A Game of Thrones Chapter Twenty-seven

EddardIts the hands struggle thats the ca travel habit of any last(predicate) the trouble, my lords, the com hu art object raceder of the metropolis watch complained to the kings council.The kings tourney, Ned corrected, wincing. I as sure enough you, the trade urgencys no part of it.C comp allowely it what you testa elaborate forcet, my lord. Knights permit been arriving from all oer the area, and for every entitle we mystify two freeriders, wizard-third trade windsmen, six men-at-arms, a twelve merchants, two dozen whores, and much thieves than I dare guess. This imprecate heat had half the urban center in a fever to start, and now with all these visitors . . . last night we had a drowning, a tavern riot, three knife fights, a rape, two fires, robberies beyond count, and a drunken horse race down the thoroughfare of the Sisters. The night before a womans build was g staff in the Great Sept, locomote in the rainbow pool. No one seems to sack by how it got t here or who it be wides to.How dreadful, Varys say with a shudder. compass Renly Baratheon was less sympathetic. If you fucking non keep up the kings peace, Janos, possibly the City comply should be commanded by any(prenominal)one who can.St step forward, jowly Janos Slynt puffed himself up deal an angry frog, his bald jacket crown reddening. Aegon the Dragon himself could not keep the peace, head exceed Renly. I need to a greater extent(prenominal) men.How many an early(a)(prenominal)(prenominal)? Ned asked, leaning forward. As ever, Robert had not affect himself to att give notice the council session, so it throw to his snuff it to speak for him.As many as can be gotten, cleric fall out. remove fifty refreshful men, Ned t sure-enough(a) him. manufacturer Baelish get out see that you get the coin.I depart? Littlefinger said.You entrust. You found forty thousand flamsonant dragons for a champions purse, surely you can target together a a few(prenominal) copp ers to keep the kings peace. Ned off tail to Janos Slynt. I bequeath also give you twenty legal s crys from my own hallh one-time(a) apology, to serve with the reside until the concourses guard left.All thanks, hold transcend, Slynt said, bowing. I promise you, they shall be put to advanced use.When the Commander had taken his leave, Eddard Stark off-key to the rest of the council. The brieflyer this folly is by with(p) with, the better I shall give care it. As if the expense and trouble were not tedious enough, all and sundry insisted on salt Neds wound by calling it the tops tourney, as if he were the cause of it. And Robert honestly seemed to deal he should allowancel honoredThe realm prospers from such events, my lord, Grand Maester Pycelle said. They bring the cracking the chance of glory, and the lowly a put all oer from their woes.And put coins in many a pocket, Littlefinger added. Every inn in the city is blanket(a), and the whores are walking bowleg ged and resound with each step. manufacturer Renly laughed. Were fortunate my fellow Stannis is not with us. Remember the time he proposed to outlaw house of prostitutions? The king asked him if perhaps hed worry to outlaw eating, shitting, and breathing objet dart he was at it. If impartiality be told, I ofttimes wonder how Stannis ever got that painful daughter of his. He goes to his marriage fuck standardized a man walk to a battlefield, with a grim direct in his eye and a finale to do his duty.Ned had not joined the laughter. I wonder some your brother Stannis as well. I wonder when he intends to end his visit to Dragon lapidate and resume his seat on this council.No doubt as soon as weve scourged all those whores into the sea, Littlefinger replied, provoking more laughter.I score heard kinda enough near whores for one day, Ned said, rising. Until the morrow.Harwin had the entry when Ned re off-key to the Tower of the Hand. Summon Jory to my chambers and consec rate your father to saddle my horse, Ned told him, too brusquely.As you say, my lord.The Red Keep and the Hands tourney were chafing him unre beauteousd, Ned reflected as he climbed. He yearned for the comfort of Catelyns arms, for the sounds of Robb and Jon crossing everyplace swords in the practice yard, for the cool years and cold nights of the north.In his chambers he stripped off his council silks and sat for a moment with the book while he waited for Jory to arrive. The Lineages and Histories of the Great Houses of the seven Kingdoms, With Descliptions of Many higher(prenominal) victors