The Lord of the Eyrie is not happy. "I told you about the High Septon." He fumed. Before him sat Connington, with Lord Yronwood, the Master of Whispers Varys, and Ser Wilbur. Ronnel stood behind Ser Wilbur, trying not to meet Lord Harrold's eyes. "If you are with us, it will tell Lord Harrold that all the swords of the faith have taken Aegon's side now." Ser Wilbur had told him when he told Ronnel that he was to attend the meet. His intentions had worked, it seemed. "If it weren't for me, you'd be walking into battle with a knife pressing in your back."
"And we are grateful to you." Lord Connington said, "But we did not need your assistance, as it turned out. The gods had Aegon's back."
"Lancel Lannister has Aegon's back." Lord Harry retorted, "And his front and sides as well. He's captured your princess too." He said to Lord Yronwood, "Are you going to let the Lannisters walk over you again, Dorne?"
Lord Yronwood bristled, "No one walks over us, and that includes you as well. We do not want your Baratheon queen. The Seven Kingdoms belong to the Targaryens. Elia's son and Rhaegar's sister. If you don't want to burn in dragonfire, best bend the knee now."
"Lord Hardying himself doesn't want the Baratheon queen." Varys said soothingly to Lord Yronwood. He smiled at Harry. "She's run afoul of the wolfswood and set it on fire. The northmen want the stormlanders gone, but Lord Davos still hold Rickon Stark and he is answering the northmen with defiance. Then there is also the question of all the poor folk who lost their only shelter in winter in the deadly wildfire. The North will be licking its own wounds for a while, I think. You've spent your time in the riverlands visiting various lords along the trident, but none have risen for you." Ronnel saw a flash of fear flicker across Lord Harry's features, or was it triumph? Others didn't notice anything. "You are alone here, and will be so for a while. Unforeseen changes on the ground have come in our favor my lord, you must acknowledge that."
This is a man who does not like to acknowledge, Ronnel thought as Lord Harry acknowledged what Varys had said. "We are not unreasonable." Lord Jon assured him. "We are offering pardons to the Lannisters, and I think that will be enough. I see no reason not to annul Lady Sansa's marriage. The moment we appoint the Most Devout select a new High Septon, Lady Sansa will be free of her marriage vows, just like you had promised her."
"I had also promised her Cersei's head, and that of any other Lannister that I could find." Lord Harry said.
"She's taken the head of every single Frey." Varys said. "Let her be content with that. I remember her from when she was here. Even in the harshness of Joffrey's prison, she remained as gentle a soul as she ever was. I know she will welcome this peace, and see sense in it."
"She needs to rebuild the North." Jon Connington said bluntly before Lord Harry could say anything. "She can't do that in the midst of a war. The Blackfish will crush the smuggler, no doubt about that, but that will cost them the Iron Bank. Make peace with Aegon, and the first loan the Iron Bank issues will be to the North."
"Maybe she won't need any loans. White Harbor has been building warships for over a year. Maybe the Blackfish will descend upon you to exact payment in kind for your betrayal."
"We have a fleet as well, my lord." Lord Yronwood said coldly, "Two, once the Tyrells bend their knees. Lord Redwyn is itching to take revenge on the Ironmen for they havoc they played in the Reach and at his own home. Once he is done with Pyke, he will turn for the Stoney Shore. As for the fleet of King's Landing, their first visit will be to Gulltown. It takes time for the North to call its banners, and it will be worse if they are already busy at Winterfell with their own wars. Gulltown will have no help coming for it. And then we will sail onto White Harbor. But that's for later. The first blow will be on you. There will be more than fifty thousand swords turning on you in just a matter of days, unless you bend the knee."
Rage had filled Lord Harry's eyes as he listened to Anders Yronwood threaten him. But he swallowed it when Lord Yronwood mentioned the fifty thousand swords. Ronnel could see him trying to think of a retort that won't offend the fifty thousand swords, "And unless Lancel Lannister refuses your offers." He said finally, "Without me, you have only half the men he has."
"Lancel is a man of the Faith." Ser Wilbur said, "When he hears how the gods struck down His High Holiness for his support of Tommen, he will bend the knee to Aegon."
"So you think." there was a faint tremble in Lord Harry's mouth.
"So I know. Ser Lancel was dear to His High Holiness. He told me that the seven sent Ser Lancel visions. I never knew what to make of that claim. But now… We have heard tales of how on the march to Cider Hall, Lancel had a vision of him rescuing Aegon from the Kraken's clutches. That was why he almost killed his men trying to reach Cider Hall in time. He must've thought the gods were giving him a chance to save Tommen from Lord Connington, but now even he must see that the gods were guiding him to save the true king of the Seven Kingdoms in his hour of peril. Don't fear the dragons if you don't want to, they were brought down a century and half ago. But can you bring down the gods my lord? Aegon is the god's chosen, it is plain. Lancel will bend to the will of the Seven."
