again in a genial manner and after a moment Connington again told him to go to sleep. Varys knew it was no use arguing with him on this point…for now. He would have to get to him through Prince Aegon.

Morning came too soon and after a breakfast of biscuits and bacon washed down with ale they set off down the river. The days went by slowly, with Varys spending most of his time with Aegon, at least when the lad was not busy with his other lessons. Varys taught him all about the west, all of the households, who was who, mixed with some history and politics. Haldon sat with them sometimes and more than once he and Varys argued over some point or another. Duck thought to teach Varys how to use a spear and sword properly but Varys only tittered and said such lessons would be wasted on him. Septa Lemore did not push him on his lack of faith but more than once he thought she looked at him in a disapproving manner.

They soon passed down the tributaries of the Upper Rhoyne, and came to where the river was much wider and running more slowly. They raised the sail when there was a wind astern, but mostly they drifted or poled the boat where the waters were shallow. They saw a few other fishing and trading boats, who warned of pirates and slave catchers and stone men. They also gave news of what was happening in Volantis. All the news was of preparations for the triarch elections and of coming war. One rumor said a large group of sellswords was coming from the Disputed Lands to join the coming venture to the east. That had to be the Golden Company.

Thankfully there were no incidents. As they traveled further south the river grew wider and foggier. The fog hid them from many dangerous eyes. As night came on they poled up a small stream or found a heavily overgrown riverbank to hide in. They rested and tied up in shallows and sometimes lashed vegetation to the boat to help hide it.

On Dagger Lake the dangers of pirates increased and so they traveled at night for some days. They encountered even heavier fogs on the lake. They sometimes saw the lanterns of boats in the distance and moved to avoid them. A few times they encountered stone men on bridges in ancient flooded cities but the stone men let them be. Varys shuddered when he heard them wailing and moaning and wondered if he would have the strength to cut off a finger or toe if the signs of greyscale began to appear on him.

After the lake was behind them they returned to daytime travel. One evening just before sunset a few days after they had passed Dagger Lake heavy rains came lashing down and Connington ordered them to the river bank where they got good and soaking wet as they secured the Shy Maid. They retreated to their cabins to change clothes and then came to the main upper cabin for their supper of cold, dried fish and bread. After a time all went below to bed except Aegon. Connington was letting him take turns at watch in less dangerous places. Varys' bed was on deck and he was not inclined to go out there and get wet again. Aegon offered Varys his bed but Varys politely declined. He was not very sleepy anyway and the two stood, looking out the cabin's open window ports at the rain as darkness came on.

"Soon we will be in Volantis," Aegon commented. "I have never been in large city…not since Pentos I mean."

"That was some time ago."

"Yes."

Varys sensed some regret in the boy's tone. "You understand why we raised you as we have?"

"I understand…but I did not like it." He turned to Varys. "All these years I have listened and done what I was told. I am a prince, I was told. I will be king, they said to me. When, I asked? Soon, some day, next year, when we are ready, in the future. I am sick of these words!"

"Patience is a virtue, my prince. The time is coming now, faster than you expect."

He grunted. "So you say. So says Griff. Lord Connington, I mean."

They were silent for a long moment, staring out at the pounding rain. Suddenly he turned to Varys. "Tell me about my mother. You knew her, did you not?"

Varys sighed. "Yes, but not well. She was beautiful, she loved your father with all her heart, she…"

"Why didn't he love her?" Aegon demanded.

"My prince?" Varys said, taken aback unexpectedly.

"I know," Aegon said darkly. "I have heard the story of Robert Baratheon and my father's fight on the Trident many times. When I asked when, where, and who, they always answer me. But when I ask why, their eyes shift uneasily, they stumble over their words, and then claim Robert was a rebel and a traitor who attacked my family because he lusted after power. But it's all a lie. I heard them whisper when they think I am asleep. One name I kept hearing. Stark. Lord Rickard Stark and his son Brandon, executed by my grandfather, this much they tell me is true. But not why, except they were rebels. And also the daughter's name, Lyanna Stark. Her and my father's name they whisper together. Tell me Lord Varys…tell me the truth of this. If you ever hope to serve me, then serve me now and tell me the truth."

Varys knew he must tell the truth because once they reached the Golden Company there were many men there who knew the story and it would not be long before Aegon heard it as well. "Your father loved another woman, it is true."

"Lyanna Stark?" he asked.

