章節 17: Chapter 17: Escape
Author's note: Happy Thanksgiving everybody. Thank you everyone for your constructive comments and for all your support. I have based Roland's sword on the one used by Boromir. Once again I don't own anything yadda yadda yadda.
Arya
Swift as a deer
Quick as a snake.
Arya sprinted down the halls of the Red Keep heading for the Tower of the Hand. She tried not to think about Syrio. All that mattered right now was getting to her father. It had started out as a typical training lesson with her dancing master. That was when Ser Meryn Trant of the kingsgaurd walked in with several Lannister soldiers. Syrio manage to kill the Lannisters before Ser Meryn broke his wooden sword. Once that happened Arya knew Syrio had no chance now and fled.
Arya ran as fast as her legs could manage. Finally she reached a stairway, upstairs led to the bridge going to the Tower of the hand, downstairs led to the cellar, Realizing that climbing up towards the bridge was too risky, Arya rushed downstairs towards the cellar. The cellar was a dead end save for a small window on the far end. Arya rushed towards it and began climbing the wine barrels until she reached it. With effort, Arya squeezed through the window and into the light.
As Arya retrieved Needle, she saw a chubby stable boy holding a pitchfork approach her. "So there you are," he said with a sneer.
"Help me saddle a horse so I can get out," Arya pleaded. "My father is the hand of the king and he'll reward you."
The boy smiled mockingly, "your father is in in chains, but I will be rewarded alright, by the queen." He advanced upon her, pitchfork in hand.
"Stay away from me," Arya shouted, she raised needle in front of her.
"Come here," the boy said, grabbing her by her shirt.
Arya panicked. her lessons with Syrio vanished, "I said stay away," she shrieked. At that moment Jon's lesson echoed in her mind.
She thrust Needle as hard as she could into the boy's chest. The blade went between his ribs and out the other side. The boy gasped and dropped the pitchfork as the sword pierced through his heart. He looked at Arya and crumpled to the ground, his eyes widened with the shock of dying. "Take it out," he begged as he died.
Arya slowly removed needle from the dead boy's body. She wiped Needle on the boy's shirt and sheathed it.
"HEY YOU," a voice shouted behind her. Arya turned and saw a two Lannister soldiers quickly approaching. She drew needle once again, her eyes wide with fear.
A loud crash caught everyone's attention. Arya turned and saw a huge black form charge in and bowl over the two men. Arya looked and saw the towering form of Roland's horse his eyes burning with rage. Before the Lannisters had a chance to get back up, Bane reared up and brought his hooves down on them. The men's screams lasted a second before the hooves crushed their skulls in. Bane continued to pound on the bodies until they stopped twitching.
Bane then turned towards Arya. Arya instinctively backed herself into the wall shaking with fear. Bane slowly approached her, soon he was so close that Arya cound feel his hot breath on her face. She looked into Bane's eyes and saw they have softened. Bane gave out a snort and got down on its front knees. Arya stood there in shock before realizing that Bane was offering himself as a mount. Arya climbed up on the horse and wrapped her arms aropund his neck. "Let's go" she whispered in his ear. At once Bane leaped up and broke into a full gallop.
Bane reached the gates just as they were going to be closed. He knocked over the men closing it and pushed the gate open. Bane seemed to know the city well enough. He galloped down the various streets and buildings without having to completely slow down. As Bane past Rhaenys' Hill, Arya noticed that Bane wasn't heading for the Gate of the Gods, but rather the Old Gate. As they reached it, Arya saw members of the city watch moving to stop them. Bane reared up and killed off one of them. Another charged in, Arya drew needle and drove it into the man's neck. Two more came in from behind only to recieve a kick from Bane's hind legs. Bane then charged through the open gate dodging the arrows that were being fired. Arya breathed a sigh of relief. She decided to keep riding north until she reached the Trident river then follow it to Riverrun.
Cersei
A loud knock on Cersei's door caused her to wake with a start. Cersei sat up and saw her handmaiden standing on the was breathing heavily and her face was pale as milk.
"What is it," Cersei demanded, not even trying to hide her irritation.
"Y-your grace," the handmaiden stammered. Her mouth opened and closed. like she was trying to say it but the words refused to come out. Cersei began to realized that something was wrong.
"OUT WITH IT WOMAN," Cersei practically shouted. "WHAT IS IT."
"I-I-it's in Roland chambers your grace." The Handmaiden manage to get out.
