Chapter Forty: The People V. Cthulu, Who Is Worse?
Thirteenth Day of the Eleventh Month, 114 AC.
My first action upon waking was to deliver Laena a vicious headbutt as I shot up from where I lay.
"Hells!" I shouted from a mix of pain, shock and the sheer momentum of that nonsensical nightmare (I was not quite ready to admit that ot bad been far more) while cradling my jaw.
My second action was to look around me.
Ebermen stood to one side, flanked by Morgan and Omeld.
To the other was an amused-looking Arral and a much less pleased Laena who was rubbing her own lips from where my chin had driven into her face.
"Laena!" My eyes widened in concern before remembering my manners. "My Lady, I apologize, I did not mean to-"
I was cut off as she wrapped her arms around me and pulled me into an embrace.
"You awoke," She said with audible relief.
That… is… I was mildly concerned that she was so pleased after receiving such a blow.
Far greater was the issue of her being present however, I was not exactly in a fit state after all.
But I returned the gesture and ran a hand through her fine mane, if the moment had gotten her to open up even a bit, it would have been foolish to not accept it regardless of my shaken everything.
It was also an opportunity to glance over at the sunset. If I was not mistaken I could not have been out of it for longer than an hour or two.
Which was good considering…
That was easily one of the bluntest attempts at coercion ever, I noted with something akin to a shell-shocked humor while stroking Laena's back. It was difficult to ignore the warm tingles of pain which arched through my fingers but nothing could be done about that.
I flicked my eyes to meet Ebermen's emerald ones.
"Lady Laena wished to see you, my prince," The shield explained, reading the question in my eyes. "We found you indisposed."
I gave him a slight nod as Laena pulled back, seeming to realize that she had overstepped.
"I-indisposed?" She turned to the Bulwer, "He was-"
"Taking a brief nap," I interrupted her with my best attempt at a toothy smile. "Just a headache from the dreams, my lady. Nothing to trouble yourself with."
"Indeed," Ser Morgan added quickly. "His Grace sometimes suffers from aches when the dreams come."
The youngest of my guard was unfortunately not the best liar despite the attempt and the words came out stuttery and incredibly unconvincing.
Omeld turned his helmet to his youngest peer for a moment before nodding in confirmation. "That is the case, my lady. I am sure that you understand our hesitance to speak of it."
"As you say," Ebermen echoed with a guarded nod that was far more convincing.
Arral gave them both a look while tugging his beard and giving a thoughtful nod.
"See?" I said with a bright smile. "Nothing to worry about, the dreams are just a bit strong at times."
Laena gave me a confused look with her brows arched, "I ha-ad not heard that they were cap-capable of-"
"Oh!" Arral snapped his fingers as my jaw locked. "Cannot say! Of course! Of course! Like the last time?!"
My eyes widened, That… that works.
"I am embarrassed to say that I often ask for secrecy from the witnesses," I only-technically lied while scratching the back of my head and chuckling awkwardly. "It is not very becoming for a prince to be prone to fainting spells!"
That was hopefully a Westerosi-enough reason for her to believe it. People did not like to admit to health conditions, much less in a society run off pretending to be tough.
"Of-of course," Her words trembled slightly as she seemed to pull into herself and I repressed a groan.
It was the same sort of 'kicked dog' reflex that I had realized was normal for Laena.
She is trying to be kind and you are being a total prick, I thought to myself. Granted, it is a bit difficult to be considerate right now.
It was actually a pleasant surprise that breakfast, lunch and even dinner were still in my guts.
I grit my teeth and swallowed back the impulse as the several thousand memories slipped in sequence over my consciousness like a whale passing by a guppy.
"I am sorry, my lady," Keeping a warm smile was not easy. "My head is not quite on straight at the moment, I fear. It is good that you have come as it happens."
She gave me a confused look that matched my own internal confusion as I struggled to string together something coherent.
"How?" The Velaryon said the word slowly, her fine lips curving carefully.
"We are to be wed are we not?" I passed a hand over my head while maintaining my chuckle, to hide that I was talking out of my rear. "I had meant to inform you of my unfortunate issue. It is unfortunate that you see it firsthand. I assure that I am not addled or anything of the sort, could I perhaps put my confidence in you?"
