Chapter 18 - January 22nd 2020
WHO IS THE RIGHTFUL RULER OF WESTEROS?
STANNIS BARATHEON – 62%
MYRCELLA BARATHEON – 16%
UNSURE – 22%
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Tyrion picked awkwardly at the 'suit' that had been fitted for him. At first he had thought the garments of the flying men rather plain, but this was one he was growing fond of. At least it was comfortable, as far as formalwear went. He had attached a simple lion badge to the front as a sigil, but otherwise left it unadorned.
The studio was well lit, the lights shining in his eyes so brilliantly he could hardly see the 'cameramen'. It had been a baffling mummer's show at first, but he had gradually familiarised himself with the comings and goings of the 'media' in this world. Radio, television, internet, YouTube, Netflix…all were simply like more elaborate versions of the town crier. And I will make them sing Tyrion thought, determined.
The man sat opposite. To Tyrion's eyes, he was a curious looking fellow, with brown skin, a pointed face, a little moustache and the stubble of a beard on his chin. Waleed Aly was his name, and supposedly he was one of the more prominent journalists in this land. The man brushed some dust off his own suit absentmindedly and smiled at Tyrion.
"Are you ready, my lord?"
"Yes, thank you."
A cameraman counted down, and then they were live.
"Good evening. Our guest tonight comes from Planetos, through the Ring. He is Tyrion Lannister, known of course as the son of Lord Tywin Lannister of Casterly Rock and uncle of the pretender queen Myrcella. He has agreed to an exclusive live interview tonight, where we can discuss the recent events which have occurred in Westeros, as well as on our own side of the Ring. So, Lord Tyrion, good evening to you."
"Thank you, ser. I'm very glad to be here actually."
"It is an extraordinary time we live in, as many have said, given the appearance of the Ring, nearly ten months ago now."
"Indeed, it is. No one would be quicker to admit that than I, even if it took four of those months for me to became aware of its existence."
"Was it really four months, my lord?"
"It was. I was travelling on the kingsroad at the time, see, with a brother of the Night's Watch and two of my own men, whose names were Jyck and Morrec. Both are dead now, a result of the unfortunate meeting I had with Lady Stark at the Crossroads Inn."
"Yes, can you tell us what happened at that meeting?"
"Well, I was taken" Tyrion said simply.
"Taken?"
"Yes, taken. Seized, kidnapped, abducted, whatever phrase one prefers, against my will."
"We have heard of this incident. Could you tell us why you think you were taken?"
"Well, I would like to think Lady Stark merely coveted the great quality of my company, which I am assured is excellent, but unfortunately, I do not think that was the case. Actually, she said something about me having conspired to murder her son…"
He went on at some length, about their journey to the Eyrie, his imprisonment, the mockery of a trial he had been put through, and his escape back west.
"Recently, Lady Stark has apologised for her actions, to me personally, so perhaps she can learn from her mistakes at least. I will credit her that" Tyrion finished.
Waleed Aly nodded sympathetically. "We have heard of this initial incident which seems to have begun this feud between houses Stark and Lannister. Lady Catelyn later said she believes it was not you, but your brother, Jaime Lannister, sometimes called the Kingslayer who attempted to murder her son."
"A very serious accusation" Tyrion said "but where is the proof? There is not a shred of it, as far as I am aware. All we know is the boy fell from a tower at Winterfell, and I'm told he was always fond of climbing. What is more likely, a very crude form of assassination if ever there was one, or the boy merely lost his footing? And apparently, from what I understand, he has no memory of the incident whatsoever."
"Lady Catelyn believes your brother had an incestuous relationship with your sister, Queen Cersei Lannister. That her son saw this."
Tyrion laughed at the absurdity of the claim. "An even more outrageous accusation, surely?"
"What reason would she have to lie?"
"Oh, I don't think she is lying, misled rather. She told me of the man who accused me of this apparent crime. A childhood friend of hers, Petyr Baelish, who served as King Robert's Master of Coin. He told her the dagger used against her son belonged to me, which it never did. She came back north, saw me at the Crossroads Inn, and decided to start a war over the issue."
"Why do you think this Petyr Baelish would do such a thing?"
