A Game of Thrones Chapter Twelve

EddardThe summons came in the hour before the dawn, when the world was relieve and grey.Alyn shook him roughly from his dreams and Ned stumbled into the predawn chill, foggy from nap, to work forcetion his horse saddled and the fairy already mounted. Robert wore thick brownedish gloves and a heavy fur cloak with a hood that cover his ears, and looked for exclusively the world like a bear sitting a horse. Up, devoid he roargond. Up, up We lay down matters of state to discuss.By wholly means, Ned express. Come inside, Your blessing. Alyn lifted the flap of the tent.No, no, no, Robert say. His breath steamed with ever soy word. The encampment is full of ears. Besides, I want to ride come surface and taste this sylvan of yours. Ser Boros and Ser Meryn waited croupe him with a dozen guardsmen, Ned saw. T here was nonhing to do provided rub the sleep from his eyes, dress, and mount up.Robert set the pace, driving his huge dismal destrier rocky as Ned galloped a eag le-eyed beside him, trying to keep up. He called out a question as they rode, but the wind blew his address a demeanor, and the world power did non chance upon him. After that Ned rode in silence. They shortly left the indexsroad and took transfer across rolling plains dark with mist. By wherefore the guard had go covering a small distance, safely out of earshot, but still Robert would not s beginning.Dawn broke as they crested a low ridge, and finally the big businessman pulled up. By then they were miles south of the main party. Robert was discolor and exhilarated as Ned reined up beside him. Gods, he swore, laughing, it encounters good to find out out and ride the way a part was meant to ride I swear, Ned, this front crawl along is enough to drive a man mad. He had neer been a patient man, Robert Baratheon. That damnable wheelhouse, the way it creaks and groans, climbing every bulge in the road as if it were a mountain . . . I secure you, if that wretched thin g breaks another axle, Im going to burn it, and Cersei tush notchNed laughed. I entrust gladly light the torch for you.Good man The fairy clapped him on the shoulder. Ive half a mind to leave them all behind and just keep going.A smile touched Neds lips. I do believe you mean it.I do, I do, the king said. What do you presuppose, Ned? Just you and me, two vagabond knights on the kingsroad, our s oral communication at our sides and the gods go to bed what in front of us, and maybe a farmers daughter or a tavern wench to warm our beds tonight.Would that we could, Ned said, but we have duties now, my liege . . . to the realm, to our children, I to my dame wife and you to your queen. We are not the boys we were.You were never the boy you were, Robert grumbled. Mores the pity. And yet at that place was that one time . . . what was her name, that common missy of yours? Becca? No, she was one of mine, gods love her, nigrify hair and these sweet big eyes, you could drown in them . Yours was . . . Aleena? No. You told me once. Was it Merryl? You go through the one I mean, your bastards mother?Her name was Wylla, Ned replied with cool courtesy, and I would sooner not speak of her.Wylla. Yes. The king grinned. She must have been a ancient wench if she could make churchman Eddard Stark forget his laurels, even for an hour. You never told me what she looked like . . . Neds babble tightened in choler. Nor get out I. Leave it be, Robert, for the love you narrate you bear me. I disgrace myself and I dishonored Catelyn, in the sketch of gods and men.Gods have mercy, you scarcely knew Catelyn.I had taken her to wife. She was carrying my child.You are too hard on yourself, Ned. You forever were. Damn it, no woman wants Baelor the Blessed in her bed. He slapped a hand on his knee. Well, Ill not press you if you feel so strong just about it, though I swear, at quantify youre so prickly you ought to take the hedgehog as your sigil.The rising sunniness sent feels of light through the pale white mists of dawn. A broad plain spread out beneath them, bare and brown, its flatness here and there relieved by long, low hum flings. Ned pointed them out to his king. The barrows of the First Men.Robert frowned. accommodate we ridden onto a graveyard?There are barrows everywhere in the north, Your Grace, Ned told him. This dry land is old.And cold, Robert grumbled, pulling his cloak more tightly around himself. The guard had reined up well behind them, at the bottom of the ridge. Well, I did not found you out here to talk of graves or bicker about your bastard. There was a rider in the night, from Lord Varys in Kings landing. Here. The king pulled a paper from his belt and turn over it to Ned.Varys the eunuch was the kings master of whisperers. He served Robert now as he had once served Aerys Targaryen. Ned unrolled the paper with trepidation, thinking of Lysa and her august accusition, but the message did not concern Lady Arryn. What is the source for this teaching?Do you remember Ser Jorah Mormont?Would that I might forget him, Ned said bluntly. The Mormonts of acquit Island were an old house, proud and honorable, but their lands were cold and distant and poor. Ser Jorah had tried to young man the family c slayers by selling some poachers to a Tyroshi slabber. As the Mormonts were bannermen to the Starks, his crime had dishonored the north. Ned had made the long journey west to BearIsland, only to find when he arrived that Jorah had taken ship beyond the reach of Ice and the kings justice. Five old age had passed since then.Ser Jorah is now in Pentos, anxious to earn a royal absolve that would allow him to return from exile, Robert explained. Lord Varys makes good use of him.So the slaver has become a spy, Ned said with distaste. He