Chapter 20 - The 26th day of October, 298 years after Aegon's Conquest

They had told Renly the exact model of the plane, a De Havilland Canada Dash 8 Q200 or some such, but the young lord knew that simply wouldn't do. It needed a better name, something simple, something to inspire immediate fear and awe in the enemies of house Baratheon when its ninety-foot wingspan passed overhead.

It had been a nail-biting first flight aboard the Fury.

The length of the flying machine was painted white with a red tail, on which was depicted the outline of one of the Australian's kangaroos. It would need to be redone of course, the white changed to gold and black with a crowned stag on the tail instead, but time enough to worry about that later. Renly knew without a shadow of a doubt it'd been worth every penny, of the six thousand gold dragons it had cost him.

There were thirty-seven seats on board, plus the two Australian pilots in the cockpit. A couple of 'engineers' had come as well, and a pair of ASIS agents as liaisons. It was crowded. A few of his guards were standing for the duration or had doubled up on the seats, but they still fit. With an extra groan of its turboprop engines, the craft had successfully lifted off from Avalon airport, flown right through the middle of the Maidenring and banked south towards Storm's End.

They flew briefly over Blackwater Bay. The mouth of the Blackwater rush and the towers of the Red Keep were faintly visible on the horizon to the west in the dawn light. In mere minutes however they were passing over the Kingswood and the Stormlands. A thick carpet of trees eventually gave way to fields and pasture. The odd village was visible below. Renly grinned, wondering what they'd be thinking of the sight. The dragons are back he thought and they're no longer ridden by Targaryens. He had a drop of dragon blood in him, he knew, courtesy of his grandmother. He wondered idly if that would lend any greater propensity towards one's skill as a 'pilot'.

The whole flight, over a distance that would have taken skilled riders at least a week, took barely an hour. Towards the end of it they met the coast and followed it south. Their navigation was good. Just a few minutes more and the massive drum tower of the ancient fortress came into view. From this height it almost resembled a child's sandcastle. Fury circled lower, looking for the agreed upon field. He had recommended it to the flying men and they had checked with aerial reconnaissance the day before. They approached it, about a league north of the fortress. The pilots overflew it twice. Seeing nothing objectionable, they turned around for a final run.

The grass field was close to a mile long and had been left to pasture for the last few months. The grass was ankle deep and no trees or bushes interrupted the smooth slope. Fury touched down smoothly. The craft rocked back and forth a little as it slowed and came to rest half a mile further on. Nearby some startled sheep were scattering. In the shade of a nearby grove, a shepherd boy gawked at them as they disembarked. Storm's End and its accompanying village was hidden back behind a line of trees.

Renly thanked the pilots and exited, Ser Loras and the two ASIS agents in tow. Some men went ahead to acquire horses for the rest of the party. Renly paced around restlessly, admiring his new plane from every angle. Oh yes. Now this is a mount fit for a king. He had meant to buy one for his brother of course, but Robert was still bedridden. When he'd sat down with the Australian 'lawyers' and they'd gone over the contract for the purchase, he'd signed it in his name, and why not? It was his gold, this time, and he needed it to return to his seat. He could help Robert buy his own later.

An hour or so later and the men returned with the horses. The shepherd boy had run off and returned with some villagers, also looking at the sight in wonder. As Renly saddled up, one of the ASIS agents, mounting his own horse with rather less grace, asked him what he planned to do now.

"I will now make the short ride back to my own seat, goods sers. I will send out a hundred ravens to every lord in the Stormlands. I will order them to call their own banners and gather here. Then, with thirty thousand swords at my back, I will march on the capital and take back the Iron Throne in my brother's name."

Renly was smiling again. He wondered it that last part would even be the truth.

######

The 27th day of October, 298 years after Aegon's Conquest

Eddard watch the helicopter fly through the Maidenring and veer off the north. Sansa had been crying as they parted. She still thought of the flying machine as too big and noisy. He had only convinced her to get on board with a large bribe of chocolate and other sweets which would accompany them back to Winterfell. Arya hadn't been crying. She hadn't been particularly happy either. She just kept asking when they would return to the city of the flying men. Eddard had only promised her that yes, they would return someday, when it was safe to do so.