"He will bend to the fear of the Tyrell brothers killing him so they can get you to marry Margaery Tyrell to Aegon, you mean." Hardying's voice was bitter now. He shot Ronnel one last angry look and stood up, "My lords, it seems that the gods have truly favored you here. Though if I were you, I would consider that if it were the 'unforeseen changes on the ground' that elevated you, they could bring you down just the same." He left the room with angry strides to return to his camp outside the city. His guards followed him out.
Before today, Ronnel would have given anything to be on the council, to hear what was being said about the things up north and about Lord Harry. But when today it had been the last thing he'd wanted. "The boy is angry." Lord Varys said looking at the doorway through which Lord Hardying had disappeared, "Of course he is angry." Lord Connington said, "No fifteen year old boy likes to bend the knee in a battle. But he is more sensible than most, I think."
"Well, he is not the only one angry." Lord Yronwood said, "I must say, I agree with him on a lot of things, the Lannister pardons for one."
A strained look appeared on Lord Connington's face, "Which is why you must go to him tonight. Tell him that you've approached him in secret, and repeat to him what you just said to me."
Lord Yronwood narrowed his eyes, "And?"
"And, tell him that you and Hardying must see to it that after the peace the Lannisters have no place in Aegon's court, except for maybe as hostages. If he really cares that much about the North, be prepared to reserve some seats for them as well. That will help mollify Sansa Stark as well, I think. And make sure to again offer Princess Arianne's hand in marriage to him, if that is what he really wants." He stood up, "I want Aegon's court to be fresh my lord. These compromises are needs borne out of war, I like them no more than you do. But you must remember that there are many other ways to exact revenge on people than war. Be sure to tell Hardying that as well."
The council wound up. "Go back to the Maidenvault." Ser Wilbur told Ronnel. That was where the royal family had been moved after the High Septon had died. The swords of the faith were removed… and then brought back when Lord Connington realized that he could trust them. Ser Wilbur had known about the High Septon's plan to restore Tommen, and he believed that that was why the gods had killed him. He'd spread the tale in the ranks of the Warrior's Sons, and now they were devoted to Aegon and his hand like never before. Upon hearing about the High Septon's death, Lord Harry had increased his pace in case Lord Jon needed rescuing from the mob, but he had reached an indivisible city that had no need or place for him, at least not the place he wanted.
It was while he was crossing the drawbridge to the Middle Bailey that Ronnel felt someone's gaze boring into his bowed neck. Around him, the castle was emptier than it had been since Ronnel had arrived here. After the High Septon's death, Lord Connington had ordered everyone that was not someone out of the castle. Ronnel had only stayed on the entreaties of Margaery Tyrell, "Tommen needs his friend," She'd said to Jon Connington. Ronnel didn't know if he was glad to stay so he won't have to return to Lord Harry's camp a failure, or miserable that he still had to battle with the idea of killing Tommen daily. What he did know was that he wasn't going to be captured and exposed by Varys or his birds. Whoever was watching him was going to feel the brunt of all the anger Ronnel had been feeling toward himself.
Ronnel continued to walk as if nothing had happened. Calm as still water, he told himself. There was something in his hair, and he whipped his hand over it, turning his head in the process…
…and saw Hewitt leaning against the burned sept.
The skeleton of the sept stood beside the ruins of the Tower of Hand. Its walls were blackened by soot, made darker in the approaching night, and its crystal windows were shattered. There was nary a soul inside. People were afraid to even look at it, the silent sisters had to have been shown the whip to make them enter and collect the High Septon's body. And yet here Hewitt was, against a blackened red wall chewing a blade of grass. When he saw that Ronnel had seen him, he shoved off and turned toward the library, clearly wanting Ronnel to follow him.
Ronnel stared after him. How had he gotten in? They had counted everyone in Lord Harrold's party going in and out. How had he slipped away? Only when Hewitt slipped past the library tower and headed for the godswood did Ronnel make himself move.
Evening was approaching fast. The day had been one of the warmer ones, but the mists were thick in the godswood. The soil was wet on the ground from the snowmelt. Why hadn't Arya come here once since Ronnel had arrived at the Red Keep? It was nothing like the godswood at Wintefell, nor like the sprawling one she had practiced Needlework in at Harrenhal, but it was still a godswood. The place of her father's gods. Had she been Ronnel for so long that she had even started following the seven? She heard Hewitt's footsteps through the mists, though he must've thought he was being quiet, and turned to him. "What are you doing here?" He asked.
"What am I doing here?" Hewitt hissed, baring his yellow, rotting teeth, "What are you doing here? You came to kill the boy. Harry never thought you could, but then you became his food taster. You even have the poisons. Why is he still alive? Why is Harry having to bend the knee, when it should be the Lannisters begging for mercy for what they did to Jon Arryn?"