Cersei leaped out of bed, fear dominated her eyes. At that moment Eddard Stark's words echoed in her mind. Before the handmaiden could speak further, Cersei pushed her out of the way and rushed towards Roland's room. She ignored the fact that she was still in her bedclothes. When she finally arrived, Cersai saw blood slowly pouring out from under the door. Cersei put her shaking hands on the door and pushed it open.
What she saw nearly stopped her heart. There was blood everywhere. The bed looked like a bear had attacked it, the bookshelves desk and chairs were smashed. Books were scattered all over the floor, some of them even had cuts or holes in them. Looking around frantically, Cersei realized that Roland wasn't here.
It was then did she noticed the bodies one was lying on the floor face down and the other was in the upright position. Two men were clearly kingsguard, Cersei stepped in ignoring the blood now staining her feet and turned the lying body over. Despite the sword wound that nearly cut his face in two, Cersei recognized him as Ser Boros Blount. Cersei sighed in relief.
Suddenly she heard a moan. Cersei turned around and saw the upright body was still alive. She slowly made her way toward him and lifted his head. It was Ser Meryn Trant. Ser Meryn looked at Cersei and his eyed widened surprise. "Get the Maester," he pleaded.
Cersei's eyes turned to ice. "What happened?" She demended, her voice dripping with venom. "Why are you in my son's room?"
Ser Meryn remained silent. Cersei's eyes narrowed and she pressed her thumb into Ser Meryn's empty eye socket. Causing him to scream in pain. "Why," she asked again releasing her thumb."
Ser Meryn gasped and finally spoke. "We...were...ordered...to...kill... Prince Roland". Ser Meryn panted. "But I got him, I stuck him in his shoulder."
"Who gave you the order," Cersei asked. Her voice was shaking dreading the answer.
"King...Joffrey," Ser Meryn gasped.
Cersei let go of him and stood up not knowing how to take in what she had just heard. Shock slowly crept into her as she covered her mouth in horror. Part of her continued to deny it a small voice in her head told her it was true. She squeezed her eyes shut fighting back the trears ready to flow out. That's when her eye caught Ser Boros' dagger. Her watery eyes turned icy cold. Cersei slowly got up and walked over to the bloody blade. She bent over, picked it up not caring about the blood now on her hand. She turned around and slowly walked towards Ser Meryn.
"Help me," He begged.
Cersei knelt down to his eye level. Her cold gaze giving the knight discomfort. "No," She whispered coldly.
"Your grace?" Ser Meryn asked completely confused.
Cersei continued with pure venom in her voice. "If this is all the pain you're feeling it is not nearly enough. You are getting exactly what you deserve."
"Y-Y-your g-grace," Meryn stammered. He struggled to get away but every move he made only caused unbearable pain. "I was only doing what the king commanded. We are suppose to serve our king."
"Yes," Cersei agreed, "of course you do." She grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close to her. "But in doing so , you made a grave mistake Ser Meryn."
Cersei placed the tip of the dagger on Serr Meryn's adam's apple.
"Nobody...Harms...My...Children."
She gave out a cry and plunged the dagger into Ser Meryn's throat. His eyes widened in terror. Cersei pulled the blade out causing his blood to flow freely out of his neck and onto the floor. She watched as Ser Meryn choked on his own blood before passing on.
Cersei back away and dropped the dagger, shocked by what she had just done. She then slumped against the bed. "Oh Roland," she cried , "my poor sweet boy." She buried her head in her hands and sobbed.
Sansa
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Roland asked. "You may not like what you see."
Sansa nodded. "You are to be my husband soon. As your wife it will be my duty to tend your wounds whenever you recieve them. I might as well start now."
"As you wish my love," Roland finally relented. Roland turned around and began unlacing his leather vest. Given that he only had one good arm, it was harder than it would of been. After the vest was off Roland took off the shirt underneath.
Sansa blushed furiously at the sight of Roland bare chested and turned away to hide it. Despite herself her eyes were screaming at her to look back. Eventually she gave in and looked over to where Roland was standing. Broad shouldered and barrel chested with a slim waist and flat stomach. Every inch of Roland seemed to be made of lean hard muscle. Numerous scars and bruises covered his torso. Some marks, Sansa could tell were fresh.
Little did Sansa know was Roland was equally shy about the situation. He had never been shirtless in front of a girl before. The only ones who have seen him were his mother while watching him dress, handmaidens that walk in on him by mistake, and regrettably Pycelle whenever he tended Roland's wounds after training. 'I hope he at least cleans himself first,' Roland often thought to himself.
