Prince Maekar Targaryen
Gods he hated King's Landing, the whole city truly was just a nest of vipers, he had come to appreciate the simplicities of life whilst at Summerhall. Summerhall truly was the only place in these blasted kingdoms that Maekar Targaryen the hand of the king could get any peace and quiet, otherwise he constantly had to worry about politics and who was plotting what. He had last been to Summerhall some two moons ago for a short trip admittedly, but he still found it fulfilling and relaxing. He had managed to spend some time with his wife and children, his wife Naerys held the fort down admirably without him there, and she seemed to be going much better than she had when he had last seen her before. Daeron of course though was still a large disappointment for Maekar; his eldest son had always been plagued by dreams and visions like many in their family, but had never truly allowed the visions to affect him. Now though, something had set him off and he would always be in his cups or in a brothel, it was deeply embarrassing and worrying for Maekar.
He had tried everything he could think of to get Daeron away from the brink that he was so often standing on, and yet nothing was working. He had tried cutting his son off from the family, in the hopes that such a thing would shock him back into real life and away from the drink he loved so much, that had not worked and his son had been found passed out in a gutter somewhere near Storm's End with no recollection of how he had gotten there. Next Maekar had sat his son down and spoken with him, harsh words were spoken by both parties and yet still his son drank and drank, and Maekar could see no way out to avoid his son's more than apparent death. That was why he had begun speaking to Lord Baratheon about perhaps wedding his son to the man's daughter, perhaps having someone else to care for other than himself would sober his son up. It was a forlorn hope but it was the only hope he had.
Thinking about Daeron made him in turn think of Aerion. His second eldest son who was now serving the enemy, was wed to one of the Blackfyres and had two children with the woman. The news still shocked and hurt him all these years later that had been one of the reasons why Aerys had prevented him from fighting at the Bleeding Water, fear of what he would do if he knew the truth about his son. Aerion, his boy had been an angry child growing up with more than just a hint of madness in him, but he would have made a good Prince of Summerhall had Maekar perhaps been more patient and willing to listen. Instead he had sent his son to Lys in exile, hoping that being without his lickspittles and other toadies would teach him some humility, instead his son had been driven into the arms of the Blackfyres and Bittersteel. He dreaded the day he would have to face his son in battle.
Aemon was a maester, sworn to serve some lordling in the Riverlands, and still refusing to accept a place at court. His third son was a proud man that much Maekar knew, he was smart as well, something that Maekar felt was lacking in the current grand maester, the man was a weakling and fool. Still his son stubbornly held onto his belief that he was not meant to be at King's Landing, his fear that he would usurp the rightful place of the Grand Maester. A belief that echoed so strongly of Maekar's own father that sometimes it stung hard whenever he thought about it.
Aegon was truly the only son left to him who he could mould into a worthy heir. His son's time with Ser Duncan the Tall had done him wonders, he did not have the false airs that many of their station often had, he was loved by the smallfolk and was a very good swordsman and warrior in general. In fact to Maekar it seemed as if his son was Baelor Breakspear reborn, something that he was both proud and worried about, for he remembered how Baelor had met his end, and he was beginning to believe that perhaps Aegon might meet a similar end should Aerion ever fight. Of course that was all in the future, for now though Maekar knew he should be content with the fact that his son and his daughter were happily wed to each other and their first born son, a boy whom they had named Duncan in honour of Aegon's old mentor, was healthy. That was good as was the news that Rhae was with child once more, the succession should soon be secured.
The only proper headache that Maekar had left with regards to his children was whom to wed Daella to. Daella was a kind and sweet girl, who was looking more and more like her mother each day, one would have thought that there would be berth of offers for her hand, and there was not. Maekar knew not the reason for such a thing, but he still felt angry, the fools did not how blessed they would be to have Daella as a good daughter or a wife. They instead chose to focus on the fact that she had been born with a slight limp and a slightly deformed right hand, but that did not take away from who she was and how kind she truly could be. Gods that was going to be a headache, especially once Aerys died, which was looking more and more likely.
King Aerys was getting more and more ill with every passing day; a wasting sickness the maesters said was the cause of the illness. His brother had always been thin but now he was scarily so, so thin that his bones were more prominent in his clothes and more visible as well. Aerys spent much of his time in a milk of the poppy induced stupor, where he still muttered about dreams and prophecies; whilst he was awake it was much of the same. His brother was wasting away right before his eyes and Maekar had never felt so powerless, there was no foe for him to fight and kill to ensure his brother would live. For he knew what would happen once Aerys died, what rumours would spread about him, and he did not look forward to them, this cup was poisoned only a fool would want it to willingly pass to him.
