Loren peered out from under his hood as his escort rode past the scorched ruin of Fleabottom. Tarpaulins were erected in the rubble for families to huddle under, there was no sign of any major rebuilding effort and those he could see there were stuffing their faces with food supplies like they hadn't eaten in weeks. "King's Landing," Loren muttered. "Where the king is willful, the council weak and the people wretched."
"My lord," one of his knights spoke from behind him. "We should keep moving." The knight was no doubt thinking of Margaery's kidnapping. Loren doubted anyone would try anything with twenty knights surrounding him and his identity hidden, but without Gerold, he felt unprotected.
"Carry on," he said.
His escort pushed aside the throngs of King's Landing with their horses. They were making for granaries to collect their daily rations, and were so intent on it that the only attention they paid to a passing lord flying no banner was a single glance.
The going only got easier as they approached the Red Keep, where a line of goldcloaks kept any who attempted to approach at a safe distance. They did their due diligence and commanded that his escort stop as they approached the keep. One of the White Cloaks, Loren couldn't tell who under his helm, commanded them. "Who approaches the Red Keep?" Ser Balon Swann asked.
"I do," Loren said. He reached into his cloak and pulled out his badge of office, holding it out in his palm for Balon to see. Balon raised his visor and peered up at Loren, so he raised the hood of his cloak ever so slightly so that his face was visible.
"Please approach Lord Lo- my lord," he caught himself, catching himself.
"Thank you, ser Balon," Loren said, relieved that Balon hadn't revealed his identity. He had sent no word ahead to say that he was hiding it, but Balon had read the situation well and let him pass without comment.
Unfortunately, Loren's entry can't have gone entirely unnoticed, because Tyrion was waiting for him at the top of the steps leading into the Keep. "Brother," Tyrion said with a smile.
"Tyrion," Loren replied, keeping his hood up until they crossed the threshold and then taking it down.
"Was your journey safe?"
"Quick and uneventful, the best I could hope for," Loren said.
"And just quick enough to stop a riot as well, your food supplies are most appreciated, by the council and the people. Which makes it all the more strange to me why the people's hero chose not to show them that he had arrived, but instead comes through a side gate hidden by a cloak."
"Like as not, I'll be in the field again before long, I don't need to be held up by adoring crowds, the war isn't won yet."
"Then we'd best hurry to the council chambers. Lord Rowan's messenger arrived a short while ago."
"Yes let's," Loren replied.
As they made their way up the stairs, Tyrion asked. "Where is Ser Gerold, I'm surprised he left your side after what happened last time you were here?"
Loren froze. When Tyrion realised Loren had stopped and turned to face him, they were on an eye level. "Brother?"
Loren was finally able to swallow the lump in his throat. "He died," he said quietly.
Tyrion was silent for many long moments. "My condolensces."
"Let's get to the council," Loren said.
"Of course." Tyrion led the way and Loren followed.
The council waited for him, or what was left that wasn't negotiating with the Starks. "You're certain that Stannis Baratheon is dead?" Cersei demanded from the head of the table.
"As certain as I can be not having seen the body." Loren replied.
"Lord Varys, what can you say to this?" Margaery asked.
"My little birds haven't flown from Storm's End in a while," Varys said. "I fear I can't tell you one way or another," he said sorrowfully.
"Then how do you know this isn't some trick?" Margaery asked Loren. There was a fire in her eyes that Loren didn't recognise from before her brief captivity.
"This would be the kind of deception you use to get an advantage in the moment," Loren said. "But to sell the idea that he is dead Stannis has surrendered every advantage. He was fighting the war on our territory, living off our land. He had cut the Roseroad and held many strong castles. Now he has lost those castles, the road is open and his army is back in his home territory. A commander of Stannis' skill never would have surrendered so much for so little gain. He is dead."
"You took the castles back, did you get hostages?" Margaery asked.
"Bastards and the sons and daughters of second lines. If there were any hostages of note, Stannis' army took them with him."
"Back to the Stormlands?"
"Yes."
Littlefinger was the next to question him. "Why would Stannis' Hand not command the army to remain in the Reach, if he is dead, as you say, then the Hand would have taken command. You said in your reports that he does have one?"
Loren nodded. "His goodbrother, Bryce Caron. But his Hand made the right choice. If Stannis is dead, some of his lords, particularly his Reacher lords might be tempted to abandon him to protec their own lands. It's likely that Lord Caron wanted to get the army and the lords back to Storm's End before they realised Stannis was dead to prevent that happening."
"So now we have the castles but their owners will want them back," Margaery said. "So, shall we offer them back as bribes, or reward our loyal followers?"
"They had the chance to return to us after the Blackwater, they didn't." Cersei said.
"I agree," Margaery said. "I say we attaint them tomorrow."
"Now this I didn't think to see," Tyrion said. "I can't remember you two agreeing on something for months."
"We can attaint all we like when we know victory is certain," Loren replied. "But Stannis was not out only foe. He had a family."
He didn't like the murderous smile that crossed Cersei's face. "A smaller one now."
"What do you mean?"
Cersei gestured for another man to step forward. Loren hadn't seen him at first, as he was stood in a corner. He was a knight clearly, but not one Loren knew. Battle-worn, battle-scarred and, clear to the eye of Loren alone in the chamber, battle-weary. "Ser Ryland," tell the Lord Marshall your news.
