Chương 173: A war on the horizon

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third person pov seventh moon 288AC

Corruption and decay were the words many septons used to describe what their faith had become in recent years, often witnessing how foreigners took the lands that once belonged to the Faith of the Seven.

But, due to the corruption and greed that consumed the institution meant to protect its flock, they did nothing. They did nothing as the foreigners invaded them, they did nothing as the foreigners deceived the faithful with a false god, and they did nothing to expel them. On the contrary, they collaborated with them.

As a result, thousands of faithful were killed and displayed like dogs on crosses when they tried to reclaim what rightfully belonged to the Faith of the Seven. With no support from the High Septon or the great lords, it was a lost battle.

But the true faithful would not stop. They called themselves Sparrows because they said the sparrow was as common as they were. For this reason, many dared to recover the crucified bodies of their martyrs, even in the face of the death warning proclaimed by the foreign pagans. They gathered all the bodies in King's Landing so that the septons, who didn't want to do anything, would begin to see the consequences of their inactions, forming small mountains of bones in front of the Sept of Baelor with all those who had fallen at the hands of foreigners.

Every day, a growing mass of people gathered at the Sept of Baelor to try to convince the High Septon to intervene and support the faithful in their fight against the pagans, although without much success.

One of those days, while the crowd gathered, the High Septon died in his sleep after several days of suffering from stomach pains.

For many, this was seen as the Stranger's intervention, finally claiming the life of a man who was not worthy of leading the flock against the adversities they faced. All their hopes were placed on the election of the next High Septon.

But to everyone's disappointment, when the Council of the Most Devout met, rumors began to spread everywhere the likely winner of the election would be a septon with the same intentions as the previous High Septon complaining a lot but doing nothing against the foreign invaders and the many pagans still remaining in the Seven Kingdoms.

While the election was taking place, the people, tired of the Faith's inaction, attacked the few guards standing between them and the council of the highest members of the clergy, wielding axes, hammers, sickles, or any object that could be used as a weapon.

Quickly, the crowd overpowered the guards and managed to enter the Sept of Baelor, interrupting the High Septon's vote.

After the initial chaos, the people began to threaten the council to elect one of their own, a Sparrow as High Septon, and they did not accept no as an answer. Due to the threats and the cowardice of the Council of the Most Devout, it didn't take long for them to finally crown a new High Septon.

This new High Septon was a septon who had always dedicated himself to traveling, helping hundreds of villages that needed the services of a septon but, due to their poverty or the size of the villages, could not have a permanent sept.

He refused to wear the silk and gold that the Targaryens had accustomed the previous High Septons to, arguing that it was at that very moment they were corrupted by greed and the desire for material objects, more than for spiritual salvation.

His first actions were to send the obsessed septons on the council to the penance cells, and he ordered the rest those wearing silk and jewels to be stripped so that these could be sold to help the poor of King's Landing, who depended on the charity of foreigners, who with bread convinced them to worship their false god.

Days passed, and more drastic measures were implemented, in which septons who had abused their power or who simply showed collaboration with the Prussians were judged and punished due to their severe transgressions.

Maximilian was doing charity work in the little free time he had managed to generate from his hard work managing the enormous wealth his lord had obtained from the sale of spices in both Westeros and Essos.

But when they arrived with their guards, he noticed that the number of people attending the charity work had dropped considerably. Even so, the diplomat took the opportunity to help the less fortunate, without realizing that the knight priests of the Teutonic Order had begun to get nervous upon noticing how many people were gathering in the area, carrying tools.

"Herr Maximilian, we must leave… It doesn't seem safe. There are too many people with something that could hurt you," said one of the Teutonic knights, while all the others put their hands on their hilts.

Maximilian observed how more and more people were blocking possible escape routes, and he began to fear the worst.

The other guards, whom Maximilian had received as a gift from his king during the previous festivities, began to adopt defensive positions to protect their lord.

"I think it's for the best… Let's all leave, leave everything behind. It's better to retreat to the fortress… It seems the people aren't in the mood to see us today," said the diplomat, very nervous about the situation.

The Prussians began to organize themselves, but before they could retreat to the safety of their fortress, a septon, dressed in a rather worn-out habit, caught everyone's attention.

"There they are, brothers and sisters, the personification of evil… The pagans who took our loved ones, the ones who destroyed our septs. Now we must purge this place. We cannot allow their profane presence to continue corrupting this place where the Sept of Baelor lies," shouted the septon to the crowd of furious people as the Prussians tried to escape.

"But why are they attacking us… We haven't done anything to them," said Maximilian, as the Teutons protected him from the objects being thrown at them.

When the group of Prussians tried to use one of the streets, the people prevented them from passing. But the Teutons didn't hesitate for a second, unsheathing their swords and pulling out their axes, and began to massacre the poorly armed crowd.

Severed bodies, arms, and legs cut off, entrails falling to the ground, followed by incredible cries of pain were heard from those who tried to block the path of the Prussian warrior elite.