"Yes." And so Varys told him the whole story, everything as they stood and looked and listened to the rain. He asked many questions which Varys answered and when they were done, much time had passed and the rain was easing up.

"You must understand," Varys said when near the end of explaining it all. "Many men and women, especially lords and ladies, marry not for love. Their families make alliances, to get more power, to get more land, to have a strong ally, for many reasons. And so it was with your parents."

"I understand," Aegon answered quietly. "Robert Baratheon and my father fought for the love of the same woman. But who did she really love?"

"Your father," Varys quickly answered. "Robert and the Starks and the whole of the west believe she was kidnapped by your father. It was never so. Your father was not an evil man, would not force a woman to come to his bed. She went with him, willingly. She fell in love with him at the tournament or soon after."

"But she died during the war you said. How?"

"That is a bit of a mystery. During the war Lyanna Stark was hidden in a tower in the mountains of Dorne, with several members of the Kingsguard protecting her. All commanded by your father, of course." This Varys did not know until after the war, as Prince Rhaegar did not trust him. Of course, the missing Kingsguards knights did not go unnoticed with war looming. Mad Aerys had demanded they be recalled but Rhaegar ignored him, one of the few in the kingdom who could do so and get away with it. Over the years Varys pieced together bits and parts of the story. But even he was not certain of all of it.

He told Aegon what he knew. "After the war was near done, Ned Stark and several companions found her and slew the Kingsguards men after a fierce battle. Only two survived that day, Ned Stark and his friend Howland Reed. Lyanna Stark was already ill, of what I know not. She soon died. Ned Stark and Reed have never spoken to anyone on the subject as far as I know. She died and her brother took her body home to Winterfell after he tore down that tower to use its stones to make tombs for the men who fell with him. That is all I know."

"It is more than I knew before," the prince told him. "I thank you, Lord Varys. From now on there shall be no secrets between us."

"Of course, my prince," Varys replied, giving the same answer he had given to Aerys and Cersei and many others who had said the same thing to him over the years.

"Tell me one more thing," Aegon continued. "Who killed my mother and sister?"

Varys knew Illyrio had told the boy the truth of this, but perhaps he was testing Varys or only trying to confirm what Illyrio had told him. "Gregor Clegane killed your mother and thought he killed you as well. Amory Lorch killed your sister. All by the order of Tywin Lannister."

Aegon took a deep breath and there was anger in his eyes. "They must all die."

"Tywin Lannister is already dead, as you know. And before I left Pentos I heard that Lorch had died as well."

That surprised him. "How?"

"In a dispute with Tyrion Lannister at Harrenhal is what the whisperers say. They also say Clegane is still alive and in command of Harrenhal now."

"Someday I will kill him myself," Aegon said in anger. Varys would normally have tittered at such a bold boast, but this time he would not do so, would not hurt the boy whose mother and sister had been so cruelly taken from him.

"I hope I am there to see you slay him, my prince," Varys replied.

Aegon looked at him intently. "I am no fool, Lord Varys. Duck says Gregor Clegane is a monstrous brute who slays all who dare face him. I could never hope to slay him in single combat as much as I would like to. No secrets between us, I said."

"Yes, my prince. He would kill you, I do not doubt. But there are many ways to kill a man besides single combat."

Aegon nodded. "Then I have a task for you, your first of many to come if you wish to serve me. Send word to Illyrio. Find a way to bring me Gregor Clegane's head."

"I believe your uncles Prince Doran and Oberyn Martell desire his head just as much."

Aegon grinned. "Then between us we should find a way. The fact that this monster still lives and breathes is an affront to my mother's memory and my family's honor."

He was speaking like a true prince, Varys knew, not a scared boy in hiding anymore. But Varys knew they needed caution here. "Then it is best to let your uncles deal with this issue. If we send assassins to kill him perhaps we will tip our hand too soon."

Aegon thought for a moment and then nodded. "Yes, that would seem wiser."

Aegon looked out at the rain as it eased up and they talked a bit on the voyage to come. Not long after Connington awoke and told the prince to get some rest and Aegon went below. Connington looked at Varys. "The deck is wet. Go to my bunk if you wish." Varys thanked him, went below, crawled into the bunk opposite the prince's in the narrow cabin Connington shared with him.

"Lord Varys?" Aegon asked in the darkness.

"Yes, my prince?"

"Is Daenerys beautiful?"

"Indeed she is."

"She will be my wife."

"Yes, my prince."