With his daughters safely flying home Eddard, with great effort, pushed them from his mind and walked over to the waiting contingent of Gold Cloaks. There were over a hundred of them. Robert had given Renly a sizeable escort. Their leader was a man named Humfrey Waters, who was normally commander of the Dragon Gate.

"My lord" Waters said with a nod verging on a bow. "Are we returning to King's Landing now?"

"Aye, we must restore the King's peace. Tell me Humfrey, how long have you been in the City Watch?" Eddard asked as they passed through the ring and started down the newly build dirt path on foot.

"Nearly eighteen years my lord, had the Dragon Gate for the past six."

"You have seen the king personally, along with several other officers here. Tell me, did he look alive to you?"

"Yes my lord. Bedridden, but very much alive."

"It seems, in the absence of the king or I, the queen has been spreading some rather disturbing rumors, or better I say lies."

"What would those be my lord?"

"She claims the king was already dead when the flying men went to go pick him up. They say they brought him back from the dead, practicing some foul necromancy. What would you say of such talk?"

Humfrey blinked. "I…I don't know the truth of that my lord. I was not with the king when he had his accident. I only know that I saw him alive later."

"Ser Barristan was with him. He never left the king's side. If he had died and they brought him back to life, he would know. He has scoffed at this rumor and labelled it false."

"Then seems Ser Barristan is your answer my lord. He could dispel these rumors."

"Aye, if he could be convinced to leave the king's side." With only two kingsguard present, and the loyalty of the others in question, the old knight had refused to leave his post. Eddard had his sworn statement in a letter. He hoped it would be of some use. "I could use your help though. The queen may use this lie as an excuse to crown her son, Joffrey, as king. I need the testimony of you and the others that the king is every much alive."

"As you say, my lord."

"Very good. You will have my favor for this Humfrey, and the king's. There may be a knighthood in it for you."

"Very good my lord."

They reached the bottom of the path. Ser Jacelyn Bywater was down by the Rosby road with his own contingent of gold cloaks. If nothing else, it was good news Eddard's group was returning to the city. He wondered how Janos Slynt was keeping order with a tenth of his numbers missing. Perhaps that explained how the queen and her patsies were running wild. Eddard greeted the one-handed knight and asked of what news from the city.

"They say my lord, pardons, but they say the king is dead."

"Who says this?"

"Begging brothers have been streaming out from the city. They came along the Rosby road just yesterday. Some are still here in fact." The old knight pointed with his good arm. Eddard followed. In the last two months a small encampment had grown up below the Maidenring. Local villagers, begging brothers and wandering septons, hedge knights and traders. Several local lords had visited with their own escorts to inspect the Ring for themselves.

The Australians had finished clearing their path down the hillside. Since then they had set up a sort of aid station at its base. A collection of white tents had been erected by the roadside. A team of doctors and nurses were tending to any sick or starving who came by, guarded by another company of commandoes. Word had spread and some patients had travelled from as far as the Riverlands. Dutton had talked to him of it. Better to give them aid on your side of the Ring. Better than letting them into our world and dealing with all the resultant complications. The only problem was, the more aid the flying men gave, the more people came. Already a few hundred were lining up for treatment or food every day. A few months more and it could be thousands.

At the edge of the station, a half dozen more begging brothers were visible. They had taken up position on a small pile of crates by the base of a nearby oak tree. One was preaching even as Eddard looked, pointing angrily in the direction of the aid tents with their big red crosses on the top. The commandos stood by their vehicles, parked at the encampment's perimeter. They were watching the beggars out of the corner of their eyes, but doing nothing more to interfere. Not many people seemed to be paying them much heed. Eddard figured that was a good thing. Its hard to smear a people who have done nothing but fill you belly and tended to your wounds. He hoped that was the case anyway. Eddard turned back to the City Watchman.

