Chapter 23 - March 10th 2020

WUHAN CORONAVIRUS PANDEMIC: GLOBAL CASES HIT 100,000, ITALY TO BEGIN LOCKDOWN

DOW JONES PLUMMETS 3,000 POINTS, NEW RECORD SET

THE PRINCIPALITY OF DORNE JOINS THE WAR – WHAT DOES THIS MEAN FOR WESTEROS?

DEVELOPING COUNTRIES QUESTION LEVEL OF FOREIGN AID GOING THROUGH THE RING

ETHIOPIAN PRESIDENT: INTERNATIONAL COMMUNITY 'SUDDENLY GENEROUS' NOW IT HAS FOUND A COUNTRY OF 'POOR WHITE PEOPLE'

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"Good evening, I'm Tony Jones and welcome to Q&A.

Tonight, we have a very special episode. We have five representatives here from the warring factions in Westeros, through the Ring. They have agreed to our invitation to present their cases to the audience, and to those watching at home and around the world. To explain who they believe to be the true king or queen, and why they support their claim.

To my right, representing King Stannis Baratheon, we have Ser Erren Florent, the king's brother by law and ambassador to our world, Ser Stevron Frey, the king's Master of Flying Machines, and Prince Salladhor Saan of Lys, admiral and sellsail in the king's service.

To my left, is Lord Tyrion Lannister, uncle to the pretender queen Myrcella, and former Grand Maester Pycelle, who has served five kings in that position. I would ask you to welcome them tonight and thank them for appearing on our humble program."

Tyrion looked around, almost dazzled by the bright lights, as the audience began a polite round of applause. He wondered how many friends he truly had in this room. All appeared to be strangers, but Melbourne was such a vast city he seldom seemed to meet the same individual twice. He only recognised the visitors from Westeros. They were in two small clusters, well separated. Stannis' minions occupied one corner. In the other sat his retainers and what relatives he'd been permitted. In this case just Pod, Bronn and his cousins Willem Lannister and Cleos and Tion Frey.

The city of the flying men was a place of wonders, but he couldn't help notice his companions all looked a little worse for wear as the months had passed. Pod had gained noticeable weight. At first this had appeared a good thing. He was a scrawny and underfed lad, after all, but now it was becoming hard to deny that the boy was taking to fat. Whenever Tyrion asked what food he wanted to eat, the boy only ever seemed to say 'McDonalds'. They would go to that place and Pod would stuff his face with 'burgers' and 'nuggets' and 'fries' until he could not consume another bite. Once he had even thrown up again, his stomach was so full. A touch alarmed by this, Tyrion had finally started saying no to his requests, and had been startled to discover a level of resentment in the boy he would never have expected. Now he was slow to obey his commands, and often overslept even when he had duties to attend to. You ungrateful little thing. We should have let you hang for stealing that ham.

Bronn too, was struggling to adjust. The sellsword had been fast to discover the brothels and casinos of Melbourne. Tyrion had 'loaned' him $10,000 Australian for him to enjoy their pleasures, and perhaps learn a thing or two about the city's inhabitants. The first night he had doubled his money, but every subsequent night he lost, until he was absent a penny. Tyrion had given him another $10,000, but that had disappeared in two nights as well. After that he had been reluctant to part with more of his fortune. His father had given him a hefty bag of gold when last they parted. His hosts had allowed him to convert this into local dollars at the 'Commonwealth Bank' but the supply was not inexhaustible. Melbourne was a city of marvels, but it was wildly expensive at times, even for a Lannister.

His cousins had their own issues. Cleos Frey was a father to two boys he had not seen in nigh a year. Soon he seemed to be taking after his uncle Merrett, drowning his sorrows in Melbourne's many noisy taverns. There were alcohols here the Westerosi had never tasted before. 'Vodka' was just the start of it. For a while the man tended to stay out late, only coming home in the early hours of the morning, sometimes escorted back by the local 'police'. His behaviour had become so embarrassing Tyrion had started refusing to fund his excesses too. This had started an argument, which resulted in Tyrion getting struck across the face and Bronn kicking the Frey knight out of their apartments. They had been forced to reconcile after the police had arrested his cousin for drunkenly begging and fighting with passers-by in front of Flinders Street station. Tyrion had paid his bail and the charges were quietly dropped, but he had forbidden his cousin to go out again unsupervised.