The boy said no more and soon Varys could hear him snoring softly and after that exhaustion overtook him and for the first time in many weeks Varys slept well.

Six days later in the early morning they reached the port city of Selhorys on the east bank of the Rhoyne. They needed supplies and information and tied up at one of the city's many wharves. After paying for their wharf fees, Connington and Yandry returned to the boat. The exiled lord began to give orders.

"Young Griff and I will stay and guard the boat. Yandry and Ysilla will buy the supplies we need. Duck, help them carry what they buy and guard their person and purse. Haldon, Varys, we need information about the Golden Company and what is happening in Volantis. Think you can handle this task?" The questions was for Varys.

"It is what I do best."

"Then you had best be on your way."

Haldon and Varys climbed off the boat first and for Varys it was a joy to set foot in civilization after so many days on the river system. Varys had never been in the city before but knew it was one of the few large ones on the east bank of the Rhoyne. For here the Dothraki occasionally came raiding, and most people preferred to live on the west bank, with the wide Rhoyne between them and the horse lords.

Selhorys was one place where Illyrio had a friend who could help Varys. Illyrio told him to keep these friends a secret from the others, for Illyrio was always cautious about revealing how far his fat fingers extended into the world of commerce. Varys had committed the name of the man and his address to memory. Illyrio also had an old map of the city at his manse and Varys had studied it intently so he would not become lost in Selhorys.

"There is a place I know here which a talkative customs officer often frequents," Haldon told Varys as they walked through the crowded waterfront. The people seemed in a hurry and had a nervous cast to them. They also seemed to be carrying many personal belongings as they headed to the wharves. The place was markedly empty of the usual fishmongers and other merchants who normally clogged the waterfronts of major cities. More then one berth at the wharfs was empty and Varys could see several boats crowded with people crossing the river.

"They are leaving," Varys told him and Haldon followed his gaze across the wide river.

"Dothraki," Haldon said evenly as he took in the scene. "They are rumored to be nearby. Not a rumor anymore I fear. Come. My contact will know what is happening if he is here."

Varys knew it was time to leave him. "I have my own contacts."

Haldon looked at him in puzzlement. "Who? I know many in Selhorys."

"Who is my concern."

Haldon scowled. "Griff will not like us separating."

"He asked us to get information," Varys answered. "You have your contacts, I have mine. Two sources are better than one."

"Be it on your head then if some evil befalls you."

Varys sighed theatrically. "My dear Haldon, evil I have known, for years and years. Fear not. I will meet you back at the boat when the sun reaches its zenith."

"As you wish," Haldon answered with an edge of anger and then he walked off by himself.

Varys turned and got his bearings and soon entered a poor district near the wharves, which he had to pass through to get to a better neighborhood where he knew the merchant he was to contact lived. It was a hot day and a stench of fish, shit, and piss filled the air. He wore a plain light brown linen shirt and woolen breeches, with the rough leather boots of a common worker. A sheen of light sweat was on his forehead. Varys was trying not to walk too fast to prevent sweating more.

As he walked, he attracted some looks. He was not in disguise, as he might have normally been in such a place. He knew his bald head and plump cheeks marked him as a eunuch, who were mainly slaves in the east. Despite being a slave as a boy, Varys had never been branded with a slaver's tattoo. On the streets of Selhorys he saw many people so marked, often carrying or pushing heavy loads behind their masters as they walked with hurried steps towards the waterfront. The rich are leaving. Varys wondered if their slaves would go with them. Perhaps, as they were valuable property.

"Lord Varys," said a voice behind him suddenly as he walked down a filthy narrow street filled with pot shops, wine sinks, and inns. Then a firm hand was clasped on his right shoulder. Varys stopped and sighed and cursed his stupidity for not wearing at least a wig and a hat. He wondered which of his enemies on this side of the Narrow Sea recognized him. At least he didn't stab him in the back, a good sign, for the moment. Varys knew what he had to do. He slid his right hand up his left sleeve and grasped the hidden dagger's hilt, while at the same time he put on his most obsequious manner, turned and was about to bow his head and say 'you are mistaken'. But when he saw who it was that had accosted him his voice caught in his throat.

"Not expecting me, were you?" said Ser Jorah Mormont. The heavily muscled, bearded knight looked like the bear his people took as their sigil. He was dressed in a woolen surcoat and Varys could see the chain mail underneath, both of which made Mormont sweat profusely in the vile heat.

"I heard you were farther east," Varys replied, quickly recovering from his surprise.

