Two days after Tyrion's exploration of the dungeons and their unpleasant contents, the Seafang returned to King's landing, ignoring all attempts by Seaworth's ships to hail them. Tyrion was warned of the arrival, and was waiting on the pier with both marauders at his back. They had proven surprisingly well-behaved, following Tyrion wherever he went without wandering off, starting fights or getting drunk. Bronn still had yet to be seen.

The Wolf descended, yelling a few orders over his shoulder before stopping in front of Tyrion. Tyrion started to speak, but the Wolf was faster.

"Shield-slayer, how are you? I hope these two have been satisfactory as replacement bodyguards in my absence? No dice games while they were to guard you, I trust?"

"None. They behaved... about as well as I could have expected them to."

"Good..."

The Wolf barked an order at the two marauders, who hurried up the gangplank.

"I had a sudden emergency and could not leave word. That Bren character didn't show up, did he?"

"No, no..."

Tyrion felt the conversation escaping him.

"Ser Wolf, I heard some disturbing stories from the city guards."

"Oh?"

"Not here. Near the River Gate."

The Wolf raised an eyebrow but said nothing all the way to the bastion guarding the Blackwater from invasion, a task at which it had spectacularly failed during the assault. Two impassive Unsullied stood guard before the door, though Tyrion knew there was little need of them. The damage to the chain-lifting machine had been so severe the river would be more effectively blocked by a fisherman's rowboat.

Just as he entered, the Wolf sniffed and curled his lip.

"Been a lot of death in there."

"Yes, that is one of the disturbing stories I mentioned."

"And the other? Or others, more likely?"

Tyrion looked around the guardroom. The corpses had been removed from the gears, some in several pieces, but no effort had been made to remove the stains of gore on the walls and mechanisms. The crash of waves far below was the only sound from outside.

Once the Wolf had followed Tyrion into the tower of the bastion, Tyrion closed the door.

"The night before the attack, the Goldcloaks say Euron was in the city."

"Euron!"

The Wolf frowned but said nothing else. Tyrion went on.

"He was seen leaving the river bastion, and on the day of the siege, the gears to raise the chain were found to be jammed open. With the bodies of the guards stationed there."

The Wolf looked around the guardroom, looking at the bloodstains. He nodded.

"But how do they know it was the rust-born? He didn't announce himself to enter then sabotage the gates? He can't have been that stupid, or else I must lower my opinion of all the Iron-Islanders who chose him to lead them."

"He had a very noticeable helmet, all spikes and horns. He had it when he returned from the battle of Dragonstone. They described the same one-"

"-that we saw aboard the Silence."

Once again Tyrion's tongue acted without his mind.

"Something like the ones your men wear."

Tyrion's voice faltered as he realized what he was doing even before he'd finished the sentence. What was wrong with him? Why was he mentioning this to the barbarian himself with no witnesses, no guards, no Daenerys? The Wolf would know he had found "Euron's" helmet aboard the Seafang, and then-

The Wolf was staring at him, a calculating look on his face that turned into distinct anger. Then he took a few steps towards the arrow-slit in the wall and stared into the distance. Finally he spoke, still staring into the sky.

"I did not see the connection until now, but some time before I first arrived at Dragonstone, I left some men ashore to forage while we went out to sea. We never found them on our return, after the Dragonqueen agreed to hire us. I thought perhaps wolves had killed them."

The Wolf turned to look at Tyrion.

"It may well be that his raiders found the foragers, overwhelmed them, and took their arms for themselves. And so a Norscan's helm found itself in the squidspawn's thieving hands."

Tyrion nodded. It was possible. He certainly wanted to believe it was possible. And yet...

"Your men forage in full armor and helmets?"

The Wolf shrugged.

"It's a habit we soon pick up in Norsca. There's many a man whose head would have been caved in by a polar bear or rhinox or ice troll without wearing one."

"And are all their helmets so decorated?"

