Game of Thrones: Kinslayer

Smack! Smack! Smack!

Inside the council chamber, Grand Maester Noren had already slapped himself over a dozen times.

His face was swollen, and blood from the corner of his mouth dripped onto the chest of his grey robes, staining them a dark crimson.

"Enough."

Aemond finally spoke.

Grand Maester Noren stopped, panting heavily, his entire body trembling. Aemond looked at him, his gaze as cold as winter seawater.

"Grand Maester, do you know why I am punishing you?"

Noren kept his head lowered, not daring to speak.

"Because you forgot your station," Aemond said.

"You are the Grand Maester of the Small Council. Your duty is to assist the King and provide counsel for the Royal Family. It is not to stand aside and watch the Royal Family's misfortunes for your own amusement; it is not to gloat."

He paused, his voice turning several degrees colder.

"The theft of Targaryen dragons is a Targaryen shame. As a minister of the Crown, instead of thinking of how to recover the loss, you sat there laughing? What were you laughing at? At our misfortune?"

Grand Maester Noren collapsed onto one knee.

"Lord Regent, forgive me! I... I was foolish for a moment..."

"Foolish for a moment?" Aemond sneered.

"You are a man of the Citadel. You have read books since you were a child; you should understand reason and know when to tread carefully."

Noren's body shook even more violently. Aemond stared at him, and after a long silence, he spoke:

"Grand Maester, you were sent by the Citadel. The Citadel and our House Targaryen have always lived in harmony. I do not wish for some trivial matter to ruin that harmony. Do you understand?"

Noren nodded frantically. "I understand, I understand!"

"Good," Aemond commanded.

"Rise."

Grand Maester Noren struggled to his feet and stumbled back to his seat, his head bowed so low he didn't dare look up again.

The other ministers exchanged glances, each seeing a deep sense of wariness in the other's eyes.

The Prince Regent was breaking the Grand Maester's spirit today as a warning to them all.

Aemond, from his seat at the head of the table, swept his gaze over the assembly and spoke slowly: "Continue the business."

Tyland Lannister, the Hand, cleared his throat and spoke first.

"Lord Regent, there is news from the Riverlands."

"Speak."

"The new Lord of House Tully, Elmo, has issued a declaration of war," Tyland said.

"He intends to lead the Riverlands army south to break the siege of Maidenpool."

A low murmur of discussion rippled through the chamber.

Maidenpool was the city currently being besieged by the Royal Army led by Gwayne Hightower and Ser William Darklyn.

If the Riverlands truly marched south and coordinated with the defenders of Maidenpool, the Royal Army would be in peril.

"How many men?" Aemond asked.

"The Riverlands houses have mustered roughly eight thousand," Tyland said.

"Combined with the original garrison of Maidenpool, their numbers could exceed ten thousand."

"And Daemon?"

"Daemon..." Tyland paused.

Aemond's eyebrow twitched. He knew exactly what his uncle was doing. Daemon was undoubtedly worried about his two daughters, Baela and Rhaena.

The chamber fell silent. According to Aemond's previous expectations, Daemon should have seized the chance to ambush the Hightower host and assassinate Daeron.

But the Hightower host was already nearing Rook's Rest, and Daemon remained on Dragonstone.

It was now clear that the betrayal of the bastard Hugh in Tyrosh had left the Blacks paralyzed and hesitant.

Alicent looked at Aemond, hesitating to speak. She wanted to ask about Aegon, where her eldest son was, if his wounds had healed, and when he could return.

"Lord Regent," Lord Jasper, the Master of Laws, spoke up.

"Perhaps Daemon remains still because he is afraid. With Rhaenys dead, he is the only dragonrider the Blacks have left who can fight. How can he dare to face us alone?"

"Yes, yes," Erwyn, the Master of Ships, echoed. The others nodded in agreement.

Aemond ignored them, looking instead at Tyland Lannister.

"And the West? Where is the army of Lord Jason Lannister?"

Tyland's face stiffened. "Lord Jason... he..."

"What?"

Tyland sighed and spoke honestly.

"Lord Regent, my brother did not follow the orders to pass through Deep Den. He has led the army out from the Golden Tooth, intending to go straight to Harrenhal."

Aemond's eyes narrowed.

Tyland pushed on through his apprehension.

"As the Lord Paramount of his territory, he has the right to decide how his own army maneuvers."

Silence filled the hall. Everyone looked at Aemond to see how he would react. Aemond remained silent for a moment, then gave a soft, short laugh.

"Lord Jason... interesting."

'Does he still want to lead his men to 'feed the fish'? 'Aemond thought, then continued:

"If Lord Jason wishes to go through the Golden Tooth, let him. As a vassal of the Realm, he has fulfilled his duty to raise an army. Furthermore, he is the Lord Paramount of the West; I respect his decision."

Tyland lowered his head, not daring to speak further. Aemond swept his gaze over the silent group, finally resting his eyes on Alicent.

"Mother, did you have a reason for coming today?"

Alicent took a deep breath. "I wish to know the condition of His Majesty."

Aemond's expression softened slightly.

"His Majesty is well. His wounds are slowly recovering, and Sunfyre is also improving. In a little while, I will send men to bring him back."

"Where is he?"

Aemond shook his head. "Do not ask about such matters, Mother."

Alicent's eyes grew slightly red.

"I am his mother. Am I not even permitted to know where my son is?"

Aemond exhaled, stood up, walked to Alicent's side, leaned down, and lowered his voice.

"Trust me, Mother. The King is in a place I have arranged, and he is safe. I will certainly see him return to you."

Alicent looked at Aemond, seeing a rare trace of tenderness in his purple eye. She nodded and said no more.

Aemond returned to his seat; that trace of warmth vanished, replaced by his usual cold indifference.

"Is there anything else?"

Tyland spoke again. "Lord Regent, there is one more thing. There have been several 'illegal assemblies' appearing around King's Landing recently."

"Illegal assemblies..." Aemond knew of this well; he had men monitoring them constantly.

"Yes," Tyland nodded.

"Groups are gathering outside the city, imitating the 'Warrior's Sons' that were disbanded by the Crown long ago. They hold prayer meetings and sermons. Their numbers are not insignificant..."

Lord Jasper quickly added: "Lord Regent, these gatherings appear to be acts of devotion to the Seven on the surface, but in truth... they may have ulterior motives."

"What motives?" Aemond countered.

Jasper lowered his voice. "I fear someone is using these meetings to spread rumors and incite the people."

Aemond was silent for a moment, then looked at Grand Maester Noren.

"Grand Maester, are you aware of this?"

Noren raised his head, his swollen face full of dread.

"Lord Regent, I... I am not entirely sure..."

"Not sure?" Aemond sneered.

"You are the Grand Maester of the Council. Things are happening in King's Landing, and you are 'not sure'?"

Noren remained silent, not daring to say another word for fear of further offending the Regent.

It was obvious today that the Prince Regent had come specifically for him.

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