Chapter 144: The Blacksmith's Apprentice
The Street of Steel was never truly silent.
Even before sunrise, distant hammers rang against anvils, furnaces breathed through narrow chimneys, and apprentices carried coal through streets still covered in darkness.
Inside Tobho Mott's forge, Gendry slept upon a thin mattress in a small room behind the workshop.
His hands were blackened from the previous day's labour. A half-finished bull-shaped helmet rested upon the table beside him, its curved metal horns waiting to be sharpened.
A soft knock came from the front of the forge.
Gendry did not hear it.
Tobho Mott did.
The master armourer opened his eyes and stared into the darkness.
The knock came again.
Three strikes.
A pause.
Then two more.
No customer came to purchase armour at such an hour.
Mott left his bed, pulled a robe over his broad body and took a short sword from beneath a chest. He descended the stairs without lighting a lamp.
"Who is there?" he called.
No one answered.
He approached the door cautiously and looked through the viewing slit.
The street outside appeared empty.
Mott waited.
When no second knock came, he opened the door only wide enough to examine the ground.
A small leather pouch lay upon the step.
He looked both ways before retrieving it and closing the door.
Inside the pouch was a silver coin and a folded scrap of parchment.
Mott carried it to the dying forge fire and unfolded the message.
Men are coming for the boy. Keep him inside until sunrise. Do not trust the gold cloaks.
The armourer read the warning twice.
There was no signature.
No seal.
Only the silver coin.
Tobho Mott rubbed it between his fingers and frowned.
Someone had paid for Gendry's apprenticeship years ago. A man wearing fine clothing had visited the forge, asked whether Mott would accept the boy and provided more gold than the apprenticeship required.
The man had never given his name.
Mott had not questioned it. Noblemen often paid to hide their mistakes, and King's Landing contained more unacknowledged children than rats.
But Jon Arryn had later visited the forge.
The Hand of the King had asked about Gendry's mother, his appearance and the stranger who had paid for his apprenticeship.
Jon Arryn had died shortly afterwards.
Now someone was coming for the boy.
Mott folded the warning and placed it inside his robe.
He locked the front door, secured the side entrance and began waking his apprentices.
"Get up," he ordered.
A younger boy groaned beneath his blanket.
"The sun is not up."
"Neither is your lazy backside. Move."
Gendry emerged from the rear room, pulling on his trousers.
"What happened?"
"Nothing yet."
Mott handed him a heavy smithing hammer.
Gendry looked at it and then at his master.
"Are we working?"
"No."
"Then why do I need this?"
"Because men may be coming to kill you."
Gendry stared at him.
"What?"
"You heard me."
"Why would anyone want to kill me?"
"I have been asking myself that question."
Gendry tightened his grip upon the hammer.
"Who warned you?"
"I do not know."
"That is comforting."
"It was not intended to be."
Mott turned to the other apprentices.
"Take whatever you can use. Stay away from the windows and do not open the doors."
One of the younger boys looked frightened.
"Shouldn't we call the City Watch?"
"The warning said not to trust them."
"It could be a lie."
Mott nodded.
"It could."
Gendry moved toward the front of the forge.
"Then let me see if anyone is outside."
Mott caught his shoulder.
"If men are coming for you, showing your face through a window would be unwise."
"I am not hiding while everyone else is placed in danger."
"You are my apprentice. You will do as I command."
Gendry's jaw tightened, but he remained inside.
Outside, the first part of Mario's plan had already begun.
A heavily loaded cart entered the Street of Steel from the western end. Its driver appeared half asleep, and one of its wheels seemed dangerously loose.
As it reached the narrowest portion of the road, the wheel broke.
The cart overturned.
Barrels of cheap ale rolled across the street, blocking the passage between two buildings.
The driver leapt down and began shouting for help.
"You blind fools!" he yelled at no one in particular. "Do none of you have eyes? Help me move these barrels!"
Several labourers emerged from nearby buildings.
None noticed the driver glance toward a woman standing beneath an awning.