Alas that was not what many on the council thought, this Maekar knew, he was not foolish to think otherwise. It was not secret that he had desired the handship once it had become clear Aerys would become King, it was not out of a desire for power no he simply did not want Bloodraven anywhere near his brother, not after what he had heard his father whisper on his deathbed about bastards. But when Aerys had done the fool thing to do and had named Bloodraven hand, Maekar had retired back to Summerhall, declaring that he would not serve on a council with that sorcerer no matter his intentions. That declaration had come to haunt him as he was now Hand of the King, and there were rumours abound that he was poisoning the king. Still as he looked at the council assembled before him he wondered who he could trust. "My lords I thank you for coming. The king is still gravely ill, but I know that had he not been he would have wished to attend." A lie and they all knew it, Aerys had not attended a council session for years before he had fallen ill. "Now what are the most pressing matters that we must discuss?"
Michael Stone the master of whispers, Bloodraven's prodigy and a slime ball if ever there was one spoke in that clear tone of his. "My prince, I have reports on the goings on the Riverlands if you would care to hear them." Maekar nodded and the man went on. "Lords Darry, Shawney and Goodbrook have been meeting over the past two moons now discussing things that would be best left unsaid in our present company."
Maekar snorted. "What concern is that of the throne's if Lords Darry and company decide to discuss things with a certain perversion. No I asked for real news Stone not gossip."
Stone smiled slyly then. "Very well My Prince. To discuss things with a perversion is not the only reason why these three lords are meeting. They meet to discuss things regarding support of the Black Dragon, as you might remember they bent the knee to Aemon Blackfyre in the last war, and are discussing whether or not doing such a thing would be wise once more."
Maekar straightens and stiffens at that and says sharply. "And you have waited for two moons before telling the council this lord of Stone? A more suspicious man might call you out for being a liar or doubt your loyalty, but I would hear your reasons for delaying telling the council such important information."
No matter how childish it might seem, Maekar is pleased by the flush that creeps up on Stone, good let the man be humbled. "My apologies my prince, but I did not think it appropriate to bring the matter before the council or the king, until I had definitive proof that the houses would actually rise in rebellion should it be asked of them. As I now do have such proof I feel that now is the right time to bring the news to you and for the throne to act."
Aegon speaks then, his tone just as sharp as Maekar's had been. "You say you have proof Lord Stone for your claims, if so where is it? House Darry has always been a staunch loyalist to House Targaryen and only fought for the Black Dragon in the last war because they had no choice."
Lord Stone smiles slyly once more, and unfurls a piece of paper from his sleeve before throwing it onto the table. "Here my prince. A letter showing correspondence between Lords Shawney and Lord Goodbrook. It makes reference to their meetings in code, but my sources were able to make sense of it. They discuss the possibility of uniting with House Frey and marching on Riverrun, and laying siege to it as well. They believe that if they do this, then House Bracken will join them, and then Bittersteel will invade once he sees the chaos."
Maekar picks the letter up from the table and reads it quickly. "Yes that is all here, and is all very well and good, but you mentioned Lord Darry as being part of the plot, I see no mention of him in this letter. These two men will not act without his support, and as he is not mentioned in this letter, I assume he has withdrawn his support from the venture. We have men watching Walder Frey day and night, should he make a move to support the Blackfyres the Twins shall be put to sword. No I want more proof before we make a move, is that understood." Lord Stone nods though he looks none too happy about it.
There is a moment's silence, and then Grand Maester Cerrold, the man the citadel sent to replace Grand Maester Justin speaks in that querulous voice of his. "My prince, my lords. I received a raven from Oldtown this morning, from Archmaester Garon. He writes that there have been sightings of Ironborn ships near the coast of Oldtown as well as near the Arbor. He fears that an Ironborn invasion of Oldtown might be on the cards, after all Daeron Stark never has seemed to have much respect for learning."
Maekar speaks then his tone sharp and to the point. He has never liked Maester Cerrold; the man is a simpering fool. "Does Maester Garon have any proof of these accusations? Daeron Stark has allowed his Ironborn off their leash from time to time to go raiding in Essos never the rest of Westeros, for he knows that to do so would spark war, and Stark is not such a great fool as that."
Maester Cerrold speaks once more his voice quivering. "My prince whilst that might be true, we know from the reports that Lord Stone has provided us that Daeron Stark seems to be having greater trouble controlling his nephew Lord Rodrick Greyjoy than he did his father Lord Dagon. The man gives no credit to the hard work put into maintaining the peace, and as such may be acting of his own free will."
Stone speaks in agreement. "It is perfectly possible my prince. Rodrick Greyjoy is someone who constantly feels as if he has a bone to pick with the world. He might not be happy with raiding in the east anymore, and might simply want to go raiding in Oldtown."