Roland removed the sling and turned around to face her. That's when Sansa saw the gash on his left shoulder. "Oh gods," Sansa exclaimed horrified, "your poor shoulder." She stepped towards him and placed her hand gently on the wound.
"It could be worse," Roland reassured her. "Could of been my heart."
Sansa took some wine, a candle, a needle and thread and a dagger and sat down facing Roland. She used the candle to heat up one side of the dagger while Roland put a piece of cloth in his mouth to ready himself. As the blade heated up Sansa soaked a cloth in wine and used it to clean the area around. Roland took the wine bottle and poured some over the wound itself. Once the blade was red, Sansa took it and after a nod from Roland pressed it against the wound. Roland let out a muffled growl as the blade cauterized the injury. Once that was done, Sansa wiped the area again and put the needle and thread in the wine as well. Roland removed the cloth from his mouth as Sansa started carefully sewing up the gash.
"Doesn't it hurt?" Sansa wondered.
"Compared to the blade, this is nothing." Roland said with a smile.
"Will you be able to use your arm again." Sansa asked with a look of worry.
Roland shrugged, "I should take it easy for the next few days. It should work good as new by then."
Sansa finally finished and straightened up as the two admired her handywork.
"You did well love," Roland complimented. "It should do for now until we reach Dragonstone."
Sansa smiled and kissed the sewed up wound. The stitches were aligned perfectly just like her needlework. Unaware, her fingers had begun running down Roland's chest and she began to absent mindedly caress Roland's bare upper body. Some fingers ran down some of the scars on his body. By the alignment of some of them. Sansa could only guess that they were claw marks. Roland's muscled form was firm and solid, not a soft spot to be found. As Sansa's fingers reached the lowest rib Roland jerked slightly.
"Did I hurt you?" Sansa exclaimed coming out of her trance.
Roland gave her a grin and shook his head. "No it just tickled a little."
"I-I-I'm sorry," Sansa said hurriedly. "I should not of been doing that."
"No you're quite alright." Roland reassured her. In truth, Roland found her touch very soothing. He almost forgot he had an injury. So he was slightly disappointed when she stopped. Roland turned and began putting the sling back in place.
"I don't regret it," Sansa said looking into his eyes.
"I don't either," Roland replied meeting her gaze.
Roland then leaned forward and pressed her lips to hers. Sansa melted as he buried his hand in her hair. In response Sansa ran her hands down Roland's chest. Once more tracing the scars and the lining of his muscles.
The moment lasted a minute or so until a knock came at the door. Roland and Sansa immediately broke apart. Roland quickly put a shirt on reattached the sling and bid the knocker to enter.
Eddard
Ned Stark entered the room. He gave a small smile upon seeing Sansa and Roland together. He then turned towards the prince.
"Apologies my prince, but I was wondering if I could have a word in private."
Roland nodded, "I intended on the same thing." He gave Sansa a nod and she left the room But not before giving him a last glance and giving him a dazzling smile.
Roland offered him the now empty seat and Ned took it gratefully.
"I suppose you have questions for me ." Ned told him. Even though Ned had questions of his own, He felt that Roland needed answers more than he did.
Roland nodded. His smiling face had changed into one of utmost seriousness. "Ser Barristan told me that the day you were arrested, you declared me the rightful king of Westeros."
"I did," Ned admitted. "A foolish move on my part."
"May I ask why." Roland wondered. Ned could detect a trace of aggravation in his voice.
It was the question Ned had been dreading or days. But now that the time had come and he was no longer sure the words could come out of his mouth. Ned now wondered how he could tell this boy that his life was a lie.
"Ned," Roland spoke up, "what's wrong. You know something, something you are afraid to tell me." He leaned forward closer to Ned. His eyes had grown intense. Roland was silently screaming for an answer. Ned could bear it no longer and finally decided to let the truth out.
"Joffrey is not your brother Roland," Ned began slowly.
Roland intense gaze turned to one of bewilderment. "What are you talking about. Of course he is."
Ned shook his head. "What I mean is, you share the same mother, just not the same father."
Ned watched as Roland's eyes widened in shock as Ned paused for a moment, allowing his words to sink in. Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen are not the Robert's children
Then to Ned shock, Roland tilted his head back and his expression became calm as if he figured out something. He slumped deeper into his chair as he put the pieces together.
"Their father is Jaime." Roland said after a moment. His voice was calm and completely void of emotion.
Now it was Ned's turn to widen his eyes in shock. His mouth dropped as Roland said what he himself was afraid to say. What was disturbing was that he said it like it was a simple fact.
