Robb did not move his lips or utter a word. He turned away from Varys and walked to the hearth where the fire was slowly dying, flickering and creating roving shadows on the walls of the chamber. While the room was silent, Robb's mind was not. His heart was practically beating out of his chest. Varys may have been asking questions, but there was no doubt in Robb's mind that the Master of Whispers already knew the answers. He had not worn his sword to the feast, but could see it where he had left it nestled into a corner in the room. Could he do it? Could he grab the sword and silence Varys? It would be for the good of Westeros.
He quickly passed by the sword, leaving it behind him, and took a seat across from Varys.
"I am unarmed...at least in the physical sense," Varys noted. "Sometimes words are more deadly than blades."
"Secrets even more so," Robb countered. "How long have you known and how much do you know?"
"You mean when did I find out that Brandon Stark was awake from his fall, and that Eddard Stark was riding around the North courting his men for battle? Remarkably, I received a raven just this morning."
"I will give you credit, your informants are good," Robb conceded.
"Not good enough it would seem, because the letter failed to reveal whether young Brandon remembered the circumstances of his fall. A key piece of the puzzle, would you not say?"
"I would," Robb said without emotion. "Though, I do not think it matters much what Bran remembers, now does it? If someone were responsible for Bran's fall, then just the information you have would be enough. My Father knows, and that is enough. The question is, who have you told?"
"Me? No one Lord Stark."
"No one," Robb repeated. "Why are you here then, and not informing the King? Who exactly is it that you serve, Lord Varys? If I remember correctly, you were there whispering to the Mad King right till the end. Yet here you still are."
"I am here because I serve the realm, Lord Stark," Varys responded.
"And how is coming to my chambers in the dark of night serving the realm?"
Varys did not respond, but placed his hand on the book that was sitting front of him. "Do you see this book, Lord Stark? It was the one that Jon Arryn was reading incessantly right before his death." Robb looked down at the book, titled The Lineages and Histories of the Great Houses of the Seven Kingdoms. He pulled the old tome towards him and noticed a piece of parchment tucked into the books, which he assumed was holding a page. Flipping open to the tabbed section, he saw the history of the Baratheon family laid before him. As he started from the top of the page and made his way down, the same phrase repeated over and over...dark of hair...right until Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen...blond of hair.
"I do not think that anyone would deny that Jon Arryn was a good man," Varys began, "but unfortunately he was not inconspicuous. Reading books such as this one and then making visits to the King's bastards, including the apprentice you met before the Tourney, was anything but a secret. It was no wonder someone killed him."
"So you know it was murder, then?"
"Do I know? No. But I am also not a fool. I have seen the work of poison before. It was no simple sickness that took Jon Arryn. Though, the man did try his best to warn the King in the end, even in his delirium as death approached. Over and over he repeated the seed is strong."
"You knew all of this," Robb simmered, standing from his chair. "You knew the princes and princess are illegitimate. You knew the Queen was lying with her own brother. Yet you said nothing to your King. You let him walk in ignorance of the danger around him. You sit on the King's Small Council and you serve at his pleasure! Why did you not do your duty, Lord Varys?"
The Master of Whsipers leaned back in his chair with his hands tucked into his the sleeves of his robe. "For the same reason I am here right now Lord Stark...to avoid this country being thrown into the clutches and chaos of another pointless war. Robert Baratheon has never been much of a King. Jon Arryn did what he could, but now that he is gone, the King will drink himself into an early grave. Stability in the Kingdom when that happens will be needed."
"It won't be the wine that will kill the King, Lord Varys, it will be his own family by law. Does that mean nothing to you?"
"Politics is not a game for the weak, Robb. So often there is no place for honor. Sometimes one must die to protect many."
Robb's eyes burned with the distaste he felt for the slimy excuse for a man that sat at this table. To so callously speak of the necessity of murder was jarring. For Robb it was the equal of Jaime Lannister pushing Bran off that tower to preserve his family's dignity. "What do you want from me, Lord Varys? What games would you have me play to forsake my own honor as a Stark?"
"Leave, Lord Stark. Tonight. Ride north and find your Father and get him to cease in his intentions to march on King's Landing. It is not too late for excuses to be made for him."
"When I ride north, Lord Varys, it will be to join my Father," Robb responded with no thought to the other man's words. "I would not be able to look my Father in the eyes long enough to say the words."
"So look at the ground while you do it. The words are enough."
Robb walked over to where his sword sat and picked it up. "You were right Lord Varys. Sometimes one man must die to protect many. However, sometimes many must fight and die to protect the realm you claim to serve." He fixed the sword to his belt and moved towards the door, but stopped at Varys' call.