Maekar grimaces and says. "That may well be true, I want a raven sent to Lord Hightower, tell him to be on alert for any suspicious activities. I also want Lord Redwyne made aware of what might occur, the fool boasts of his fleet; let him show us what it has got."
"Do you wish for Lord Redwyne to engage Rodrick Greyjoy my prince?" Lord Stone asks.
Wouldn't you love it if I did Stone. Maekar thinks bitterly. Aloud he merely says. "No, I simply want him to be prepared in case he does need to be called to war."
Stone nods and then there is a knock on the door and Maekar calls for whoever it is to enter, Ser Morris Tarbeck of the Kingsguard walks in an apologetic look on his face, he hands Maekar a note. Once he is done reading the note, Maekar feels anger welling up inside of him, how has this happened? Robb Reyne has escaped.
Robb Reyne
Gods he was too old for this. Ships had never truly been good to him even when he was younger. He had once boarded a boat from the Tumblestone as lad to take him to his mother's home from home at Riverrun, and he had been sick the whole journey. Something that had been repeated when he had travelled by ship across the narrow sea once as a young man before the war had broken out. Then too he had been sick as a dog, perhaps lions, true lions were not meant to sail on ships, he had always felt more comfortable with a sword in his hand.
He touched the pommel of his sword for reassurance; it had been too long since he had swung a sword. The last time had been during the second Blackfyre war some five years ago now. He had been nigh unstoppable during that campaign, bringing down men twenty years younger than himself, treating them as if they were nothing but flies. That was when he had always felt most alive, when he was on the battlefield with a sword in his hand, and the only thing standing in his way of glory was a man. It was easy to understand battle and war, all you needed to do was make sure you survived the fights and lived to plan the next one. Those who over thought such things were the ones who were dead now, buried in the ground like the worms they were.
His brother Aemon had been one such worm. A red worm but a worm all the same, he had been a good soldier and a good lord, but he over thought thinks far too much had Robb's older brother. Where Robb would weigh the options and choices presented to him for no longer than half an hour, Aemon would spend days or weeks at a time considering them. It was why they had been beaten during the first Blackfyre war after Fireball had fallen; it was why they had never won anything of repute against the Lannisters.
And yet his brother had always joked that it would be Robb who would die first. Would die because he was too impulsive to really analyse each decision and make the appropriate call, that he was too reliant on his gut. Perhaps he had been correct, Robb had spent the last five years in the black cells with squat all food or water, all because he had refused to be holed up inside of his castle whilst the Ironborn fought and won glory for themselves. He had been beaten and captured at Lion's Ridge, and spent the next five years in darkness. Perhaps Aemon had been right, his brother had always been smart, but he never knew when to use those brains of his, for if he had he would still have been alive right now, and Robb's children would not be holding Castamere.
That simple fact was enough to make Robb chuckle whether from grief, irony or madness he knew not. All he knew was that if his father had lived to see him and his inherit he would have pitched a fit. Robb liked to think he had been a good lord to his people that he had been firm and kind, he was a soldier he knew not how to rule, but he knew how to command respect and instil loyalty, and he would like to think he had done just that. Regardless his own son, Lann would have an easier time of it than Robb had had. His son was a natural leader, good with a sword, good with people, he had none of the awkwardness that Robb had had, but that was the one thing that would concern Robb now, would his son uphold the vow he and his brother had sworn to Daemon Blackfyre, that they would always fight for his children and his cause? He did not think so, the boy listened to his mother more than he had listened to Robb, and Robb's wife was anything but loyal to the memory of Daemon Blackfyre.
Still he pushed such thoughts from his mind and turned his attention back to what had happened in the days leading up to his escape. He had heard rumours that Aerys Targaryen was gravely ill and that Maekar Targaryen himself was struggling with some sort of illness, if that was the case then perhaps they would be able to launch an invasion sooner rather than later. Of course Robb reminded himself this information had come from Velaryon and a snake, just like his ancestor had been. Robb was not entirely sure whether he believed the man, but of course he was sorely tempted to. Still there was some good news, Velaryon had told him that the Riverlords under Lord Darry's guidance were planning on rebelling against Lord Tully soon enough, to allow a pre-emptive invasion and weaken the riverlords strength.
That would be necessary to distract the Iron Throne for a while, Maekar Targaryen was nothing if not shrewd, but he also had one weakness, he needed to aid those who would have spit in his face had he been anyone else. That would be the reason he fought in the Riverlands, and Stark would bring the north down to crush the Iron Throne, and his promise could be fulfilled. He could see it now, he could taste victory in the air, but then reality hit him like a wave when the ship rocked and he threw up into the bucket once more.