She adjusted the red cloth wrapped around her hair.
The first signal.
The western road was closed.
At the eastern entrance to the street, smoke suddenly rose from an abandoned storage building.
A night watchman saw it and began ringing a handbell.
"Fire!"
Shopkeepers emerged carrying buckets.
Two gold cloaks came running, but their attention went immediately toward the smoke and the terrified residents gathering nearby.
No one noticed the three armed men enter a narrow alley behind Tobho Mott's forge.
A boy selling kindling saw them.
He dropped his basket and ran.
One of the armed men looked after him.
"Should we stop the brat?"
"Leave him," the leader answered. "We have one target."
They wore plain leather beneath dark cloaks. Their swords were short enough to conceal, and none displayed a badge or noble sigil.
The leader examined the rear entrance.
"Break it."
The largest man stepped forward with a small iron bar.
He forced it between the door and its frame.
Inside the forge, Gendry heard the wood creak.
"They're here."
Mott drew his sword.
"Everyone behind the anvils."
The younger apprentices obeyed.
Gendry did not.
He placed himself beside the rear passage with his hammer raised.
The door splintered inward.
The first attacker entered quickly, expecting a frightened apprentice.
Gendry swung.
The hammer struck the man's forearm with a sickening crack.
The attacker screamed and dropped his sword.
Gendry struck him again, this time across the side of the head. The man collapsed against the wall.
A second attacker rushed through the doorway.
Gendry attempted another swing, but the man stepped inside the arc of the hammer and punched him in the stomach.
Gendry stumbled backwards.
The attacker slashed at his chest.
Gendry lifted the hammer's handle in time. Steel struck wood, cutting deeply into it.
He drove his shoulder into the man and forced him against a worktable.
The assassin was smaller, but he knew how to fight.
He struck Gendry beneath the chin and swept one of his legs away.
Gendry fell heavily.
The sword rose above him.
Tobho Mott crossed the forge and attacked before the blade could descend.
The assassin turned and blocked his strike.
Their swords collided.
The third man entered and immediately saw Gendry upon the ground.
"There!"
Gendry rolled aside as the man thrust downward. The sword point struck the stone floor where his chest had been.
He grabbed the fallen attacker's broken arm and dragged the wounded man between them.
The third assassin cursed and kicked his companion away.
Gendry regained his feet, still holding the damaged hammer.
"Who sent you?" he demanded.
The man lunged.
Gendry blocked once.
The sword cut through the hammer's handle on the second strike.
Gendry was left holding little more than a piece of wood.
The assassin smiled.
Then a thin blade emerged through his shoulder.
His sword fell from his hand.
A black-clad woman stood behind him.
She pulled her blade free and struck the back of his head with its hilt.
The assassin collapsed.
Three more figures entered through the broken door.
Their clothing contained no colours or symbols, but they moved with the discipline of trained soldiers.
The leader fighting Tobho Mott tried to flee.
One of the newcomers struck his knee from the side. Another caught his sword arm and forced him face-first against the table.
The entire fight ended within seconds.
Gendry stared at the strangers.
The woman wiped her blade.
"Are you injured?"
"Who are you?"
"People who arrived before your killers."
"That is not an answer."
"It is the only one you require."
Gendry looked at the unconscious men.
"They came for me. I think I require more than that."
The woman ignored him and turned to one of her companions.
"Take the one with the broken arm. He is conscious enough to speak. Search the others."
Tobho Mott kept his sword raised.
"You sent the warning?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"To keep the boy alive."
"Who ordered you to protect him?"
The woman looked toward Gendry.
For a moment, he thought she might answer.
Instead, she said, "You must leave the city."
Gendry folded his arms.
"I am not leaving with strangers who refuse to give me their names."
"If you remain, more men will come."
"Then tell me why."
"Because Jon Arryn visited you before he died."
Gendry's defiance weakened.
"He only asked questions."
"Someone fears the answers."
Outside, the kindling seller appeared at the ruined entrance.
"Gold cloaks are coming."