Mormont's bearded face clouded over for a second but then he scowled. He took his hand away from Varys' shoulder and brought it to his sword hilt.

"There is no need for that, I assure you, good ser," Varys said hurriedly with a nod to the sword, as he released his right hand from the dagger and let both of his hands fall by his sides to show he had no weapons.

"Not yet," answered Mormont with another scowl. "We need have words."

Varys nodded. "As you wish. My business can wait. But know this. I travel with others and if I am…delayed…they will come looking."

"Fear not, Lord Varys," Mormont said. "I seek answers, nothing else. Your blood will only spill if you try to prick me with the dagger you have up your sleeve or try to flee."

Varys grinned slightly, wondering what else the exiled knight knew about him. "Then by all means. Talking is thirsty work. Perhaps some wine or…"

"Ale," Mormont said roughly. "In here."

Ser Jorah nodded to a nearby door and Varys entered. It was a small dingy place with few customers at this time of the morning. They took a table in a corner and Mormont sat where he could view the door, the proprietor, and the other customers. They got pewter cups of ale and after one sip Varys vowed to never touch the vile stuff again. Mormont quaffed it, made a face and then looked at Varys.

"What news from Westeros?"

"Your father is dead," Varys said to begin and he opened with that because he knew that would disarm Mormont and turn things to Varys' advantage.

Mormont's eyes widened slightly and then his face took on a grim cast and then he glared at Varys. "If you lie…"

"It is no lie," Varys replied swiftly. "I did not know my own father but I know how much one's father means to most. I would not lie about such a thing, even to my vilest enemies."

Mormont said nothing but took a drink, draining his cup. When it was empty he slammed it on the table, ordered another and when it came he drank again, finishing half the cup in one go. Finally he looked at Varys and it seemed there was a sheen of moisture on his eyes. "How?"

"Murdered by his own men, north of the Wall, during a retreat from the Fist of the First Men."

"Murdered! By who? Why?" Ser Jorah demanded in anger.

"I know not many details," Varys answered calmly. "The day before I left Pentos a ship came in from Braavos. It had paid a visit to Eastwatch to trade. The captain spoke with some men of the Night's Watch. They told him Ned Stark has called his banners to go to the aid of the Wall. The sailor said the wildlings are attacking Castle Black."

"Have they taken it?" Mormont asked eagerly.

"Not at that time. But prior to that your father led the Watch out to the Fist of the First Men, hoping to catch the wildings by surprise as they marched to the Wall. They were attacked there…by the Others."

"The Others?" Ser Jorah repeated in shock.

"So said the captain," Varys replied. "So said the men of Eastwatch. Your father's men were overwhelmed. He led the survivors in a retreat. Somewhere in the forest at a place called Crastor's Keep he was killed by his own men. Why and by whom…I know not. That is all I have learned."

"Gods," Mormont said quietly as he drank deeply again. For a long time they were silent. Then Mormont spoke, his head hung low, his eyes unable to meet Varys'. "I shamed him and my family name."

"I know. And then you fled into exile."

"Ned Stark," Mormont said with a low growl. "He wanted my head."

"For good reason."

The exiled knight raised his head and a flash of anger came to Mormont's eyes for a moment and then it was gone. "Aye," he said in resignation. "Did they at least recover his body? Give him a proper funeral?"

"I know not."

"His sister…my aunt…I suppose she knows by now."

"Again, I know not," Varys said. He could see Mormont was thinking on Bear Island and his family and folk so far away.

"The Others," Mormont finally said with a shake of his head. "A name used to curse your enemies. Legends, myths from another age."

"Mayhaps," Varys replied. "But the men of Eastwatch were nervous, the ship's captain told me, and feared the rumors were true."

"If true, then they will attack the Wall, the wildings, the whole of the North if they get through!" Ser Jorah said in anger. "My people are there!"

"Yes," said Varys. "But on an island in the Bay of Ice."

"Aye…but there are boats on that shore and they don't call it the Bay of Ice for nothing. Who knows what the winter will bring, what cold will come? I have seen that sea half frozen and filled with ice floes from the glaciers of the northern lands. They can cross the ice with ease."

"Winter is not here yet."

"Aye, but it will come, as the Starks always say. Tell me the rest, all of it. King's Landing, the Lannisters, everything."

"Tywin Lannister is dead."

"This is old news," Mormont said as he took a drink of ale and made a face.