"A very good question, but not impossible to answer. Why would anybody start a war? Why, to profit of course. To advance one's position. With the realm in chaos, certain crafty men could do very well indeed. As far as plots go, I must say, the results have been impressive. Thousands are dead and Westeros is divided in two by the lies of one man."
"Do we know where Petyr Baelish is now?"
"I am not aware. He has not been seen since the battle in King's Landing. If he's still alive, no doubt he's off plotting somewhere."
"Then what of the royal children? Joffrey, Tommen and Myrcella?"
"They are Robert's. They must be. Does anyone really think all three could be bastards, and no one notice? Just consider the logistics of it. So my brother and sister started an affair and it carried on for…what, twelve, fifteen years? Completely unnoticed? Absurd. Do you know how many people live in the Red Keep? And so what if the children have blonde hair. Is that really so unlikely?"
"Our government accepts that the royal children were bastards" Waleed countered. "Fathered by Ser Jaime Lannister, and so, by your own laws, with Robert's passing Stannis Baratheon then becomes the lawful king of Westeros. Our government has recognised this, so have the Americans, the Chinese, the UN…"
"But where is the proof?" Tyrion asked, doing his best to appear exasperated.
"I have spoken to the Prime Minister, and ambassador Fifield myself" Waleed replied. "They are confident on this issue. Ned Stark had concluded it was the case. Jon Arryn, the previous Lord Hand of the King, had been investigating Robert's other bastards, of which there were many. They all shared his features, his dark hair for instance. Then the previous Hand died suddenly, what we believe was a murder. You have Bran Stark's fall, and then an attempted assassination by a catspaw. Then later the attempt against the king's life…"
"But all of this happened prior to the Ring" Tyrion objected. "How do they know? Except for Robert's accident, and I continue to insist it was an accident. How does my family arrange a boar as an assassin?"
"Both the king's squires were Lannisters, Lancel and Tyrek, who we believe were supplying the king with fortified wine to get him drunk…"
"A boy of sixteen and a boy of twelve. You really think these are assassins?" Tyrion shook his head. "Some enthusiastic squires, I think, and now both very dead, after Robert chopped their heads off. No. I think Robert nearly died hunting because he was a drunk, and drunk men are clumsy, even kings. Ask anyone. It is the obvious conclusion. Your people saved him, a benevolent attempt to help, I am sure. But then you let Ned Stark come in and convince him all his children were bastards somehow born of incest, after which he returned and put them all to death most cruelly. But again, where is the proof?"
"We accepted at the time, and still accept, the testimony of Eddard Stark."
Tyrion pounced. "But why? If one Stark can be lied to, then why not another?"
Waleed Aly paused a moment. "Who do you think could have lied?"
Tyrion gave a small laugh. "Why, the royal court is a nest of vipers, it always has been." He started ticking names off his fingers. "It could have been Baelish again, or Lord Varys, the spymaster, who also appears to have disappeared. Or what of Renly? He could have been whispering in Lord Stark's ear. We saw later how he coveted the position of king for himself. Robert, his children, and Stannis were all in the line of succession ahead of him. What better way to remove them, then by convincing Robert his own children were bastards? Everyone fights among themselves. Really, it's the perfect plot. At the end all he had to do was remove Stannis. Almost a tragedy Stannis removed him first."
Waleed paused again. "If it is a question of parentage, Myrcella could simply agree to a DNA test. That would resolve the issue."
Tyrion laughed again. "I have heard of this thing. A DNA test? Perhaps such a thing is possible. You have so many wondrous machines. One that can tell a child's parentage sounds useful enough, but I am told it requires a sample of blood?"
"Yes, a small sample. They look at their DNA under a microscope and see if there is a match. Every person's is unique, like your fingerprints.."
"You would demand a sacrifice of blood from the ruling queen of the Seven Kingdoms?" Tyrion asked, incredulous.
Waleed blinked. "It would resolve the issue."
"Should we cut inside your heart, and see who your parents are?" Tyrion asked. "Should we demand a sample of blood from your queen, to ensure she sits on her throne rightfully?"
"So you would say it's an unreasonable request?"
"It is outrageous" Tyrion said, quite earnestly. "You don't steal a person's blood, and why should we trust your hands touching our beautiful queen? You had Robert in your custody once. Men say he was dead when you took him, or close to it, and yet somehow you brought him back to life? Who knows what sort of monster you might make of Myrcella?"
