The Hand of the King was dressed far more splendidly in death than Margaery had ever seen him in life. His body had been clad in a fine velvet tunic displaying the colours and arms of his house, and the shroud laid over his coffin had been woven with the symbol of the Hand of the King at Loren's insistence. He had little of a Household here in King's Landing, but his brother would be leading them back to Fair Isle, together with a hundred Lannister lancers. Not to be outdone, her father had also supplied a hundred of his own men to support the journey and despite the need for those men, Margaery could not find it in herself to object to this retinue for Lord Sebaston.
The court had not come to see him off. By order of the queen-regent, herself absent, the King and princess Myrcella were not to come. They remained under guard within the keep. Margaery had been advised to stay, but had come with five guards who never left her side. She had taken to following the example of the rest of the royal family, one guard remained in her rooms as she slept, the only time she was without armed escort was when she was naked, and she had sent men into the city and to ask around households, looking for those unusual women, skilled in arms to defend her in those intimate moments. Her mind went back to Brienne, the heir of Tarth, who strove to be a knight. But she had fallen at the Battle of Bayonne, ending the line of House Tarth in glorious defeat. Just another house among many that saw their lines ended in these years of war. Houses Darry and Whent in the riverlands, House Lefford, and now House Farman from the westerlands were extinct in the male line and of course, House Baratheon, though none would ever say it openly. From the Reach, the Houses supporting Shireen Baratheon would likely be stripped of their lands and titles. Only one lordly House was gone, House Caswell, Lord Lorent dead and his daughters taken by the Baratheon armies, an many knightly houses that could trace a line back to the Andal landings were gone.
Androw Hill approached his brother's casket and placed a hand on it. His face was gaunt, his expression hard. "Forgive me brother," she heard him whisper. Margaery had heard that the last words that Sebaston and his brother had spoken were in argument, and Androw despaired at it. Margaery had offered him sympathies, and a place in the Tyrell household, but he had dismissed her suggestion. "My sister will want to see our brother, I will take him home to her, and then I will serve in her household." She had said nothing more.
She watched him mount his courser and, to the sad tune of a bard, the escort of Sebaston Farman left the Red Keep, carrying their lord home.
When they were gone, Margaery approached Loren Lannister. "My lord. May I speak with you?"
He nodded curtly. "Do you know when the next council meeting is? My father tells me that none are planned."
"Your father is right," Loren replied. "Cersei has not yet called another council meeting, nor told us when she will."
"But the realm-"
"Waits on our queen-regent while good men die." She was about to ask more, but he stopped her. "Let's not speak of my sister, Margaery, today is dark enough already."
She nodded and asked a different question. "Where are your guards, my lord?"
"With my family."
"What of your own safetly?" There was no one in the Red Keep now who had money or power who did not have guards with them nearly everywhere they went. Those that remained. In the days after Sebaston's death, lordling after lordling had begged leave to depart the city, and, when Cersei refused to act, Loren, Kevan and Mace did so, sending them all to the front line before they could force their way out and return to their castles.
"My family's safety is paramount, and if this assassin wishes to test their blade on me, I am prepared, in fact I welcome it." His expression turned darker than Androw Hill's had been. "Sebaston may have been my superior as Hand of the King, but he was also my bannerman. I am supposed to protect him as he serves me. If the assassin comes for me I will pay him back for Sebaston."
"And my husband."
"Of course."
"My lord," Loren's squire Tyland hurried over. "There is someone here to see you."
"Who?"
Tybalt pointed out the man, he was in the grey woolen robes of a septon, but his hands were not rough with work or prayer. Like as not one of the Most Devout, sent by the High Septon to sway them. But what did he want with Loren?
"Send him away." Loren told his squire brusquely.
"I tried my lord, but he insisted, he said to give you this." Tyland held out his hand and dropped a gold ring into Loren's palm. Loren examined it and frowned.
"This is Sebaston's ring."
"Why would a septon of the most devout have a ring of Lord Sebaston's?"
"I hope for his sake he remembers that thieves lose their hands." Loren nodded and Tyland returned with the septon in tow.
The man was wringing his hands and glancing around as if to see whether or not anyone was watching them. Almost certainly, given this was the Red Keep.
"My lord," the septon bowed first to Lord Loren and then to Margaery. "My queen. Thank you for seeing me."
"We are very busy, septon. What is you wish to discuss with us, why do you have the Lord Hand's ring?"
He… he gave it to me, my lord." The septon took a breath and stood tall. "My lord, my queen, my name is Timeon, an ordained septon of the Most Devout. I have been… had been in discussion with the Hand of the King, along with many of my brethren…" He was still looking around.
"What about? Loren asked.
Timeon licked his dry lips and Margaery stepped forward. "Perhaps we could have this conversation somewhere more private, my lord. Would that be preferable, septon Timeon?"
