KEVAN
Ser Kevan Lannister did not like being the Hand of the King. The queen was unreasonable and had corrupted his son. The king was a spoiled child. Janos Slynt was a lickspittle and a tool. Littlefinger and Varys were so slick, they left oil slicks wherever they went. At least they were competent, which was more than could be said for the so-called Lord Slynt. Out of the entire small council, only Grand Maester Pycelle had been effective and pleasant. In fact, Ser Kevan was currently with Pycelle in the Tower of the Hand, discussing what could be made of Renly's death.
"The Tyrells may be brought over to our side," Pycelle was saying.
"Indeed they may but they will require a royal marriage to do so," Ser Kevan replied.
"Joffery's betrothal to Sansa is all but at an end in any case. They say Margaery Tyrell is quite stunning," Pycelle replied.
"Not to mention the swords sworn to her father," Ser Kevan said.
"Indeed, my lord hand, but who should we send to negotiate such a settlement," Pycelle coughed, "Not the spider I should hope,"
"No. I have need of Varys here," Ser Kevan rose from his seat, "Perhaps Littlefinger but he will require something in return,"
"If I may suggest sending Lord Slynt instead?" Pycelle said.
"No. I need Lord Slynt to lead the Goldcloaks at least until Stannis has made his move," Ser Kevan hated that man. He had killed a babe in its mother's arms. The man would pay for that when Tywin came back, "What will be Littlefinger's price?"
"A castle and some lands, most like. His family is quite poor," Pycelle replied.
"Any castle and lands? I fear we are woefully short on such prizes at the moment," Ser Kevan said.
"Well, my lord hand, after Lord Stark's arrest, Littlefinger did ask for Sansa's hand. The queen turned him down for being too lowborn. I have heard it said that he fought for her mother's hand when they were young and that he took her maidenhead as well," Pycelle replied.
Ser Kevan nodded.
"Tell him, then. If he will negotiate a royal marriage with the Tyrells, then he may have Lady Sansa's hand. I daresay that he will be a better husband than the king," Ser Kevan said. He remembered when they had heard of Robb Stark's victory at Oxcross, he had managed to get Sansa away from the King before anything untoward happened but even so…
"We should inform the queen," Pycelle suggested.
"Yes we should," Ser Kevan opened the door, "Come in,"
Ser Lancel and Tyrek, both former squires to King Robert, came.
"I want you to deliver a message to the queen," Ser Kevan winced, "Tyrek, not Lancel,"
Lancel winced as well.
"What is the message, uncle?" Tyrek asked.
"Tell the queen we plan to marry Joffery to Margaery Tyrell. We will have Littlefinger, escorted by some Lannister guardsmen, go to Highgarden and present our case. If he does well, we will plan to marry him to Lady Sansa," Ser Kevan explained.
"I had quite forgotten. What about the matter of Dorne, my lord hand. They never declared for Renly and could also perhaps be persuaded to join our cause," Pycelle said.
"It would likely cost us another royal marriage. Myrcelle to Quentyn or Trystane Martell, perhaps," Ser Kevan said.
"If I may say something, father," Lancel said.
"Go on, son," Ser Kevan said.
"The queen would not wish to send away her only daughter. She was not happy in her marriage to Robert and would not wish the same on her daughter," Lancel explained.
A blush rose to Ser Kevan's cheeks. Her marriage to Robert must have been unhappy indeed if the queen jumped into bed with her cousin immediately after his death.
"Be that as it may, it may have to be done anyway. If we won this war and all it cost me was the queen's hate, I would count myself lucky the price was so low," Ser Kevan said.
Lancel nodded.
"Go then, tell the queen about Littlefinger and the Tyrells. Do not mention Dorne, not yet," Ser Kevan said to Tyrek, who nodded and left without another word.
"Speaking of the royal children, father…" Lancel began.
"They shall be away from the city before Stannis arrives. Myrcella and Tommen will, at any rate. The king will stay to defend the city," Ser Kevan said and Lancel nodded.
"Go. You both have things to do and so do I," Ser Kevan said. Both Lancel and Grand Maester Pycelle left.
A few minutes later, he left as well. He needed to talk to Lord Slynt about the defense of the city. He found Slynt not far from the throne room, drinking from a wine bottle.
"How many men are in now in the Goldcloaks?" Ser Kevan asked, not bothering to question the wine.
"Near six thousand and more every day," Janos Slynt replied.
Six thousand drunkards, cravens, thugs, and fools who joined for the promise of bread, thought Ser Kevan.
"And they are armed as well?" Ser Kevan said.
"Yes, m'lord, the queen has set the whole of the street of steel to making weapons for us," Slynt said.
I cannot fault Cersei for that at least, thought Ser Kevan.
"And you are not using wildfire?" asked Ser Kevan.
"Yes, m'lord. The alchemists say that the stuff is easier to make," Ser Kevan gave him a severe look, "but we aren't usin' it. It's too dangerous, like you said,"
"Good" Ser Kevan left without saying anything more.
He and Slynt had gotten into arguments before about the queen authority and the use of wildfire. He had won, for the time being. He just prayed that he would win as handily against Stannis as he had against the queen.
