Chapter 38: Chapter 38
King's Landing
Pyp's body ached like nobodies business. His joints creaked and groaned with each movement he made. His bones felt like jelly, like one wrong step and he would drop to the ground and flop aimlessly like a fish out of water.
Thankfully, by now, he had come to appreciate the aches. It signified that he had just finished another day of hard, honest work. The aromas of the canteen made his stomach growl with excitement. Although the food that was served in the tenement was simple bread, soup and fish, the smell was more than enough to bring him to nearly salivating at the prospect of having something to chow down on.
The line moved quickly as men were given their food by the wenches that worked as cooks. The men made japes and cat called at some of the prettier ones, but to Pyp most of them were rather plain or homely. He had seen prettier wenches working the fields back in his village.
When he reached the food serving counter, the woman on the other side splashed some steaming soup into his bowl, then the next one some mushy green peas and carrots. At the end, he grabbed a piece of bread that was warm to the touch out of the bread basket.
Freshly baked and not that long ago as well, judging by the heat of it.
"Haven't seen you around before." Someone said to him as he took a seat at a nearby table.
Pyp looked up, breaking a piece of bread. "I've been round 'ere for a while." He told the man, his voice just loud enough to be heard above the din and sounds of the cafeteria.
Pyp had been in the capital for a couple of moons to be honest, but he wouldn't be surprised that no-one knew of him. He most kept to himself and his bunk.
He had yet to make any friends.
The man was older than him. Probably the same age as his own father. His face was lined with age, plain brown eyes located in the sockets that were his eyes and his nose was strangely crooked. He gave Pyp a wide toothy smile and Pyp saw that the man was missing some teeth.
"Name's Huwie. I've been round here for a while as well." Huwie stuck a hand out to shake.
Pyp noticed and felt the calluses on the man's hand as he shook his hand. "Pyp." He replied simply enough.
"So where you from?"
Pyp had been wrong. The bread hadn't been out for a while, it was scalding hot. He had burned his finger and would have cried out, but he didn't want to attract attention. "A small village just a few leagues from the capital." He told him, trying his best to quench the stinging pain on his finger.
"Another village boy, eh?" Huwie said with a shake of the head. "Lemme guess, you are a second son or something of the likes."
The smile that came to his lips was sheepish in nature. "Fifth actually."
The older man laughed. "Fifth? We don't get many fifth sons. There's not that many fifth sons. Mostly third or fourth sons. Extra mouths to feed that farming families can't afford to feed anymore."
Pyp tried his best to hide his frown. What the man was saying was hitting very close as to why he had come to the capital in the first place. It was beginning to get expensive for his family to feed him and his siblings along with everyone else.
There was little work to go around as well, with these new fangled contraptions that were coming out of the work shops of Aegondale that reduced the amount of people needed to work and till the fields. It had eventually come to the point that he and two of his brothers had come to the city to look for other work.
Work that was inconsistent to come by, but when it came, paid well enough to last him until he found his next job. Just as his recent job of helping with the reconstruction efforts of the docks and buildings that were damaged during the looting of the night.
"Aye." He said with a nod as he dipped a piece of bread into the soup and popped it into his mouth. "That be the truth of it."
"Only one to come to King's Landing?"
Pyp shook his head. "No. Me and two of my brothers came to the city."
The man nodded in understanding. "And what do they do? They here as well?"
"They joined the Crown Army." Gyles and Frank were big, strong boys. Bigger than him. Stronger than him. Better fighters than him. Didn't mean that he wouldn't worry after them. They were his brothers.
They had liked him, stayed in a boarding house, picking up the odd jobs from the work house. Working at the docks as a teamster or even down the river at the massive work shops of Aegondale. Having been taught how to read by their village septon and septa, they had seen the large posters hanged around the notice board that called for men.
The poster had been larger than any piece of paper he had seen before on it was the imprint of Aerys head seemingly staring and pointing at him from the poster with the words, 'LOYAL SUBJECT'S, THE KING WANTS YOU! JOIN THE CROWN ARMY! GODS SAVE THE KING!'
His brothers had immediately lapped it up and soon had looked into the means of joining the king's army. His brothers may have found the poster inspiring, he had found it unnerving, especially with the way that it seemed the king's eyes will follow you, no matter where you walked.
That was simply unnatural. It was a gods forsaken piece of paper. How could it have so much power over him?