"More or less. Only so many things you can do with a helmet, not much variety in the shape of heads."

Tyrion stared pointedly at a skull on the Wolf's armor the size of a pumpkin that sported three eyes and a bony crest down the middle. The Wolf saw him looking and followed his gaze.

"Yes, well. The gods do not bless every man equally. But it's possible such a design might have been reused, you could probably find its twin aboard the... Seafang..."

The Wolf trailed off and he looked into empty air. Tyrion's mouth as dry as a desert. He could not have breathed in if he'd tried. The Wolf looked at him, apparently unaware of Tyrion's panic.

"You're saying that was an impostor I dealt with aboard Euron's ship? A mere subordinate, wearing a helm identical to his captain's, and not the true rust-born?"

Tyrion's mind raced to find an answer. The Wolf had not put his hand to his blades, that was a good start. Was the answer so simple as that? Was the Wolf simply an oversized brute, devoid of real cunning, and the presence of Euron's helmet a mere coincidence?

"That is... certainly one interpretation."

"When did the guards first see him?"

"Only on the night before the assault."

The Wolf leaned against the gears, which creaked ominously. His brows were furrowed and he shook his head.

"If that was him with the fleet, and they let him ashore near the southern point of the bay's entrance, then the time to travel back to the city..."

He looked dubious.

"I don't see it happening. He must have been here the whole time. Perhaps he had a copy bashed out when he first returned from the island and given to one of his crew, who would then take on the role of the captain from a distance. It's a trick that works from a distance, I've u- seen it before."

Now Tyrion shook his head. He saw another path.

"It can work the other way round."

"How so?"

"The guards recognized the helmet, but any man can wear one. He had it on him, but not wearing it, when he brought the captives from Dragonstone. And those that heard him speak that night said his voice sounded odd, as though an imitation."

The dwarf and the giant looked at each other. Tyrion thought he saw a fleeting emotion pass over the Wolf's face.

"No, that was likely the true Euron you spoke with that night. His crew are famous for lacking tongues, he wouldn't have entrusted his ship to a man who might sail off without him. The one here was heard speaking, it might have been an Iron Islander or even a mercenary in his pay."

The Wolf brought a hand to his chin and scratched, looking thoughtful, then nodded.

"I believe you're right, Shield-slayer."

One of the broken levers was crusted with gore from the guard who'd been found impaled on it. The Wolf gave it an experimental tug. It refused to budge. He sniffed.

"Must have been half a dozen men in here, all killed by the impostor."

Tyrion nodded, biting back a comment on the Wolf having the same sense of smell as his namesake due to inhuman parentage. For all he knew it might be true.

"So we're looking for a man of unusual strength and resolve, and with a spiked helmet somewhere in his baggage."

The niggling presence of the helmet aboard the Wolf's ship continued to worm away at Tyrion's mind.

"Could your men have found it during the siege?"

The Wolf looked at Tyrion with an interested look.

"Stealing back what was stolen from them? It would be quite a coincidence."

The Wolf looked thoughtful.

"It is possible, of course, I don't ask my men to present their loot for inspection and division. I'll ask them."

Tyrion found himself breathing a little easier. The Wolf turned to leave then looked visibly surprised as he saw Tyrion alongside him.

"You wish to see for yourself?"

"I don't like the idea of a man in Euron's employ sneaking around the city when the man is still at large."

The Wolf nodded, but made no further comment. They returned to the Seafang in silence.

The Wolf's return was greeted with cheerful calls from the marauders, the two men standing in front of the gangplank ostensibly saluting with their weapons. Tyrion suspected they had heard the fate of their predecessors and had no wish to share it.

"Einarr!"

A bald marauder came to the Wolf. After the giant barked what Tyrion took to be instructions, he disappeared into the hold. Other marauders came up one by one at the Wolf's command and held out their helmets, their faces showing obvious confusion. The Wolf gave no explanation, only looking at the proffered helmets and glancing at Tyrion, clearly expecting him to confirm if he recognized it. Not one of them was known to him, however.