"The king is not dead, Ser Jacelyn. Her is alive and has remained so the whole time, I can promise you of that. He is recovering from his wounds, thanks to the generosity of the flying men of Australia. It appears some vicious lies are being spread. We should not tolerate these falsehoods."

"As you say, my lord" Ser Jacelyn replied.

"It is my intention now to return to the city with Humfrey and his men and resume my position as Hand of the King. I appreciate your efforts in maintain order here Ser. The king will know of it."

"Thank you, my lord."

Eddard and the others mounted up. The Gold Cloak's horses were still waiting in a nearby field, tended to by Ser Jacelyn's men. With enough mounts and provisions to go round they soon set off for the capital. The first day was easy going, and they camped that night in one of the villages without incident. The next morning they set off at first light. By mid-afternoon they were within a league of the city, before they saw any obvious evidence of something amiss.

As the city came into view, Eddard noticed the clouds of black smoke emanating from somewhere behind the high walls. It might have been from the vicinity of Visenya's Hill, near the Great Sept. It seemed the burnings inside the city were still ongoing. Eddard's column continued their ride, while he silently mulled over the options available to him.

Half a mile from the walls, Eddard spied a column of Gold Cloaks exiting the Iron Gate, about fifty of them, all on horseback. Eddard continued on, until he recognized the stout, bald figure of the man who led the column. He slowed slightly, one hand quietly reaching for his sword. Around him, the four Stark guardsmen who remained stayed close.

"Lord Stark, it is good to see you alive."

"Commander" Eddard replied.

"You are returning from the Ring, I do not doubt?" Janos Slynt asked, with an air of innocence.

"We are. You will be glad to hear the king is alive and well."

"We had heard…" Slynt hesitated. "The King perished tragically in a hunting accident in the Kingswood. The flying men came to take him away, claiming mercy. They arrived too late however."

"I'm afraid that is in error. The king was wounded, but they arrived in time. They flew him to Melbourne and their surgeons operated on him. They are very skilled, almost as skilled at surgery as they are at flying. The king is recovering in their hospital. I have spoken to him many times since, most recently just two days ago. His grace is very much alive."

Janos was trying to keep his face a mask, but he wasn't very good at it. His jowls were quivering, whether from anger or nerves it was harder to tell.

"But, respectfully my lord, that is not possible. Multiple witnesses from the king's hunting party claim he died of his wounds. The boar opened him groin to shoulder. He bled out profusely. His eyes closed. His breathing stopped."

"He was breathing when I last saw him. What witnesses, pray, are these?"

"Why, the king's own squire, and a kingsguard. Grand Maester Pycelle has also declared the wounds fatal."

"The Grand Maester was not with the king. Which squire and kingsguard to do speak of?"

"Lancel Lannister and Ser Preston Greenfield."

The queen's cousin and a Westerlands knight Eddard thought darkly. "Then their testimony is in error. The king lives. Humfrey Waters here and the other officers of the City Watch have spoken to him themselves, have you not?"

Beside him, Humfrey nodded. "We spoke with the king not two days past commander." There was a general murmur of accent from those behind him. Eddard continued.

"Ser Barristan Selmy, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, was also present with his grace the whole time. From the accident in the Kingswood, for the duration of the flight through the Maidenring and during his surgery. He will testify that at no point did the king's breathing stop."

"Oh? And where is Ser Barristan, my lord?" Janos asked, eyeing the party as if one of them might be hiding him under their cloaks.

"He remined behind, to guard the king until he recovers, along with Ser Mandon Moore. I have his sworn statement to that effect however" Eddard said, briefly pulling out and holding aloft Ser Barristan's letter. He stuffed it back into his garments. "So I hope, pray, that in the brief absence of his grace and I from the capital no great disturbance has taken place?"

Janos blinked. Eddard decided his quivering was due to nerves after all.

"I'm sorry my lord, I cannot accept this. The High Septon himself decreed the bells be rung. They rang for a day and a night, in reminiscence of the king's passing. Prince Joffrey is not yet of age. The queen now rules as regent."