Waleed Aly blinked. "Perhaps we are getting a bit off track here, my lord" he said. "As we have said before, we cannot bring someone back from the dead. No one can do that. Robert's injuries were very serious, yes. In your world he would most certainly have died. It was only by a narrow margin that our trauma surgeons were able to heal him, but that does not mean he was…resurrected in some form."
"Perhaps you speak the truth" Tyrion admitted. "Perhaps you do not have this power, but many now suspect you do. There is a great deal of fear in Westeros, fear and mistrust, given everything that has happened since the appearance of the Ring. My people would never trust you touching Myrcella, not now."
Waleed Aly nodded. "Perhaps that is true, my lord. Perhaps there is such distrust, that no one would even accept the results of a DNA test if it were carried out. So then, how do we prove if Myrcella is Robert's daughter or not?"
"She must be Robert's. As I said, does anyone really think the queen could carry on an affair like this for years and years with no one noticing? Myrcella is the rightful queen now. Stannis is merely a jealous uncle who covets the throne for himself. He might have plotted with Lord Stark from the beginning or fed him false evidence. We know the Starks are easily lied to. Now he has the backing of your government, all of Westeros is threatened by this usurper and kinslayer, as well as this fire demon he worships."
"You refer to R'hllor, otherwise known as the Lord of Light" Waleed replied.
"He appears to have many names" Tyrion said drily. "But his followers are just bowing and praying to a mass of burning wood, as far as I can see."
"This appears to be a new religion in Westeros, having recently come from Essos, the eastern continent" said Waleed, checking his notes. "One that was embraced by Queen Selyse, and then by King Stannis, although to what extent remains unclear. There were septons at his coronation, as well as a red priestess."
"Yes, this priestess" Tyrion practically spat the word. "Who is in the habit of burning men alive, as well as anything else she dislikes. At first it was the septs in King's Landing. Now we have seen, from your air photos, that the Godswood of Harrenhal has burnt as well."
"We are told Lady Whent…the lady of the castle, embraced the lord of light, willingly" Waleed said, though he sounded uncertain.
Tyrion gave another laugh. "Oh, come now, we're smarter than that aren't we? My father deposed her from her castle, I will confess, and now Stannis has returned it to her, but clearly there were conditions attached. Embrace the lord of light. Burn your godswood. Burn your sept. And we will return your castle to you. Does that sound fair?"
"It does sound like a concern" Waleed acknowledged. "But ultimately it is up to King Stannis and his lords how they apportion their land and castles. My people are not the rulers of Westeros."
"But you have allied with him" Tyrion pointed out. "You back him. You have been selling him planes and other great inventions. So his actions must meet with your tacit approval. And let us not forget, you are the ones who blew up Harrenhal, dooming all the men inside. Have you heard what happened after?" He leaned forward in his chair. "This Northern lord, Roose Bolton, took hundreds of prisoners when the castle fell. Then he flayed them alive and hung their skins on the battlements." Tyrion smiled inwardly. He didn't know if it was hundreds, in truth, but it sounded a lot better. "That was you. You killed them. You let this atrocity occur. I mean, ask yourselves, are these really the people you wish to be allying with?"
"Certainly, that is terrible, if that's the case" Waleed said cautiously. "I wouldn't condone that, and I don't think our government does either. But again, terrible as that may be, this is your land. Unless we were to intervene in a big way, this war will go on. And let us not forget there have definitely been atrocities on both sides here. Your father burned his way through the Riverlands months ago. You can call it a justified, for your kidnapping, but still thousands must have died. If we have to pick a side, it should at least be the side committing less atrocities."
"But is that still true?" Tyrion pressed. "The list is growing. What happened at Harrenhal…I believe the same thing has now happened to Rosby and Stokeworth. Lord Gyles succumbed to this blackmail, though Lady Tanda certainly did not. Now one of them sits in a dungeon, but the septs were burnt in both their castles regardless."
"Again, that is unfortunate, but the policy of our government is that it is for the Westerosi to decide what religion they follow. The Lord of Light, the Faith of the Seven, the Old Gods, the Drowned God, the Orphans of the Greenblood…"
"Oh yes, an admirable position" Tyrion said, with a drop of sarcasm. "But can't you see? The king and his red priestess, they are using you. You breach Harrenhal's walls, then the followers of the red god turn up and say, well it was the will of the lord, so now we must hurry and burn the Godswood as well. You give them tools, knowledge, power, and they turn around and tell everyone it is a godly blessing. They are using all this as an excuse to spread their religious crusade."