Huwie nodded his head in understanding. "A good choice as any when it comes to work. I've known a few of the younger lads that lived in these boarding houses to have gone and joined the king's army. Regular coin, boarding and food. Not a bad deal in truth, especially in service to our great king."
A king as great as Aerys. The septon and septa back home had said the same as well. They had said that they were learning how to read and write thanks to the blessed machinations of Aerys. Of how they were being taught the holy word thanks to his magnanimity.
Pyp often found it strange. The Faith heaped praise upon praise on Aerys, yet one of the most stringest sins of the Seven Pointed Star was that of incest. Aerys was the product of incest. An abomination in the eyes of the Seven and their followers.
Yet at the same time, they worshiped him. He had even heard many say that he was blessed by the Smith himself.
He was smart enough to keep these thoughts to himself.
Huwie laughed as he continued talking. "I would have signed up as well, but I'm a little too old for such things."
Pyp could tell. "Did you come from a village as well?"
"No. I was born in King's Landing. Lived 'ere my whole life." His smile turned sad. "Born and raised in Flea Bottom. Destroyed and turned into nothing more than ash in the Great Fire thanks to those fucking cunts, the Blackfyres." He had said the name with so much venom that it had caught Pyp off-guard for a few moments. Huwie shook his head. "Was lucky to get out alive. Can't say the same about many others."
He nodded. "I'm sorry to hear about that."
"All in the past. Time heals all wounds as the saying goes." He leaned forward onto the table. "Listen boy, if you ever need some extra coin or if you want to earn some at the side when work isn't turning up, just come to me."
Pyp couldn't help but be a little suspicious. His brothers had told him about this. About folk that would be nice and all to him, but try and entice him into a world that he would want nothing to do with.
Huwie continued speaking, oblivious to the internal turmoil that was waging within Pyp's head. "You are a big boy, and all that time working on the farm has given you some size and strength. I can see that easily enough, saw it down at the docks as well when you carried all that timber easier than most would have been able to." Pyp slowly nodded as he slowly scooped up some peas and carrots into the wooden spoon and into his mouth. "I know some people that do a little wrestling on the side. Nothing too much, but enough to make good coin."
Pyp blinked. A wrestling ring? That wasn't so bad. He had wrestled all the time with his brothers back when he was young. Sure he lost most of the time, but he won some of the other time.
"Wrestling?" He repeated.
Huwie gave him that wide tooth smile that showed the gaps again. "Wrestling." He confirmed with a nod of the head. "There's good coin in it. Just find me if you are interested." Like that, he picked up his bowl and began to leave.
Pyp watched him go before turning back to his food. Wrestling didn't sound all that bad. He could earn some extra coin that could be added to the coin that he was already saving. Perhaps he would be able to do well enough in the ring and be able to go back home.
It was certainly worth the thought.
xXx
Okay then, so waterboarding was now a thing.
When I had turned up in Westeros, I had thought I was you know, going to make things better. You know, tweeking a little things there, a little things here and somethings over there. All for the greater good and keeping the white walkers as far away from me as possible.
I did not think introducing waterboarding was one of those things I was going to introduce that was going to make the world all for the better.
The man was gasping for air, trying to spit out water that trickled into his lungs. "Gods, mercy, please stop."
To be honest, a part of me thought that he was having it easy. It could be worse, I wanted to say, because by now, the man would be nothing more than a bloody wreck of a man from all the lashings and other things that would have been subjected to him and his fellows.
Hell, when I had first come to see the progress of the...questioning, I had found the gaolers and torturers just about ready to bugger them for kicks. Apparently, rape was okay as torture. Well, I didn't condone any form of rape, so a new policy had to be thought up when it came to interrogation.
Apparently, that new policy included coming with completely knew torture means brought up by moi. That was something that I wasn't particularly happy about it, let alone pleased with.
"Who sent you?" I asked, standing over the man.
"I don't know." The man coughed out. There was an accent to the man's voice, somewhere from down south. Perhaps the stormlands? Well, at least that gave me somewhere to start looking for clues. "I was just hired by a man. He didn't give me a name, I didn't ask. Just the initial coin for the job."
I sighed and took a step back. "Again."
"Nogodspleasenomore-!" He was cut off as a rag was placed over his mouth and the gaoler started pouring water over the rag. The man struggled, his limbs strapped down on the table as he fought against every man's instinct and primal fear of drowning when he wasn't actually drowning.