"Lord Stark, you are a good man, I have little doubt. Whatever you mean to do, you should do so quickly. I will keep my secrets, but I am not the only one who hears whispers from far away places."
Robb spared the man one last look, then left his chambers. There were plans to make.
The chambers of Ser Barristan Selmy were small and filled to capacity early the next morning. Robb had immediately sought out Jon and Jory after leaving the Master of Whispers and found the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. The man had been surprised when all three had shown up to his chambers fully armored. He was furious when Robb finished telling him of the secrets the Lannisters were holding. Ser Barristan had served the Targaryen's faithfully till the end, and he held no love for Jaime Lannister or his family and the roll they played in ending their dynasty.
"Can your brothers in the Kingsguard be trusted Ser Barrisatn," Robb asked after he had given the man a brief respite to take in all he had learned.
"No," Ser Barristan answered with little hesitation. "Trant and Blount are the Queen's lackeys and the others may be good fighters, but honorable knights they are not."
"Anyway we look at the situation we will be outnumbered," Jory stated.
"If we are conspicuous enough to alert attention," Jon agreed.
"Renly has already been on the road for hours, and he will not have to ride far to find men loyal to him," Robb noted. "Instead of facing our enemies head on, it may be just a matter waiting them out until Renly returns. If we can secure the King somewhere in the Keep, or even get him out, it would be good enough."
"It would be the most wise plan," Ser Barristan agreed. "Blount is on guard duty in front of the King's chambers currently. I could relieve him at the door and you could follow soon after. It is still early enough that the halls should be relatively empty, so do your best to keep quiet."
"We will or we'll die," Robb grimaced.
"I will see you again in a few moments," the Lord Commander nodded. He exited the room, his white cape sweeping behind him.
Jory walked over and put a hand on his and Jon's shoulders. "I want you to know, that I should be doing everything in my power right now to get you boys out of here. Your Father would hang me if he knew I was following you into this mess. Just promise me if things go wrong, you do everything to get yourselves away and home to Winterfell. This is not your last stand."
Robb and Jon both nodded as the ominous silence took over the room again. They waited until they felt that Ser Barristan had enough time to establish himself at the King's door and for Blount to disappear. Robb led the way, keeping against the walls and to the shadows. There was still a hint of darkness in the sky so their journey was made easier. Sure enough, when they arrived Ser Barristan was standing alone.
"Any trouble?" Robb whispered to him.
"None. It did not take much to convince Blount to leave his post. Are you ready?"
Robb nodded is confirmation. Ser Barristan turned and pushed the right side of the double door open leading them as they slipped into the darkness of the expansive rooms. There were several candles flickering around the room, but it was completely silent. The main part of the chamber was an entertaining area, where the King's table stood in front of a large balcony. They passed by and turned into the bedchamber and Robb saw the massive form of the King lying on his giant bed, asleep.
"Your Grace," Robb called as loud as he dared. There was no response and no stirring from the King. Robb called several more times, but still nothing. As Robb stepped closer, he saw a goblet in the King's hand, and realized the man was probably so drunk that no sound would wake him. He walked until he was next to the bed, reaching out to shake his Father's friend. However, he stopped when he realized that man's chest was not rising and falling in his sleep. Robb, startled, shook the King frantically, praying for a response, but when he looked up he stared into nothing but lifeless eyes.
In shock, Robb almost tripped backwards. "He's dead," Robb whispered. He was barely aware of the others stepping beside him to see for themselves. "We're too late."
"You are too late, Stark," a female voice called behind them.
Robb turned quickly to see the Queen and Jaime Lannister standing behind them. He immediately drew his sword, gripping it with fury. "You murdered the King."
"Murdered?" the Queen grinned. "I do not know of what you speak. When I woke this morning, I was so distraught that my loving husband had managed to drink himself to death. A tragedy for certain, but not unexpected."
"You poisoned the King, you traitorous whore," Robb shouted.
"Maybe," the golden-haired woman admitted. "But you will never get the chance to tell anyone.
"You can kill every one of us, but we are not the only ones who know of what your children are...or should I say, what they aren't. The news will spread, and the Lords of this Kingdom will draw the right conclusion about the King's death."
"Do you speak of Renly Baratheon, Stark?" the Kingslayer smirked, his face so disturbingly like his sister and lover's. "Ser Meryn!" Jaime Lannister called. From behind him the form of Meryn Trant emerged, a dripping sphere held in his fist. He threw the object across the room were fell with a smack into the floor. Robb was sure he felt his heart stop when he looked at the severed head of the King's youngest brother, blood seeping closer and closer to his feet. No help would be coming to their aid that morning.
"It was so good of Lord Baelish to let us know of Renly's sudden flight, right after he informed me of so many disturbing things that were happening in the northern reaches of the Kingdom. Your Father has been busy, it seems," the Queen stated.