Waleed Aly paused. "Perhaps, again, there is truth to what you are saying. Though remember it is your High Septon who has denounced us, and called us demons, while this…Lady Melisandre has proclaimed us friends of the king. Who should we prefer?"
"The Faith can be zealous, but they are not in the habit of burning people alive. They simply don't understand where you people have come from. They are afraid of what they do not understand, is that not obvious?"
"Perhaps so" Waleed acknowledged. "Certainly, it is not surprising that, since the appearance of the Ring, there would be religious turmoil afterwards. Even in our world…The Pope has declared the Ring a blessing from God. Meanwhile, Islamic scholars are divided. Many think it is a sign of the end times, that the Day of Reckoning may soon be here…"
"What do you believe, Waleed?"
The man gave a small shrug. "I am not sure. I think many will try and fit the appearance of the Ring, and of Planetos, into their own word view. But perhaps it is something that simply no one predicted. An outside context problem…but I do not necessarily think it is the end of the world."
"Yes, I hope not as well. Perhaps the Long Night is soon to come again?" Tyrion mused. "Nonetheless, I would ask you to consider, which ruler would you prefer? Stannis, a vicious uncle whose followers burn people alive, or Myrcella, a gentle queen who sticks to the old gods. I mean, the new gods…" he said, stumbling slightly. "All of Westeros will rally to her banner, so long as they believe her the trueborn daughter of Robert Baratheon. The realm will never rally for Stannis, not while he follows this red god."
"I think I understand your objections about Stannis, but he has managed to rally a much larger share of Westeros than Myrcella" Waleed pointed out. "He won the battle in King's Landing, and now marches on Casterly Rock. And there are other reasons my people don't recognize the Lannister claim. Let's not forget it was Queen Cersei who attacked us. She attempted to ambush our men at the Red Keep."
"An unfortunate incident." Tyrion conceded.
"Unfortunate?" Waleed pressed.
"Well, it may not have been a wise action on the part of my sister, but let us consider, who was attacking who? Did house Lannister send men into your parliament house? Or your Buckingham palace? Your men came into the Red Keep, where Cersei and the royal children live. Were we attacking you or simply trying to defend ourselves?"
They spent some time arguing the point back and forth, before Waleed moved onto other issues.
"Despite these unfortunate incidents, my people still hope they can influence Westeros for the better. We know now the UN has approved an aid budget of $4.4 billion US dollars. Another $1.2 billion is going to Braavos and Pentos. That money is already being spent to improve your people's quality of life. After the fires in King's Landing, we housed a huge number of displaced people. At Camp White, the number peaked at just under a hundred thousand. More than half have since returned to the city…"
Images began to appear on a screen behind them, of the refugee camp, of infrastructure being built, of buses and trucks and other vehicles trundling through the Ring. Tyrion listened attentively as the host went on.
"The field hospital at Camp White, as well as others at Riverrun, the Twins and White Harbor, have already saved hundreds if not thousands of lives. A bitumen road has now been constructed from the Ring down to King's Landing, and another is being built to the nearby coast where a shipyard is planned. Recently, several clinics have been set up in King's Landing itself. The damage to the city is being repaired, and there is talk of constructing the city's first permanent hospital near the ruins of the old Dragonpit. The Red Keep is newly electrified, with the installation of a pair of diesel generators, with plans for more generators, solar panels and perhaps wind turbines in the near future. Across Westeros almost a hundred castles can now be contact by radio, operated by your maesters…
Waleed went on at some length about the plans for 'economic development' that were underway, on both sides of the Narrow Sea. Finally, he turned back to Tyrion.
"I suppose the point I am making my lord…is this not a good thing? Already we have made substantial improvements to your people's quality of life, at least in the vicinity of King's Landing, and all this is just the beginning. King Stannis, to his credit, has permitted us entry and accepted our aid in many forms, while your own family opposes us. So I ask, if your father were somehow to win this war, and march back on King's Landing, would you really destroy it all?"