"You shouldn't speak like that." Ronnel hissed, "Varys's birds might be listening."
"There are no birds here," Hewitt looked around at the trees, "No rats neither. This is where the Stark girl came to plot her escape, Harry told me. Your secrets are safe here."
Ronnel blinked, trying to imagine Sansa Stark here. He often forgot that Arya Stark's sister had been here in this keep not so long ago. How had she ever survived here, where everybody was trying to kill each other? She had even killed a king here. And yet here Arya was, unable to kill Tommen and making her bend the knee to the Targaryens whom their father had helped dethrone. Maybe it was good that she hadn't visited the godswood yet. The old gods probably didn't even want to see her. "How did you get in the castle?"
"The Imp's pet had sent Shagga out scouting Harry. It was easy to convince him to let me join him. I didn't ride with the Moon Brothers the last time they were here. My sister was with child. 'He could be the lord of the Vale one day' the fool said to me." He spat, "Well, that's gone now, but Harry's still here. So I've come here to do what you couldn't."
"You can't kill Tommen." Ronnel said before he could stop himself. "He's not done anything to you. He is just a boy."
Hewitt frowned. "Boy or man, every man must die someday."
Valar Morghulis. It had been a while since Arya Stark had said that. "They will help the north, they said. Help them with loans and the wildfire, even give them seats on the council. They will send the Lannisters back to Casterley Rock. If Lord Harry bends the knee, the war will stop. No more children will die."
Hewitt's eyes narrowed, "Been sitting on their councils, have you? Well I've been with Harry. Sansa Stark's written to him that the Northmen won't have Aegon as their king. They are going to put Rickon Stark on his brother's throne, as soon as Lady Sansa gets him out of the Onion Knight's clutches. Harry wants me to kill Tommen and Margaery so Lancel Lannister will kill Aegon, leaving no king to oppose the King in the North."
A king in the north… Ronnel bit his lip. "Even if Tommen and Margaery die, the dornishmen will crown Myrcella so her dornish husband becomes the lord of the Seven kingdoms. There will be a king to oppose the Kingdom of the North."
Hewitt waved her objections aside, "A weak king. The Dornishmen and the Lannister may form an alliance, but it takes trust to fight beside each other against an enemy. With the Tyrells out of the picture, they won't be a threat to the North. So if you want a King in the North again, throw a rope down a window tonight. I'll be hiding in the sept."
A king in the north… Ronnel bit his lip. "Even if you get in the Maidenvault, you'll never get past the guards."
"I will." Hewitt said confidently, "You'll drug them. You don't have to kill them, just put them to sleep."
"You will cause a ruckus, wake the whole castle."
"Let them wake. As long as Tommen's dead…"
"You won't be able to get out. You will die too."
"Everybody dies someday, boy. Get that through your head. The only thing that matters is how you die. If I do this, I will know Harry will not forget about my sister." He flipped his hood over his head. "Tonight, at the hour of the Wolf. A rope. Otherwise it might be too late."
A rope, that was easy enough. But now he was going to have to watch Hewitt die as well as Tommen and Margaery, and then Aegon Targaryen will die as well. What if I don't drop the rope? But then what about Rickon and Robb's throne… The war will go on, he realized, and the children will keep dying, women will keep being raped. And worse, Aegon will have the entire might of the southron kingdoms to march against Rickon.
I can't do anything about Rickon getting the throne, but I can do something about Aegon. Ronnel looked at the heart tree. It was a great oak tree with no face, yet he could feel the old gods watching. He would have dropped to his knees and prayed, but he wasn't sure if the old gods would listen to a murderer. And he didn't want to find out if they did.
But it turned out that even tonight was too late. When Ronnel returned to his chambers adjoining those of Tommen's he found Queen Margaery waiting. Surprised, he dropped to his knees.
"Get up." The queen said kindly. "I am no longer royal. You don't have to kneel before me."
"Forgive me my lady," Ronnel said getting up, "But you are still Lady Tyrell."
Margaery looked like she was trying to forget that fact. "Tommen is asleep," She told him. "You should get some sleep too. Tonight you are going with him to Lancel's camp."
Ronnel was startled, "Tonight?"
"Yes." Margaery sounded sad. "They agreed to it in secret. Connington and Lancel. Tommen for Aegon. A King for a king. Not even my brothers know, and Lord Connington's sent Yronwood to Lord Hardying so the both of them will be too busy with each other to interfere in the exchange." She looked up at him, "Ser Wilbur will be coming with you, and a few guards, and Lord Connington himself."
"Not you?"
