Chapter 58: Magic
"So, Ser Wendel, I believe I have you to thank for the destruction of the Ironborn in the North?" The King asked.
They were walking near the water that made up the Blackwater, Ser Barristan walked in front of them, Ser Jon walked behind them. Wendel wondered if this was a friendly conversation or an interrogation. He decided to take it as the former.
"I played a small role in assisting, Your Grace. But the north would have won regardless of whether I contributed or not." That was the truth, the Ironborn were fools who'd spread themselves too thin to begin with. He'd just had the pleasure of using their God against them.
The King smiled. "That is not what my brother has told me. Indeed, he has told me, as has Ser Rodrik, that your role in ensuring victory was quite significant. Be it at Deepwood Motte where you sunk the Ironborn's ships and terrorised their men or be it at Moat Cailin where you tore them to shreds."
Wendel glanced at the King as they continued to walk, much like his father, it was difficult to know what the man was thinking. He considered playing the abashed courtier but figured that if the King was anything like his father, that was more like to annoy him. So, instead, he simply said. "It is true. I ensured the Ironborn lost."
The King didn't stop walking, instead, he simply asked. "How did you do it?"
Wendel took a moment to gather his thoughts, once he'd arranged them in a vaguely coherent order, he replied. "I made a deal with the Deep Ones."
The King didn't stop walking, instead he asked. "Do you mean those creatures that are told in stories to scare children?"
"The very same." Wendel answered. "I knew they resided in the waters near Pyke, and when Balon Greyjoy attempted to have me drowned, I reached out to them. I agreed that in return for my life when the time was right, they would assist me now in destroying the Ironborn."
"Why?" The King asked. "Why did you reach out to them? How did you know they would respond?"
Wendel took a breath, this was the part he had been dreading. Every Stark King had known the truth about the Manderlys and why they'd fled the Reach, that had continued until Rickard Stark had died in King's Landing. Lord Eddard hadn't known.
"Because we worship them." Wendel said.
Still the King didn't stop walking. "What do you mean?"
"Our worship of the Faith is a mere disguise. The merman on our crest is one of the Deep Ones, one of the Gods we worship. When we were expelled from the Reach it was because the Peakes had discovered the truth and used that to force us away. Your ancestors knew this and protected us, for the Deep Ones and the Old Gods are kin, though many of the Northern Lords at the time didn't want us in the north for fear we'd bring a crusade from the south with us. In White Harbour, underneath the Sept, there is a temple to the Deep Ones, including the King of the Seas, the Great Merman." Wendel explained.
Surprisingly the King took this news well, or perhaps he was still digesting it. "And you knew that the Iron Islands would be where they would respond to you?"
"Yes." Wendel replied. "We have known for about a century that that is where they congregated largely because of the Ironborn's tendency to sacrifice people to them. The Ironborn didn't know what they were doing of course, but they still did it."
"And why did they respond to you?" The King asked.
"Because my family is the last of the Order of the Green Hand, an order that was dedicated to protecting their shrines and their places of refuge in the Reach." Wendel replied.
The King nodded but still didn't stop walking. "Show me." He commanded.
"Your Grace?" Wendel replied.
"Show me this connection." The King commanded.
Wendel wanted to protest, but he knew that the King was not a man you refused, and so, he closed his eyes and reached out with the tendrils of his mind. Deep in the dark he got a response, he felt the shuddering, and opened his eyes as the King gasped.
There towering over them in the water was the great Merman himself. White of body, green of hair, with piercing black eyes. The King of the Deep looked at them. Wendel was shocked when the King laughed.
"So, you are real, eh?" The King said staring right at the King of the Deep. The Deep said nothing merely looked at the King. "Don't eat anything that cannot be replaced." The King added before nodding to the Deep and turning to look at Wendel.
Wendel was shocked, he'd expected cowering, or something more. He glanced at the King of the Deep-was that a smirk on the great one's face-the Deep disappeared back into the water and it was as if there was nothing different about the world.
"You will head back north." The King commanded.
"Sire?" Wendel asked surprised.
In a voice that didn't sound like his own the King replied. "The Age of Fire is ending, the Age of Ice is approaching, we must be prepared. The dragons will not like that."
"The creature was a bloody giant, with green hair and a body white as snow!" Robb said to Myrcella as they got into bed.
"And Ser Wendel said that it was the King of the Deep?" Myrcella asked.
"He gave it a few names." Robb replied. "King of the Seas and the Great Merman, were two of the names."
"And did he explain more about how they helped him?" Myrcella asked.
"Yes." Robb replied. "It seems his family has been worshipping the Deep Ones this entire time, and that their worship of the Seven is only a façade dating back to when they were in the Reach. Somehow the Peakes learned of this and it led to them being removed. My ancestors welcomed them and sheltered them. They continued to worship the Deep Ones and Wendel knew that the Deep Ones were located near Pyke due to the sacrifices the Ironborn made in the region."