Meanwhile, Maximilian's guards maintained a firm shield wall at the rear, holding back most of the crowd that sought to kill the Prussians.

"If we talk… we might still… be able to resolve it… God… God… God…" tried to say Maximilian, but when the blood of one of his guards covered him, he panicked. The Teutons had to carry him by force, as he was paralyzed with fear.

For several suffocating minutes, the group of Prussians moved through the streets, spilling the blood of both the fanatics of the Faith of the Seven and the Prussian guards who, when trapped by the crowd, were beaten to death.

Finally, the Prussians reached a point where the Prussian garrison from the bank could notice what was happening and left their defensive positions to help the banker in danger. Several hundred men attacked the crowd, finally dispersing them.

Afterward, the Prussians found a large number of bodies scattered everywhere. Before returning, they formed groups to search for the bodies of their fallen comrades, although with little luck. All the patrols in the city were called back to the fortress.

One patrol of fifty soldiers, who had been recruited in the city, hadn't returned.

Immediately, the fortress was sealed, and ravens were sent to their lord to inform him of what had happened.

"With the fall of Lys, it is expected that trade with the city's merchants will slow down somewhat, but contrary to what everyone anticipated, the city was neither sacked nor massacred. There were many deaths in the assault, but it is expected that things will return to normal soon. So, the drop in docking fees and taxes will be less severe this year," said the Master of Coin, updating the Hand of the King on what was happening across the sea.

"Well, we need not worry… Ah, I love being able to say that. But with the new revenues from Lord Hohenzollern's spice sales, we can afford some reductions in our income and still fill our coffers… Two years of bringing in more than Robert can spend," said Lord Arryn, clearly pleased.

"Indeed, my Lord Hand. The spice and jewelry market continues to grow. Now that prices are more affordable, more people can afford it, and that means many more taxes we can collect. We'll probably need to hire more tax collectors for the next year," said the Master of Coin with a self-satisfied smile.

"We should increase the royal navy fleet; we are settling for too few ships," said Lord Stannis, with his characteristic seriousness.

Lord Arryn was about to respond, but the entrance of his spymaster, with a petrified expression, captured the Small Council's full attention.

"My Lord, my Lord Hand, I'm afraid I bring terrible news," said Varys, his face full of concern.

"What happened, Varys?" asked Lord Arryn, worried.

"Do you remember what happened at the Sept of Baelor a few days ago? It seems it wasn't as harmless as we thought… The Faith has attacked the Prussians, more precisely Lord Maximilian. A mob tried to kill him, but he managed to get to safety in his fortress. However, other Prussian patrols weren't so lucky," said Varys, looking at all the members of the Council.

All the Council members showed shocked faces, except Stannis, who maintained his serious expression, and Pycelle, who seemed satisfied.

"Gods… That means…" said Lord Arryn, as he pondered all the repercussions.

"War," said Stannis in a dry voice.

"No, let's not rush. We can still talk to the Prussians and appease them with some gift or…" Lord Arryn tried to say, very nervous and stuttering slightly.

"But does that mean the crown prefers the Prussians, who profess another religion, over the faithful subjects of the Throne, whom the kings swore to protect?" said Pycelle, stroking his beard.

"We're not favoring them, but we can't break the key alliance against the Targaryens. We have…" Arryn tried to speak, but a man dressed in wolf pelts burst through a window of the Small Council, using a rope as a pulley to descend from the roof.

"I'm not here looking for a fight, Ser Barristan and Lord Stannis, but you'll have one if you seek it… Arryn!" said the man in wolf pelts to Barristan and Stannis, who stood up, drawing their swords.

Lord Arryn was paralyzed.

"So, this is how you repay our loyalty, eh? Killing our brothers in faith… You think that's funny, do you? ANSWER ME!" demanded the man in wolf pelts.

"We had nothing to do with what happened in the streets," said Lord Arryn, scared by the presence of the unexpected visitor.

"Well, then the death of one hundred and twenty men is something that happens every day… It just happened in the city you govern, you decrepit old man," said the man in Finnish wolf pelts, furiously.

"I know you're angry, but…" Arryn tried to say.

"No buts, Arryn. This action humiliated the king in Prussia. We want the heads of all those responsible by tomorrow at our fortress or consider this a formal declaration of war from the state of Prussia, as I'm sure MY KING, who is worthy, won't let this go," said the Finn, his voice filled with rage.

Without waiting for a response, the Finn jumped out the window, grabbing the rope, and swiftly descended to the lower area of the fortress, leaving everyone speechless.

"Ser Barristan, we need to reinforce the castle's guard. If they could enter like this, I fear the worst," said Varys, nervously.

"What do we do now… The Faith or the Prussians?" said a pale Master of Coin.

"I'm afraid we don't have much choice. The Faith… The Prussians seem to have already decided what they're going to do," said Lord Arryn, sitting back in his chair, showing a worried face.

''the kingdom will bleed rivers'' said stannis as he watched where our visitor fled.