The woman issued orders immediately.
"Move the prisoners through the eastern passage. Leave one body near the furnace and make it appear to be a robbery."
"What about the armourer and apprentices?" one agent asked.
"They go separately."
Gendry stepped in front of her.
"I am not going anywhere until someone tells me what this is about."
The woman looked at his black hair, broad shoulders and blue eyes.
"You are in danger because of your father."
"My father was some drunken bastard."
"That may be true."
"What does that mean?"
She turned toward the passage.
"It means you should survive long enough to learn his name."
A child watched from the rooftop across the street.
He was small enough to pass unnoticed among chimneys and hanging laundry. His bare feet moved silently over the tiles.
He had arrived after the fire began.
By then, the cart already blocked one road and the gold cloaks had been drawn toward the smoke.
The boy observed two men carry a prisoner out of the forge. They placed him inside a wagon marked with the symbol of a northern wool merchant.
Gendry and Tobho Mott emerged moments later wearing hooded cloaks.
The child hurried across the roof.
Below him, the black-clad woman looked upward.
For a moment, their eyes met.
The child froze.
The woman did not point, shout or send anyone after him.
She merely turned away.
That frightened him more.
He followed the wagon through three streets before abandoning the pursuit and returning to one of Varys's hidden entrances beneath the Red Keep.
By midday, the Spider knew what had occurred.
"A northern wool merchant?" Varys asked.
The little bird nodded.
"Did you see the merchant himself?"
The child shook his head.
"And they saw you?"
"The woman did."
"But she allowed you to leave."
Another nod.
Varys offered him a sweet.
The child took it and disappeared through the concealed passage.
Varys remained alone.
A cart had overturned at precisely the correct place.
A fire had drawn the City Watch away moments before armed men entered the forge.
The mysterious agents had known the attack was coming, captured the killers and removed Gendry without leaving a trail.
That required watchers, safe houses and trained operatives.
It required planning.
More importantly, it required the ability to read another intelligence network quickly enough to act before it.
Varys looked at the report concerning the northern merchant.
It was too obvious.
Jon Snow's people could construct ships larger than cities and hide kingdoms beyond the Wall. They would not accidentally reveal their allegiance through the symbol painted upon a wagon.
The woman had seen his little bird.
She had allowed the child to follow.
Varys slowly smiled.
"The wool merchant does not exist," he whispered.
Someone had fed him a false trail.
He was no longer merely watching an unknown network.
The unknown network was watching him in return.
The captured assassin awakened with a sack over his head.
His broken arm had been bound. His feet were tied to a chair, and leather straps secured his chest.
He could hear water nearby.
Not the Blackwater.
The current was too fast, and there were no bells, ships or dockworkers.
Someone removed the sack.
He found himself inside a stone cellar illuminated by a single lamp.
The woman from the forge sat across from him.
"You will tell me who hired you."
The man laughed despite the pain.
"I don't know."
"I believe you."
That answer confused him.
The woman placed several objects upon the table.
A copper coin.
A small key.
A receipt from a winesink.
And a carved wooden token marked with the image of a bird.
"We know you received your order through an intermediary," she continued. "You met him in a private room above the Painted Cup. He gave you half the payment and promised the remainder when Gendry was dead."
The assassin stared at her.
"If you know everything, why ask me?"
"Because we do not know whether the same man gave you another name."
He remained silent.
The woman leaned back.
"Your companions are dead."
It was a lie, but the prisoner could not know that.
"The man who hired you will assume you are dead as well. He will not rescue you. He will not pay your family."
"I have no family."
"Then you have even less reason to remain loyal."
The assassin's eyes moved toward the wooden token.
"That means nothing."
"It belongs to a gambling hall near the Mud Gate. The hall is owned by a merchant who pays a portion of his earnings to one of Lord Baelish's brothels."
"Half the city owes money to Baelish."
"True."
The woman placed a second parchment upon the table.
"The same intermediary ordered you to find a clerk named Olyvar. He copied pages from a book for Jon Arryn."