Tion, the other Frey, had asked where he could purchase a 'car' for himself. The Australians had been hesitant, but eventually advised he might be able to do so if he could pass a driving test. He had started lessons, but on the second day had crashed the car into a fence, and they had abandoned the attempt. He had next tried to master a 'bicycle' instead but that had ended even more disastrously. He had fallen off and landed face first onto hard pavement, knocking out a tooth and leaving his jaw a bloody mess. He had been taken off to 'hospital' and fortunately managed to recover quite fully. They had tried to cheer him up by exploring the city's parks and gardens on foot, but something in the air kept making him sneeze, and he distrusted the little white pills the flying men offered as medicine. Now he spent most of his time in their hotel rooms, muttering about the contraptions of the flying men, and seeming to believe they were cursed in some fashion.

Willem had a different issue entirely. After much agitation on Tyrion's part, his hosts had finally allowed him to purchase a 'laptop' computer, and instructed him on the basics of its use, including the act of 'Googling'. It hadn't taken them long to experiment with typing certain vulgar words into the 'search engine'. Tyrion thought this a great jape, but had quickly grown concerned about his cousin. He was, after all, a lad of fourteen who had never been with a woman. Now he was spending altogether far too much time alone with that laptop, and grown nigh as indignant as Pod when Tyrion tried to take it away again.

Tyrion himself had taken to the 'internet' like a fish. He felt like one that had previously been flopping about in a shallow puddle, quite content, but now found itself introduced to an entire ocean of knowledge. Who knew that there was a word for counting things beyond 'millions'? And that one could use it to describe the alleged age of this world? Or the number of its inhabitants? His favourite 'website' had quickly become the one known as 'Wikipedia'. He would spend hours clicking between the pages, soaking up information like a sponge, until his eyes hurt from the strain and he drifted off to sleep in the early hours of the morning. But he had learned a great deal from his efforts.

Despite their difficulties, Tyrion pushed all these thoughts aside. Tonight he had an important task to do. Their host, Mr. Jones, started with an invitation for Ser Erren Florent to speak.

"Thank you, good ser. I thank you again for your invitation. To lay our cases before this, as you say, people's court" the knight said, looking out at the audience. "His grace, Stannis of the House Baratheon, the first of his name, is the rightful lord of the seven kingdoms and protector of the realm, and it is not hard to prove as much. Just look at his trueborn daughter, the Princess Shireen. She has the clear Baratheon likeness, black of hair and blue of eye. The same is true of Edric Storm, and the other bastards of the late king Robert Baratheon. The children of the traitor queen Cersei do not share this likeness. They are blonde of hair and green of eye. It has become obvious that they are bastards, born of incest between Cersei and her brother, Jaime Lannister, now twice a kingslayer. As such, these abominations have no right to the throne." He looked to his right, where his Frey companion and the Lyseni Sellsail nodded their emphatic agreement.

Tony Jones nodded too, then turned to Tyrion.

"Lord Tyrion, what do you say to that?"

Tyrion took a deep breath. Time for the Imp to shine. "Oh well, that matter's settled then. I shall inform my father" he replied, stealing his own glance at the audience. "I guess the Lannister armies must lay down their arms…along with the Hightowers of course, the Costaynes and the Bulwers, the Mullendores, the Gracefords and the Rykkers. The half of Westeros, I mean, who do not believe a queen should be denied her birthright because she has the wrong colour hair."

Tyrion took great delight in watching the smug smile disappear of Ser Erren's lips. The knight seemed about to object, but Tony Jones spoke first.

"So you would maintain that Myrcella is Robert's trueborn daughter, and so the true heir?"

"Of course. And she is not the heir. She is now the queen. I noticed too, Tony, you referred to Stannis as a king, and my niece as a mere pretender. Why is that? I thought you were a neutral herald here?"

The host looked thrown. "Well, I mean in the sense that our government has recognized Stannis as the true king, and that he does occupy the Iron Throne."

"Not for long, with my brother leading an army. Already he is at Highgarden. Once he crosses the river and takes it, the usurper's alliance will fall apart swiftly."

"Usurper?" said Ser Erren, already turning purple. "Stay your foul tongue, Imp, before I remove it for you."

Tony Jones turned back to the knight, raising a hand for calm. "Please ser, I don't think this a place for threats. This is a place for talking. A parley of sorts."

"This ill-made little beast insults his grace" Ser Erren said, sounding outraged now. "How can I sit here and listen to this?"

