บท 141: Chapter 142: The Meeting
Samwell donned a white linen shirt and a baron's gray velvet coat, strapping the greatsword Dawn across his back before heading toward Lord Renly Baratheon's chambers. On his way, he passed several Gold Cloaks fully armed, their expressions alert and focused.
The Red Keep was shrouded in a tense, ominous atmosphere.
"Apologies, Lord Caesar, but the lord is currently with another guest. Please wait a moment," the guard recognized Samwell and said politely.
"Very well."
Samwell waited in the corridor, glancing idly at the courtyard. The stone path was lined with pebbles, and in the northwest corner stood a plum tree with a large, lazy old cat dozing in the sunlight.
The Red Keep had its fair share of rats, and thus cats abounded, some kept as pets, others strays. Judging by the sleek coat and plump body of this particular cat, it was likely a pet.
As Samwell watched the cat with idle amusement, he suddenly noticed a black cat dart out of nowhere. The creature had only one ear and was sleek and alert.
Following it was a small, wiry figure, moving stealthily and clearly trying to catch the cat.
Samwell's lips curled into a smile as he recognized the figure—Arya Stark, the Hand of the King's youngest daughter.
Barefoot, dirt-streaked, and wearing a leather vest covered in scratches from her feline pursuit, Arya seemed to have been locked in this game of wits with the black cat for some time.
Intent on the cat, Arya hadn't noticed Samwell. Just three steps away from it, she made her move, lunging forward just as the black cat sensed something and sprang away.
With a shout, Arya dove after it, but the cat tried to slip between her legs. Arya, however, anticipated its move, catching it in her arms and laughing triumphantly.
The cat let out a furious hiss, claws raking her vest but managing only to leave scratches on the leather.
Quick as lightning, Arya kissed the cat between its eyes and then pulled back just before it could scratch her face.
The black cat growled angrily, spitting at her.
"Well done," Samwell clapped.
Startled, Arya's grip loosened, allowing the black cat to slip away. By the time she turned, it had already disappeared.
"Lord Caesar!" Arya didn't seem angry that Samwell had scared her prey. Instead, she ran up to him with a wide grin. "What brings you here?"
"I'm here to see Lord Renly." Samwell smiled, attempting to smooth her disheveled hair, though to little effect—it was matted with sweat, dirt, and even bits of spiderweb. "What are you up to, looking so wild?"
"Catching cats!" Arya said proudly, hands on her hips. "My dancing master Syrio taught me. He's the First Sword of Braavos, you know!"
The Water Dancer, Syrio Forel.
Samwell's interest was piqued. So, the legendary swordsman had indeed arrived in King's Landing and had become Arya's teacher, just as fate had intended.
"I've heard of him. He's a skilled swordsman," Samwell said, though he privately doubted such elegant techniques would be effective against armored knights.
"Yes! He told me to be as still as shadow and as light as a feather. That way, I'd be able to catch the cats. I've caught nearly every cat in the Red Keep—only that black one with one ear remains. They say it used to be Princess Rhaenys Targaryen's pet, named Balerion—just like Aegon the Conqueror's dragon! I'm determined to catch it."
"Good luck."
"Thanks!" Arya grinned and dashed off.
What a carefree little wolf, Samwell thought, wondering if the approaching storm would alter her fate.
Just then, the door opened.
Samwell turned to see Margaery Tyrell stepping out with a radiant smile.
She wore a deep green gown with a lace-embroidered rose at the back, elegant and stately. Spotting Samwell, she beamed, "Samwell! I heard your voice just now. Are you here to see Lord Renly too?"
"Yes, Lady Margaery," Samwell inclined his head respectfully.
"Come in, then. No one here is a stranger."
"Thank you."
Inside, he found Margaery's brothers, Garlan and Loras Tyrell. It was clear to him that Renly was rallying House Tyrell's support.
However, Samwell thought, House Tyrell held little power within King's Landing itself. The few guards they had were stationed outside the Red Keep, rendering them largely ineffective here.
Renly welcomed Samwell warmly, gesturing for him to sit. "Please, Sam. Oh, and forgive me—may I call you Sam?"
"Of course, Lord Renly."
"No need for formalities, Sam. Just call me Renly."
Renly Baratheon was certainly skilled at social graces. With his handsome looks and noble lineage, he had a way of putting people at ease.
In times of peace, Renly would indeed make a splendid king. But Samwell thought of the Night's Watchman Mance Rayder's words—Renly was a knight of summer.