Tyrion considered this a moment. "I believe I see your point. It would be most unfortunate. There has been such distrust, because of all the unfortunate events that have occurred. But if that trust could be rebuilt…"
"Could it, my lord?" Waleed pressed.
"I would have to talk to my father, and to Queen Myrcella. If you were willing to recognise her as the rightful queen she is…" he left the statement hanging a moment. "I believe my father could be persuaded. We would be willing to accept your aid and allow you free passage through Westeros, provided there is trust."
"Then let us hope that trust can be rebuilt, my lord" Waleed concluded. He went to turn away, but Tyrion was not finished.
"One other thing to consider" he added quickly. "I believe before he departed, 'King' Stannis set hundreds of builders to the task of building new housing in King's Landing, to replace those lost in the fires. Often this is being done with materials and advice provided by your people. This is good, I concede, but now we hear something else. Is it not true that Queen Selyse has requisitioned many of them to build temples to her fire demon instead?" Tyrion gave a very genuine smile. "Tell me, Waleed, do you think this a wise investment in your economic development?"
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The next day…
Fifield stood in the corridor, hands clasped behind his back, in what he hoped looked like a relaxed posture. There were no ostentatious decorations in this part of Maegor's Holdfast. He found himself counting the bricks in the windowsill or examining the contours of the stones that made up the walls.
How long does the mad woman intend us to wait? He wondered. He assumed it was a psychological ploy of some kind. Let the guests wait. The more patience they show, the more weakness. A gauge of how desperate they are to talk to you. He knew the tactic well.
All day he had been in damage control mode. He had already spoken with the Lord Hand, but when it came to restraining the followers of R'hllor Lord Tyrell had proven even more indecisive than usual. Dithering and muttering something about 'the king's will'. Lord Florent had seemed baffled by his concerns, and asked why they hadn't simply removed the dwarf's tongue, were it giving them such trouble. He had not even bothered with the Queen, who had come first under the Lady Melisandre's spell.
No, it seemed he had no other choice. He would have to confront this menace at its source.
So, he waited patiently. Even so, the shadows in the corridor were growing long, and he was just considering tapping his aide on the shoulder and calling it a day when a bald knight dressed in red approached. Ser Clayton Suggs gave a slight bow, mumbled his apologies, and led him down the corridor. His assistant and the guards he had brought stood back. They watched nervously as Fifield disappeared into the chambers of the King's Mistress of Whisperers.
The Lady Melisandre sat draped over a comfortable armchair. She didn't appear to possess a desk, instead there was a half-circle of equally comfortable chairs surrounding a sort of coffee table. The day was not particularly cold, but a merry fire was burning in the fireplace. She appeared to have been staring into its depths before he entered. Curious. She turned to him. Hair, eyes, lips, all unnervingly red. She broke into a wide smile.
"Ambassador, thank you for the honour of your visit. Please, take a seat" she crooned.
Fifield thanked her, and did so. The room was less bare than the corridor outside. He glanced at the tapestries on the walls, the same apocalyptic scenes that now populated the throne room. He even recognized the skyline of old Valyria by now, moments before it was swallowed by fire and brimstone. The space was littered with the detritus of the modern world. In the corner a bar fridge hummed quietly.
"You may be aware, my lady, last night Tyrion Lannister gave an…interview, on Australian television. Talking about the war here, and his family's claim."
"I am aware" she replied, without elaboration. Fifield nodded. They hadn't given the Westerosi any televisions yet. Still, she was the Mistress of Whisperers.
"The interview was…problematic, my lady. We estimate over a hundred million people have seen it by now. Much of what he said appears to be untrue, but there is just enough doubt there it could sway public opinion, given time."
"The dwarf spews his vile lies" she said, unconcerned. "Yet you know Stannis to be the true king, ambassador, is that not correct?"
"Yes, I believe he is. The evidence is strong. I don't believe Ned Stark was hoodwinked. That his wife had the wrong culprit doesn't change the fact the Lannisters tried to murder her son, where this whole chain of events began. It doesn't change the fact that Cersei's children look nothing like Robert. We accept Stannis's claim. But there isn't exactly a…smoking gun, do you know what I mean?"
"Yes, I believe so. The Lannisters have been cunning in their treachery. They operate in the shadows, always leaving doubt about their actions."