Ser Ryland bowed. "Lord Marshall, I rode with Lord Rowan against the Baratheon forces to the north."
"Stannis Baratheon," Loren corrected. "We also fight for House Baratheon."
"Yes, my lord," Ryland said. "During the siege of Pyle Castle, lord Stannis' son Lyonel, who was commanding the defence, was killed in our attack on the keep."
Loren forced himself not to show any reaction. "You're certain of this?"
"Yes my lord. I saw him myself, as did Lord Rowan, in fact my lord spoke with lord Lyonel as he lay dying." Ryland's face softened. "He had diginity, even as he was dying."
"You saw him die?"
"No, my lord, none of us saw him die. A relief army arrived and we were forced away from the castle."
"You didn't collect his head?"
"He had led a formidable defence. My lord allowed him to die alone. We were going to collect it after he had done so and bring it back, but, well, as I said a relief army came. But I do have this." He drew out a document, the seal already broken. "A document, signed by all the knights who were with Lord Rowan and can attest that Lyonel Baratheon suffered a mortal wound from which there is no chance he could recover."
"What was the wound?"
"His side was pierced," Ryland indicated where on his body, right in his rib cage. "A heavy maul I believe."
Loren took the letter and scanned the names. Some were knights of note, and all risked their lives if they were wrong and Lyonel Baratheon were to return later.
"So," Cersei said, bringing the attention back to herself at the head of the council table. "As you can see, Lord Marshall. We are blessed. Stannis' house has been wiped out in the male line."
"It is fortunate for us," Lyonel said.
"Very fortunate," Margaery Tyrell. "With the male line ended, so is their threat to us."
"You're certain?" Loren asked. He knew Stannis Baratheon also had a daughter, though he had never met her. He'd met her mother though, and if she had passed on half her traits to her daughter, Loren doubted they would surrender the claim.
"The rebels won't fight for a girl," Cersei said dismissively.
"Is that so? Tell me sister, if Stannis and his son lived, and it was Joffrey and Tommen who died, would you surrender Myrcella's claim to her uncle? Or would you continue to fight for her? And you, lady Margaery. You have stood opposed to Stannis' claim twice over. Would House Tyrell go to him and beg for his mercy, or would you fight for the rightful queen?"
"This girl has never commanded an army. Stannis brought with him experience and knowledge of war, with his line secure in the life of his son. Now their power rests on a young girl, who will endanger her life with every pregnancy and can't offer anything like her father could," Cersei reminded him. "Who would hitch their wagon to that horse?"
"She lacks her father's talent in war, and her brother's way of inspiring his men," Loren conceded. "But with both of them gone, she could offer something far greater."
"What?" his sister demanded.
"While her father and brother lived, she was a useful tool for a marriage alliance," Loren said. "But now, she could offer any potential husband a crown."
Tyrion sat forward. "You mean Robb Stark," he said.
Loren nodded. "Robb Stark took half the kingdoms with the sword, he could have the other half with a wedding." Stannis had been committed to taking all the Seven Kingdoms, would his daughter share that conviction?
"Robb Stark is promised to a daughter of Walder Frey," Cersei said.
"And Joffrey was promised to Sansa Stark. A betrothal can be broken when expedient. And so what if Robb upsets Lord Frey, when is Lord Frey not upset with one thing or another. Besides, Lord Frey can't have so many years left in him. He wouldn't have to stomach it for long."
"So what do you propose then?" Margaery asked.
"Finish the negotiations with Robb Stark, quickly. Contain the stormlands, use negotiation to peel off as many lords from Stannis' camp as possible, and then move in on them to crush them once and for all."
"Is negotiation better than moving quickly, should we not strike to take immediate advantage?" Tyrion asked.
"I would rather try to weaken the enemy through negotiation first," Loren said. "Every lord we can convince to return to our fold is one less we would have to fight, and it would give us time to bring in new recruits to bolster our army before we attack."
"And what do we do about Dragonstone?" Margaery asked. "As long as she remains on that island fortress, Stannis' daughter is out of our reach."
"We'll have the resources of the south to work with, we can build more fleets and defeat them through numbers," Loren assured the council."
"I don't think that would be necessary," Littlefinger said. "When the war ends, then Essos will be eager to restart commerce with us once again, and for that they would need access to King's Landing for their ships. Without their footholds, Shireen Baratheon would be a queen of piracy and nothing more. We'll be able to convince the Free Cities to provide ships to help crush her."
"And save us the cost of rebuilding the fleet," Cersei said.
Loren wasn't sure what the free cities would ask of them in return for their aid at sea, but it must surely be worth it, rather than seeing more sailors sent to die.
"You must have contacts in the free cities, Lord Baelish," Loren said softly. "People you could lean on for such an arrangement?"
"I could certainly try, were the council to command it," Littlefinger said pointedly. "It would take more time, we'd need to send messages from ports not linked to Blackwater Bay and under our control, but I would be happy to start compiling a list."
"Do it," Cersei said, splaying her hands on the table. "Send word to my father to conclude our negotiations with the Starks as quickly as possible. Loren, you return to the field, start getting the army ready to march on Storm's End."
"I'll depart this evening," Loren said, glad to be returning to the army. It would take time to build up to the invasion of the Stormlands, but at last the end of the war was in sight. He straightened the badge of King's Marshall as he left the room.