He shone in fair weather, yet he was sure to wilt like a delicate flower when the storm struck.
Samwell had never considered Renly a true rival, sensing that this Baratheon lord could not compete with the more ruthless players of the game.
After exchanging greetings with Garlan and Loras, Samwell took a seat.
To his surprise, Margaery poured him a cup of tea herself.
"Sam, what brings you here today?" Renly asked.
Samwell held the cup, as if choosing his words carefully. "Lord Renly, forgive my boldness, but I must ask—when will Lord Jon's murder trial take place? You know, I've lingered in King's Landing for nearly a month now, and I am concerned about my lands."
"I understand your concerns, Sam. I, too, would prefer to hold the trial as soon as possible and condemn the Red Viper, so that Robert may rest in peace. Unfortunately, Lord Eddard believes it's not the right time."
"But you're the Master of Laws," Samwell pressed cautiously. "Surely this matter falls under your authority. Perhaps Lord Eddard is overstepping?"
The question was bold, but Renly laughed heartily. "Lord Eddard is the King's Hand, overseeing the capital's affairs. I can't exactly defy him."
In truth, Renly's frustration with Eddard Stark was growing, as was his eagerness to assume the powers of regency himself.
The more Renly looked at Samwell, the more he liked him. "Sam, you needn't worry. Soon enough, I won't need to heed Eddard Stark's opinions."
Samwell's suspicion solidified—Renly had tampered with the king's will.
"The Knight of Flowers" Loras Tyrell spoke openly: "Ser Samwell, Lord Renly has just informed us that the king's will names him as Regent and Protector of the Realm."
Samwell feigned surprise.
In the original tale, Robert had named Eddard Stark as regent. Had Renly truly altered the will? How had he done it? Could Robert's mind have deteriorated?
"Congratulations, Lord Renly," Samwell offered a polite smile.
Renly waved his thanks, saying, "I am honored by my brother's trust, and I must work diligently to maintain stability here in the Red Keep and throughout the realm. That's why I've gathered you all here today."
This was Renly's subtle call for House Tyrell's formal support.
Loras immediately spoke up, "Rest assured, Lord Renly. House Tyrell stands firmly with you and will help maintain stability in the Seven Kingdoms."
Garlan glanced at his brother and added, "Yes, Lord Renly. House Tyrell will offer you whatever support is needed."
"I'll forever remember House Tyrell's loyalty," Renly said earnestly, before turning to Samwell.
Samwell cursed inwardly but managed to say, "As a vassal of Lord Mace, I naturally follow House Tyrell's lead."
"Excellent!" Renly exclaimed, standing with excitement. "Please, spread the word to the Reach nobles here in the Red Keep. With your support, I am confident we can stabilize the realm after my brother's passing and prevent any would-be usurpers from seizing power."
Loras responded eagerly, "We'll ensure all the Reach nobles in the Red Keep are on your side, Lord Renly."
Fools!
Samwell cursed again internally.
Garlan and Loras, did you even consult Lady Olenna, the "Queen of Thorns," before pledging loyalty? And as for Renly, revealing such a sensitive matter to the Reach nobles!
All it would take was one traitor or a loose tongue, and Renly's tampering with the will would be known to all. The moment that secret was out, every ambitious figure in the Red Keep would unite to eliminate him.
Besides, Renly failed to recognize the real players in this power struggle. How many Reach nobles were even in the Red Keep? A handful, with hardly enough swords to make a difference.
As for their guards, the Reach lords had perhaps a few hundred men with them outside the Red Keep. If things turned sour, the main gates would be barred, leaving them helpless outside.
When it came to decisive forces within the Red Keep, only two groups truly mattered: the Kingsguard and the City Watch.
Though the Kingsguard numbered only seven, each was an elite knight with unmatched combat prowess, revered throughout the realm. Their mere presence was enough to intimidate most common soldiers, who would scarcely dare to raise arms against them.
But while the Kingsguard were nearly impossible to sway, the City Watch was another matter entirely. Renly's real focus should have been on securing their loyalty, not on rallying the Reach nobles.
Samwell felt increasingly like he'd boarded a sinking ship, bound to Renly and the Tyrells by his vassalage, unable to abandon them now.
Frustrated, he glanced around and noticed Margaery Tyrell standing silently nearby. The "Rose of Highgarden" seemed to sense his thoughts and looked his way.
Their eyes met, and in that moment, Samwell felt as though they both understood each other perfectly.
(End of Chapter)
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