"Not me. Nor Cersei, though both of us wanted to. Ser Wilbur says Lord Connington can't trust that Loras and Garlan don't know about Lancel's plans, and that he fears that if I came, my brothers might betray Lancel once I was in their hands, and take Aegon back to their camp. I told them that their fears were baseless, that if Garlan and Loras haven't betrayed Lancel till now, they won't do it now. But they think that it was only because the High Septon held me." From her voice, it seemed that she herself believed it to some degree. "And as for Cersei, well, she is just mad. You should've seen her. I thought it might soothe her to know that her son was going to go to his uncle's camp, but she seems convinced that something terrible is going to happen to him." Even though she was calling Cersei mad, Ronnel couldn't help but notice that Margaery's own voice shook as she said this.
In the past few days, Margaery Tyrell had taken to talk to Ronnel about her woes. In her own way, she reminded him of Cersei. She had no ever present wine glass in her hands, neither the sleep deprived eyes, but the fear in her face was almost the same. She couldn't talk to her father, didn't want to talk to her father in fact, because she was convinced that if he found a way, he will contact her brothers and command them to betray Lancel Lannister so he could have his daughter made queen again. It revolted her, her own family, Ronnel could see. Nor did she want to talk to her cousins for fear of scaring them. So she seemed to have chosen Ronnel, ever since the High Septon had died and she had had to expose her plans to Lord Connington. "I just want this to end." She said now, taking Ronnel's hands in her own but talking to the air, "Varys said I might be able to choose my own destiny, but that was a lie. It was always a lie. I am sick of others deciding my life. Thrice wed and twice widowed. I just want to cherish what I have now, go live with my husband without being any bother to anyone. Is that too much to ask?"
"It will end soon." Ronnel lied to her. "You'll have your life. The battles will stop, and you and Tommen will go to your new home to Casterley Rock." He smiled at her and squeezed her hands, though he wasn't sure if she was listening. "You'll have a new family then. Your own family."
When she left his room, he made his way to the stables where Arya Stark had killed her first man. Ronnel had some killing of his own to do.
Some five hours later, Ser Wilbur came to his room to wake him up. After getting dressed for the ride, they met with Tommen at the door of the Maidenvault. Queen Margaery was present there as well. "Be brave." She told her husband, crouching over him so that they were face to face. "I will come to you very soon." Tommen nodded, seemingly on the verge of crying.
The night was pitch black. Torches glimmered like stars on the walls, but the darkness seemed to suck the light out of them. It was the hour of the Owl. Ronnel glanced at the walls surreptitiously. Only a few guards walked the parapets, their gazes directed outward. It seemed Lord Connington had sent the men to walk the walls, keep an eye on the Vale camp, so that they won't notice Tommen's party leaving the Red Keep.
Even so, they took care to not be conspicuous. Tommen was silently yawning as him and Ronnel followed Ser Wilbur to the outer yard. There, by the throne room, Jon Connington was waiting with ten guards, with only one torch between them. Ronnel couldn't help but notice that most of them were men of the Faith. He almost smiled at the irony of Connington trusting the High Sparrow's men. Only two wore the dancing griffin on their breast.
Though the light was sparse, Ronnel could see Lord Connington frowning as they walked toward him. "Damn it," He cursed, "Where are those bloody horses?" In the stables, Ronnel thought, but not the one you'd want. "Get in the throne room." Lord Connington hissed to Ser Wilbur, "I will go see what's taking them so long."
Two of the guards opened the door for them. The Great Hall was empty, save for the shadows. Four lanterns hung from four pillars. Before them, on the far end of the room sat the Iron Throne, a hulking pool of blackness with shining blades poking out. Stick them with the pointy end... Above the lanterns, the dragons hung. Ronnel remembered the times Arya Stark had come across them in some dungeon. Monsters made of shadow waiting to eat her. In the dull red glow of the lanterns, they looked even more menacing, their sharp teeth casting long shadows over the ceiling. She could feel Tommen trying not to look at them either of them.
But then he gasped softly as his gaze travelled to the shards of light falling through the blades on the steps of the Iron Throne. "What's that?" He asked Ronnel.
Ronnel glanced quickly over his shoulder. The guards and Ser Wilbur were busy peering out of the windows to see where Lord Connington had gone. This was his chance. He wasn't carrying needle. No blades were permitted around the king, and ven if Tommen was no longer a king, at least in the Red Keep, Lord Connington had still chosen to enforce the rule, with the only exception of the guards. But there were other ways to kill someone. "I think it is Ser Pounce." Ronnel said to Tommen, his voice dropped low so the men won't hear.
"He shouldn't go up there." Tommen said in an equally low voice, "If he falls, he might die."
Or he might not. "Go and get him down." Ronnel suggested urgently.
Tommen glanced uncertainly toward Ser Wilbur, "I- I don't think…"
"What if he falls on one of the blades. Go bring him down, before he hurts himself. Maybe they will let you take him with you. Maybe we could hide him in our saddles."
Tommen looked back at the kitten jumping slowly up the steps, sniffing at the shadows and rubbing up against the cold iron, "I don't know." He looked at Ronnel, "I am afraid."
