JAIME
The courtyard of Harrenhal was large enough to hold a battle in, and it seemed to Jaime as he stepped out into it, that was exactly what was happening there right now. Men darted back and forth, shouting at each other, as torches blazed, and occasionally, someone threw a stone, or fired a crossbow. Who are they firing them at? I can see no one here but us, Jaime found himself wondering as he strode forward, sword in hand. It felt good to have a weapon again, as if a part of him he hadn't realized he was missing had been restored. Indeed, all of this felt good, the way it hadn't since he'd discovered what taking a white cloak from Aerys had really meant. It brought to mind riding against the Kingswood Brotherhood. He shut his eyes, and took a deep breath, taking in the smell of battle.
"Oy! Oy! Move or be trampled, fool!" came a loud shout. Jaime heard the clatter of hooves on the grounds behind him and swiftly moved out of the rider's way. The horse passed quickly by him, its rider laughing uproariously. "Oh, Kingslayer!" said Barb Bracken, grinning at him in her hunting leathers. "I did not recognize you, seated from on high! Come out to hunt our forsworn guests? Best be quick, or there will be none left for you! My men are eager to please!" She threw her head back and laughed, then regarded him for a moment. "Though I must admit I've no man so pretty as you among them."
Jaime felt very glad that it was a dark night or else he feared that Barbra might have seen his cheeks go red. "No," he managed to mutter. "Nor any man so deadly."
"Oh, I find that folks die no matter who it is that sticks them with something sharp," said Barbra with a smile. "Weapons are quite equitable that way."
Jaime glanced away. "You should not be here," he declared. "It is dangerous for a lady."
Barbara smiled at that, a grin that showed her teeth. Her eyeteeth were very large, Jaime realized, and made her look half a beast when she showed them. "Oh, la, ser. I'm no stranger to the sight of blood. I often accompany my lord father on hunts, and have even taken the stag and yes, the boar on occasion." A dark chuckle came to her lips. "Why just prior to that little tourney here, we came upon a few poachers during a hunt. Father was for hanging them, but I prevailed on his kindness." She raised a dark eyebrow at Jaime, eyes gleaming in the night. "It seemed to me such a shame to not let the hounds have some exercise, after getting them riled so." She threw her head back and laughed. "Oh, that was a jolly time!"
Jaime turned, glaring. "For you, I suppose. And this is another jolly time, no doubt. So, if you want to bandy words about, find someone else. I have men to kill."
"Oh, such a shame," muttered Barbara. "You are proving so amusing to play with-a new sport, and one who knows when he's been hit." She gave a shrug. "Still, if you wish to kill men - well, there are three or so who've holed up in the Wailing Tower, and will not come out. A few more are at the Tower of Ghosts. And the prisoners are apparently out, with that Lord Mormont fellow you seem so fond of going after them. So if it's blood you want, go one way or the other."
"Which way will you be going?" asked Jaime, narrowing his eyes.
"The Wailing Tower," laughed Barbara. "Dear Ser Ronald's promised some fine Arbor Gold will be cracked open when his men capture their prey, and it has been so long since I've had that at my lips." She ran her pink little tongue over her teeth, like a cat tasting cream.
"Then I'm for the Tower of Ghosts," he stated, striding away.
"Your choice," said Barbara as he marched away. "I fear Lord Addam has nothing so tasty to wet your lips with, Kingslayer." And then with a clatter of hooves and another booming laugh, she was off in another direction.
It was a long walk to the Tower of Ghosts, which lay by the ruins of the massive Sept Harren the Black had built and that Aegon the Conqueror had destroyed. A group of scattered Blackwood men worked alongside Lord Addam Vance's retinue throwing stones at the tower's windows, with little apparent effect. Lord Addam stood there, a satisfied look on his handsome block of a face, while his young son Karyl stood nearby, his cloak pulled up as far as he could manage to hide the wine-stain birthmark on his cheek. The pair regarded him with badly hidden surprise as he approached. "Ser Jaime," muttered Lord Addam. He smiled uneasily and managed a half-bow. "An honor to have you with us." He glanced at his son, frowning, then slapped him on the shoulder. "Karyl! Greet Ser Jaime!"
The young boy gave an awkward nod. "Hello, Ser." He stared a moment, as if trying to find something to say in Jaime's face. "The night is dark, is not?"
Jaime nodded. "Very dark," he agreed. He briefly considered continuing in this vein, and found that this option actually ranked somewhat below suicide. "I am here to help."
Lord Addam nodded. "I thank you for the thought, Ser Jaime, but I have the matter well in hand." A satisfied smile came to his face. "We should flush the vermin out shortly, and then, well, they shall see."
"Is that why your men are... throwing stones at the tower windows?" asked Jaime quietly,
"We would be using burning pitch, but the seneschal forbade us," chirped up Karyl.
"A bloody fool!" snapped Lord Addam, a frown screwing up his handsome features. "I tell you, what is a bit of burning pitch in this place?" He gave a savage shake of his head. "But some men..." He waved his hand in a dissatisfied manner, then simply stared balefully at the tower. "Ahh, well, we'll get them out soon."
Jaime watched another stone go clattering against the tower wall, and then bounce off it impotently. "Perhaps... perhaps you should send someone in there, to capture the men."
