Olenna's mood was sombre as she entered the Sept of Queen Naerys, where the new High Septon was about to preach. She had hand-picked the man, a fervent partisan of House Tyrell. The man was as much a bigot as the late High Sparrow, but sensible enough not to offend the family upon whose favour he depended. She glanced at Margaery and Tommen, sitting beside her in the pew. Gods above! How she had misjudged her granddaughter. The girl was as much a weakling as her husband after all. She had even had the nerve to say that if she wasn't Queen, she'd be in Daenerys' camp. Olenna had reminded her that she'd be burned on a pyre if she fell into the Dragon Bitch's hands. "A skilled executioner can make it last for an hour. He'll damp the wood, to make it slow. The pain starts at your feet, and it just gets worse and worse. It must feel like an eternity" she'd told her, smiling nastily. "Thanks to you!" Margaery had snapped back. The ingratitude of it stung. She had schemed, plotted and murdered on behalf of her family her whole life, and Ser Garlan was the only one who appreciated her efforts. Her son was a fool, Ser Loras had been a sodomite, and Margaery, who she had thought a worthy successor, was a coward after all.

The man began to preach.

"And there came one of the seven angels which had the seven vials, and talked with me, saying unto me, Come hither; I will shew unto thee the judgment of the great whore that sitteth upon many waters: With whom the kings of the earth have committed fornication, and the inhabitants of the earth have been made drunk with the wine of her fornication. So he carried me away in the spirit into the wilderness: and I saw a woman sit upon a scarlet coloured beast, full of names of blasphemy, having seven heads and ten horns. And the woman was arrayed in purple and scarlet colour, and decked with gold and precious stones and pearls, having a golden cup in her hand full of abominations and filthiness of her fornication: And upon her forehead was a name written, MYSTERY, BABYLON THE GREAT, THE MOTHER OF HARLOTS AND ABOMINATIONS OF THE EARTH. And I saw the woman drunken with the blood of the saints, and with the blood of the martyrs, and when I saw her, I wondered with great the angel said unto me, Wherefore didst thou marvel? I will tell thee the mystery of the woman, and of the beast that carrieth her, which hath the seven heads and ten horns."

The congregation began to stir uneasily. "What then, is the mystery of the woman? Who is the Mother of Harlots and Abominations of the Earth. I shall tell you. She threatens this very city! Daenerys Targaryen. A murderer, a traitor, a harlot. She calls herself Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, yet she is the Queen of whores! She is a witch, and are we not taught that we shall not suffer a witch to live? In better days, our ancestors would have burned her kind at the stake! Her hands drip with the blood of innocents. Her woman's parts drip with the seed of a thousand men, her mouth also! She commits fornication with demons. She allies herself with the Northern savages who worship trees and mate with beasts. And Lo! She has appointed her own false prophet, Hallayne, who dares to call himself High Septon. A man who spews heresy and blasphemy, and sucks worms from the very anus of the Lord of the Seven Hells! "

"A man who sits the Iron Throne may choose to sin, and be judged accordingly by the Seven. Yet a woman who presumes to sit the Iron Throne commits a sin by doing so! It is not a woman's place to rule over men. " Olenna sighed inwardly, but the man had to be endured. " Such a woman mocks the Seven, and calls down their judgement upon her. Have we forgotten the treasonous whore Cersei Lannister, who murdered my predecessor; who butchered her very son, who mocked the Seven and murdered infants. Yet, she is as naught next to the one who calls herself Mother of Dragons. Mother of Demons, rather. She is more cruel than Maegor and filthier than Aegon the Unworthy. Let her repent of her sins and confess her evil deeds. Let her go to the judgement she merits, liar, whore, traitor" he screamed, spraying spittle over those members of the congregation sitting in front of him. Many of the congregation were now on their feet, shouting their hatred of the Targaryen. Really, she found the man and his views absurd, but there was no doubt he could work a crowd. Even many of the highborn seemed swayed by him. As for the commons, well, Septons and Septas would be preaching the same message throughout the city, working the population into a frenzy. Hayford had fallen to the army of the Vale, just three day's march from the city, and Daenerys' army was gradually reducing the remaining strongholds in the Crownlands, but they would face a terrible fight for the city, with the populace roused to fury against them. "Every man who dies in the struggle against the Usurper, is assured of a place with Seven! " he concluded. "Rise, go forth and send the Dragon Queen and her servants to the hell they so richly deserve!" Hundreds rose to their feet and applauded the High Septon. Tommen and Margaery had faces set like stone, she noticed. The lad could hardly welcome the reminder about his mother, she supposed, and as for Margaery, the stupid girl actually seemed to feel guilt over what they had done. She would happily roast Lady Megga over a slow fire, but at least she had the kind of spirit that her granddaughter lacked.

"A most uplifting sermon your Holiness" she simpered, as she greeted the man. "Truly, you are a worthy successor to your distinguished predecessor, so cruelly martyred for the Faith. "

"I thank your Ladyship. I speak as the Seven guide me. Have no fear, they will aid us all in our time of need."

Hopefully they would, she thought. Her assassins had so far failed to reach the Queen, but the fanaticism of the crowds might succeed, where her killers had failed.

Notes:

1. Queen Naerys was a famously devout woman who had the misfortune to be married to Aegon the Unworthy. She wanted to be a Septa. It would make sense for her to have a prominent Sept named after her.

2. Sadly, theological invective, of the type favoured here, has fallen out of fashion. The abuse that Protestants and Catholics hurled towards each other, in earlier centuries, is distinctly entertaining