NOVEL SIMPLE Chapter 124: The Fat Stag and the Queen Must Stay Married
“No! You can't hire the Faceless Men!” exclaimed an elderly man with nearly no teeth and a white beard cascading down his chest. This was Jon Arryn, Robert's foster father and the Hand of the King, Lord of The Eyrie.
Lord Arryn was acutely aware of the dire financial state of the Iron Throne. Since Robert's ascent to the throne, his lifestyle had been nothing short of extravagant. The man had little interest in governance, as if overthrowing the Targaryens had been merely a pretext for indulgence. Despite Lord Arryn’s attempts to curb his foster son’s growing excesses, his efforts had been largely in vain.
“Why? How much does it cost to kill a sellsword?” Robert asked with a trace of irritation.
“Your Grace,” responded another man, older and rosy-cheeked despite his years, “hiring a Faceless Man costs as much as raising an army. And this Viserys—”
“Call him a dragon's spawn!” interrupted the ever-youthful Pycelle, who hastily corrected himself when Robert glared at him.
But a flicker of contempt crossed Pycelle's eyes as he continued. “This dragon's spawn is also the champion of the Swordsmanship Tournament in Braavos and now serves as a sergeant in a mercenary group. The cost would likely be even higher, and our finances for this quarter are already overspent...”
“How can we be in the red again?” Robert demanded, his eyes bulging as his breath came in short gasps. He couldn’t fathom why the taxes collected each quarter were never enough, as if the whores’ silk robes were made of rags.
“Raise taxes this year!”
“No, we can't raise taxes!” Jon Arryn objected again, causing Robert to lean back in his chair with a deep scowl. The chair groaned under his weight. Arryn felt helpless before his adopted son. Sometimes, he was tempted to call him a usurper outright. And even more troubling was Robert’s son, Joffrey. Jon Arryn suspected the boy would prove even worse than his father. Recently, he had also taken on the burden of suppressing the rumors about Cersei and Jaime.
Everyone knew that Robert and the Queen had always had a strained relationship. Now, with the Iron Throne increasingly reliant on the wealth of the Westerlands, Jon Arryn believed that no matter what, Robert and Cersei must remain married.
At this point, Robert suddenly remembered something Varys had told him about Jorah the Bear. He turned to Varys and asked if Jorah had provided any new information. Varys glanced at Jon Arryn, conflicted. He was the spymaster serving Robert and owed loyalty to the king, but Lord Arryn had previously instructed him to keep this from Robert.
“Your Grace, there is no good news from Ser Jorah at present.”
‘No good news doesn’t mean no bad news,’ Varys thought to himself. But he knew such vague answers could be dangerous for an advisor. If Robert discovered the truth, he might not be able to stay in King's Landing. But with Robert neglecting state affairs and Lord Arryn running the court, Varys decided to stay silent for now.
“That useless piece of shit!” Robert roared.
‘Viserys isn’t worth worrying about. He’s just another Bittersteel. We have so many problems in the Seven Kingdoms that need solving. The Ironborn are harassing the North, the Reach and Dorne are at odds...’ Jon Arryn was exhausted. The issues Robert listed were just the tip of the iceberg.
Robert's plans for his two younger brothers and their future marriages weighed heavily on Jon Arryn's mind. The king seemed determined to entangle Ned Stark’s family further. It was clear that the last thing Robert should do was alienate House Tyrell and House Martell, who had only recently sworn allegiance. Jon Arryn suspected that after his death, Robert would waste no time bringing Ned to King's Landing and arranging a marriage with his daughter.
In the end, the meeting reached no resolution. They decided to let Littlefinger select some capable men to attempt an assassination of Viserys.
Outside the council chambers, word of Viserys reached the Kingsguard in the Red Keep. The news shocked Barristan the Bold most of all. In the original tale, the Targaryen siblings had been displaced, making it difficult to hear of them from across the Narrow Sea. But now, Viserys was making waves wherever he went—this was the second time in half a year Barristan had heard his name.
He had served Aerys for many years and knew Queen Rhaella, Viserys’ mother, well. Although no news had been confirmed, Barristan couldn’t shake the feeling that Queen Rhaella had crowned Viserys on Dragonstone. This was common practice among the royal family. Judging by recent reports, Viserys’ courage seemed to rival his own. If he had been a few years older when the rebellion broke out...
“Ser Barristan.”