The bald marauder returned from the hold, bent over under the weight of a burlap sack. He dropped the bag to the deck, resulting in a clanging noise that put Tyrion in mind of a pack of dogs running with pots tied to their tails.

The first to be pulled out did not seem all that outlandish, though adorned with brightly-colored feathers. The second was covered with scratch marks and much smaller, as though made for someone smaller even than Tyrion or a child. The Wolf sighed.

"það er of lítið!"

Digging through the sack, the marauder pulled out a bewildering variety of helmets, each more showy, and to Tyrion's mind, impractical than the last, festooned as they were with horns, spikes, and even wings. Some were oddly light and beautifully crafted, one seemed to have been fitted for a bull and made of iron ingots smashed together, and some of them had a great many more than two eyeholes. Finally Einarr took one that Tyrion recognized.

"Wait-that's the one."

The Wolf stopped the marauder from pulling out anymore and held it up.

"Hmmm..."

The Wolf asked something of his henchman, who blinked and responded with what seemed to Tyrion like a question. The words "a car olf yarl" meant nothing to Tyrion, but the Wolf looked satisfied.

"That settles it. It belonged to one of the warriors I left on the coast and never saw again. Einarr here took it back but can't remember who from."

The Wolf's hand tightened into a fist. Tyrion thought he heard the giant's knuckles cracking. Then he struck Tyrion in the shoulder, lightly enough that he didn't fall over.

"Had it not been for you, their deaths would have gone unavenged."

Tyrion smiled wanly. So that mystery was resolved, at least. The Wolf might sacrifice his men without a second thought, but obviously resented anyone else killing them. He certainly would have no dealings with Euron now.

"Do you think he recognized you as his victims' leader back then?"

The Wolf looked at the sky.

"I don't think so. He had other things to think about, in any case, particularly concerning his status as king of iron or however he styles himself, after I... suggested he go see if his throne was as stable as he thought with his niece sitting on it."

"In so many words?"

The Wolf smirked.

"A sword at the neck makes an eloquently laconic messenger. But I don't understand why he would turn against the whore-queen?"

Apparently unaware of the thinning of Tyrion's lips, the Wolf continued.

"No, I'm a fool. Why turn against her at that moment? He's a scavenger, wouldn't he have waited for both armies to exhaust each other first?"

"If it wasn't Euron but his agent, maybe he thought he stood a better chance of surviving by cutting the siege short."

"Would it really have helped that much?"

Tyrion shrugged.

"We would have taken a great many more casualties, and the pillaging been more severe, if Davos hadn't taken the harbor as early as he did thanks to the River Gate being left exposed. Or... Or perhaps he saw Cersei had no chance left of winning, and wanted to switch over to the winning side by ensuring its victory."

The Wolf looked at Tyrion for a moment, then nodded.

"That seems in line with what I've heard of him. But why hasn't he shown up yet to claim the rewards of his treachery?"

"He can hardly expect Daenerys to forgive him the death of her dragon in exchange for his gifting her the city like that."

"Probably not, no. But if it was done not for the Dragonqueen, maybe it was done against the city, to ensure they ould not serve anyone but he? I know Bjarni Armcleaver's son once murdered the dog he'd had for years rather than let other children play with it."

Tyrion brought his fist to his palm.

"Yes, of course! He wanted to marry Cersei, this was his revenge for her refusal!"

There was an amused snorting from the Wolf.

"And here I was thinking he was smarter than he looked. Wonder which of them would have removed the other first?"

Tyrion shook his head. The question of the helmet had been answered to his satisfaction, and there was nothing left for him to do on the ship when there was so much left to do in the city. He left the Seafang with his heart lighter than when he'd boarded it.

Euron roaming free was a problem, but at least he didn't have to worry about a traitor in their midst.