Timeon nodded eagerly. "Yes, my queen, very much so."
Loren nodded, though he looked like he wanted to have this all over with quickly, he turned and led them back into the Red Keep and into one of the gardens, where they stood alone under a large pine tree.
"So," Loren turned to the four of the Most Devout. "What were you discussing with the Hand of the King."
Still, septon Timeon looked nervous. "You are certain we will not be overheard."
"Yes, this place is safe," Margaery said with a smile, hoping to placate them. "Lord Loren and I often come here to discuss affairs of the realm away from prying eyes." With a gesture, she sent her guards out of earshot. If Timeon was the killer, she would have to rely on Loren to defend her.
It seemed to work, for Septon Timeon nodded and spoke. "We, in fact much of the Most Devout have been speaking with the Hand of the King with regards to his Holiness, in particular with regards to his election."
"What about it?" Margaery asked. Was this a moment for them?
Timeon nodded. "As you are aware, vows and oaths taken at swordpoint are not held to be valid in the eyes of the gods. The votes for the High Septon were determined by the axes in the hands of the sparrows, not the free choice of the Most Devout."
"You plan to overturn the election?"
"We do."
"How?" Loren asked. "Those axes have not left the city. Try to overturn it and you risk violence, we cannot have a massacre of the holy men of the city."
"We do not intend to do it here. We will go on a holy pilgrimage to the Starry Sept in Oldtown, the original seat of the Faith. It is from there that we will elect our true High Septon and denounce this… pretender of no stock."
"You would start a civil war. You know we already fight one."
"The Hand of the King assured our passage. We would return to King's Landing in a grand holy procession, and when we return, the Hand gave his word that the armies of the crown would join with us and crush the upstart. In return, our High Septon would of course officiate your marriage to King Tommen, and assure the faith against the King's treacherous cousin."
"You have proof of this?"
Timeon pulled out several letters and handed them over. They scanned them over and Loren confirmed they were written in Sebaston's hand. "There's no seal." Margaery noted.
"Lord Sebaston delivered the letters himself, he wanted no seal in case the letters were found by the pretender. Without his seal he could claim a forgery if they were to come to light."
Margaery didn't have to imagine the consequences if the High Septon learned that the Hand of the King was planning to unseat him.
"But my lord, my queen, we need to know-"
"-if we will back this plan." Loren shook his head. "Neither of us are the Hand of the King. We do not have the power to authorise such a plan."
She held back a groan. "But surely, you and I can give our authorisation, I can get my father to agree, and surely the queen-regent will give her consent to any plan that might rid us of this pretender."
Loren told her without saying that he had no desire to involve Cersei in this. "You can assure me of the backing of your father?"
"I can."
He mulled it over for longer than Margaery liked, did he not know that indecision would hardly help sway Timeon or his supporters to act when they were offering a path to dealing with the problem of the Faith. "Very well, will the backing of Lord Tyrell and Lannister be sufficient?"
Timeon nodded. "I believe so. With your blessing I will return to the Great Sept and inform my followers. We will depart from King's Landing on our pilgrimage in a matter of days."
When he was gone, Margaery turned to Loren. "This is good news, yes?"
Loren nodded. "It does seem that a solution has offered itself without our effort." He looked strangely pained. "Why did Sebaston not confide in me?"
"All Hands must hold some cards close," Margaery assured him. "I do not believe lord Farman was trying to undermine you. If so, he would have accepted one of our offers of marriage." Her father had proposed all the nubile cousins she had in King's Landing, fine wifely material all, and Sebaston had rejected each of them out of a desire to be politically neutral. "I'm sure he would have told you after Timeon came to confirm he had the supporters today."
"If he were alive." He shook his head. "Regardless, it is a good plan, the best we could hope for."
"Perhaps."
Loren frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Well, the faith are forbidden from taking up arms, and both sides know that to do so would force us to take up arms against them in turn. We can use that, send out feelers to either side and force both the Most Devout and the High Septon himself to make concessions to us, then, when the time comes, we choose whomever provides the best chance of security to our regime."
"I would sooner side with the Most Devout." Loren's folded arms gripped tightly. "That man has insinuated that he might believe Stannis Baratheon's lies. I hear enough of that as it is, I do not need it from the Great Sept as well." He sighed. "But I suppose if we were to side with them so openly from the beginning, he might well declare it truth, and that can't be undone. You think trying to play them off against each other would be best?"
Margaery nodded. "Recollect, my lord, how precarious our position is. We must strengthen it as much as possible."
Loren nodded slowly. "If we are to walk this path, we must do so carefully. Push too hard and we may find ourselves with no friends in the Great Sept, whomever wins this particular dispute."
Margaery agreed, but then again, walking carefully was something the Tyrells had done for centuries.
Vandal55: He has the means to pay it off if he chose, but he still faces the same problem of getting the gold from Casterly Rock to the Iron Bank.