Lord Addam turned to regard him, his eyes dull bits of glass. "We've tried that. The blasted tower's too big. They run and hide and ambush my men, so we come out looking like fools." He nodded to himself. "No, we must simply make things so unbearable for them, they will come out." A few more stones clattered against the tower. Lord Addam gave another satisfied nod, and gestured for his men to throw more stones.
Jaime considered matters, and decided to issue his previous suggestion more forcefully. "Lord Addam - perhaps if I slipped into the tower by myself, I could... capture some of them, and send the rest out here."
Lord Addam considered the matter carefully, though something about the man's expression caused Jaime to suspect he considered many such things carefully, such as breakfast, and putting on his boots. "Well," said Lord Addam at last, "your life is in the hands of the Gods, Ser Jaime, and as such it would be a shame not to use it in Their service." He glanced up at the heavens. "'Our Eyes are on the World Above', after all." Lord Addam placed a heavy hand on Jaime's shoulder. "Gird yourself for battle, lad. And fight with honor, for the right."
Jaime gave a sharp nod and turned away, glancing at the tower. Rushing to its side, he passed a few bored Vance men idly tossing stones, and entered through a cracked and ruined doorway. He darted forward, towards a unsteady looking stairway, and immediately regretted it, as the slab of rock he stepped on tottered and fell away. As he looked around for a clearer path, he realized how dark it was in the room. He could barely make out his hand in front of his face, much less the direction in which to travel. Suddenly, he thought he saw a light coming from out of the darkness. He readied his sword. "I can see you!" he declared. "I am armed!"
"And I am not," answered the flat young voice. A young girl wearing a voluminous cloak and holding a lantern stepped into his view. She stared at him a moment. "Kingslayer. What are you doing here?"
Jaime winced at being recognized so readily, especially by someone who he could not identify himself. Not that the cloak helps. I can barely make out her face. "I could ask you the same question, girl."
"Walking," said the girl bluntly. "There is something I wanted to see." She yawned and looked around the room. "It wasn't you. I see I have to go further to see it." She turned and began to walk away.
"It seems a bit dangerous for a young woman to walk here like this," he said loudly, hoping she wouldn't take the light with her.
"Not for me," answered the girl nonchalantly. "Never for me."
"Wait!" he cried out. Thankfully she stopped, at least for a moment. "I... could you help me find my way? I need some light!"
The girl stood there for a moment, and then suddenly began to nod. "Yes. Yes. I agree." She turned. "Come walk with me, Kingslayer. I've decided you might prove amusing company for the moment." Jaime nervously stepped forward, already feeling some apprehension about this strange girl who knew him, but who he did not know, who went for walks in the middle of small battles in a haunted castle without fear, and who seemed to talk to people who were not there. But then, he thought, stepping to her side, what other choices do I have? "Stay by my side, and always at my side" said the girl, as he reached her, "never ahead of me, nor behind me. And when I say our paths have parted, then so they have - you leave my side, and walk by it no more." Jaime managed an awkward nod at this, making certain to keep up with the girl's strangely quick step. The pair reached a small stairway together, which they began to climb together, in relative silence.
Jaime glanced at his companion, trying to see if he could finally place her. He had little success - her face remained mostly hidden in the folds of her cloak, his eyes only catching clear glimpses of its lower portions. Her lips, he realized with a dull surprise, were a dark blue. That stirred something in his memory, and he recalled his uncle Geri's tales of the Qartheen warlocks, who had such lips. He wondered if the girl was one, but had to dismiss it. She doesn't sound like a Qartheeni, after all, no matter the color of her lips, and what would a warlock be doing here, now?
"Tell me, Kingslayer," she said suddenly, as they went up a floor, "do you believe in the Seven?"
Jaime fumbled for an answer to this strange question. "I am a knight sworn to their service."
He thought he saw the dark blue lips form into a sarcastic smile at that. "Harren the Black had his septon pray in the Sept here when Aegon came, pray for deliverance. And the septon did. He was praying when Balerion swooped down, bringing fire and death."
Jaime felt a shiver at that. "Harren was an unbeliever," he whispered.
"His septon wasn't," noted the girl. She paused a moment, and glanced around. "Here is where we part ways, Kingslayer." She gestured over towards a hall. "Head that way, and you will find what you seek. Or it shall find you." She gave a dismissive shrug. "I don't particularly care for the distinction, but you might."
Jaime turned and nodded and began to head where she'd indicated. But as he did so it gripped him how foolish and craven he was being, leaving a young girl alone, in this place, at this time. He turned back to the stairway, hoping to perhaps talk her into staying with him.
The stairway they had climbed was not there, only a hole where one might have been in the past. Glancing up he saw the girl's light making its way up stairs that faded away as she passed. Her voice came, clear in the darkness. "I told you, Kingslayer, our ways have parted. And I told you, Kingslayer, there's no danger in Harrenhal for me. So be on your way." A low chuckle reached his ears as he turned away, though perhaps it was only his imagination.
This place is cursed - fell and ghost-haunted, he thought, darting down the hall. Gods know what just happened here. He shuddered slightly, and stopped. The two men in armor standing in the hallway stared at him, and readied their weapons. Jaime took a deep breath, and raised his sword.