"Yes, so there may yet be room for doubt. The government knows better, but the public doesn't. We accept King Stannis as the legitimate king, but if we wish to maintain that legitimacy, then it is also a matter of his subsequent actions. If he is a good ruler, of course we will continue to support him. If he is a poor ruler, it lends weight to the idea that Myrcella might be a better choice after all. That is true on both sides of the Ring, not just here."
Melisandre seemed to consider this a moment. "Lord Tyrion does prove troublesome. I suspected as much…Why not just silence the dwarf?" she asked, a bit too callously.
"I don't think that is an option, my lady" Fifield said, as patiently as he could. "He is our guest. An envoy from his father. We respect guest right as much as you do, and we can't exactly stop him talking to the media either. We also can't send him back to Westeros where he might come to harm, our laws forbid it."
"Then what do you propose, ambassador?"
"It would be best if you could…prove him wrong" he said cautiously. "Let us start with Harrenhal. We see that the Godswood has been burnt, and the local sept. Tell me, was this Lady Whent's notion?"
"Lady Whent embraced the Lord of Light" Melisandre replied confidently. "She chose to burn her false idols as a gift to him."
"Then it was her own choice?"
"Of course."
"Forgive me, but that is not the outside appearance."
"Appearances can be deceiving, ambassador, here more than anywhere" she replied, unhelpfully.
"What of the bodies, the flayed men, this Northern Lord, Roose Bolton, displayed on Harrenhal's walls?" Fifield asked, switching tactics.
"Senseless savagery, I agree. The Northerners have some…old customs. I have already advised the Lord Hand, and he has written to Lady Whent, commanding their removal. By now, they should be gone."
Fifield nodded. Well, that's progress. "That is good, my lady. Perhaps the king could advise, or better command, Lord Bolton to refrain from such in future."
"I will advise him so, ambassador."
"I know this is your land, and you have your own customs. Lord Bolton can keep the flayed man on his banner for all we care, but we are also not likely to sell him a flying machine, or anything of that nature, while he continues to carry that practice out. I'll put it that way."
"I understand. I even sympathise. These Sunset lands are a savage place. I too am trying to guide them towards the light, even if many are in fear of being burnt."
Fifield considered her a moment. "You are from Asshai, my lady?"
"I lived there for many years."
"We do not know much of this place yet. Were you not born there?"
"No…I was born along the Rhoyne. Not far from Volantis."
"Then how is it you ended up here?"
Melisandre chuckled. "Oh, it is a long and boring tale. As a girl I was sold into slavery, and then purchased by the Red Temple. Ever since I have spread his word. I journeyed to Asshai many years ago, spreading truth, and seeking it in turn. Now I have come to Westeros, for the same purpose."
"I am told the followers of…R'hllor, believe in two gods. A dualistic religion."
"Of course" Melisandre said. "If there was only one, perfect god, the world would be perfect. Clearly it is not. Close to R'hllor's embrace, we prosper, but ever we risk falling under the shadow of the Great Other, whose true name must not be spoken. The two are ever at war, and our duty" she spread her hands wide "is to keep the darkness at bay."
"If the war is eternal, what is the point in fighting it?" Fifield asked.
"Are not all the greatest wars eternal? Against hunger, against illness, against death…" she reasoned. "No one can prevent winter, but one can reap the richest harvest as possible in summer, so as to better endure it."
Fifield wasn't quite sure how to reply to that. He searched around for some sort of point to make. "Your followers have been multiplying rapidly, my lady. It is impressive, really. Whether they have embraced this god willingly or not…I am not particularly here to judge. Again, this is your land, but you must see the potential for it to cause problems? Especially now, when the king's reign is still so unstable…"
"A great many problems" she agreed. "It is unfortunate, but necessary. Stannis is the champion of the lord, and he must unite the realms, and do so quicky. As the Starks say, winter is coming."
"Respectfully I am not sure I follow, my lady" Fifield replied patiently. "Westeros has endured many winters, has it not? What will be different about this one?"
"It will be a winter the likes of which has not been seen in thousands of years" Melisandre said. She spoke plainly, with no hint of alarm, yet somehow her words seemed grave. "Only the Lord's embrace will protect the people, from the king down to the humblest servant. Those who do not embrace him will surely perish."