"Then unfortunately the High Septon has been ill-informed. Whether due to malice or…an honest mistake, I do not know. In the king's absence, I remain his Hand. I must see to my duties ser." Eddard went to move but Slynt raised a hand.

"Beg pardons my lord but the queen has already selected a new Hand, oh yes. Tywin Lannister, Warden of the West" he said sharply.

As if any man here doesn't know who Tywin Lannister is Eddard thought irritably. The bald-faced nature of the lies was starting to grate on him. Could anyone truly drink this piss and declare it wine?

"The queen has no authority to appoint a new hand, not while Robert lives."

"So the flying men, they have told you they healed the king?" Janos persisted.

"Yes."

"But how did they heal a man who had stopped breathing? When all life had visibly flowed out of him?"

"That never happened. Are you claiming they somehow brought the king back from the dead?"

A silence fell between the two men. The surrounding crowd of Gold Cloaks remained silent. Eddard gave them a look. The ones with Slynt were looking back at him, grim-faced, distrustful. The ones who'd accompanied him from the Maidenring just looked confused. It was Janos who broke the silence. He half-turned to the men next to him.

"Then it seems our worst fears have been confirmed, even the former Hand has been tricked."

Eddard felt his face reddening. He was struggling to stay calm now.

"There has been no trick, except perhaps whatever lies the Lannisters have been feeding you and the High Septon. The Queen has no authority here. By no authority will you stop us entering the city."

"No my lord, I'm afraid I can't let you do that. No one who has gone through the Stranger's Ring and returned is to set foot in the city."

"The…what?" Eddard said, momentarily dumbfounded.

"Aye, my lord. The Stranger's Ring. The first name was a false one" Slynt declared, waving a hand in the vague direction of the Rosby road. "These flying men, for all their claims to be good. No, we see through the lies of the flying men now. They have practiced a foul necromancy on the king, the same one that powers their flying machines it seems. Oh, now we know."

Eddard could only shake his head. It seemed he had passed beyond anger. Now he just felt a sort of bitter sadness. How could men be such fools?

"The queen gives you this order?"

"No, not the queen. The High Septon himself."

"Since when does the High Septon give you orders?"

"The High Septon is the representative of the gods themselves. Do you deny it? Oh? Would you accept this order if a talking tree gave it to you, Lord Stark?"

There was sniggering among the Gold Cloaks at Slynt's back. Eddard felt his guards stiffen at the insult to the Old Gods. He decided he'd had enough to this lackwit. He turned to Humfrey.

"Humfrey Waters. You have told me you've served in the city watch on close to twenty years, is that right?"

"Yes my lord."

Eddard nodded. "I think you're ready for an appointment above the Dragon Gate. You will make a fine commander of the Gold Cloaks, Ser Humfrey."

"Aye my lord" Humfrey said, while Janos Slynt spluttered.

"In the name of good king Robert, will you and your men please relieve this fool of his spear?"

"Aye my lord" Ser Humfrey said again. Eddard was glad at the lack of hesitation. The new commander urged his horse forward, spear in hand. After a moment more, the men behind him followed.

"No, no!" Janos shouted. "Men of the watch!"

A few of his men lowered their spears, but most barely moved. Humfrey brushed aside the points of two or three spears as he closed with Janos. It seemed none of the Gold Cloaks truly wanted to skewer him. Janos was still protesting when Humfrey came alongside and butted him with his own weapon. The former commander fell to the ground, his horse rearing.

"Do you have any rope, commander?" Eddard shouted.

"Aye, my lord."

"Tie his wrists together. He can walk back to the city. Find him a suitable cell where he can dwell on his treachery."

Eddard urged his horse forward. The Gold Cloaks parted way. There were still distrustful looks, but they moved for the Lord Hand and his guards. Ahead, the great black plumes still rose from the city.

Janos was one thing Eddard thought grimly. The queen will be quite another.