The man's face changed.
Only slightly.
It was enough.
"And there was another target," she continued. "A former servant of Lady Lysa Arryn."
"I never received that name."
"But you heard of the order."
Silence.
"Where is the servant?"
"I don't know."
"Where were you told he had gone?"
The prisoner looked at his bound arm.
"I need a healer."
"You have one."
"Then bring him."
"When you answer."
The assassin breathed through his teeth.
"Duskendale. That is all I heard."
"Where near Duskendale?"
"A village to the north. Close to the kingsroad."
"Name?"
"I don't know!"
The woman watched him carefully.
This time, she believed him.
"What were your orders concerning Gendry?"
"Kill him."
"And the others?"
"The clerk was to disappear. The servant was to be brought back alive if possible."
"Why?"
"No one told me."
"Was Gendry the only apprentice targeted?"
The man hesitated again.
The woman noticed.
"No," he finally admitted. "There were others. A girl in a brothel. A boy near Flea Bottom. People Jon Arryn visited."
"Who issued the list?"
"I swear, I don't know."
The woman stood.
"Then you will remain here until you remember."
Petyr Baelish received news of the failure before noon.
He listened without interruption as the owner of the Painted Cup explained that the hired men had never returned.
"The forge was empty when our second group arrived," the man said. "The armourer, his apprentices and the boy were gone."
"And the bodies?"
"One man was found near the furnace. The gold cloaks believe it was a robbery."
"Do you?"
The tavern owner swallowed.
"No, my lord."
Littlefinger poured two cups of wine.
He offered one to the man, who accepted it with trembling fingers.
"Who removed the boy?"
"We do not know. Witnesses saw a wagon belonging to a northern wool merchant."
"Which merchant?"
"We are searching."
"Stop."
The man blinked.
"My lord?"
"Stop searching for Gendry. Stop asking questions about the forge. Speak of this to no one."
"But the boy—"
"Is no longer important."
That was not true.
Gendry was more dangerous now than he had been before the attack. Whoever had taken him knew the boy mattered.
But continuing to pursue him would expose more of Petyr's network.
"Go," Littlefinger ordered.
The man hurried away.
Petyr waited until the door closed.
Varys was the obvious possibility.
The eunuch knew of Robert's bastards and possessed the means to remove one without alerting the City Watch.
Renly was another possibility. The king's youngest brother had reason to investigate the royal children, especially if he intended to bring Margaery Tyrell to Robert's bed.
Stannis had fled to Dragonstone after Jon Arryn's death. He knew more than anyone realised.
Jon Snow remained the most troubling possibility.
But the young king was travelling upon the Shivering Sea. His kingdom stood beyond the Wall. Controlling an assassination attempt inside King's Landing within hours of receiving information should have been impossible.
Petyr walked toward a small cabinet and removed three sealed messages.
If an enemy had entered his network, direct questions would not reveal the spy.
False information would.
One contact received word that Lysa's former servant had fled to Maidenpool.
A second was told the man had taken a ship to Gulltown.
A third learned he had hidden inside an abandoned sept north of Duskendale.
Only one location contained anything of value.
If mysterious agents appeared at one of the false destinations, Petyr would know which portion of his network had been compromised.
He summoned three different couriers.
As they departed separately, Littlefinger's smile returned.
Someone else had placed pieces upon his board.
That did not mean they understood the game.
The report reached the Winter's Titan through radio stations and coded relay points.
Mario entered the command room carrying the translated message.
"The operation succeeded," he announced. "Gendry survived. Tobho Mott and his apprentices have been moved to separate safe locations."
Jon stood beside the navigation table.
The storm had passed, leaving the sea unusually calm. Sunlight shone through broken clouds and reflected from the wet upper decks.
"One attacker was captured?" Jon asked.
"Alive. He confirmed that Gendry, the clerk and Lysa Arryn's former servant were all targeted through the same intermediary."
"Connected to Baelish?"
"The intermediary used one of Baelish's businesses, but that does not prove he received the order directly from Baelish."