Is she a mere charlatan, or a true fanatic? Fifield had been pondering the question for months. Disturbingly, he found himself leaning more and more in favour of the latter. I'm getting nowhere here. "These issues seem a bit beyond me, my lady" he said, mustering all the courtesy he could. "I am a mere ambassador. Perhaps the issues that concern me are a bit smaller in scale, more immediate. For instance, the builders the queen has reassigned to construct these…temples to R'hllor."
"The people need purpose" Melisandre replied, as if surprised by his concern. "They must see the true glory of the lord. His power, his embrace."
"Perhaps that is true, my lady, but much of the city is still in ruins. Thousands are homeless or sleeping in tents. We have provided you with tools, raw materials, expertise and supervision, and even some prefabricated dwellings. It was our understanding with the King, and the Lord Hand, that these would be used to construct new housing for those most in need. Instead, we see them being used for these temples. It would not appear to be in the spirit of our agreement. You understand my concerns?"
Melisandre took a long while to reply. She was staring in the fire again. With the silence stretching on uncomfortably, Fifield was about to try a fresh plea when she spoke.
"Perhaps you are right, ambassador. The queen has been hasty. The king is wiser, of course. People must have a roof over the heads, and full bellies, before they can truly give themselves to the lord." She turned back to him. "I will speak to the queen. The builders will resume work on the temples when the new housing is finished."
Fifield looked for a hint of a lie, and here found none. "Then I thank you, my lady. That would be most useful. It would prove Lord Tyrion's criticism to be baseless."
"Yes, you are right. You are wise, ambassador" she said suddenly, smiling at him again. "But of course you are. The Lord sent you to us. It is only fitting I listen to your counsel. If you have other matters of this nature, please, do not hesitate to visit me again."
Fifield paused. "That is good my lady." He glanced at the tapestries on the walls. "I have no particular reason to favour one faith over another here. The Old Gods, the New Gods, the Red God…We'll deal with anyone, provided they're…"
"No too much of a savage" Melisandre finished.
"Yes, something like that."
"I understand your objections. From what I have learned of your world, it is a peaceful place. Is it true, you do not even execute anyone in Australia?"
"Yes. We have not had the death penalty in fifty years."
"Then how do you deter the worst of criminals? Murderers? Slavers? Traitors?"
"The maximum penalty for any crime is life imprisonment. We lock them up, and they never come out, not for a very long time anyway."
"Such mercy…I do not think we would have enough cells here."
"I understand this is a different land. In Australia, we punish a man by taking away his freedom. But here? There is very little freedom to begin with. All you can take away is a man's life. But if you are to do so, my lady, then why not just…chop his head off and be done with it? Why the need for brutality? I have said as much to the king."
Melisandre smiled again. "Perhaps such measures seem…unduly harsh. But I have acquiesced, ambassador. The Northerners will skin no more prisoners, and there have been no burnings in the city, not since the King's great victory."
"That is good. I hope it stays that way. If is unfortunate if such should occur, especially with a great many watching." Do it in secret, you fools, or don't do it at all he wanted to shout, but he kept his voice level. The Mistress of Whisperers seemed nothing if not perceptive, however. She gave a small nod, as if reading his thoughts.
Fifield was about to make his excuses when she changed the topic.
"There is something of which you should be aware, ambassador, though your planes will tell you soon, I am sure."
"Which is?"
"The Kingslayer has left Casterly Rock."
"Has he?" Fifield said, surprised.
"Yes, he marches south, on Highgarden."
"You know this, my lady?"
"I am the King's Mistress of Whisperers" Melisandre replied, glancing at the burning fireplace. "It is my duty to know."
Fifield nodded. "Then I thank you. You have informed the king?"
"Of course. His grace is determined to bring siege to Casterly Rock before the same can happen to the home of our Lord Hand."
"I will inform my government of this development." He rose to leave, but as he reached for the door Melisandre stopped him again.
"I know you think me a fool, ambassador. Misguided, a fanatic. Even if you are most polite about it" she said, with a look that implied she was not at all offended. "But you would do best to reserve your judgement. Your people are new to this world. You do not yet understand what secrets it keeps. You should be cautious, for here the night is dark and full of terrors."
Fifield stood with his hand on the heavy iron handle, still unsure what to make of this strange woman. "That is curious, my lady" he said finally. "Where I come from, the world is bright and full of wonders."
He opened the door and strode from the room.