His dreams. "I'll come with you." Ronnel took his hand and squeezed much the same way he had his wife's. "Let it be your last time on the throne. Then you can become the Lord of Casterley Rock. The Lord of Casterley Rock can't be afraid of nightmares."
Tommen looked back at Ser Pounce. "Ok." He whispered. He glanced back again, to make sure that the guards weren't watching. "If they see, they'll be angry."
"They won't see." Ronnel promised. He started following Tommen as the king tiptoed forward.
When they reached the base of the stairs, Tommen glanced back at Ronnel. He seemed torn between his fear and the fact that a lowborn like Ronnel should never be so near the Iron Throne, let alone climb it. But Ronnel gave him a reassuring smile, and Tommen continued. As they climbed the steps, Ronnel took off his cloak. Underneath, he was wearing the doublet upside down, the stitching on it unrecognizable in this light. Then he took off his face, making a trickle of blood run down Arya Stark's cheek.
The steps felt cold to Arya's feet even through her boots. The pointy ends poked into empty air on the both sides of them. Arya wrapped her cloak around her forearm, making it as small as possible. Stick them with the pointy end… She wished she could forget the phrase. She didn't want to think of Jon right now.
When they were just a step or two from the kitten prancing around on the seat, a shout rang across the length of the Great Hall. "Hey" Lord Connington had returned, horses with him from the stables near Meagor's Holdfast.
Tommen jumped in fright. Arya sidled up to him and put a hand on his shoulder to form a firm grip. She turned him to face her, and pushed with her cloaked hand. Stepping back, Tommen gave a soft gasp as the jagged metal sunk into his back. Arya didn't stop pushing until she felt blood her hands in the front. Tommen made a soft, gurgling sound, but Arya refused to look away. "Valar Morghulis." She said as the light went out of Tommen's surprised eyes.
She heard horrified gasps coming from down on the floor. She whirled and ran down the stairs, leaving Tommen hanging between the blades, but Lord Connington was at the base of the stairs, his sword shining in his hand. Ser Wilbur was hard at his heels. Arya stopped indecisively, but only until they got a good look at her face, and her upside down clothes. She turned back and ran up the stairs. A couple of steps up, and Ser Pounce jumped down on the two knights. Arya could hear them colliding with the twisted metal and barbs on their way down, their armor screeching in protest.
Turning to her left, Arya put her foot on a barb poking out of a side, and jumped as hard as she could. Twisting into a ball in midair, she unrolled and landed perfectly on the ground some twelve feet below, nimble as a as a cat. The two guards had run up the Iron Throne to catch her, but they didn't dare to make the jump, wearing all the armor they had. Swift as a deer, Arya was out of the King's Door at the back and into the gardens before they could get down the steps or Lord Connington could get to his feet.
Running through Myrcella's gardens, Arya took off her cloak and flung it over her back. She cinched it tight around her throat just as she entered the godswood, her eyes darting to see if Hewitt was there. Either he wasn't, or it was too dark that she couldn't see him. Arya hoped it was the former. She fell face down on the ground, coming only to a stop after rolling a couple of times.
Lord Connington was the first to arrive, a torch in his hand. But he took one look at Ronnel's face, and cursed and continued onward. Ser Wilbur knelt by him. Of the other two guards, there was no sign. Maybe they were seeing if they could save Tommen. "What are you doing here?" Ser Wilbur asked him.
"I had to piss." Ronnel said, breathing hard. "Who was that that was running? They bowled me over."
Ser Wilbur didn't answer, instead of looking at Lord Connington's torch disappearing into the woods. They heard him cry out for guards. "Go back to the Maidenvault." Ser Wilbur said before he got up and ran after Lord Connington.
Some part of Ronnel wanted to go back to the Throne room, to look upon the boy he had killed. But the night wasn't over yet. He followed the disappearing torches to the Middle Bailey, and turned for the alley beside the Maidenvault.
Hewitt was waiting there, crouching in a shadow. "What's happened?" He asked when he saw Ronnel wandering in the dark, "Who are they looking for?"
"Not you." Ronnel told him, "Come with me, I will get you inside the Maidenvault."
Before the ruins of the Castle Sept and the Tower of Hand was a flurry of guards running around, looking for something that their lord only described as a boy. One guard even turned to Ronnel, pointing him out to Lord Connington. But the Griffing Lord snapped, "Not him, fool," And that was that. Head bowed and with hasty steps, Ronnel entered the confused Maidenvault with Hewitt. People called out to him, but he didn't stay his course.
Outside the queen's room, Ronnel told Hewitt to wait for him. "If someone asks, you are looking for the boy." He said to him. He knocked on Margaery's door.
"What's happened?" The queen asked him asked with a white face as if she was anticipating the worst. "They've killed Tommen." Ronnel said, his mouth twisting with anger and grief.
