Robb Stark was marching on the Crag. That was what the raven scroll had said. He didn't know what the Westerling Castellan thought he could do about it from King's Landing. Indeed, Robb had likely taken the hold by now, given the time it would have taken for the raven to arrive. He put the scroll to one side. He knew he should be wishing that his father free the Crag and the other holdfasts taken by Robb Stark. But if his father did that, then there was likely no hope for defending the city. Those holdfasts would be recaptured in time, but for now, he had to worry about the capital.
A knock at the door made him look up. Ser Gerold entered. "Ah," Loren said, sitting back in his chair. "You have news?"
Gerold nodded. "I do, my lord, good and bad."
He suspected the good would be flavoured with bad, it always was these days, if there was any good at all. "Start with the good," he said.
"Ser Sumner Jast has returned from Duskendale, my lord. He brings a levy of two hundred men and fourteen ships." He pressed his lips together. It was less than he would have wanted to come from Duskendale, they could certainly provide more, but every ship and soldier they could get their hands on would be important here.
"How many warships?" He asked.
"Two," Gerold replied. "And Ser Sumner tells me that he thinks the one he was on had a leaky hull, and he would hesitate to call the other battle worthy."
He wasn't truly surprised. Ever since the Rebellion the bulk of the Crownlands' navy had been stationed at Dragonstone and it's nearby islands. With such a strong protection force and a diligent Master of Ships there, the other houses had let their own ships diminish, dismissing them as costly encumbrances that weren't needed. If Stannis had been planning to rebel against Joffrey for a long time, perhaps he had helped orchestrate this, to give him total naval superiority on this coast of Westeros. The North hadn't had a fleet since long before the Targaryens had even arrived, although Varys was telling him that they were supposedly rebuilding their strength at sea now they were claiming independence. And the Vale fleet wasn't large, even if they were participating in this war, it wouldn't be enough to threaten Stannis Baratheon's navy. Only two fleets could do that, the Greyjoys, currently attacking the North, and the Redwyne's currently neutral fleet at the Arbor. Soon that fleet may be theirs, if Tyrion played his part, but it wouldn't be here in enough time to participate in the battle.
He sighed. "What else?"
"Ser Jacelyn reports that the Gold Cloaks are getting better, but he suspects that most of them will break if confronted with actual battle."
That didn't surprise him either. It was welcome that they were improving, but if it got to the situation that he was relying on the thousands of untrained Gold Cloaks, the battle was likely lost anyway. Thankfully, the men he had provided to Tyrion were of lesser quality, so he still had the best with him.
"But there is one bit of very good news," Ser Gerold said, holding out a letter, piquing his interest.
"What?" He asked.
"The smiths report that they are successful. The chain has been completed and is being taken to the towers as we speak."
He banged the table in triumph. "Yes!" He yelled. "Now we have a chance." He let out a laugh months in the making. "By the gods, Gerold, you could have said that sooner."
"I know," Gerold replied smiling.
Loren shook his head and poured two cups of wine. "Have a drink, Gerold," he said. The knight gladly took up one of the cups. He let himself celebrate for a while. The boom chain removed the immediate danger. Now Stannis would have to either raft the Rush against his fleet or take the longer route across the bay. But he only needed to buy as much time as possible, then his father could arrive, and hopefully the Tyrells with them. But there was still much to do, and the worse part of Gerold's news to come. "So," he said. "What was the bad news?"
Gerold nodded and put down the cup. "Your sister waits outside, my lord. I believe she has discovered what you"ve done with the young Prince."
"Ah," he said. He had been waiting for this. Tyrion had left with Tommen four days ago, she really should have noticed before this. "Well, no use keeping her waiting for so much longer. How many men are outside?"
"Four," Gerold said.
He nodded. "Send them in, then go and lead my sister in, please."
He bowed his head. "Of course," he said, turning and marching out the door. Four Lannister guardsmen entered and stood to attention.
"Take a place at each corner of this room," he told them and they obeyed. Then he laced his fingers on top of his desk and waited for Cersei to enter.