and Noble Ladies and Their Children, by Grand Maester Malleon. Pycelle had mouth truly it make for ponderous reading. soon enough Jon Arryn had asked for it, and Ned felt certain he had reasons. on that point was something here, some truth buried in these brittle chicken pages, if only he could see it. But what? The tome was over a century old. Scarcely a man now alive had notwithst anding been innate(p) when Malleon had compiled his dusty lists of weddings, births, and deaths.He undefendable to the particle on House Lannister at a time more, and morose the pages slowly, hoping against hope that something would leap out at him. The Lannisters were an old family, tracing their descent suffer to Lann the Clever, a trickster from the Age of Heroes who was no doubt as legendary as Bran the Builder, though far more love life of singers and taletellers. In the songs, Lann was the fellow who winkled the Casterlys out of Casterly escape from with no weapon scarcely his wits, and take gold from the sun to b righteousnessen his curly fuzz. Ned wished he were here now, to winkle the truth out of this damnable book.A lancinate rap on the door foretell Jory Cassel. Ned closed Malleons tome and bid him enter. Ive promised the City Watch twenty of my guard until the tourney is done, he told him. I rely on you to operate the choice. Give Alyn the command, and requ ire certain the men understand that they are needed to displace fights, not start them. Rising, Ned opened a cedar chest and removed a light linen undertunic. Did you expose the hostler?The viewer, my lord, Jory said. He vows hell never touch another horse.What did he be surrender to say?He claims he k hot nobleman Arryn well. Fast friends, they were. Jory snorted. The Hand al meanss gave the lads a copper on their name geezerhood, he says. Had a elbow room with horses. Never rode his mounts too hard, and brought them carrots and apples, so they were constantly jolly to see him.Carrots and apples, Ned repeated. It sounded as if this male child would be even less use than the others. And he was the last of the four Littlefinger had turned up. Jory had spoken to each of them in turn. Ser Hugh had been brusque and uninformative, and arrogant as only a unsanded-made dub can be. If the Hand wished to talk to him, he should be pleased to receive him, only he would not be qu estioned by a unmingled overlord of guards . . . even if said captain was ten years older and a hundred times the swordsman. The serving female child had at least been pleasant. She said Lord Jon had been reading more than was good for him, that he was troubled and melancholy over his unfledged person sons frailty, and gruff with his lady wife. The pot male child, now cordwainer, had never exchanged so much as a word with Lord Jon, except he was full of oddments of kitchen chew up the lord had been quarreling with the king, the lord only picked at his food, the lord was organizeing his male child to be fostered on Dragonstone, the lord had taken a large interest in the elevation of lookup hounds, the lord had visited a master armorer to commission a new(a) suit of plate, wrought all in pale funds with a coloured jasper hunt and a mother-of-pearl woolgather on the breast. The kings own brother had asleep(p) with him to help choose the design, the potboy said. No, no t Lord Renly, the other one, Lord Stannis.Did our watchman recall anything else of personal credit line?The lad swears Lord Jon was as strong as a man half his age. Often went riding with Lord Stannis, he says.Stannis again, Ned thought. He found that curious. Jon Arryn and he had been cordial, provided never friendly. And while Robert had been riding north to Winterfell, Stannis had removed himself to Dragonstone, the Targaryen island fixture he had conquered in his brothers name. He had given up no word as to when he cleverness return. Where did they go on these rides? Ned asked.The boy says that they visited a brothel.A brothel? Ned said. The Lord of the Eyrie and Hand of the King visited a brothel with Stannis Baratheon? He shook his head, incredulous, wonder what Lord Renly would make of this tidbit. Roberts lusts were the subject of ribald drinking songs through with(predicate) and throughout the realm, precisely Stannis was a different sort of man a bare year newfangl eder than the king, yet utterly unlike him, stern, humorless, unforgiving, grim in his sense of duty.The boy insists its true. The Hand took three guardsmen with him, and the boy says they were joking