"Already the dwarf lies between his teeth" Ser Stevron agreed, looking down at Tyrion sternly. "It does you no good to listen to him."

"Nonetheless, that is the purpose of this show" Tony Jones explained. "You must both present your case, as we discussed. It is for the audience to decide who speaks the truth." He turned back to Tyrion. "Trading insults is probably not for the best, my lord."

"He called my niece an abomination, ser" Tyrion pointed out.

"Yes, perhaps he should not be doing that either" the host said, glancing at Ser Erren, who held his tongue for the moment.

Pycelle piped up at this point. "Perhaps, my lords…" he wheezed. "If we cannot decide on who is the true king or queen by rights, the question then becomes, who would be the better ruler?"

Ser Stevron scoffed. "Myrcella is a girl of nine years. You would compare her to his grace, king Stannis?"

"Myrcella is just a girl, it is true" Pycelle rasped. "But her grandfather, Lord Tywin Lannister, who served as Hand of the King for nigh on twenty years, is a most capable regent. It is he that contends with Stannis, and I must agree with Lord Tyrion. While Lord Tywin and Ser Jaime stand strong, this war is very much in doubt."

All three of Stannis' supporters started talking, but it was Salladhor Saan who was the loudest.

"Tywin Lannister, yes. The old lion of the rock! Even in Lys, we know this name" he said with a smile. "We know him for drowning his own subjects like rats, and for sending his wild dogs to rape and plunder his enemies."

There were gasps from the audience. More whispering. Several people started talking, but Tony Jones tried to bring the commotion back under control.

"So I think…I think what you're referring to there, Salladhor Saan, is the Reyne-Tarbeck rebellion? An event that occurred in the year 262 of your calendar, or almost forty years ago?"

"Yes Tony, that is to what I refer. Tywin drowned an entire castle. Castamere, it was called. Hundreds of people, men, women and children. He had them all drowned, rather that accept an honourable surrender."

Tony turned back to him. "Lord Tyrion?"

Tyrion cocked his head. "There was a rebellion, from several of our vassals…This all happened well before I was born, of course. My father crushed it swiftly."

Salladhor chuckled. "Is that all you say? Even in the east, we speak of this barbarity. I have heard Dothraki speak in hushed tones of the sunset lord who cursed a river, and made it change course to drown his enemies."

"Your father, Lord Tywin, does not seem a gentle lord" Tony Jones said. "If anything, he sounds known for his brutality, and is it not true that your brother has now killed two kings?"

"Two mad kings" Tyrion replied, with a shrug, prompting guffaws from the audience. He frowned at the host. "Have you sworn yourself to Stannis already Tony, and simply haven't told us?"

"I am not sworn to anyone" Tony objected. "I'll just here to manage the discussion."

"But already you are taking sides."

"I just acknowledge the position of our government. We recognise Stannis as king, and Myrcella as pretender, but that does not mean you can't present your case to us."

"Hmmm, well we can talk of brutality, perhaps, but when my father acts, his actions are swift and decisive, as they need to be. Hundreds drowned at Castamere, yes. But should we have had a long and bloody siege instead? Where thousands might have died? And you seem to be overlooking the actions of Stannis and Robert, who started murdering children, my own nephew and cousins, the moment the Red Keep fell."

"A noble revenge" replied Ser Erren immediately. "For Robert's bastards, murdered by the command of your evil sister."

There were gasps from the audience at this. "Nought has been proven" Tyrion replied. "For all we know, Stannis ordered the bastards killed himself. To blame it on my family, and remove any threats to his power."

"Lies!" Ser Erren spat, almost shouting now. "You lie again! And still you lie!"

Salladhor Saan was chuckling again. "You Lannisters always work in the shadows, it is true. You slit people's throats, then the dawn comes and you show your hands and proclaim them clean. But we are not fooled. You show less mercy than Stannis, and have none of the king's sense of justice."

"Aye. King Stannis will prevail" Ser Erren proclaimed, thumping a gloved first on the desk before him. "Neither Myrcella nor Tywin compare to him. He who held Storm's End for a year, through the rebellion. Who rebuilt the Royal fleet and took Dragonstone. Who smashed the Greyjoys off Fair Isle, and took King's Landing with fewer than five thousand men. He is the bringer of Justice, the chosen of the lord, and friend to all flying men."

"Cavorter with demons, sorcerer, apostate, practitioner of black magic…" Tyrion continued for him.