Alex accepted the report from Mario.
"That man hides behind a great many layers."
"That is why he has survived," Jon said.
Mario placed another page upon the table.
"Varys sent one of his little birds to observe the forge. Our agents noticed him and showed him the false northern merchant trail."
"Did they harm the child?"
"No."
"Good."
Alex studied Gendry's description.
"Why is one blacksmith's apprentice so valuable?"
"He is Robert Baratheon's son."
"Robert has fathered many bastards."
"Exactly."
Jon took the report and pointed to the description.
"Black hair. Blue eyes. Strong build. Every known child born from Baratheon blood has inherited similar features."
Alex's expression became thoughtful.
"Robert has black hair."
"As did his brothers, his father and generations of Baratheons before them."
"And the royal children are golden-haired."
"All three resemble Cersei and Jaime."
Silence filled the room.
Alex looked up.
"The children are not Robert's."
"That is what the evidence suggests," Jon answered. "Suspicion is not proof, and an accusation without proof could begin a war."
Mario nodded.
"Jon Arryn reached the same conclusion."
"He was murdered before he could present it."
Alex placed both hands upon the table.
"If Robert learns the truth, he will kill Cersei."
"He may kill the children as well."
"They are innocent."
"Robert will see Lannister blood and treason. Not innocent children."
Mario looked toward Jon.
"What do you intend to do?"
"First, we determine the truth. Then we prevent Robert's anger from creating a slaughter."
Alex released a humourless laugh.
"You make that sound simple."
"It will not be."
Jon turned toward Mario.
"Find every bastard Jon Arryn visited. Protect them, but do not gather them together."
Mario immediately understood.
"One attack could remove every witness."
"Exactly. Keep them in separate safe houses. Give each location a different route of communication. If one is compromised, the others must remain secure."
"And Gendry?"
"Tell him nothing about his father yet."
"He will demand answers."
"He can demand them safely."
Mario bowed.
"One more matter. Baelish has suddenly begun distributing reports concerning the missing servant. Three separate destinations have appeared within his network."
Jon examined the names.
"Maidenpool. Gulltown. A sept near Duskendale."
Alex frowned.
"Which one is correct?"
"Possibly none," Jon said.
Mario's eyes narrowed.
"He is testing his people."
"He wants to learn which version reaches us."
"What should we do?"
"Do not move openly toward any of them. Verify each report through independent agents. Baelish expects a reaction."
Alex looked impressed.
"So the mockingbird has realised someone is reading his messages."
"Yes," Jon replied. "Now he is writing for us."
In Winterfell, Cersei read Pycelle's reply beside the fire.
The necessary members of the council have been informed. Measures are being taken to protect the interests of the crown.
She folded the message and placed it inside the flames.
The parchment curled and blackened.
Jaime watched from the other side of the chamber.
"What measures?"
Cersei glanced at him.
"You read my private letters now?"
"You burned it before I could."
"It was from Pycelle."
"That explains why it contained many words and very little meaning."
Cersei poured herself wine.
"The council knows Jon Snow is investigating Jon Arryn."
Jaime's expression hardened.
"You warned all of them?"
"I warned Pycelle."
"And he warned whomever he considered necessary."
"Yes."
"That was unwise."
Cersei turned sharply.
"I will not allow that northern savage to search through our affairs without resistance."
"He has not accused you of anything."
"Not yet."
Jaime studied her.
"Why does Jon Arryn's investigation frighten you so much?"
"It does not."
"You sent a raven across the realm because you are not frightened?"
Cersei's fingers tightened around her cup.
"Jon Snow threatened Joffrey. He warned Stark against the betrothal and ordered him to watch Baelish. He is interfering in matters that do not concern him."
"Ned Stark concerns him."
"He abandoned Winterfell years ago."
"He returned as a king and still called them his family."
Jaime moved closer.
"If Jon knows enough to frighten you, perhaps you should tell me what he knows."
Cersei looked toward the closed door.
"He knows nothing."
