The sun falling through windows was not as warm as it has been merely few weeks ago. Sitted at the table by which the Small Council meeting was taking place I couldn't help but smile. On the wall huge Myrish arras depicting Tyroshi gods certainly added to the almost sacrosant nature of the room. If it weren't for the rest of councilors of course.
Ser Swyft, who was a successor of Tywin Lannister as Hand of the King was... to say he was dimwitted would be to say nothing.
Gyles Rosby, maybe he was good master of coin or master treasurer as it was now called. I wouldn't know for I couldn't understand a thing because of his constant coughing.
Merryweather might be of a brighter sort but rarely does he show it.
Pycelle was a mystery. One moment he looked as if he lived mentally during Aegon's the Unlikely reign, yet immediately afterwards he would comment on a matter at hand with knife-like precision. He was constantly at odds with Qyburn, the master of whisperers. Some maester matter from what I heard. People spoke about Qyburn in the taverns of King's Landing. Called him a necromancer. Others said he might pay good silver for information.
Yet perhaps I shouldn't be judgemental about my fellow Coucil members. I was, after all, 22 years old "grand admiral" of the Iron Throne. Not a year ago I fought for enemy king to capture this very city. And now, somehow, I ended up right here, telling the queen that building a new fleet was a lot more important then repaying debt to the Iron Bank.
Ah, the queen. She was behind my rise to power. Why did she saw fit to put a man with no experience in leading a naval force larger than a single trireme on her Small Council?
The council meeting starts when the queen enters the room. First there is talk of septons and debt to the Faith. I close my ears to that, hoping that the new High Septon would bring order to the streets that are crawlings with those... Sparrows.
The information about Golden Company breaking their contact with Myr is quickly dismissed as irrelevant.
They continue with bringing news of Ser Seaworth's capture in White Harbour. Apparently it is to be Lord Manderly's way to prove his loyalty.
I jest that maybe after losing the Onion Knight, Stannis will now get himself a Turnip Knight, unfortunately it brings no reaction. I am surrounded by half-wits. Oh well. At least I will have the ships. Praekar will probably faint at the news. All seems to be good in the world. The queen trusts me, for some reason I can't fathom. If only Rosby could stop coughing all the time it might as well be seven heavens for me. It's a pity about Ser Seaworth though I didn't know him that good.
They go on, talking about some northern bastard elected Lord Commander at the Wall. Eddard Stark's bastard, the queen is not happy about it. As much as sympatize with his rise, I can't miss such an opportunity.
"Your Grace, I have a solution to the Night's Watch problem" I start and the Queen immediately takes another sip of wine. How much did she already have? Does that cup ever leave her hand?
"The Night's Watch can't exist without new recruits and at the same time m- King's new fleet needs as many volunteers as possible. Instead of sending poachers, thieves and such to the Wall they could simply be conscripted into royal navy. I am sure that noble brothers at the Wall can handle some savages in seal skins. "
"That's highly irregular..." starts Pycelle but is cut off by Cersei
"Yes grand admiral, I approve of your plan" In response I incline my head toward her with a smile.
The Council goes on and on, discussing matters of no interest to me. At the very end I try to spice up the proceedings to make it at least a little bit less boring.
"My Queen, the rumours in the docks... Sailors from the east talk about dragons..."
The queen smiles at that and waves her hand dismissively. "They also talk about mermaids that steal their hearts with beautiful songs."
And with that the Council is adjourned for the day. Walking through corridors of the Red Keep I can't shake the feeling that they were made for men greater than we. A big black cat crosses my path and sneers in my direction before running away quckly into the shadows. In the training yard the Redwyne twins yet again bludgeoned each other with swords and that's also where Preakar hasbeen waiting for me, bow in his hand.
"How did it go my lord admiral" he asks with a sly smile
"Cut it, please. At least the meeting was a success. We will have our ships" At the mention of ships Preakar's eye threaten to burst out of sockets and he can't contain his excitement.
"Ha! Wait till Mya hears about it!" he bursts out
"Yes she will love her captain" I wink at him "Still can't believe you are actually courting baker's daughter. You were nothing like that in Driftmark!"
"In Driftmark every girl looked like my sister or my mother. And they were all named Visenya or Rhaenys"
"What kind of Valyrian are you, spurning girls who look like your sister"
"Eh, the only thing that people of Driftmark have in common with Valyria is the hair." I roll my eyes
"Nevermind, we will be meeting tomorrow evening in "Bard's Whore"
"Down by the Mud Gate? Great I like the place. I will tell the men."
I shake his hand and move down the Aegon's Hill towards the docks. For a long time Preakar was the only man I could trust in the city. A sailor from a village near the eastern edge of Driftmark, he served at the same ship as I did during Stannis' attack. I have much to do to, contacting and hiring carpenters, seamstresses and the like, soon I will have a ships that will outshine all others. I take two of the Gold Cloaks as my escort. Can't be certain of anything in the city anymore. Not that it was much safer earlier. Going down the hill I jape with with them about how much bribes did they get last month.
The meeting with the guilds goes predictably smoothly they are vivid at a vision of new work to be done. They are get even more ecstatic when I make it known that they can make a good cut out of it. Well, it's not like I am spending my money here, and I really need their engagement in the project. Five ships, for now, I tell them. And maybe more in the future.
The leader of the seamstresses, a fat woman who is wider that she is tall constantly speaks over me and in the end I agree to increase the wages of her workers by a huge margin.
After all is said and done I bade my escort to follow me and invite them to join me at the nearest tavern.
When we were walking through one of the back alleys we saw three men attacking a girl in the slums. Immediately my skin went hot and my limbs stopped in their tracks. My golden comrades didn't do anything.
"How much do I pay you to take them down?"
"Those are Splitter's men" they say, fearful.
After few moments of doubt they finally state their price and we rush to take them down. We are helped, quite unexpectedly by a group of Sparrows.
One of them, a small man with a short beard embraced the woman and whispered assurances to her. Afterwards he looked at me, warmly.
"You are a good man, grand admiral" I flinched at that. There was fire in those eyes. I quickly retreated and resumed trek to the tavern.
"Gods I need a drink"