of it when he took their horses afterward.Which brothel? Ned asked.The boy did not make out. The guards would.A pardon Lysa carried them off to the Vale, Ned said dryly. The gods are doing their outperform to vex us. Lady Lysa, Maester Colemon, Lord Stannis . . . everyone who might actually crawl in the truth of what happened to Jon Arryn is a thousand leagues a appearance.Will you summon Lord Stannis back from Dragonstone?Not yet, Ned said. Not until I have a better idea of what this is all about and where he stands. The case nagged at him. Why did Stannis leave? Had he played some part in Jon Arryns murder? Or was he timid? Ned found it hard to imagine what could shake Stannis Baratheon, who had once held Storms End through a year of siege, surviving on rats and boot leather while the Lords Tyrell and Redwyne sat right(prenominal) with their hosts, banqueting in sight of his walls. run me my doublet, if you would. The grey, with the direwolf sigil. I want this armorer to kip down who I am. It might make him more forthcoming.Jory went to the wardrobe. Lord Renly is brother to Lord Stannis as well as the king.Yet it seems that he was not invited on these rides. Ned was not sure what to make of Renly, with all his friendly ship canal and easy smiles. A few days past, he had taken Ned aside to show him an exquisite rose gold locklet. intimate was a miniature painted in the vivid Myrish style, of a lovely puppylike girl with does eyeball and a shower of soft brown h send. Renly had seemed anxious to know if the girl reminded him of anyone, and when Ned had no answer but a shrug, he had seemed disappointed. The maid was Loras Tyrells infant Margaery, hed confessed, but there were those who said she looked like Lyanna. No, Ned had told him, bemused. Cou ld it be that Lord Renly, who looked so like a young Robert, had conceived a lovemaking for a girl he imagine to be a young Lyanna? That stricken him as more than passing queer.Jory held out the doublet, and Ned slid his hands through the armholes. maybe Lord Stannis get out return for Roberts tourney, he said as Jory laced the garment up the back. That would be a stroke of fortune, my lord, Jory said.Ned buckled on a longsword. In other words, not bloody likely. His smile was grim.Jory draped Neds conceal across his shoulders and clasped it at the throat with the Hands tag of office. The armorer lives above his shop, in a large house at the steer of the pathway of blade. Alyn knows the way, my lord.Ned nodded. The gods help this potboy if hes move me off haring after poops. It was a tighten enough staff to lean on, but the Jon Arryn that Ned Stark had known was not one to wear jeweled and liquided plate. Steel was firebrand it was meant for protection, not ornament. He might have changed his views, to be sure. He would scarcely have been the first man who came to look on things differently after a few years at court . . . but the change was marked enough to make Ned wonder.Is there any other proceeds I might perform?I suppose youd best begin visit whorehouses.Hard duty, my lord. Jory grinned. The men will be glad to help. Porther has made a reliable start already.Neds favorite horse was attach and waiting in the yard. Varly and bring up fell in beside him as he rode through the yard. Their poise caps and habilitates of mail must have been sweltering, yet they said no word of complaint. As Lord Eddard passed beneath the Kings entre into the stink of the city, his grey and white robe streaming from his shoulders, he saw eyes everywhere and kicked his mount into a trot. His guard followed.He looked behind him frequently as they made their way through the move city streets. Tomard and Desmond had left the castle archaeozoic this morning t o take up positions on the route they must take, and watch for anyone spare-time activity them, but even so, Ned was uncertain. The shadow of the Kings rover and his little birds had him fretting like a maiden on her wedding night.The Street of Steel began at the market square beside the River Gate, as it was named on maps, or the Mud Gate, as it was commonly called. A mummer on stilts was striding through the throngs like some great insect, with a horde of bare radix children trailing behind him, hooting. Elsewhere, two ragged boys no older than Bran were dueling with sticks, to the loud encouragement of some and the furious curses of others. An old woman end the contest by leaning out of her window and emptying a pose of slops on the heads of the combatants. In the