There was still much to be done, for starters he needed to get to Tyrosh and meet with Bittersteel. They would need to discuss the state of Westeros as Robb knew it, and he would need to know what the power structure was in the Golden Company, whether Bittersteel had surrounded himself with fools or men with sense, that was always an issue with the man. He never knew who to trust, and those he trusted like Seastar often hated him.
These thoughts continued floating round his head as he dismounted from the ship onto solid ground for the first time in nearly two moons. They kept circling round his head as he got on a horse and rode for the camp where the Golden Company was camped, and they were still going through his head when he dismounted his horse and greeted Aegor Rivers. The man had always been tall and broad shouldered, strong with a stern look on his face, but the white hairs that were beginning to appear in his hair worried Robb. His voice was still hard as iron though when he spoke. "Ah Lord Reyne so nice to see you once more. It truly has been a long time. Come, come I shall you introduce you."
Introductions are made as Robb Reyne is introduced to Aerion Targaryen, married to Aegor's nephew and apparently much saner than the last time Robb saw him. Haegon and Monterys Blackfyre are introduced as well and Robb does a double take at meeting them for they both look so much like their father, it's as if a ghost has come back to haunt him. The other people he is introduced to are not important, exiled lords far beneath his own standing back home. Once all the introductions are done, he and Aegor retire to the Captain General's tent and sit in silence for a long time, before they catch up on events passed, and then talk turns serious. "How soon do you plan on invading Aegor?" Robb asks.
Bittersteel laughs then. "Ah straight to the point as always. You have not changed Reyne, I have missed your company amongst these petty lords and their squabbles." Robb keeps his face a mask and eventually Aegor relents and says. "Soon enough, there has been news from Westeros that I shall share with you in good time. But first I must know if we can count on House Reyne's support when we invade."
Had he still been Lord of Castamere he would not have hesitated to say that yes, yes they could. But he is not, his son is, and he knows not what his son will do. Aloud though, he cannot disappoint his friend. "Yes of course you can. And that of House Tarbeck as well, I am wed to Lord Tarbeck's sister after all, and the man owes me a blood debt."
Aegor breaks out into one of those rare smiles of his and his tone is light when he says. "That is good. The Lannisters are weak, their lord is but a boy, and a woman rules where once Tybolt Lannister stood tall and imposing. Men grasp for power there, they shall not be fighting in this invasion."
Robb smiles. "That is good news then, that will mean that half the strength of the Westerlands shall march behind us. Lords Westerling, Kayce, Crakehall, Lefford and Tarbeck all bear grudges against the Rock enough to ignore any tension going on there."
Aegor nods and then says. "Aye, we shall also have the support of Volantis as well."
Robb looks at his friend for a moment and then says. "How have you managed that?"
His friend gives another one of those rare smiles then and says. "I wed one of the Triarchs' daughters. Told him that when we take Westeros, his daughter and grandson will belong to the family of the king's right hand man. That was enough for him. These Triarchs are simply people they want power and influence nothing more. The wench is good looking I shall give her that, even if she is a bit slow. She has born me two sons so far, healthy lads the both of them. That is all she is needed for nothing more."
Robb nods and then hesitantly asks. "I had heard talk during my time in the black cells that you held Shiera and Daenaerys Martell here as hostages. Do you still hold them?"
Aegor's face contorts with anger then and he says. "We hold Shiera, but Martell was freed by some savage in the night. I believe her goodbrother is known for holding some cutthroat in his service. It matters not, that woman will not be the same person she was before she came here."
Robb wants to ask his friend how he knows that, but something about his friend's tone puts him off from mentioning it, and instead he asks. "So what are things like between you and Shiera?" He does not bring up the kinslayer though by the scowl on Aegor's face it is obvious he is thinking about the man as well.
His friend's tone is harsh when he replies. "Well, or as well as can be considering she is still a prisoner. Maekar does not think her important enough to ransom back, nor will I willingly give her up. She remains here for now."
Robb nods and then asks the question that has been nagging at him for some time. "Why did Velaryon help me escape Aegor? I had thought him sworn to the Targaryens; after all he had wanted one of Maekar's daughters for his own had he not?"
Aegor smiles grimly then. "He had, but in allowing his son to wed his daughter, Maekar alienated one of his key naval allies. Velaryon wants revenge, but he does not want the other daughter. No his grandson is betrothed to Princess Daella, but he wants more power, he wants his a Velaryon on the throne, and soon enough he shall have it."
Robb nods and then asks. "Now what is this other piece of information that you wished to tell me?"
His friend smiles once more, this time there seems to be genuine joy on his face, something Robb had not seen for a very long time. "We had a raven from one of our sources in the Red Keep, the false king has been ill for a very long time as I am sure you are aware. He died not three days ago. The realm is ripe for war now."