Myrcella hummed as she settled into bed, Robb shifted slightly, and allowed her to put her head on his chest.
"I saw the Great Merman in person." Robb whispered, still slightly in awe of that fact. He had seen an actual God and survived. At the time he hadn't felt scared, he'd heard the Great Merman in his head. The creature had told him things, things that had seemed shocking but also had at the same time explained a lot of things. Including the dreams that he and Bran had been having.
"One thing I don't understand is why the Manderlys kept up the pretence of worshipping the Seven and being knighted, if they were really following the Deep Ones." Myrcella said sleepily.
Robb had to admit that in the revelatory atmosphere of the morning he hadn't actually had the chance to ask that question. But he could hazard a guess. "I suppose once the lie had started it made sense to continue it, if only for that internal safety and continuity should they ever needed to head back south again."
Myrcella hummed in response, and within a few moments her breathing eased out. Robb closed his eyes and allowed himself to be submersed within his own dreams.
There was a figure standing before him, shrouded in darkness and cold. There was no heat coming from the figure, only cold.
"Who are you?" Robb asked.
The figure didn't answer, instead it took something from the folds of its cloak and handed it to Robb. Robb looked at it and saw that it was a painting. It showed a dragon and a wolf fighting, tearing at one another, blood pooled around them.
Robb blinked and the painting changed. The dragon and the wolf were embracing now, in a Tower where purple coloured the sky, and there they had a little cub. The image shifted again, and now there was a darkness over the scene.
A beast with three heads spitting fire was lurching toward the cold and ice. People stood in fear at the cusp of the painting.
Robb frowned, he looked at the figure and asked. "What does this mean?"
The figure's voice was like cracking ice. "The future."
The man was haggard, his beard was a mess, and his hair, or what was left of it was unkempt. Ser Davos Seaworth, smuggler, and right-hand man of her uncle looked a sight. Myrcella had come to the cell where he was being held with Robb to ask him questions and to see whether he would bend.
"Ser Davos." Myrcella said, taking the lead as had been agreed before they'd set foot here. "You must know why we have come here."
"I do." The man replied. "You want to question me about your uncle's state of mind and everything that went on before he attempted to take the throne."
"Correct." Myrcella said.
"I can tell you that he was disturbed." Ser Davos replied. "Even before your father died, Your Grace, he was disturbed. It was as if there was some great cloud hanging over him. He started meeting with Lord Arryn quite frequently, and they were together before Lord Arryn died."
"Do you know what they were discussing?" Myrcella asked, she noted that the man had used her title.
Ser Davos shook his head. "Only that it was related to your mother, the former Queen Cersei."
Myrcella frowned, that could be because of a number of things, she was beginning to realise her mother had caused all sorts of mess.
"What I do know is that the moment Lord Arryn died, Lord Stannis said he would leave. He would wait for King Robert to head north and then he would leave. He was concerned that whoever had killed Lord Arryn would come for him next." Ser Davos said.
"Did he think it was my mother who had killed Lord Arryn?" Myrcella asked.
Ser Davos surprised her by shaking his head. "Not then. He didn't think that until he'd arrived on Dragonstone and that woman appeared."
"That woman?" Myrcella asked though she had an idea of whom the man was referring to.
"Melisandre, the red witch. She filled his head with all sorts of nonsense, that he was the rightful King, that he was the chosen one. That she would help him achieve all he needed to achieve." Ser Davos said.
"You're saying he didn't believe he was the rightful king until the red witch showed up?" Myrcella asked.
"He didn't start speaking on it until she showed up, and then that's all he spoke about." Ser Davos said. "He changed; he became unstable. He tried to sacrifice your uncle to the fire when he was told by the red witch that King's blood was needed. I couldn't allow that to happen, so I helped your uncle escape. For that I was thrown into a cell."
Myrcella shared a look with Robb, so, it seemed that her uncle had been talked into claiming the throne. Was that true, or just a lie that Ser Davos was telling himself to feel better for what had happened? She waited for the man to continue.
"I was in the cell when it happened, when Lord Stannis committed the greatest crime imaginable." Ser Davos said.
"What crime is that?" Myrcella asked.
"To get the winds to turn, he had his wife and daughter burned alive. I was only told about this after the deed itself." Ser Davos answered.
"He burned his wife and daughter?" Myrcella asked horrified.
"Yes." Ser Davos said.
Myrcella looked at Robb and saw her horror reflected on his face. This was, this was beyond anything either of them would've thought. This was insanity.
"I will bend the knee," Ser Davos said then. "I will bend the knee if I get to return home to my family. I want nothing more to do with the game of thrones."
Myrcella looked at Robb again and her husband nodded.
"You have your request granted." Myrcella said, she was surprised when Ser Davos thanked her with tears in his eyes.