"Stannis is in King's Landing and is declaring himself King."

"Old news as well," Mormont told him. "And I know he burnt half the city in taking it."

"An accident, not his intention," Varys said and for a few moments they spoke on the Battle of King's Landing, including Joffrey's death.

"But Robert's second son now claims the Iron Throne as well as Stannis Baratheon," said Mormont.

Varys tittered slightly. "He is no son of Robert Baratheon."

"Aye, I have heard the rumors. Are they true?"

"It seems Queen Cersei and Ser Jamie were more than brother and sister. All of Robert's children are really Jaime's."

"Gods," exclaimed Mormont. "Such vileness. The Lannisters are cursed in the eyes of gods and men."

"But still powerful and rich. They will fight to the bitter end to maintain Tommen's claim."

Now a gleam of light came into Ser Jorah's eyes. "But one can sit the Iron Throne. The true heir. A Targaryen princess. The blood of King Aerys, his daughter."

"Daenerys," Varys said in a bare whisper. Now they came to the heart of the matter. "She still lives?"

For a second Mormont seemed uncertain, his eyes casting about. "She was alive…when I saw her last, a moon's turn ago." He seemed about to say more but stopped.

"Tell me it all," Varys said and before he knew it the tables were turned and Ser Jorah was doing the talking, telling Varys everything that happened to them on the journey to the Dothraki homelands, how Khal Drogo killed Viserys, how Daenerys was almost killed and…

Suddenly Mormont scowled and glared at Varys. "You sent assassins!"

Varys looked at him in wonder. "At King Robert's command based on reports you sent me."

"Aye," said Mormont more quietly. "I was a fool. I could not see what she would become until it was too late to undo the reports I sent you."

"I wrote letters to you, telling you of the assassin's plan, of a plot to use poisoned wine to kill her," Varys said. "Did you get these letters?"

"Aye, just in time to stop the killer. Khal Drogo made sure he died in a terrible way. I saved her life from the killers I helped set on her." He sounded full of regret.

"You wanted to go home," Varys said in a more gentle tone. "I tried to persuade Robert to pardon you. He seemed inclined but Ned Stark would not hear of it."

Mormont grunted. "Stark has no love for me. He is too honorable, that one."

"True, so honorable he argued fiercely with Robert over the issue of sending assassins after Daenerys and her unborn child. Resigned as Hand of the King when Robert ordered the assassination against his advice."

That surprised Mormont. "Truly?" Then he snorted. "So he failed to stop his beloved Robert's lust for Targaryen blood. At least I stopped the assassin."

"Then our cause is not lost if she still lives," Varys said, deciding it was time to find where this exiled knight's true loyalties lay.

"Cause?" Mormont asked in puzzlement. "I know only one cause you have, Spider. To find out the secrets of the world and use them to you own ends. Why are you in the east?"

"I seek Daenerys Targaryen and her dragons. They are real, are they not?"

"Aye," Mormont told him and then described what happened when the dragons were hatched. "I did not believe my eyes were seeing true when I saw her climb out of Khal Drogo's funeral pyre with her clothes and hair burned off and three dragons crawling over her unmarked flesh."

"It seems there is some new magic in the air," Varys commented. "The Others walk and dragons will soon fly again."

"They can already fly," the big knight stated. For a long moment Mormont stared at him as if trying to decide something. "Why do you seek her?" he finally asked.

"To help her return to Westeros and take what is rightfully hers." Not exactly true, but true for the most part. He preferred if Aegon took the throne, as he was the rightful heir, but they needed his aunt's dragons to achieve victory.

"Again I ask why?" Mormont said with fury in his voice. "What is in it for you? You served Robert and then his sons after King Aerys was coldly murdered by the Kingslayer. What stake do you have in a Targaryen restoration?"

"I served because serving was preferable to my head on a spike," Varys replied calmly. "But I also serve a higher seat, and always have, just like your father did with the men of the Night's Watch. I serve the realm."

Mormont scoffed. "Such lies you tell. You serve yourself. What schemes are you brewing now in that bald head of yours ?"

Varys sighed in a rather theatrical manner. "No one loves the Spider and believes his words even less."

"With good reason people say words are wind, more so from you. I will not help you find Daenerys."

"I know where she is. I have come down the Rhoyne by way of Pentos but even there the word has come of her doings in the east in Slaver's Bay."

"Then stop this mummer's farce and tell me what you intend to do!"