He didn't have to wait long, Gerold led her into the room, flanked by two Kingsguard knights, and she looked fiercer than most storms, eye alight like wildfire and barely restrained anger marring every contour. "Shouldn't you be with the King?" He asked the Kingsguard at her shoulders. Boros Blount looked sheepish, but Meryn looked blank and bleak.
"Do not try to change the subject!" Cersei snarled at him like a caged lion. He wasn't impressed. "You... you took Tommen away from me. You sent him with the monster!"
"You mean Tyrion. Yes, I did."
"Tommen is my son. Mine! Not yours. You have no right to take him away."
"Tommen is Joffrey's heir," he calmly reminded Cersei. "If he is kept in this city when it falls, he will die. I had to get him away to ensure there was at least one of Robert Baratheon's heirs that we can fight for."
"I planned to send Tommen to Rosby," Cersei said. "Lord Gyles would protect him."
Loren scoffed. "Lord Gyles would hand him over to Stannis Baratheon the second the city fell to him. Thanks to the bungling of your regency and Joffrey's tyrannical tendencies, no one will fight for a Lannister-backed claimant when we have lost the throne."
Cersei's gaze darkened. "Joff is-"
"A tyrant," Loren finished at once. "Don't even pretend otherwise. I would very much like to know where it came from."
"He always tried to mimic Robert."
"Say what you like about Robert Baratheon, no man justly called him a tyrant." This was Cersei's inadequate teaching on lordship. They both knew it, they could both see it. But perhaps only he could see that they both saw it.
"Rosby is loyal," Cersei declared, trying to deflect the conversation away from her failings.
"Rosby provided three ships, one of which sank before it got to the harbour, and not two hundred men to help defend the city." He got to his feet. "What is done is done, and it was the right thing to do," he told her. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go and see to the defences of the city." He marched past her. He half expected the Kingsguard to try and stop him, at which point Gerold and his guardsmen would kill them. But they didn't, they let him pass, and he made for the stables, he had to see the river, the battle may well be decided there.
()()()
He gazed along the riverfront. Hammers rang in the morning air as carpenters swarmed over the Mud Gate, extending wooden hoardings from the battlements. Those were coming well. He was a deal less pleased by the clutter of ramshackle structures that had been allowed to grow up behind the quays, attaching themselves to the city walls like barnacles on the hull of a ship; bait shacks and pot-shops, warehouses, merchants" stalls, alehouses, the cribs where the cheaper sort of whores spread their legs. It has to go, every bit of it. As it was, Stannis would hardly need scaling ladders to storm the walls.
"Ser Gerold," he called. "Prepare a hundred men to scour this lot from the quayside. Tell the people who live here they have one day to gather all of their possessions before the buildings come down."
"They won't like that," Gerold commented.
Lored nodded. "That's true." They had to be removed, but there was no reason that he had to blamed for it. Cersei didn't seem to care what anyone without a house thought of her. Or half of those who bore the name of a house for that matter. "Tell them that Queen Regent Cersei has demanded it, then give them their day."
Gerold chuckled and nodded. They rode along the shore. The ships of his fleet were setting off for the day. They were to practice rowing as fast as possible, for as long as possible, and quickly changing direction to row the other way. He had spread them out along the Rush. This would be vital to his battle plan, and he needed the crews in tip top shape. Carpenters and shipwrights not involved with the construction of hoardings on the walls were busy trying to make as many ships as possible seaworthy again. Perhaps it was a vain hope that they would be able to assist in some small capacity, but even if they could, Loren knew that Stannis' warships would trample over them like a knight on a beetle.
"What about the quays?" Gerold asked as they pulled up in line with the wooden structures jutting out into the Rush like long wooden fingers. "They will allow Stannis Baratheon to land his men quickly."
"But they also allow faster resupply of our own ships," Loren said. 'the boom chain should keep out Stannis Baratheon's navy. We need the quays for our own use." He looked at them in thought. "If the chain is breached we will sink merchantmen in them, deny them to the enemy," he said. 'that will ruin the quays if Stannis' fleet enters the Blackwater."