"You are a poor liar when you are angry."
"And you ask too many questions when you should be protecting us."
Jaime's expression cooled.
"I have spent most of my life protecting you."
"Then continue."
She left before he could respond.
Jaime remained beside the fire, staring at the ashes of Pycelle's message.
Later that afternoon, Sansa crossed the inner courtyard with Jeyne Poole beside her.
Joffrey stood near the stables with the Hound and two royal guards.
A young stable boy knelt before him.
One side of the boy's face was red.
"You allowed mud to touch my saddle," Joffrey said.
"I'm sorry, Your Grace. The horse kicked the bucket—"
Joffrey struck him with a riding crop.
The boy cried out.
Sansa stopped.
Joffrey raised the crop again.
"Please stop."
He turned.
For a heartbeat, anger remained openly visible upon his face.
Then he saw Sansa, the guards and several nearby servants watching.
His expression changed.
The anger disappeared behind a courteous smile.
"Lady Sansa."
"The boy apologised."
"He damaged royal property."
"It is only mud."
Joffrey's smile remained, but his eyes did not soften.
"A future king cannot permit servants to ignore their duties."
"The horse kicked the bucket," Sansa repeated. "It was not deliberate."
The Hound watched silently.
Joffrey lowered the crop.
"If it troubles you, I will forgive him."
Sansa looked at the stable boy.
"Go."
The boy glanced nervously at Joffrey.
"You heard the lady," the prince said pleasantly. "Leave us."
The boy hurried away.
Joffrey offered Sansa his arm.
"You see? I am not unreasonable."
Sansa did not take it.
She remembered how quickly his face had changed when he noticed witnesses.
He knew when his cruelty could be seen.
He knew how to hide it.
That frightened her more than his anger.
"I should return to my mother."
Joffrey's smile weakened.
"Of course."
Sansa walked away.
Arya waited beneath the covered walkway.
She had witnessed everything.
For once, she did not mock Sansa or call Joffrey names.
She simply walked beside her.
After they entered the keep, Arya asked quietly, "Do you still need to wait for Jon?"
Sansa looked ahead.
"I want to hear what Jon knows."
"That was not my question."
Sansa stopped.
Her dreams of the south had always been filled with golden princes, beautiful courts and noble knights.
Joffrey looked like a prince from a song.
But songs never mentioned how easily a handsome prince could smile after striking someone who could not fight back.
"I no longer want the betrothal," Sansa said.
Arya nodded.
She did not grin.
She did not celebrate.
She reached for Sansa's hand and squeezed it once.
"Then we tell Father."
Together, the sisters continued toward Ned's solar.
North of D Duskendale, a terrified man hid beneath the floor of an abandoned cottage.
He had once served Lysa Arryn in the Eyrie.
After Jon Arryn's death, he had fled with enough silver to survive for several months. He changed his name, avoided large settlements and slept with a dagger beneath his blanket.
That night, he heard horses outside.
He crawled beneath the floorboards and held his breath.
The cottage door opened.
Footsteps crossed the room above him.
The loose board lifted.
A hooded man looked down.
"If you scream, Baelish's hunters will hear you."
The servant's eyes widened.
"You are not with them?"
"No."
"Who are you?"
"Someone who can keep you alive if you answer my questions."
The servant climbed out slowly.
Two more figures stood near the windows, watching the road.
"What do you want?"
"To know what you saw before Jon Arryn died."
The man's face lost its colour.
"I saw nothing."
"Then why did you run?"
"I was frightened."
"Of whom?"
No answer came.
The agent removed a small parchment from inside his cloak.
"These men are searching for you. One served in a business owned by Petyr Baelish. The other accepted payment from one of his intermediaries."
The servant stared at the names.
"They found me."
"Not yet."
"They always find everyone."
"Then help us end that."
The man sank into a chair.
For several moments, only the crackling fire could be heard.
"Lady Lysa received a letter," he finally whispered.
"From whom?"
"I never read it. She kept it hidden."
"When?"