I made a motion with my hand after counting to twenty inside my head. The gaoler stopped and removed the rag, allowing the man to take deep hacking breaths and cough and splatter non-existent water once more.
The question came easy from my mouth. I had asked it enough times as it was. "Who hired you?"
"I don't know!" The saboteur was close to crying, his eyes glistening and watering...or perhaps that was simply the spray from the water. He sobbed. "I don't know..."
From somewhere down the halls of the black cells, a scream rang out. It sounded like a strangled kitten, even though I didn't know what sounds strangled kittens made. Another victim of some rather innovative new methods of torture that had been brought about by my introduction of technology.
Figures.
Always count on humanity coming up with the worst ways to use something clearly meant for the betterment of everyone.
This place was beginning to darken my mood. "Keep questioning him and his fellows. I don't want them dead though. They'll break eventually." I told the gaoler in charge of this particular session of interrogation.
The freakishly pale man nodded his head. "Yes, y'grace."
I left not long after that.
Some people debated on the usefulness of torture. In one hand, some would argue that it's a slightly effective means of gaining information, another argued that it was inhumane and the information gained would be sketchy at best.
Who's to say the prisoner would say anything to make the torture stop?
When the men broke and when something resembling an answer was given to us, I was going to have to wrestle with that knowledge in mind to determine whether the information I learned is whether true or the act of some desperate man to stop the hurt.
The saboteurs themselves were a strange group of people. The gold cloaks had captured several dozen of them, some in better conditions than others due to the fighting involved. We had been able to recognise men from all across the Seven Kingdoms from the accents to men from across the narrow sea.
In other words, sellswords that had taken the task on promise of gold.
Considering the danger involved with the task that they had been set, I figured who ever hired them were bloody rich and had coin to spare...which didn't do much in narrowing down the suspect list. Which in truth was thin list as well.
Alequo Adarys happened to be the only name on the list to begin with.
I really did not feel like fighting a war with Tyrosh or any Free City in truth.
Well, not a conventional war anyway. A trade war though...that might be something I could look into. Hell, some people might argue that we were already having a trade war as it was.
xXx
It hadn't been that long since I last saw Tywin, but I think his hair was thinning at the front. Or perhaps it was just the light at play. If he showed any form of discomfort at this fact, he didn't show it.
"Your Grace." Tywin greeted with an incline of the head.
"It's Aerys to you, Tywin. None of that 'Your Grace' nonsense." I told him. Really, he would think by now to know that I didn't particularly care for all that bollocks unless it's in public were customs have to be observed. "I heard about your father. If it's an consolation, I'm sorry."
Tytos Lannister had just died a month prior and it just so happened to be a week after I had sent a raven to Casterly Rock to ask for Tywin's presence at court. Figured I might as well use him for something.
The now ascended Warden of the West and Lord of Casterly Rock's mouth tightened into a thin line somewhat. "Thank you. My lord father was a good man." Their was a bit of a strange inflection to his voice.
Apparently, Tywin didn't know whether to dislike his father for his weakness or love him as a son should.
"You didn't have to come." I said to him. "You could have just sent a raven telling of your current situation. I would have understood." I rather felt bad for making him come to the capital so soon instead of mourning after his father, someone he clearly loved, even if he didn't respect the man.
"The world turns and men move with it. It doesn't stop for any one man."
I nodded. "Much to the chagrin of many, I suspect. I figure you already have an inkling of why I asked for you."
"A small council position, I suspect." Tywin said, green eyes flecked with gold boring into me. Some would find that intimidating, but Aerys had been on the receiving end of that particular stare for so long that it had stopped bothering him.
"I've been rebuilding the small council for a while now. By the time I'm done with it, I doubt many would be able to say that it resembles the old councils of old."
"What will you be having me do?" He didn't really care much for the sally, did he?
Straight to the point, I smiled at that. "I need a Minister of the Treasury. In other words, you will be in charge of financial and monetary matters of the realm. I figured who better to manage the treasury of the realm none other than a Lord of Casterly Rock who also happens to be a good friend of mine?"
Question was, would Tywin take this as an insult or not? He was prideful and some would take the position of the Minister of the Treasury as a different but still nearly the same continuation of the master of coin. A position that was considered rather the lowest of the small council positions, which didn't make much sense considering the amount of power that such a position could hold.