"I had hoped to travel to Meereen and meet Daenerys, to offer my advice and wisdom and knowledge of Westeros to her cause."

"You travel to Meereen?" Mormont asked, a bit too eagerly. "How? When?"

"Plans that are not yet laid. I will soon travel to Volantis, to seek a ship and a good captain heading east."

Mormont grunted. "Mayhaps you will find one. But you had best hurry. The triarchs will soon be sending many ships to Meereen. War galleys for the most part, filled with archers and men at arms and siege engines. The whole of the east is going after her, to destroy her because she destroyed their slave trade and has given hope to the tattooed multitudes in chains here and elsewhere."

"She had best start west as soon as possible then," Varys said with worry. "My friends are in contact with the Golden Company. If need be we can march east, perhaps meet her and support her."

"The Golden Company? Aye, I have heard they are south of here, 10,000 of them. What coin do you have to pay so many sellswords?"

"Coin I have, do not worry. Support I have. Friends I have. You, Ser Jorah, may have come late to the princess' side, but I have supported her since the day she was born."

Mormont glared again. "Stop with your lies."

"You were at her wedding. You know who supports her, kept her safe for many years."

Mormont's eyes narrowed. "Illyrio Mopatis?"

Varys nodded. "He and I are old friends. His plan was to have Khal Drogo give Viserys a Dothraki horde to invade the west but it seems Viserys' stupidity cost him his life. Now we must see that his sister takes his place."

"You…you truly seek to put a Targaryen on the Iron Throne?" Mormont said in suspicion.

"I do," Varys answered. "I think my letters warning of her assassins is proof enough of my true intentions. On the one hand I had to please Robert, but at the same time I had to make sure Viserys and Daenerys were safe."

"I will come with you to Meereen," Mormont said quickly and then he finished his ale in one gulp. "Gods, that is vile stuff."

Varys couldn't deny it as his own cup remained full. "We certainly could use a man like you," Varys said. "Your sword and your knowledge of what has happened in Slaver's Bay. We could pay well…"

Mormont quickly reached across the table and grabbed Varys right arm roughly and glared at him with an intensity that made Varys very nervous. "I will take no more of your coin, Spider!" he spat in a low growl. "If I help you I do it for her, not for you, or your money, for her!"

And then Varys knew. He loved her. He wanted her. She was his wife reborn, the wife he had lost because he was just an heir to a barren frozen island in a sea of ice while she was a lady of the south with expensive tastes and needs. It was why he was in exile, why he could not return home, condemned to death by Ned Stark for selling some poachers into slavery to raise money for his wife's demands. He lost his soul to a pretty face before and now it was happening again.

"For her," Varys said calmly. "We all do it for her."

Mormont let go of his arm and silently stared at Varys as if trying to make up his mind, which he finally did. "We need a ship. I know how to get one in Volantis."

Varys nodded slightly. "Very well. I must return to my companions and let them know you have joined us."

"Who are these companions?" Mormont asked, suspicion clear in his tone again.

"You will meet them soon enough."

"If you are trying to lay a trap for me Spider, know this. Your blood will be the first I spill."

"I would expect nothing less. Now I have one more question. Why did the princess send you away from her side?" Varys instinctively knew it had to have happened that way or he would still be with her.

His eyes gleamed in anger again. "It was Selmy. Barristan Selmy. He appeared in Qarth disguised as a squire for a fat pit fighter named Strong Belwas. They claimed to have come from Illyrio with three ships, seeking to help the princess. The ships were real enough. Fool I was I did not see who he really was until he saved Daenerys from an assassin. He is her shadow now, as I once was. He told her about my dealings with you. She dismissed me from her service after that."

"You think she will welcome you back?"

He shook his head. "No. But know this. Selmy told her all about you, and how you gave many reports over the years to Robert on her and her brother's whereabouts. I told her of your letter to warn of the assassin but she cared not, her anger was so great. Perhaps she will welcome you or she may feed you to her dragons. I know not."

Not a death Varys or any man would care for. "A chance I must take," Varys replied. He had letters from Illyrio explaining all about his role in their venture but would she believe them? "Perhaps my value as an informer to her will outweigh any need for vengeance. And what will you do for the princess?"

"I will serve her somehow, with my sword as I did in the past, in one of the free companies she has in her service if need be."

"I am sure she will not begrudge you the chance to die for her," Varys said as he rose from the table. "Come, my friend. We have much to do if we are to reach Meereen before the tide of war washes over our princess once more."