"My little Brother saw you, and you tried to murder him for it!" Robb growled.
"It would have been better for everyone if he had simply died as he was supposed to," the Kingslayer sighed, making Robb seethe in anger.
"Kings were not enough for you Lannister, you had to murder boys as well?" Ser Barristan exclaimed. Robb had failed to notice the man had drawn his sword as well. "I've never seen a more deplorable example of a Knight in all my years."
"I have great respect for you, but your usefulness expired many years ago, Ser Barristan," the Kingslayer responded. "Truly, I will take no pleasure in killing you."
"No, the only pleasure you get is under your Sister's skirts," Robb remarked.
"I don't know what you are so surly for, Stark. You are the only one of your companions here who get to live today," Jaime Lannister informed him. "The threat of putting your head on a spike should be enough to convince your Father to bend the knee to Joffrey."
"I have two Brothers to take my place as heir, Kingslayer," Robb reminded him. "Nothing is going to stop my Father from bringing the full might of the north down on you and your kin."
"We shall see, Stark. It's been so long since there has been a good battle."
"Enough of this," the Queen proclaimed, exasperated. "Finish this Jaime. There is a funeral and coronation to arrange. My son is to be King." The Queen turned and disappeared out of the door, only to be replaced by Ser Blount, Ser Mandon Moore, and four Lannister soldiers, all with their blades drawn.
"One last fight," Ser Barristan muttered from Robb's side. Jon and Jory had also joined them. "If my one last deed in this life is to rid this world of the traitorous scum that stands across from me, then it will have been worth it." The old man was surprisingly the first to move, and with speed belying his age he was across the room in an instant, his blade cutting through the air as he attacked the Kingslayer.
With every bit of pent up fury and rage in his body, Robb roared as he ran straight at Meryn Trant. Without even bothering with his sword, Robb threw the full weight of his charging body into the man. His shoulder drilled right into Trant's sternum, knocking him clear over. One of the Lannister soldier approached from a blind spot on his side, trying to impale him, but Jory was there quickly, knocking away the soldier's lunge. Robb followed and swung his sword, sweeping the blade right across the soldier's neck and creating shower of blood.
Robb turned back to Trant who was trying to gather himself on all fours, swinging his boot with all the force he possessed across his face. Teeth and fluids flew as Trant screamed in pain. Robb was intent on ending the man, but two more Lannisters forced him back against a wall. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jon slip under the strike of Boros Blount and fell the bald man with a cut across the back of the knees. Ser Barristan had forced the Kingslayer back, while at the same time disarming Mandon Moore, removing several of the man's fingers in the process.
Robb's attention was forced back to his own battle as the two Lannister swung at him in tandem. He managed to block both swords, but the force of it pinned him against the wall. The Lannister on the left took advantage and drove his fist into the side of Robb's face, stunning him briefly and causing him to drop his sword. The attacker did not get to follow up on his advantage, because Jory had driven his sword through the man's back to the point where it almost pierced Robb's own armor. Unfortunately, the sword stuck, and the other Lannister slashed Jory across the shoulder. As the soldier turned back around, Robb realized he could not reach his sword, but hanging on the wall behind him was the King's war hammer. He pulled it down, blocking a sword strike with the shaft, followed by swinging the face of the hammer straight into the Lannister's face. The man dropped to the ground, clutching his face, which had been caved in.
While Robb had sudden thought of potential victory, those hopes were quickly dashed when another swarm of Lannister guards took the place of the fallen. Jory was clutching his bleeding shoulder, while Jon was favoring a gash in his arm. All of his hopes fell though, when he watched the final moment of Ser Barristan Selmy. The Lord Commander had fought up to his legend, killing five Lannisters and most likely Mandon Moore, who was trying stop an endless flow of blood from the hole in his neck. However, the numbers were too many, and soldiers engulfed Ser Barristan, stabbing and slicing him from all sides, until he dropped to his knees, spent and unarmed.
Robb was shaken from his concentration on the disheartening sight, when he heard Jory yelling to Jon. "The balcony, Jon! Take Robb and go! Protect the heir!" Robb barely had time to retrieve his fallen sword before his Brother was pushing him towards the King's great balcony.
"No, we aren't leaving them!" Robb shouted, fighting against Jon.
"Go, Robb!" Jory yelled, fighting off a Lannister. "You promised me!" Those were last words of the Captain of Winterfell's Guard as he was run through from the side. He was dead by the time he hit the ground.
Robb's fight left him, tears developing in the corners of his eyes at the sight of his fallen friend. Jon finally managed to push him to edge the balcony, and without even looking over the edge, they jumped.