His expressions were nothing compared to that of Margaery Tyrell's. "But- What about Ser Wilbur? What about Jon Connington? They promised." Tears formed in her eyes, "He was so little, just a boy. Who would do such a thing? Was it Hardying?"
"There are no Hardying men in the castle. It could just as well have been Lord Yronwood." Ronnel took a shuddering breath. "He wasn't happy with the Lannister pardons, and that Aegon had refused to marry his dornish princess."
Margaery Tyrell closed her eyes. "He wants the throne for Myrcella, so Dorne could get it." She sank to the floor, her hair in her hands, pulling, and let out a scream of anger and frustration, "The Throne. The Throne. The Throne." She said, her voice rising every time she said throne, "Everybody wants the Throne. Why, I could never fathom. Haven't they seen what happens to whoever sits the fucking throne?"
"I don't think it will stop with just Tommen, your grace." Ronnel said, fear in his voice. "If he wants your brothers to let Lord Lancel kill Aegon, he must anger them first, and take away their reason for keeping him alive. I think your life will be the one he will seek next."
Margaery Tyrell paled even more, if that was possible. "Connington won't let him."
"He will try, but if Yronwood uses a hidden knife again, like he did tonight, he might not be able to stop him." Ronnel took a step forward, "And even Lord Connington won't confront Yronwood openly about it. He wouldn't want to lose Dorne from his side." He paused for a bit, as if considering something, "And even if he does take that chance your grace, he will contact your brothers himself, to make a deal with them to make you queen so that Aegon lives." Margaery Tyrell didn't know about Daenerys Targaryen, Ronnel was certain. The High Septon had never told her. She still believed that Aegon might marry her if it meant an alliance. "Lord Connington might even kill Myrcella to take away Yronwood's motivations."
"They are going to kill each other like dogs and wolves, aren't they? They are going to soak the Red Keep in their blood with their greed." She threw herself on her bed and covered her face in her hands, shaking her head and speaking through her fingers to the bedspread, "I never wanted this. Any of this. I never wanted to be queen, not even when my father said that Renly could never lose. And now that I've seen what it does… I don't want to end up like Cersei, frightened out of my wits convinced that the next breath my child takes will be his last. I can't marry Aegon, I can't… I can't…"
"I can help you." Ronnel said, but she seemed not to hear. "I can get you to the Vale camp." He said a bit louder.
She looked at him. "The vale camp?"
"I have a friend in the Warrior's Sons. He wants to go to his rightful lord, now that the High Sparrow is dead. He'd sought me out after the His High Holiness died, after he learned that I had been to Maidenpool to meet with Lord Harry. He wanted to know what kind of a man the new lord of the Eyrie is. He was one of the guards that Lord Jon brought with him tonight. He is outside right now. You can leave the castle with him, dressed like a knight. No one will be paying attention, they will think it is just two guards going out to the wall on someone's order. You can then ask for protection for Lord Hardying."
In her fright and anxiety, Margaery Tyrell didn't question when did Ronnel had time to think all this, "But- why Hardying? It might be him that's killed Tommen." She asked instead.
"No, he couldn't have." There was strong conviction in Ronnel's voice, "When we were in Maidenpool, he said to Ser Loras that you were a friend to Sansa Stark when she was in the Red Keep, and that she told him to make peace with you. He refused Ser Loras at Maidenpool, that he won't bend the knee to the Lannisters, not even for the price of Myrcella's hand in marriage, but he never told Lord Connington about the meet, even while negotiating terms of surrender. Lord Connington only found out about Ser Loras when Ser Wilbur told him."
Margaery Tyrell was still uncertain, afraid. "I don't think…"
"There is no time to think, your grace. Lord Yronwood means to kill you. He must have been planning this for a long time, but Lord Connington forced his hand tonight when he tried to exchange Aegon for Tommen. As for Connington, he will make you queen." Ronnel was spewing more lies in a breath than Arya Stark had in her entire lifetime, but the fact that Margaery Tyrell believed half of them made the job far easier, "Hewitt could get you to your brother's camp, but they might themselves force you to marry Aegon." Margaery tried to deny it now, but Ronnel spoke over her half-convinced protests, "But if you went to Lord Hardying, you could send messengers to your brothers, telling them to give up Aegon and the Lannisters and end the war." Of course, Lord Hardying won't let any messenger go to save Aegon, but Margaery didn't need to know that. "You don't have to be queen then, or dead. Tommen might be lost, but you aren't. I couldn't help him, but please your grace, let me help you. If you can't trust in Harrold Hardying, trust in your friend Lady Sansa, who sent him here."
That seemed to convince her. They dressed her in Tommen's armor, with the stitching and marks ripped out. "You were supposed to kill her." Hewitt hissed at him when they were alone, hacking at Tommen's armor. "I've already killed Tommen." Ronnel hissed back, "Ask Lord Harry, and he will tell you that a hostage is better than a dead body."