When they approached the end of the quays, Loren looked out over the two crude stone towers that would hold the boom chain. Right now they were trying to fit one end into the northern tower before a warship would carry the other end across to the other tower. The one on the northern bank was situated on a bluff with the Red Keep looking over it. The rocky terrain surrounding it made it impossible for ships to approach, and the proximity to the walls allowed it some level of protection. The one on the south bank he had paid more attention to, given that this was where Stannis Baratheon's host would be arriving. The tower had its footing in the water, a cut having been dug in the bank. It created a small moat to help protect the castle. A concerted assault would take it, but he aimed to make it too inconvenient to do so. It would likely have to be replaced if the chain was to be kept in the long term. The foundations would be too soft and eventually it would collapse, but that could be handled in the short term. "How many men are assigned to the towers?" He asked Gerold.
"Twenty in the northern tower, twice that number in the south," his knight replied.
Better safe than mournful. "Double the number in each," he told him. "And give them extra banners as well, we need those towers to last, if they fall, so does the chain, and so does the city."
"I will see it done," Gerold assured him.
"Good, for now, let us return. I believe the Spider had words for me today."
Varys was waiting for him in his solar when he returned. "My lord," he bowed, simpering.
"You have news for me?"
"I do," he said. "First, we have news from the North. Theon Greyjoy has taken Winterfell."
He froze. "Winterfell? You're certain?"
"I am, my lord," Varys assured him. "He now calls himself the Prince of Winterfell. I hear he took the castle with as few as fifty men."
Loren sat down and allowed a smile to grace his features. Last week Harrenhal had been taken by the Starks, now Winterfell had been taken from them. Robb Stark would have to answer, somehow. It was unlikely he would return to the North himself so quickly. But he would at least be given reason to pause from his campaign in the West, granting his home some reprieve. 'that might seem to secure my northern flank."
"Perhaps permanently," Varys said. "I picked up this raven scroll on the way here."
"And opened it," Loren said. How else would he know that the contents were for permanence?
"Not so, my lord, do you truly trust me so little?" Varys asked with a giggle.
'truly," Loren said.
"Well, I only say perhaps permanently by the seal," Varys replied.
He looked at the seal. A Greyjoy Kraken. He didn't rise to the Spider's bait, instead he simply slit the seal and unfurled it. He read the contents and laughed. "Lord Balon invites King Joffrey to send an emissary to the isles to arrange an alliance and discuss the setting of new borders." He looked down at the end of the message. "He styles himself as King of the Isles and the North." He laughed and threw it down. "What madness that he thinks any will accept. Perhaps we could have offered terms if he had held back his ships. But by attacking first he has done more for us than he ever could by seizing half the continent from us with our blessing." He shook his head at Lord Balon's stupidity. How Lord Quellon had produced such a son, he never knew. "Is there anything else?"
"Indeed, my lord, news less joyous for us, I fear. My birds in Storm's End report that King Stannis is nearing a full recovery. He will likely be marching within the week." That was most unwelcome. "His son does not have his patience, with most of the Fleet he has sailed for the Rush."
Loren nodded. He couldn't think to take the city without the army, but he could seal the Gullet again, and then raid the coast, sending more refugees into his arms, and more mouths with them. But there was nothing to be done about it until the battle. He would be damned before he sent his fleet to protect every town and village under his stewardship during Joffrey incompetency. "So it will soon begin," he muttered.
"And I have one more matter to discuss of that nature," Varys said. He held out a list of names.
"What's this?" He asked.
"A list of dissidents," Varys replied. 'they call themselves the Antler Men, after the Baratheon sigil."
"I know some of these names. These are rich men. Traders, merchants, craftsmen. Why should they conspire against us?" Aside from the way Joffrey and Cersei were treating anyone that is.
"It seems they believe that Lord Stannis must win, and wish to share his victory."
If Tyrion were here he would make a jest about changed sigils. It was true that Stannis had adopted a new sigil, it seemed. But so had Joffrey. He had hoped to do something about it, but Cersei would have his guts, and he needed her on his side. The people would be more inspired if they were fighting under the banner of good King Robert, this new one was a stranger to them. It was no matter for jests, though; it appeared that these Antler Men had armed several hundred followers, to seize the King's Gate once battle was joined, and admit the enemy to the city.
He sighed. That wouldn't do. It was time to rile up a little more hatred against the Lannisters. He reached for his quill and scrawled out the orders to arrest all of the named men, and hoped that was most of the treason.