handed the letter stand. I would rather he become a corpse.Varys tells me that spies are more useful than corpses, Robert said. Jorah aside, what do you make of his report?Daen erys Targaryen has wed some Dothraki horselord. What of it? Shall we send her a wedding gift?The king frowned. A knife, perhaps. A good conniving one, and a bold man to wield it.Ned did not feign confusion Roberts hatred of the Targaryens was a madness in him. He remembered the angry terminology they had exchanged when Tywin Lannister had presented Robert with the corpses of Rhaegars wife and children as a token of fealty. Ned had named that finish Robert called it war. When he had protested that the young prince and princess were no more than babes, his new-made king had replied, I cipher no babes. Only potassium bitartratespawn. Not even Jon Arryn had been able to calm that storm. Eddard Stark had ridden out that very day in a cold rage, to strife the terminal skirmishs of the war alone in the south. It had taken another end to reconcile them Lyannas death, and the grief they had shared over her passing.This time, Ned resolved to keep his temper. Your Grace, the girl is scarcely more than a child. You are no Tywin Lannister, to s jest innocents. It was said that Rhaegars little girl had cried as they dragged her from beneath her bed to face the blades. The boy had been no more than a babe in arms, yet Lord Tywins soldiers had torn him from his mothers breast and dashed his head against a wall.And how long will this one remain an innocent? Roberts mouth grew hard. This child will soon enough spread her legs and start breeding more dragonspawn to plague me.Nonetheless, Ned said, the murder of children . . . it would be vile . . . unspeakable . . . Unspeakable? the king roared. What Aerys did to your pal Brandon was unspeakable. The way your lord father died, that was unspeakable. And Rhaegar . . . how more times do you think he raped your sister? How many hundreds of times? His voice had grown so loud that his horse whinnied nervously beneath him. The king jerked the reins hard, quieting the animal, and pointed an angry finger at Ned. I will exec ute every Targaryen I shag get my hands on, until they are as dead as their dragons, and then I will piss on their graves.Ned knew better than to defy him when the pettishness was on him. If the years had not quenched Roberts thirst for revenge, no words of his would help. You cant get your hands on this one, can you? he said quietly.The kings mouth twisted in a bitter grimace. No, gods be cursed. Some pox-ridden Pentoshi cheesemonger had her brother and her walled up on his estate with pointy-hatted eunuchs all around them, and now hes handed them over to the Dothraki. I should have had them twain killed years ago, when it was easy to get at them, but Jon was as bad as you. More sprout I, I listened to him. Jon Arryn was a wise man and a good Hand.Robert snorted. The anger was leaving him as suddenly as it had come. This Khal Drogo is said to have a hundred thousand men in his horde. What would Jon say to that?He would say that even a million Dothraki are no threat to the realm , so long as they remain on the other side of the squeeze sea, Ned replied calmly. The barbarians have no ships. They hate and fear the open sea.The king shifted uncomfortably in his saddle. Perhaps. There are ships to be had in the Free Cities, though. I tell you, Ned, I do not like this marriage. There are still those in the Seven Kingdoms who call me Usurper. Do you forget how many houses fought for Targaryen in the war? They bide their time for now, but give them half a chance, they will murder me in my bed, and my sons with me. If the beggar king crosses with a Dothraki horde at his back, the traitors will join him.He will not cross, Ned promised. And if by some mischance he does, we will throw him back into the sea. Once you choose a new Warden of the atomic number 99The king groaned. For the last time, I will not name the Arryn boy Warden. I know the boy is your nephew, but with Targaryens climbing in bed with Dothraki, I would be mad to rest one quarter of the realm on the shoulders of a sickly child.Ned was ready for that. Yet we still must have a Warden of the East. If Robert Arryn will not do, name one of your brothers. Stannis proved himself at the beleaguering of Storms End, surely.He let the name hang there for a moment. The king frowned and said nothing. He looked uncomfortable.That is, Ned finished quietly, watching, unless you have already promised the honor to another.For a moment Robert had the grace to look shock. Just as quickly, the look became annoyance. What if I have?Its Jaime Lannister, is it not?Robert kicked his horse back into motion and started down the ridge toward the barrows. Ned kept pace with him. The king rode on, eyes straight ahead. Yes, he said at last. A single hard word to end the matter.Kingslayer, Ned said. The rumors were true, then. He rode on dangerous ground now, he knew. An able and courageous man, no doubt, he said carefully, but his father is Warden of the West, Robert. In time Ser Jaime will succeed to tha t honor. No one man should hold both East and West. He left unsaid his real concern that the appointment would drop half the armies of the realm into the hands of Lannisters.I will fight that battle when the enemy appears on the field, the king said stubbornly. At the moment, Lord Tywin looms everlasting as Casterly Rock, so I doubt that Jaime will be win anytime soon. Dont vex me about this, Ned, the stone has been set.Your Grace, may I speak aboveboard?I seem unable to stop you, Robert grumbled. They rode through tall brown grasses.Can you trust Jaime Lannister?He is my wifes twin, a Sworn Brother of