"Several days before Lord Arryn became ill."
"Was anything delivered with it?"
The servant closed his eyes.
"A small bottle."
The agent leaned forward.
"What was inside?"
"I don't know. Lady Lysa took it into her chamber and ordered everyone away."
"Who delivered it?"
The man began trembling.
"If I tell you, he will kill me."
"If you remain silent, his men will find you before sunrise."
The servant looked toward the windows.
A distant light moved along the road.
Riders were approaching.
The agents drew their weapons.
"Who delivered the bottle?" the leader demanded.
The servant's voice fell to a whisper.
"A man wearing the mockingbird's silver."
The approaching horses grew louder.
The leader stood.
"Move him through the rear entrance. Two of you come with me."
"Can you protect me?" the servant asked desperately.
The agent pulled up his hood.
"My king sent us to find the truth."
"What king?"
The cottage door shook beneath a heavy strike.
The agent drew his sword.
"The one Petyr Baelish should have feared before he began killing witnesses."
The report reached the Winter's Titan several hours later.
Mario placed the decoded message before Jon and Alex.
"Our agents found the servant," he said. "Baelish's men reached the cottage shortly afterwards. Two were killed, and one was captured. The servant is being moved north."
Jon read the testimony carefully.
Alex stood beside him.
"The servant saw Baelish's man deliver a bottle to Lysa Arryn."
"Yes."
"Is that enough?"
"No. He did not see what was inside the bottle. He did not see Lysa poison her husband, and Baelish can deny that the messenger acted upon his orders."
"But you believe it."
"The poison came through Baelish's network. Lysa administered it or helped someone else administer it."
Mario looked toward the map.
"Then Jon Arryn's wife murdered him."
"With Baelish guiding her," Jon said. "Most likely by promising her the life she wanted after her husband's death."
Alex's expression hardened.
"She killed the father of her own child for Baelish?"
"People have destroyed kingdoms for less."
Jon placed the report beside Petyr Baelish's name.
They now possessed a witness, a messenger and a connection to the poison.
It was not yet enough to condemn a member of the small council before the realm.
But it was enough to reveal the shape of the conspiracy.
"Move the servant to a secure location," Jon ordered. "Do not send him to Winterfell or the Titan. If Baelish discovers where he is, let him find an empty safe house."
Mario bowed.
"And the captured men?"
"Trace every payment and every person who carried their orders. Baelish buried himself beneath layers of servants and intermediaries."
Jon rested one finger upon the mockingbird drawn beside Petyr's name.
"We will remove those layers one at a time."
Alex stared at the testimony.
"Now we know where the poison came from."
Jon looked south.
Somewhere beyond the horizon, Petyr Baelish still believed he could discover and manipulate his unseen enemy.
He did not yet realise that one of the witnesses he had hunted was alive.
He did not know that his assassin had been captured.
And he could not know that every desperate attempt to erase the truth only made the path leading back to him clearer.
"Yes," Jon said.
"Now we discover who poured it."
End of Chapter 144
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Author's Note
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The Legendary tier has now been available for about a month, and thank you so much to everyone supporting me through it!
🔥 Naruto: The God List Exposed My City
Some older readers may recognize this story. This is an old fanfiction of mine that I had stopped writing, but I have finally restarted it and will be taking it seriously again.
Patreon: Up to Chapter 18 available now!
For now, the new chapters will remain Patreon-exclusive. Once the story reaches Chapter 34 on Patreon, I will restart uploading new chapters on Webnovel as well.
Current Patreon Chapters
📖 Reborn as Jon Snow with God System — Up to Chapter 174
🏰 GOT Kingdom Building System — Up to Chapter 107
🍥 Naruto: The God List Exposed My City — Up to Chapter 18
And more is coming!
🎬 I've also released a Reborn as Jon Snow with God System Auidobook upto chapters 31–60 video with improved visuals on my YouTube channel: Epicpensaga.
Patreon: patreon.com/EpicpensagabyMR_Fanfic
Thank you for all the support!
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