A clear voice interrupted his thoughts. He didn’t need to turn around to know who it was—Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer. His golden hair was adorned with gold leaf, and his blue eyes sparkled with a gentle brightness. He stood on the Red Keep's training grounds in his white cloak, as if he belonged nowhere else. Barristan’s eyes grew cold as he gave Jaime a frosty glance.
“Ser, would you care to spar?”
“Not today. I’m a bit tired. Perhaps another time,” Barristan declined almost immediately, as he had done every time Jaime had asked.
“Very well.”
Disappointment flickered in Jaime’s eyes as he watched Barristan’s retreating figure. Since being branded a Kingslayer, few had been willing to associate with him. Though no one dared to show their disdain openly, Jaime knew they all looked down on him.
...
Sunspear, Dorne.
On the coast of Sunspear lies a "fortress," an imposing structure that resembles a jagged boulder. It is said that this was the original stronghold of House Martell before Nymeria's arrival in Dorne. Now, it has been incorporated into Sunspear itself, serving as the residence of House Martell.
About three miles west of Sunspear are the Water Gardens, built by Prince Maron Martell as a gift for his bride, Daenerys. The current Prince, Doran Martell, frequently retreats here to find relief from his worsening gout.
Due to his location, Prince Doran received news of Viserys's activities before word reached King's Landing. At this moment, he was discussing the matter with his cousin, Manfrey Martell, and his eldest daughter, Arianne. Manfrey was close to Doran in age.
“It’s likely Myr or Lys,” Manfrey speculated.
“Lys? Is he dabbling with poison again?” Doran replied with evident displeasure.
Oberyn Martell, the Red Viper, had once poisoned his own blade during a duel, killing his opponent. Although conclusive evidence was never found, everyone believed Oberyn responsible. Feared for his expertise with poisons, the Red Viper had often caused trouble for House Martell due to his fiery temperament.
“No, Oberyn mentioned that the Myrish have developed a new medicine to ease pain...” As Manfrey spoke, Doran’s anger subsided slightly. His brother, it seemed, still exercised some restraint. The pain from his gout was nearly unbearable. When it struck, it felt as though a nail had been driven into his joints, followed by a burning sensation that spread across his body. Worst of all, the pain darted unpredictably, often targeting his head.
To avoid revealing his weakened state, Doran rarely appeared before his advisers.
After a moment of thought, Doran said, “Send someone to find him and have him contact Viserys.”
“Understood.”
“And also... ugh...” Doran tried to continue, but another bout of pain seized him. Manfrey shouted urgently, “Someone, quickly! Prepare cold water!” Arianne rushed to her father's side. Despite the strained relationship, a bond still existed between them as father and daughter.
Before the ice water arrived, a servant brought a bowl of milk of the poppy to ease Doran's suffering. He drank it almost like water to alleviate the pain. However, after years of using it, his body had built a certain tolerance. As she watched her father’s face contort in agony, Arianne could do little but hold him and offer comfort.
As Doran aged, his gout attacks had grown longer and more severe. What began as brief episodes now stretched into hours of excruciating pain, leaving him bedridden for days. During these bouts, Doran, who had ruled Dorne for over a decade, would break down, weeping in despair.
...
Under the guidance of the holy sister Remell, the silver-haired Aegon diligently studied noble etiquette. In Illyrio's eyes, his son was more regal than any noble in Pentos. Yet, recent news about Viserys troubled him.
Illyrio, who had always kept a close watch on Viserys, learned of his movements faster than anyone in Westeros. Pirates! When Illyrio first heard that Viserys had ventured to the "Orange Shore," he feared the worst, thinking Viserys might perish there. He even began to plan for Dany’s removal, considering marrying her off.
But when he learned that not only was Viserys safe, but that he was also rumored to have defeated the notorious pirates—a feat achieved by assassinating the pirate leader—Illyrio was both impressed and unsettled.
In the past, Illyrio had seen Viserys as a fish in his pond, one he could catch whenever he pleased. But now, that fish had grown beyond his grasp. If he wasn’t careful, he might be the one swallowed, bones and all.
As he pondered whether to have Connington leave the Golden Company and assume a new identity with another mercenary group, a letter from Connington arrived. After quickly reading its contents, Illyrio called out to young Aegon in the courtyard, “Young Griff, your father will be coming to see you soon.”
It was a bitter feeling, having his son call another man "father."