the Kingsguard, his emotional state and fortune and honor all bound to mine.As they were bound to Aerys Targaryens, Ned pointed out. wherefore should I mistrust him? He has done everything I have ever beged of him. His sword helped win the throne I sit on.His sword helped subvert the throne you sit on, Ned thought, but he did not permit the words to pass his lips. He swore a vow to protect his kings life with his own. past he opened that kings throat with a sword.Seven hells, someone had to kill Aerys Robert said, reining his mount to a sudden halt beside an ancient barrow. If Jaime hadnt done it, it would have been left for you or me.We were not Sworn Brothers of the Kingsguard, Ned said. The time had come for Robert to hear the whole truth, he decided then and there. Do you remember the Trident, Your Grace?I won my crown there. How should I forget it?You took a affront from Rhaegar, Ned reminded him. So when the Targaryen host broke and ran, you gave the pursuit into my hands. The remnants of Rhaegars army fled back to Kings Landing. We followed. Aerys was in the Red Keep with several thousand loyalists. I expected to find the gates closed to us.Robert gave an impatient shake of his head. Instead you found that our men had already taken the city. What of it?Not our men, Ned said patiently. Lannister men. The lion of Lannister flew over the ramparts, no t the crowned stag. And they had taken the city by treachery.The war had raged for close to a year. Lords great and small had flocked to Roberts banners others had remained loyal to Targaryen. The mighty Lannisters of Casterly Rock, the Wardens of the West, had remained aloof from the struggle, ignoring calls to arms from both rebels and royalists. Aerys Targaryen must have thought that his gods had answered his prayers when Lord Tywin Lannister appeared before the gates of Kings Landing with an army twelve thousand strong, professing loyalty. So the mad king had ordered his last mad act. He had opened his city to the lions at the gate.Treachery was a coin the Targaryens knew well, Robert said. The anger was building in him again. Lannister paying them back in kind. It was no less than they deserved. I shall not disoblige my sleep over it.You were not there, Ned said, bitterness in his voice. Troubled sleep was no stranger to him. He had lived his lies for fourteen years, yet they still pursue him at night. There was no honor in that conquest.The Others take your honor Robert swore. What did any Targaryen ever know of honor? Go down into your crypt and ask Lyanna about the dragons honorYou avenged Lyanna at the Trident, Ned said, halting beside the king. Promise me, Ned, she had whispered.That did not bring her back. Robert looked away, off into the grey distance. The gods be damned. It was a hollow mastery they gave me. A crown . . . it was the girl I prayed them for. Your sister, safe . . . and mine again, as she was meant to be. I ask you, Ned, what good is it to wear a crown? The gods mock the prayers of kings and cowherds alike.I cannot answer for the gods, Your Grace . . . only for what I found when I rode into the throne path that day, Ned said. Aerys was dead on the floor, drowned in his own blood. His dragon skulls stared down from the walls. Lannisters men were everywhere. Jaime wore the white cloak of the Kingsguard over his golden armor. I can see him still. Even his sword was gilded. He was seated on the Iron Throne, high above his knights, wearing a helm fashioned in the shape of a lions head. How he glitteredThis is well known, the king complained.I was still mounted. I rode the length of the hall in silence, between the long rows of dragon skulls. It felt as though they were watching me, somehow. I halt in front of the throne, looking up at him. His golden sword was across his legs, its edge red with a kings blood. My men were filling the room behind me. Lannisters men drew back. I never said a word. I looked at him seated there on the throne, and I waited. At last Jaime laughed and got up. He took off his helm, and he said to me, Have no fear, Stark. I was only keeping it warm for our friend Robert. Its not a very comfortable seat, Im afraid. The king threw back his head and roared. His laughter startled a flight of crows from the tall brown grass. They took to the air in a wild beating of wings. You think I should mistrust Lannister because he sat on my throne for a few moments? He shook with laughter again. Jaime was all of seventeen, Ned. Scarce more than a boy.Boy or man, he had no right to that throne.Perhaps he was tired, Robert suggested. Killing kings is weary work. Gods know, theres no place else to rest your ass in that damnable room. And he verbalize truly, it is a monstrous uncomfortable chair. In more ways than one. The king shook his head. Well, now I know Jaimes dark sin, and the matter can be forgotten. I am heartily sick of secrets and squabbles and matters of state, Ned. Its all as tedious as counting coppers. Come, lets ride, you used to know how. I want to feel the wind in my hair again. He kicked his horse back into motion and galloped up over the barrow, raining earth down behind him.For a moment Ned did not follow. He had run out of words, and he was filled with a vast sense of helplessness. Not for the first time, he wondered what he was doing here and why he had come . He was no Jon Arryn, to discipline the wildness of his king and teach him wisdom. Robert would do what he pleased, as he always had, and nothing Ned could say or do would change that. He belonged in Winterfell. He belonged with Catelyn in her grief, and with Bran.A man could not always be where he belonged, though. Resigned, Eddard Stark put his boots into his horse and set off after the king.