I suppose Littlefinger was the only one who was well aware of the potential in the office. Speaking of Littlefinger, I needed to look out for him. Don't actually know when he turns up, but I at the very least know that he's going to be a ward of Hoster Tully...if the butterflies don't set off any sort of tsunami or the likes.
Tywin didn't give me much of an indication onto his personal thoughts or reaction to my offer as he gave me a reply. "I'll accept the duty, your grace."
"Good man!" I exclaimed happily enough with a smile on my face. I pushed over a booklet to his side of the table. "That over there is to help you settle in. There's all the functions, the people that you need to know who will be working underneath you as well as further explanation of your office's duties."
Tywin picked up the booklet and began to skim through it, his eyes flickering from one side of the page to the other. "In your reformation of the small council, how many seats will there be?" He asked.
"Quite a few." I answered as I stroked my jaw. "I still have quite the number of places to fill out with capable men and women."
Tywin's eyes flicked up then in interest. "Women?"
"Women." I repeated firmly. "Some might question me on that decision, but Dorne seems to function well enough when it is ruled by a Princess." I looked at him curiously. "And don't tell me you don't take sage counsel from Joanna." He made a sound then and I smirked. "Women are just as capable as men if given the opportunity."
"Aerys..." Tywin began slowly.
I waved him off. "No. I don't plan on naming Dany my heir. There's firm precedent when it comes to the succession of the Iron Throne. I doubt it will change any time soon and I'm already rocking the boat as it is with many of my policies. I rather not rock it anymore than it is already."
Policies that I had inherited from Egg's reign. It was rather silly the amount of petitions that I had to sit through from various lords asking me to renounce many of his reforms. Apparently, asking the high lords to treat the smallfolk like people was a little bit above them and threatened their rights for nothing more than a quirk of birth.
He nodded then, accepting my answer, turning his attention back to the booklet I had given him. "If I may ask, have you approached Steffon for a position on the small council?"
"He's not interested." I answered with a snort. "He told me to ask for him whenever I have something more to his skills and abilities. Probably something to do with crushing heads, I suspect."
At times, Tywin did this thing with his lips that seemed like he was just threatening to actually smile. Just like he was doing as of now. "That does sound like him." He rose up from his seat. "May I take your leave, your grace?"
I held back a roll of the eyes at how he addressed me, but I rose up from my own seat nonetheless. "Of course. There's a steward outside that would be more than willing to show you to your offices."
xXx
Honestly, Luc preferred attending his kingly father's school rather than sitting through hours and hours on end of boring private lectures with Maester Gyldayn and a bunch of other maesters he really couldn't be bothered learning the names of. They made everything so boring, the only thing that kept him from sleeping through everything was because he knew he suffered together with Dany and Daeron.
She hated the lectures just about as much as she did and Daeron was boring since he always asked questions and answered them first when Maester Gyldayn asked them.
Which is why the both of them had been so happy and elated when they found out that for two days of the week, they would attend the school that father had built that had other children. The size of the school was bewildering. Not as big as the Red Keep of course, but still big.
The school also happened to be loads and loads of fun. There were so many children to play with. They had met so many new people and played so many games.
Although it was difficult to make friends though. Everyone knew them as Princess Daenerys and Prince Lucerys Targaryen, the children of King Aerys Targaryen. They also knew Daeron. Sort of obvious really, his father was a prince and the Hand of the King.
In other words, it was really difficult for them to make any sort of friends. They either flattered them soooo much that it was easy to tell that they really weren't worth their time. The others never at all approached them in fear of something.
Then there was also the fact that they never really played any of the more physical games with them. They worried too much about hurting them and being punished by the king.
Which was silly. Father was a complete and utter softy. He wouldn't hurt a child.
Which also meant when the other children during Sports, wrestled or played ball sports, him and Daeron would always sit at the side and watch the other children play. Like now. They were seated at the side as the rest of their class played rugby.
Daeron winched when he saw one tackle that knocked one of the children into the ground. "That must have hurt."
"I could do that so much better." Luc said, knees brought up to his chest and resting his chin on them. "This is boring. You would think they wouldn't worry about hurting us with father's declaration."
Daeron fidgeted on his seat for a moment before deciding to lie down. "Declaration or not, people would still be wary of gaining the wrath of the king."
"Wrath? Father?" He snorted in amusement. "I've never seen Father even so much as angry. He's always nice and considerate. He wouldn't be angry at them for doing something." He then eyed the two Kingsguard that stood at the side. He knew there were more Kingsguard around, patrolling the area in search of threats to his and Daeron's lives. "I blame them. If they weren't ther, I'm sure we would be playing with the others as well."