"You-you knew?" Ned asked incredulously.
Roland shrugged and turned his head to the window. "I had suspicions about certain things, but I never bothered to find confirmation until you did. I'm not blind as my father was."
"Then why didn't you say anything?" Ned wondered.
Roland turned toward Ned and gave him a look. One that said, 'do you really have to ask me that.' That was when Ned understood. Like himself, Roland had no idea how his father would react. Telling his father would of meant destroying the lives of those that he loved. His mother and younger siblings. "If you have to ask that question Lord Stark, you don't deserve the answer."
"Of course," Ned nodded, it had been a foolish question to ask. But now he wondered. "So how long have you known about your mother's relationship with Jaime."
"Since I was six," Roland replied. "I was heading to mother's room for some reason I can't remember. I heard noises so I looked through the keyhole and saw them in bed together. I didn't interrupt them so I went back to my room. Over the years I happen to see the looks my mother and Jaime would share."
"How did you feel about it?" Ned asked.
Roland sighed. "At first I was angry that my mother could be disloyal. But as I got older, I found that my father was no better. Visiting brothels, groping servants. I finally understood why my mother did it. She wanted love but got scorn instead. Make no mistake Lord Stark, I loved my father but he was a horrible husband."
Ned sighed, and continued the rest of the story. "Your Uncle Stannis discovered the truth and told Jon Arryn. Together they were building a case against your mother until-.
"-until Jon Arryn was murdered for what he knew." Roland finished for him. "So Stannis returned to Dragonstone to protect his family."
Ned nodded and put his head down. "So now you know the truth."
Roland returned the nod. "One more question Lord Stark."
Ned looked up and agreed. "What is it Roland?"
Roland's eyes narrowed, anger evident on his handsome face. "Why did your wife arrest Uncle Tyrion."
Ned was surprised, this was the last question he had expected. From Ned saw this truly upset Roland.
"We suspected either your mother of Jaime of pushing Bran from the tower. A few days later, an assassin tried to kill him with a dagger. In the struggle, Catelyn's hands were cut. If it hadn't been for Bran's wolf Summer, the assassin might of done worse."
Roland sighed heavily and began rubbing his temples. "Were my mother and uncle responsible?" He asked, though he clearly feared the answer.
"Jaime did push Bran but he acted on his own. I deem your mother innocent of that."
Roland sighed with relief before straightening up. "But what does this have to do with Tyrion?"
"Catelyn and I went to Littlefinger to see if he knew anything."
"I told you not to trust that witless worm." Roland said in exasperation. "Make no mistake Lord Stark, when we meet again. Your wife and I will have words."
"I will not stand in your way," Ned replied. It seemed that while Roland deeply cared for his dwarf uncle and would likely defend him through thick and thin.
"So what did Littlefinger tell you," Roland asked.
"He said the dagger belonged to him but he lost it in a bet."
"Why would he say that?"
"The dagger was of rich quality. The blade was valyrian steel and the hilt was dragonbone. It made sense that the Master of Coin would possess such a weapon. He told us that he lost it to Tyrion."
"Valyrian steel with a dragonbone hilt. Roland repeated. His eyes widened in shock. He began rubbing his chin in thought. Roland got up and grabbed a quill and ink. He began drawing on a piece of paper as Ned watched him in wonder. Roland turned around and handed him the paper. "Did it look like that."
Ned studied the drawing for a moment, It was crude but the overall design was accurate enough "Yes, why?"
Roland took back the drawing and fell back into the chair. "This was Littlefinger's dagger." He admitted.
Ned looked up at him. "So he was telling the truth?"
Roland shook his head. "Only a half truth. He did own this dagger and he did lose it to a bet. But he didn't lose it to Tyrion. He lost the dagger to my father."
Ned's mouth dropped. "How did this happen?" he asked.
Roland gave a small smile. "I remember the day well. It was during the tourney of Joffrey's 12th nameday. My father and Littlefinger were betting on a certain match. Ser Jaime Lannister and Ser Loras Tyrell. My father bets on Ser Loras, while Littlefinger bets on Jaime. The knight of the flowers unhorsed my uncle so Littlefinger lost. Father thought he had lost it and was upset when he couldn't find it."
"If it wasn't Tyrion, then who was it?"
Roland sighed and buried his face in his hands before looking up at Ned. "There is only one person who could of obtained that Dagger and used it in such a sloppy manner."
每周推薦票狀態
-- 推薦票
榜單 
-- 推薦票