Their preparations went, for the most part undisturbed. Some guards poked their head in, to see if the boy that had killed Tommen was hiding here. Margaery hid in the bath and Ronnel pointed toward Hewitt and said that he had already searched the queen's chambers. Ser Wilbur also came to see Margaery, Ronnel told him that she had gone to see Tommen's body. Margaery's cousins and father wanted to see her, but all they heard was that she had gone to see Lord Connington, or Ser Wilbur, or Tommen's body, and will come back soon. They had time, but not much. What Ronnel was most afraid was that some of Varys's birds that hid in the walls had heard their conversation, and would go and tell him.
But if they did, the eunuch didn't appear, and in short time, the Tyrell queen was done and ready. Margaery had bound her long brown curls in a bun behind her head before she put on a helm. Tommen's gorget fit her and hid her neck, but his newest breastplate was a little short. They put a chainmail byrnie on her shoulders that almost reached her knees. Under those she wore roughspun breeches and a tassel belted at the waist. All this they wrapped in one of Hewitt's cloaks. Ronnel thought she looked ridiculous, especially the iron shoos she wore to hide her delicate feet, but Hewitt assured them that incomplete and mismatched armor was all too common in lowly scouts.
Margaery Tyrell seemed afraid of the lice ridden wildling, but she hid her fear bravely. When she thanked him for helping her, Ronnel asked himself what he was doing. She reminded him so much of Sansa Stark, but with a level head and some wits. They were exploiting her trust knowing they will betray it later on, just like the Lannisters had done to Sansa. Was Arya no better than a Cersei? And Cersei hadn't even killed someone the way Arya had killed Tommen.
But it was too late to turn back now. Hewitt had gone to find them horses, he had taken a purse of gold from Margaery to persuade one of his wildling friend to relinquish his horse, and he was back now with two. Ronnel couldn't go, the guards knew him, and might alert someone. So it was only Margaery Tyrell and Hewitt that mounted up in the outer yard. "Don't speak to anyone." Ronnel heard Hewitt mutter to her, "and stay close to me." Ahorse, clad in steel and carrying a sword, Margaery Tyrell looked no longer ridiculous, but a true knight herself. Yet Ronnel could sense her fear in the way she shivered and looked at the people swarming around. Hopefully, to anyone else it will look like an effect of the cold of the early morning. But in the busy outer yard, filled with soldiers' intent on going out to save Aegon Targaryen from Lancel Lannister's wrath, no one spared Hewitt and his companion another glance. The two of them made their way to a gaggle of Stone Crows that was forming up near the gates. In short order, as the clouds started to become visible in the sky, they rode out of the Red Keep.
"Ronnel." A voice rang across the yard. Ser Wilbur was making his way toward him, "Where is Lady Margaery, do you know?"
"I came looking for her." Ronnel told him as another column rode past him to the gate, gold cloaks this time, "I didn't want to stay in Tommen's rooms anymore."
While the castle agreed that it was so very sad that Tommen had died, and that someone should go and tell his wife, and comfort her even, they all had better things to do, like guard the walls or hand out spears and ready the awakened horses. So it took them another half an hour to notice that the dead king's wife was missing. She hadn't been seen in the Maidenvault since the morning, she hadn't gone to see her husband's body, her father didn't know where she was, neither did her guards.
Lord Connington it seemed had realized that he had better make a deal with the Tyrell brothers at last. "Maybe Aegon could have two wives, he said." Ser Wilbur told Ronnel. But now with it seeming like Margaery Tyrell had died herself, or worse, had killed her husband and taken herself out of the castle to go to her brothers, he had no choice but to sound for battle. "Lancel had ridden ahead of the army for the hostage exchange, and he will be the one to catch her." Ser Wilbur told Ronnel, though Ronnel could see that he was having trouble believing that Margaery Tyrell will kill Tommen. "No matter what tale she spins for him," He said, "Lancel is not foolish enough to let her reach her brothers. And if he finds out what happened to Tommen, that is it for Aegon."
The sun had passed the zenith when the other army appeared on the horizon. Ronnel was with Ser Wilbur at the Lion Gate, he had asked to squire for him in this battle. They stood with Lord Connington, guarding him. All around them were the Swords of the Faith. Lord Connington knew that the dornishmen will arrest him as soon as they confirmed that Aegon was dead, so he had kept most of them on the northern walls, facing Lord Harrold's camp. Down below, Ser Damon Sand had drawn up a force of roughly six thousand men. He was one the few dornishmen that Lord Connington seemed to trust to at least try to save Aegon. He had with him his own few dornishmen, the stormlanders under Lord Selmy, and the Golden Company, to make a last ditch effort to rescue Aegon in case he wasn't already dead.