"Yeah, sure." Daeron muttered. He craned his head somewhat and an eyebrow rose up his head. "Huh, I don't think I know them."
Luc turned his head in the direction that Daeron was facing and noticed that three children were coming their way. The most noticeable one strode in the centre, taller than the others, he had fair skin and pale blond hair. To his left was a sourly looking dark-haired boy, his hands stuffed into his pockets whilst another was a fierce red haired, eyeing their surroundings eerie.
"I don't know them either." Yet they were clearly coming towards the two of them. They eventually stood in front of them and Luc got up to his feet and greeted them. "Hello."
The tall one pale blond one was the first to greet him back. "Hello, Prince Lucerys." There was a certain drawl to his voice, an accent that he couldn't quite place.
Luc didn't like being referred to as 'Prince Lucerys' it was just Luc or not bother his name at all. What also bothered him was that this boy seemed to be taller than him, even though they seemed to be the same age.
He crossed his arms. "You can call me Luc."
That took the blond boy back a bit. "B-But you are a prince. Of the blood royal. It's not proper."
Luc raised an eyebrow. "Well, do I have to command you to address me as such? I would rather not, so just call me Luc." And why was the red haired one looking at him like that?
The dark haired sourly looking one's lips formed a thin, wry smile in amusement. "That's good then. Lucerys is a mouthful. I suppose I should introduce myself then, I'm Oswell Whent, at your service."
Whent? He had been taught about the Houses of the Riverlands and House Whe-.
"Of Harrenhal?" Daeron asked, having rose to his feet some time ago by the looks of it.
His cousin earned his ire for stealing his thunder.
"The one and only." Oswell said with a flourish of the hand. "Bit of a dreary place, if you ask me."
"I would think so. Harren and his sons died in that castle rather brutally, I might say." Daeron made a show of shivering in fright. "And the stories. Oh the stories."
Oswell Whent smirked somewhat. "It's not so bad. Sometimes, you can hear the children screaming as the bats of Mad Danelle carry them away. It's calming in it's own way."
The red haired finally took his eyes of wonder away from Luc to glance at Oswell with a strange look. "Why are you so strange?" His only answer was a shrug of the shoulders. The boy introduced himself next. "Jon Connington, your-Luc." He corrected himself, yet it was obvious to the young prince that he was having some trouble saying it.
It will grow on them, he told himself.
"Of Griffin's Roost." The prince said quickly to stop his cousin from outshining him, again. This came easy to him than the other one. "You're far from home, aren't you?" Was father's school taking in children from further across the realm?
And the Conningtons were a lordly house of significant stature. Most of the lordlings he had come to know were from knightly houses and minor nobility that he would admit he had never heard of before until he met them.
"Aye, that I am." Jon Connington admitted. He indicated towards the tall boy of the trio. "But not as far as him."
"A Dayne, huh." Daeron beat him to the conclusion again. "You really are far from home."
Taking a second look at the pale blond haired youth, the prince could see that his eyes were of a deep blue that could be mistaken for purple. The Daynes were the only house that could have such features, even if their ancestry is questioned on whether they are from Valyria or not.
The Dayne scion nodded his head. "Arthur Dayne, your grace-." A sharp look from Luc made him falter in his sentence. "...Luc."
Luc beamed him a smile. "See, was that so hard?" The Dayne didn't reply but Luc took this a sign to mean that he had to beat some sense into him. Into all of them. "So what would you three want with us?" He doubted they had just approached him and Daeron, at the same time, just out of curiosity.
"Truth be told, from this day forth, we are going to be attending the court as cup-bearers to the king and his Hand." Arthur Dayne answered.
The prince and his cousin shared a look between each other. "You do know that our father's are at the Red Keep right? Not here." Daeron pointed out.
"We know." Jon Connington said with a nod. "We were told that for the day, we were to introduce ourselves to the two of you. To get to know each other."
Luc groaned, causing the others to look at him. "My father is behind this. I don't know how, I just know it."
This was embarrassing. Apparently, his father thought he was so pathetic in making friends and companions that he needed to step in himself.
This sounded especially like something he would do.
Why he chose these particular three boys to befriend him, was beyond the reasoning of the young prince. Didn't his father know that friends couldn't be forced into being made?
Sometimes, it was like dealing with a child when it came to his father.
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