5th Month of 299 A.C. Outside King's Landing
Lord Durran Cafferen
It was funny, Durran thought, that when last the rightful King had been challenged his grandfather had fought for the Targaryens and then sided with the usurper when he had lost at Summerhall. The Baratheons had long been a thorn in Durran's family's side for as long as he could remember, Lord Steffon had been a good man he knew that much from his father's words, but his son Renly, well Renly had been a fool. Durran had only sided with him because the rest of the Stormlands had been converging on him and he had not wanted to face the tide and be defeated. Renly had been a fool and a Tyrell puppet he would never have held the support of the Stormlands for long, and then there had been Stannis. Durran knew Stannis had been a Kinslayer, could see it in his eyes, and so he had sided with the man merely because his cousin had told him that it would be good to have something to bring to the King. Bryce was a smart lad, even if he was a bit odd. And now here he was with his cousins, Grandison and Fell as well as that oath Florent, as they were camped outside the city preparing for the inevitable. Well not camped exactly, more like on horseback waiting for the inevitable.
Durran looks at Harlan Grandison, his cousin and best friend and says. "We've got a limited amount of time for this to work Harlan. If it does not then we might well be saying goodbye to our freedom. Are you sure Florent does not know what is about to happen?"
His cousin, the Lord of Grandview smiles a winning smile at him and responds. "I am sure of it Durran, the fool won't know what has happened until it is too late. Fell has his men in place, we shall be fine."
Durran nods. "I just don't want things to end badly that is all. We are risking a lot by doing this, if it goes wrong we are done for. Stannis won't be willing to let us back in."
His cousin snorts then. "Stannis won't have a leg to stand on when this is done. Trust me cousin, the King will need to accept our men, otherwise he will be done for."
Durran falls silent then, thinking about the things that have led them to this moment. Renly was not the right choice for King, he was a puppet of the worst kind, a Tyrell puppet a man who would not think without Loras Tyrell doing those things to him in the privacy of his chambers. Margaery Tyrell was still a maiden, Durran knew that because she had rebuffed his cousin enough times for it to be obvious. Stannis, well that mad man was exactly that, too mad to serve anyone any good, and besides he did not hold the rightful claim to the throne. King Joffrey did, as King Robert's heir, and the heir of the conqueror, Durran knew it was right to support him, and yet still he felt nervous. What if the King was mad? Almost as if sensing his thoughts his cousin turns to him and whispers. "Be patient cousin, the King is coming now."
Durran wants to ask how his cousin knows, but then he too sees a figure, nay figures coming into view on the wall before them. And sure enough there is the King, flanked by three Kingsguard and the Stark boy with his wolf. "Who goes there?" the King calls out, his voice strong and commanding.
Durran moves his horse forward, chosen to speak for their group. "Lord Durran Cafferen, Lord Harlan Grandison and Lord Borros Fell Your Grace. We have come to speak with you."
The King seems bemused then. "And why pray tell have you come with this force of men if you merely wished to speak with me? I had heard you were with Stannis, my whore of an uncle."
Durran's brow creases at the odd choice of wording there, but he replies all the same. "It was a ruse Your Grace. We sided with Stannis to gain information so that we might bring it to you and make sure that the rightful King was protected and knowledgeable about what was to come."
"And how do I know that you are trustworthy? You fought for my other uncle as well did you not?" the King responds.
Durran swallows, feeling the sweat begin to run down his face, he wishes that he had decided against wearing such heavy armour now, but still, he cannot explain that to the King and so he takes a breath before saying. "We have come with a gift Your Grace, something to show our loyalty to you."
Durran hears the curiosity in the King's voice then and he closes his eyes momentarily hoping that Fell managed to pull it off. "And what thing is this?"
At that moment there is a large bang and then the sound of a scuffle reaches them, before silence falls around them, Durran can feel his heart hammering in his chest, wondering where Fell is and whether this has gone pear shaped. Eventually though he sees the banners of House Fell approaching he feels himself relax slightly, the closer they come the more relaxed he feels and so he says. "Your Grace, might I present to you Ser Alkeyne Florent, the heir to Brightwater Keep and his cousin Ser Imry Florent, both were to serve as commanders in Stannis's army but we brought them here with us as proof of our loyalty."
The King turns to speak with his companion Snow, and then turns back to Durran and calls out. "Well, are they alive or dead?"
Durran looks at the forms before him, which Fell's men had thrown to the ground, he sees Imry is dead his body not moving, but Alkeyne is, he stares up at Durran with loathing. "Alkeyne is alive Your Grace."
There is nothing but silence then and Durran fears that they have missed their chance, but then the King moves away from the edge of the wall and seems to disappear for a moment, before the gate opens up and he comes riding out with his Kingsguard and Snow and the direwolf at his side. The King stops before him, and Durran can see a hungry look in his eye when he says. "Kill him and then I will know you for true."
Durran nods, he does not hesitate, he knows that their future depends on him doing this, dismounting from his horse, he takes his sword from a squire and moves toward Alkeyne, the man is just about stirring his mouth is broken, but his words are clear. "Traitor." he murmurs.
Durran feels white hot anger flow through him then. "I am no traitor. Long Live the King!" he bellows that before swinging his sword in a great arc and removing Florent's heads from his shoulders. The man's head falls to the floor, and Durran turns toward the King then, he places his sword in the ground and gets to one knee. "From this day forward, my sword is yours Your Grace." He hears it echoed by his and Grandison and Fell men and he feels a shiver run down his spine.