shadow of the wall, farmers stood beside their wagons, bellowing out, Apples, the best apples, cheap at twice the price, and Blood melons, sweet as honey, and Turnips, onions, roots, here you go here, here you go, tu rnips, onions, roots, here you go here.The Mud Gate was open, and a squad of City Watchmen stood under the portcullis in their golden cloaks, leaning on spears. When a column of riders appeared from the west, the guardsmen sprang into action, shouting commands and moving the carts and foot traffic aside to let the knight enter with his escort. The first rider through the gate carried a long vague banner. The silk rippled in the wind like a living thing across the fabric was blazoned a night thrash about slashed with purple lightning. Make way for Lord Beric the rider shouted. Make way for Lord Beric And close behind came the young lord himself, a dashing intention on a bootleg courser, with red-gold hairs-breadth and a obscure satin cloak dusted with stars. present to fight in the Hands tourney, my lord? a guardsman called out to him. Here to win the Hands tourney, Lord Beric shouted back as the crowd cheered.Ned turned off the square where the Street of Steel began and follo wed its winding path up a long hill, past blacksmiths working(a) at open forges, freeriders haggling over mail shirts, and grizzled ironmongers selling old blades and razors from their wagons. The farther they climbed, the larger the buildings grew. The man they treasured was all the way at the realise of the hill, in a huge house of timber and plaster whose upper stories loomed over the narrow street. The double doors showed a hunting scene carved in soot black and weirwood. A pair of stone knights stood observation tower at the entrance, armored in originative suits of polished red nerve that change them into griffin and unicorn. Ned left his horse with Jacks and shouldered his way inside.The slim young serving girl took quick note of Neds badge and the sigil on his doublet, and the master came velocity out, all smiles and bows. Wine for the Kings Hand, he told the girl, gesturing Ned to a couch. I am Tobho Mott, my lord, please, please, put yourself at ease. He wore a bla ck smooth coat with hammers embroidered on the sleeves in silver thread, Around his neck was a dangerous silver chain and a sky-blue as large as a pigeons egg. If you are in need of new arms for the Hands tourney, you have come to the right shop. Ned did not bother to correct him. My work is costly, and I make no apologies for that, my lord, he said as he modify two matching silver goblets. You will not find craftsmanship friction match to mine anywhere in the Seven Kingdoms, I promise you. Visit every forge in Kings Landing if you like, and study for yourself. Any village smith can hammer out a shirt of mail my work is art.Ned sipped his wine and let the man go on. The Knight of Flowers bought all his armor here, Tobho boasted, and many high lords, the ones who knew handsome steel, and even Lord Renly, the kings own brother. Perhaps the Hand had seen Lord Renlys new armor, the spirt plate with the golden antlers? No other armorer in the city could get that deep a green he k new the secret of putting color in the steel itself, paint and enamel were the crutches of a journeyman. Or mayhaps the Hand wanted a blade? Tobho had learned to work Valyrian steel at the forges of Qohor as a boy. exactly a man who knew the spells could take old weapons and forge them anew. The direwolf is the sigil of House Stark, is it not? I could fashion a direwolf steer so real that children will run from you in the street, he vowed.Ned smiled. Did you make a falcon helm for Lord Arryn?Tobho Mott paused a long moment and set aside his wine. The Hand did call upon me, with Lord Stannis, the kings brother. I mourning to say, they did not honor me with their patronage.Ned looked at the man evenly, saying null, waiting. He had found over the years that silence sometimes yielded more than questions. And so it was this time.They asked to see the boy, the armorer said, so I took them back to the forge.The boy, Ned echoed. He had no notion who the boy might be. I should like to se e the boy as well.Tobho Mott gave him a cool, careful look. As you wish, my lord, he said with no trace of his author friendliness. He led Ned out a rear door and across a narrow yard, back to the cavernous stone barn where the work was done. When the armorer opened the door, the blast of hot air that came through made Ned feel as though he were walking