The audience hushed at this. The room seemed to freeze. "Black magic?" Tony Jones asked, sounding bemused.

Tyrion smiled. "Well, perhaps? I am told you people do not believe in magic, and perhaps you are right. I was referring though to the red sorceress Stannis keeps on his council. The shadowbinder, Melisandre of Asshai. You're probably familiar with her. She's found of burning people alive."

"More lies" Ser Stevron said, now taking his turn to turn purple. "The Lady Melisandre has bought wisdom and good guidance to the king, and to the Seven Kingdoms. They are richer for her presence, and she has shown us great truth in the flames."

"Great truth in the flames?" Tony Jones asked, turning to the Master of Flying Machines. The audience followed his gaze.

"She has seen Stannis' victory, and shown many of us the same vision. She has seen him uniting the kingdoms, against the darkness that is coming."

Tony Jones blinked. More muttering from the audience as they looked between the two sides in bafflement. "Alright, Ser Stevron" the host said. "Most interesting." He turned back to the cameras. "We should mention some recent developments. Just days ago we heard that Doran Martell, the Prince of Dorne, has called his banners and is now marching to war in the name of King Stannis. Shortly before this, the Ironborn under Lord Balon Greyjoy attacked the Westerlands, and now appear to have sworn to King Stannis as well. With these developments, five of the 'seven kingdoms' have now sworn to him, against perhaps, one and a half, for Queen Myrcella." He turned back to Tyrion. "Again, your thoughts, my lord?"

"Well, you make it sound like we are doomed, Tony" Tyrion replied "but I don't think that's quite the case. The Dornish are divided, make no mistake. There are many pious houses in Dorne, more likely to rally for the faith than for this usurper. Prince Doran himself wished for peace; I am quite sure. His brother, Oberyn, who Stannis named his master of lightning, is the warmonger here. Thanks to him, a great deal of Dornish blood will be spilt, mostly by other Dornishmen. As for the Ironborn, I have not heard of Lord Balon publicly swearing his allegiance to any king or queen. More like than not, he has no master but himself. He will take some plunder and then go elsewhere."

"So you think these developments don't amount to much, my lord?"

Tyrion shrugged. "It doesn't change anything immediately. Though again, if we want to talk of brutality. I am told that the flying men hate slavery, that it is the act of savages, yet what are the Ironborn doing at this very moment? Why, they are taking thousands of my countrymen off in chains, with the full support of Stannis and his council."

"Both your father and king Stannis have sought alliance with the Ironborn" Salladhor Saan pointed out. "You cannot complain if you were outbid."

"Oh, what's this?" Tyrion asked. "A slaver? Sticking up for other slavers?"

More gasps from the audience. For a moment, Salladhor Saan looked affronted, but his expression quickly relaxed. Harder to get a rise out of this one Tyrion thought. The Lyseni's expression turned bemused again.

"You do not know of what you speak, dwarf. I have freed my slaves. Salladhor Saan no longer practices slavery."

"How convenient? And what made you experience this great change of heart?"

Salladhor pursed his lips. Expensive rings glinted on his fingers as his hands came together. He looked around the room at the watching audience. "Because I have seen this world, this world of wonders, and I think, let us have your machines, your lightning. With that, what need will we have for slaves?"

"So nothing more than shameless self-interest?" Tyrion pressed.

Salladhor Saan shrugged. "There have always been masters and slaves, have there not? Even in this world, so I hear, before you had your machines."

More muttering from the audience. "Perhaps the best way to put it" Tony Jones interjected, as if trying to regain control of the discussion. "Is that slavery as an institution now, is quite obsolete in our world. We had slavery. We did. As recently as a hundred and fifty years ago in the United States, even more recently in some other countries. But then the industrial revolution happened. Machines replaced slaves, and now all men, and women, can be free…or at least a lot freer than they were. This change happened in our world, and it can happen in yours, if you will embrace it."

"House Lannister practices no slavery" Tyrion objected. "We are not the Ironborn, or the Lyseni, who the usurper has allied himself with. We have also not turned away from the gods of our ancestors, and set about burning septs and heart trees across the kingdoms."

"The people have embraced R'hllor" Ser Stevron objected again, outraged. "Great lords and ladies and smallfolk alike have embraced his truth. Lady Whent was but the first of the riverlords. Now my own father is among them, and soon there will be others."

"Is that true, ser?" Tony Jones asked, with apparent interest. Yes, thought Tyrion. Is that true?