The Lannister army inched slowly forward, a steady march across the snowy fields. In the foremost lines, Ronnel thought he could see elephants walking ponderously. The Lannister lines seemingly kept coming, without end. There were forty thousand of them, Ronnel knew. To their right, in the north, Lord Harrold was forming his own battle fronts. Ronnel saw three blocks, the long but thin van, the thick center, and a rear, with archers flanking them from both sides.
Above them all, clouds reigned from horizon to horizon, but they were misshapen, dark in some place, and so thin in others that sunlight seemed to seep through like dust grains falling. It was a multitude of colors up there, orange and yellow to grey and dark, as if some heavenly battle was being raged there as well. Looking at it made you realize how high the ceiling of the world was. Under this ceiling, the armies looked like swarm of ants.
It was when the first arrows from Lord Hardying's army took to the air that a commotion reached Ronnel's ears. The entire of the Lannister army was in the view now, elephants charging toward Lord Harrold and cautious lines facing the walls of King's Landing. But still Lord Connington turned. Behind them stood Lord Varys, with Cersei Lannister beside him. "Hear her out." Lord Varys said to Jon Connington.
The Queen's eyes were puffy from crying. But they had no trace of the drink, she seemed stone sober. Instead they were wild with rage and pain. When she spoke to Ser Wilbur and Lord Connington, her voice was hoarse, as if she had screamed really loudly sometime before.
Even hoarse though, her voice was full of venom, "You killed my son." She accused Ser Wilbur and Lord Connington. Ser Wilbur looked as if he wished he was dead, but Lord Connington was in a hurry. "I have a battle to fight." He said to her, "If you think I have wronged you, don't waste your breath with accusations. The gods are about to punish me anyways."
"You'd deserve it, but I can't allow that." To everyone's shock, Cersei Lannister fell to her knees. "Please my lord, when Lancel hears of Tommen's death, he will take his revenge on Aegon, knowing that the Dornishmen will be eager to crown my Myrcella. I can't let that happen. Lord Uller has her surrounded by his swords, so nothing happens to her the way it happened to my son. Both of my sons." Her mouth twisted, "But he can't protect her forever. I don't want a golden shroud for my daughter. Please my lord, let me go to Lancel. I will tell him to bend the knee, he will listen to me, I am his queen. I will make him give you your Aegon, and we will go back to Casterley Rock, never to bother you again. Please my lord, show mercy on me and my daughter, I can't let her be a queen. Let me save your king."
They gave her a horse, and a white flag. Ser Wilbur rode with her, Ronnel would have come too, but Ser Wilbur forbade it. "No point in sending three when two can do the job just as well. An arrow might get you." As the lines below parted to make way for the duo, Ronnel reached out to Cersei's horse as a last effort, to take it the way he had taken Tommen's kittens, and various cats and pigeons before. But the horse's mind was powerful, it kicked the fumbling boy out as soon as it entered, making him cry out even. When he opened his eyes, Ronnel saw that the horse had reared up as well, but Cersei managed to hold it fast.
When he had first arrived at the Red Keep, Ronnel had seen the black tomcat that Arya Stark had chased once for Syrio Forel. He had tried to enter his mind as well, but the cat had resisted like nothing else, screaming and scratching at himself in the middle of the yard like murder. His cries had frightened Ronnel, and he had stopped his efforts, not wanting to hurt the animal even more. Now he wished he had. As he looked over the parapet, Ronnel could do nothing but watch as the lioness of the Rock rode forward with only Ser Wilbur at her side, driving her horse as hard as she could, her skirts bellowing behind her and the white flag snapping overhead, straight ahead at the army bristling with steel without any fear for her own life whatsoever.
Let an arrow hit her, let an arrow hit her, Arya thought, but none did. Ser Illyn, Ser Meryn, Cersei, her mind screamed, Cersei, Cersei, Cersei. Why hadn't she killed her when she had the chance? Helplessly, she watched as Cersei Lannister disappeared into the lines of the of the Tyrell spearmen. The walls of King's Landing waited with bated breath. To their right, Lord Harry's van had merged into the enemy lines, islands around the dying elephans, and now the center was marching forward, a mailed fist of warhorses with foot marching behind. Yet no sword rode from King's Landing to their aid.
And then five figures emerged from the Tyrell lines facing the walls of King's Landing. The men along the walls cheered, while Ronnel's heart sank. Under the blazing sky, they rode hard toward the City walls. In the middle was a man with silvery white hair, beside him was Cersei still clutching her flag. Ser Wilbur rode on her other side, while a man with a white cloak rode on the king's other side, with another woman beside him.
On the wall, beside Ronnel, Lord Connington turned toward Ser Damon. "Go to the Old Gate, and lead your dornishmen out." He said in a grave but firm voice, "Take Hardying alive if you can."