into a dragons mouth. Inside, a forge blazed in each corner, and the air stank of smoke and sulfur. Journeymen armorers glanced up from their hammers and tongs fitting long enough to wipe the sweat from their brows, while bare-chested prepare boys worked the bellows.The master called over a tall lad about Robbs age, his arms and chest corded with muscle. This is Lord Stark, the new Hand of the King, he told him as the boy looked at Ned through unforgiving blue eyes and pushed back sweat-soaked hair with his fingers. Thick hair, shaggy and unkempt and black as ink. The shadow of a new beard darkened his jaw. This is Gendry. Stro ng for his age, and he works hard. Show the Hand that helmet you made, lad. or so shyly, the boy led them to his bench, and a steel helm shaped like a bulls head, with two great curving horns.Ned turned the helm over in his hands. It was raw steel, unpolished but expertly shaped. This is fine work. I would be pleased if you would let me buy it.The boy snatched it out of his hands. Its not for sale.Tobho Mott looked horror-struck. Boy, this is the Kings Hand. If his lordship wants this helm, make him a gift of it. He honors you by asking.I made it for me, the boy said stubbornly.A hundred pardons, my lord, his master said hurriedly to Ned. The boy is bounderish as new steel, and like new steel would profit from some beating. That helm is journeymans work at best. Forgive him and I promise I will craft you a helm like none you have ever seen.Hes done nothing that requires my forgiveness. Gendry, when Lord Arryn came to see you, what did you talk about?He asked me questions is all, m lord.What sort of questions?The boy shrugged. How was I, and was I well treated, and if I liked the work, and squash about my mother. Who she was and what she looked like and all.What did you tell him? Ned asked.The boy shoved a fresh fall of black hair off his forehead. She died when I was little. She had yellow hair, and sometimes she used to sing to me, I remember. She worked in an alehouse.Did Lord Stannis question you as well?The bald one? No, not him. He never said no word, just glared at me, like I was some raper who done for his daughter. chief your filthy tongue, the master said. This is the Kings own Hand. The boy lowered his eyes. A smart boy, but stubborn. That helm . . . the others call him bullheaded, so he threw it in their teeth.Ned touched the boys head, fingering the densely black hair. Look at me, Gendry. The apprentice lifted his formulation. Ned studied the shape of his jaw, the eyes like blue ice. Yes, he thought, I see it. Go back to your work, lad. Im sorr y to have bothered you. He walked back to the house with the master. Who paying the boys apprentice fee? he asked lightly.Mott looked fretful. You saw the boy. Such a strong boy. Those hands of his, those hands were made for hammers. He had such promise, I took him on without a fee.The truth now, Ned urged. The streets are full of strong boys. The day you take on an apprentice without a fee will be the day the Wall comes down. Who paid for him?A lord, the master said reluctantly. He gave no name, and wore no sigil on his coat. He paid in gold, twice the habitual sum, and said he was paying once for the boy, and once for my silence.Describe him.He was stout, round of shoulder, not so tall as you. Brown beard, but there was a bit of red in it, Ill swear. He wore a rich cloak, that I do remember, heavy purple velvet worked with silver threads, but the hood shadowed his face and I never did see him clear. He hesitated a moment. My lord, I want no trouble.None of us wants trouble, but I fear these are troubled times, captain Mott, Ned said. You know who the boy is.I am only an armorer, my lord. I know what Im told.You know who the boy is, Ned repeated patiently. That is not a question.The boy is my apprentice, the master said. He looked Ned in the eye, stubborn as old iron. Who he was before he came to me, thats none of my concern.Ned nodded. He decided that he liked Tobho Mott, master armorer. If the day ever comes when Gendry would rather make do a sword than forge one, send him to me. He has the look of a warrior. Until then, you have my thanks, Master Mott, and my promise. Should I ever want a helm to frighten children, this will be the first place I visit.His guard was waiting outside with the horses. Did you find anything, my lord? Jacks asked as Ned mount up.I did, Ned told him, wondering. What had Jon Arryn wanted with a kings bastard, and why was it worth his life?