"It is" Ser Stevron said, puffing out his skinny chest. "Less than a moon's turn ago, the Lady Melisandre graced us with her presence at the Twins. I flew her there myself. After one night with her counsel, Lord Walder embraced R'hllor most willingly. Come the morning, we burned both our septs, and soon we shall be building a new temple to seek the lord's favour."

This was news to Tyrion. He resisted the urge to snigger, wondering exactly what Lord Walder and the red priestess had gotten up to that night. "And what became of your septons and septas, at the Twins?" he asked.

For a moment Ser Stevron seemed surprised by the question. "They embraced the lord too."

"Did they?" Tyrion pressed. "All of them?"

A flicker of annoyance came over the old knight's face. "Those who did not were permitted to leave in peace."

"And where did they go?"

"That is not my concern, dwarf."

Tyrion laughed. "Right to the nearest chapter of the faith militant, I expect. I have heard of them gathering at Stony Sept, and other places." He looked around the room. Every eye was upon him again. "Make no mistake, your people should be well aware, Westeros will never accept the Red God. Even if a few ambitious lords and ladies seek the usurper's favour, or have been forced at the point of a sword. They are as self-interested as Salladhor Saan here" Tyrion said, pointing at the Lyseni. "Perhaps I am but a vile little dwarf, but here me now. Stannis lost this war the day he burned down the Great Sept."

There was the sound of a chair toppling backwards. Ser Erren Florent was on his feet now. His overly large ears had turned as red as Tyrion's cloak. "I will not sit here and listen to this filth! If your tongue tells another lie, dwarf, I will remove it!"

Tony Jones rose as well, to try and calm the knight. Tyrion saw various people stir at this action. Several police, standing around the edges of the room, began advancing on the table. Bronn stood as well. Ser Erren reached for his belt, as if forgetting that his sword had been seized. His fingers closed in on air, flexing back and forth several times, seeking an absent hilt. All of their weapons had been confiscated beforehand. A wise precaution Tyrion admitted. But he tensed anyway. Possibly someone might have been able to sneak a dagger in.

Several people were calling for calm. Ser Stevron had grabbed the younger knight by the arm. Despite the pleas of Tony Jones, Ser Erren refused to take his seat again unless Tyrion was removed from the room. Tyrion continued to smile at the knight pleasantly, even taking a moment to present the tongue in question. Finally, their host seemed to lose patience. "I'm afraid it is not my place to remove him, Ser Erren. If you do not wish to talk, you are welcome to remove yourself from this discussion."

"Very well then" he fixed Tyrion with a looked of deepest loathing. "The next time we see each other, dwarf, I will remove your lying tongue."

"Will you?" Tyrion laughed. He raised his voice to make sure he was heard over the din. "It won't be hard to find, ser. Next time, just look up your mother's cunt."

Tyrion managed to duck just in time. Ser Stevron lost his grip as the younger knight lunged at him. Deftly, Tyrion slipped off his chair onto the floor. For a moment Ser Erren loomed over him, face twisted with rage. Several police were rushing over to intervene, but Bronn arrived first.

Smack.

With a balled fist, the sellsword knocked the Florent knight to the floor. Ser Erren struggled to rise to his feet, sputtering, before several police stepped between the two men. For a moment there was chaos. Ser Stevron was despairing, urging his companion to compose himself. Salladhor Saan remained seated, chuckling at the chaos. Pycelle looked concerned, only muttering 'oh dear, oh dear' repeatedly under his breath. Grinning wide, Tyrion took a moment to admire the bedlam he had caused, then remembered what its purpose had been. Before anyone could stop him he'd managed to leap back onto his chair, then used it as a stepping stone onto the desk. He stood at the centre of the room.

"My lords and ladies of Melbourne" he said with a deep bow towards the watching audience. He spread his arms wide. "I give you, the council of King Stannis!"

A few feet away, Tony Jones looked near furious as Ser Erren. He turned to the closest cameraman, urgently running a finger across his neck, as behind him the police led the wailing Florent knight out of the studio.

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(Sorry for the delay on this one guys. Work got a little busy moving into December. Now doing five days a week instead of four. My current role is actually part of the covid response here in Melbourne. Previously I was working at the airport. Now I'm driving around knocking on 15-20 doors a day, making sure people are isolating and its just slightly more exhausting. Will try and stick to the recent pace of a chapter every fortnight or so moving into the new year!)