That is literally the most blatant Bulwershit I have ever said, I thought in horror.
Laena's lips straightened as her lilac eyes widened.
"You-you are willing to trust me?" She asked as of I had a choice in the matter.
Roll with it.
"Well, you have already entrusted me with quite a few of your own," I offered.
She considered that, "You are correct. Yes, Princ-Gaemon, I will not breath a word of this."
Her smile put the warier part of me on edge, but I hoped that it was gratitude at the perceived trust.
Ebermen cleared his throat, "The Lady Laena had a manner she wished to discuss with you, my Prince."
"Yes!" Laena said with something resembling excitement and I realized that she brought a small pile of scrolls with her in a small satchel over her riding leathers. "I know that you promised to show me, but I had some thoughts- I thought it might please if we-"
I could not help but reflect on the circumstances as she went off.
Not exactly in the state for this! I grumbled internally but I was vividly aware of my rather delicate position. Laena seemed happy and had actually taken initiative. I did not want to disrupt her.
Little did I know that she had latched on my mention of Valyrian Dragon Ships on that little beach and wanted to show me a number of sketches she had prepared about displacement tonnage.
The strangest thing was… that seeing Laena so excited and enthralled by the subject was remarkably calming.
…
By the time that Laena departed, I was actually in a decent mood.
Almost.
"Archmaester," I sighed as settled into the study I had borrowed. "I assume you heard about the full-extent of my problem?"
"The stone?!" Arral shouted while nodding. "Yes! Yes! I heard! Quite vexing that it is missing!"
I had noticed while Laena was talking that the damned Rock of Pain had vanished from the tower, which bode poorly given the state of my hand.
Flexing my fingers brought some discomfort still but it had settled somewhat as the hours had passed, the bigger problem was the slight discoloration of the veins which had entirely too dark a look beneath the skin… it was almost grey.
Better start wearing gloves, I grimaced at the ugly wrong move and people are going to start thinking Greyscale.
I let out a huff, "Would you be so kind as to not leave any potentially-murderous stones near me in the future?"
"But all of the best stones are at least a touch murderous!" The Archmaester protested indignantly while tugging at one of his lemon-stiffened tuffs of hair. "Did not expect that one to be murderous however!"
"Where did you even find it?" I asked as Ebermen handed me a cup of tea. "There were a lot of them if I recall."
Enough for a considerable pile.
"Oh?!" Arral tilted his head sharply like a turning triangle. "Yes! The stone were laying around! In one of the holdfasts!"
"Holdfasts?" I frowned, there were three different houses of landed knights with holdings near to the cove we had used but they had been at a considerable distance.
"Theoretically! My theory draws from their structures! Their sizes were fairly small from my measurements! Their burial made it difficult to judge!" The Archmaester explained easily while I pieced together what he meant.
"You were looting the stones from a buried fortification?" I said slowly while putting my face in my hands. "Where?!"
"They were at the bottom of a cavern not far from the cove!" Arral said with amusement. "I must give Archmaester Brune my apologies when we return! This 'spelunking' is quite useful!"
"You-what-why-oh nevermind!" I sighed while shaking my head. "You found ruins then?"
"Yes!" Arral nodded with renewed excitement. "Blackstone of the slimy variety! The entire complex! And filled with those stones! I had thought that you might find them interesting! So, I continued bringing you different ones in the hopes you might find one interesting!"
I might have been upset but I ultimately shook my head and reprimanded myself for ignoring the Archmaester's eccentricities. It was one thing to tune out his stories, but it had been pure idiocy to ignore the stones.
"We will have to look into these ruins sometime," I grumbled as I sipped from my tea.
Not that that there would be much point to it.
There is one mystery that I would have rather not have learned about.
Whatever weird sorcery I had gotten myself involved with by accident, I had unearthed something, and it was something which was not inclined to let me be.
I starred at the window which Clearsky had slipped her head in through and met her silver-cobalt eyes with my own.
From the moment we met, I probably screwed myself, I thought. Weird to say that I can't quite regret it.
The vision had been so clear, so stuffed with information.
It had been obvious from the Hightower Tomb that the Valyrians had not been the first to tame dragons, the first to worship their gods, to use their magical weirdness. I had been naïve to think that it was all so simple as quitting or that the factors were not interlinked.
But who could have guessed that some nonsensical cult-hivemind-thing was at work like the creepy tree-library the northerners were worshipping? I was not mad enough to believe in something like actual gods which had any benevolent intent but if there was anything to the memory's warnings, then I had better start hoping.
Best case is some sort of ghost-cult and the alternative is an actual god, I cursed again. The actual content of the memories was even more confusing, so many races and dragons, each different from the last and the sequence moving so infuriatingly fast that I could not isolate any one of them.
I regarded my hand again.
One thing had been clear.
I might not have a choice in whether I stuck that dagger in my heart or not.
"Just lovely," I grumbled before clearing my throat and opting to change the subject. "Have they asked you any further about the incident?"
"Incident?!" Arral tiled his head to the other side. "Oh yes! The affair regarding Morning Solace! Not at all! Everyone seems quite interested! But they did not care much about my views! I think Lord Redwyne dislikes me! Cannot imagine why!"
I looked at the Maester with a raised brow.
"Oh fine!" He rolled his eyes. "I am clearly viewed as a reliable collaborator! Quite inconvenient! Not interested in pursuing acknowledgement! For good reason! Every other ruler I have impressed has tried to make me a eunic! My balls might be shriveled but they are mighty yet! An you would not believe how many rituals require cons-"
"I fully understand and promise not to castrate you!" I interrupted the potentially mind-scarring tangent quickly. "But I will need your assistance."
"Assistance?!" Arral frowned. "Well! Well! With what?!"
I resisted the urge to facepalm, "With Ormund's affair."
"Oh! Oh! Oh!" Arral began nodding heavily like a spring-mounted toy's head. "Ormund! Yes! I suppose he is being somewhat inconvenienced! Of course! Of course! Lymon might even pay me some considerable lemon cakes for my part!"
I regarded the Maester for a long moment before snorting.
"That will work," I chuckled.
…
I sipped from another cup of tea while my 'council' sat in the small sitting room that I had been lent.
Arral nibbled at a small pile of tarts while Nessa went over her notes and Ebermen stood to my side while a number of my Pendants stood around us.
"So…" I waved.
"No one spoke up," Nessa tapped her ledger. "Or it is more accurate to say that none knowingly spoke."
"Ah, Yes! Gossip!" Arral clapped excitedly.
"Quite," Nessa gave him a dry look. "Would you struggle repeating the servant's description Archmaester?"
According to what I knew of the concoction, it should mix up events like a blender but to no one's surprise the reedy little Ironborn had the endurance of an elephant and had retained the bulk of his memory.
"Quite a middling fellow! I am not sure I recall much," The Archmaester nodded. "Hazel hair with roughly two shades towards blonde. Mud-brown eyes with slight reddening in the left eye and a slight irregularity of volume in the right nostril. Pox marks to the left of the neck. Five foot and nine inches, just a touch above average height. Ten stones and three pounds. Inclination towards muscle on an otherwise athletic build. Yellowing on the middle digit some cracking on the nails. Surprisingly good teeth. Unfortunately, I do not recall much else."
Nessa blinked for a moment.
"Well I had been looking for 'not especially tall, handsome, short blonde hair', but that will have to suffice, Archmaester," The aide shook her head. "That confirms it then. We have pieced together which servants were present during the feast and its aftermath. We judged this criterion against what could be said of recent spending patterns among those servants who would have had easy access to the Redwyne Wine Cellar."
I tried to hide my surprise, Nessa had a tendency towards incredible efficiency, but she had worked out quite a bit given that the Pendants had only a half-day to work.
"The Vine is a considerable seat," Ebermen commented. "Their kitchens must keep considerable staff."
"Well over a hundred," Nessa nodded. "We have considered spending habits against rumors of past conflicts and consulted local drinking establishments. That narrowed our list considerably. We had approximately a dozen candidates with the most generous application of the parameters."
"Beyond that point?" I asked at the almost-frightening scale of the operation among my staff.
Her smile turned towards the unsettling, "We were quite fortunate to be able to schedule discussions with the candidates, most were quite agreeable, and their stories were easily confirmed. A golden coin was delivered to each of course, along with the gratitude of the prince for their aid in finding a rare vintage he meant to request from their lord."
"I am not yet eight and you are already giving me a reputation for drink," I rolled my eyes. "I will surely become quite the drunkard!"
"As you say," Ebermen confirmed while Clearsky snorted from her window where two pendants were polishing her teeth.
"We successfully discovered our poisoner on the eighth subject," Nessa showed her pearly teeth. "His name is Lipper, called 'Lip' by some of the more persuadable ladies of the court, and he rather nicely fits the Archmaester's description. It was auspicious that it was him as it happens."
"Oh?" I asked.
"He was in Willifred's bed when we were looking for him," Nessa shook her head in disapproval of the behaviour of one of my Pendant maids.
"I suppose he was invited in?" Willifred was a comely girl and liked to prove it. She single-handedly consumed an annoyingly expensive amount of Moon Tea.
Nessa tapped her ledger, "I think you know the answer and she was the one to restrain him when he attempted to flee the first time, would you like to meet him, My Prince?"
"Of course," I snorted.
"I had hoped so," My former nanny dipped her head and called for the fellow to be called in.
A rather handsome boy of maybe twenty clutching a bottle as if his life depended on it. From the way Hubert and Frederick followed him, I could tell that he was probably aware that his life well might.
Except for the part where I do not have it in me to kill a man for doing a bit of extra work, I admitted. Well, usually. I will probably not kill him.
For one thing, it would have been far too obvious if he vanished after delivering a bottle to my room.
"Hello," I greeted him pleasantly while clapping my hands together and smiling with all my teeth. "Hello, Lipper."
"Y-yer grace," He had a very soft voice, warm in the sort of way that screamed 'bad-idea but do it anyway'. "I didn't mean anything by it. Girl was willing, I swear!"
"What do you mean?" I dipped my head while putting a finger on my lips like a confused child. "I'm afraid that I do not understand. Who was willing?"
That seemed to throw him off, "The wench-erm, the lady. She wanted it, I'm no raper!"
"You have not been accused of such a crime," Nessa said patiently. "Although I would warn you that gelding might well be preferable to the punishment for treason."
"Treason?!" The man yelped. And almost dropped the bottle.
"For use of a mixture held to be solely within the King's providence!" Arral declared.
The young blonde licked his lips and looked back and forth between the councilors.
"Unless you tell the prince what you told us," My aide offered with a smile that seemed incredibly pleased. "Then you have just done your duty as a loyal retainer of House Redwyne."
"I-I-I," He fished for words. "I didn't know milord-erm, mi prince!"
"Milord will do," I chuckled. "What did you not know?"
"The drink! I did not know what was in the drink!" He said quickly, "Honest! The coin was good, good coin for a little bit of powder, my sister is wedding soon and our Da didn't have nothing to send her off with."
"Your sister will be seen to," I said patiently. "Give us an answer and you will have fifty dragons given to her on her wedding day."
A veritable fortune by smallfolk standards, not bad for lesser nobility either in truth. I felt the need to tack that last bit on despite Nessa's slightly disapproving look when the man seemed inclined to interpret my initial statement as a Ramsay-threat.
"Fif-fifty?!" The wine-boy fumbled with the word. "Fifty gold coins?"
"That is what I said," I said patiently. "And if you are lying, I will expect it back with interest."
"Not lying, milord," He said quickly as he grasped the lifeline I tossed him. "Lipper's an honest man, I swear by the Seven!"
"Then who gave you the substance, Lipper?" I asked. "Who paid you?"
"A Ser from Oldtown," The boy said confidently. "Rocleaf was his name. I never forget names, milord!"
Oh…
Oh shit.
My reaction must have been written on my face because Nessa nodded with a look torn between triumph and annoyance. "Do you remember him, My Prince?"
"Of course," I nodded while massaging my face with both hands.
I had made a habit of memorizing the names of most of the more notable retainers and servants in the Hightower.
Well enough to know the name of my grandfather's guard-captain.
Maybe stabbing myself in the chest is not such a bad idea after all.