Arthur continued. "The second charge His Grace laid upon you is to end the quarrel between House Stark and House Lannister, once and for all."
A shadow crossed Lord Stark's face. "I am aware of that." His voice had grown colder than before. "Have you come merely to remind me that I am to release the Imp again?"
Arthur answered calmly, "Robert commands that you rescind the summons you issued for Lord Tywin."
The chamber fell still. For an instant Arthur heard nothing save the crackle of the fire. Ned's face hardened at once and his temper stirred.
"Tywin Lannister stands accused of a crime, by his own monster's confession no less!" Ned said, his voice carrying more strength than his wounded body ought to possess. "He must stand justice."
"My lord," Arthur replied patiently, keeping his voice measured, "Lord Tywin is the grandsire of our future king. Humbling him before the realm will gain you little, save another enemy."
Ned spoke coldly, "You were not there Arthur, but your father was, when Tywin sacked this very city. He claimed he had done it for Robert, for justice!'" His grey eyes grew distant, "They had butchered the smallfolk without mercy, raped and ravaged them, and put their homes to the torch."
Arthur knew of the sack of King's Landing only from stories. Many survivors of that sack now lived up north in his city. Poor Barney was among them a few moons ago. They still cursed Tywin's name and mourned their loved ones each year the day returned. The Sept of Snows holds a special mass for the dead.
"This was never about enmity, Arthur," Ned replied sadly.
Arthur replied, sighing, "I know my lord. Yet peace cannot be achieved by drawing swords when we are not ready."
Ned looked at him and said, "Is the king afraid of the Lion? Does Tywin's pride stand above the king's laws?"
"No," Arthur replied, "This is merely not the right time. The king is not asking you to forgive the man, he is asking you to obey his commands."
Ned frowned and said, "Is it the king who speaks or you?"
"I will never overstep my bounds, my lord, I only speak what was decided." Arthur folded his hands and said, "Release the summons. In return, demand Ser Amory Lorch. The man is the one who killed Rhaenys. Give him to Dorne, and their grievance may be quieted for a time."
Ned's grey eyes remained fixed upon him.
Arthur continued. "Afterward we may bargain with Lord Tywin from a position of peace. The crown owes Casterly Rock an enormous debt. We need to get rid of that soon. Offer Jaime's release from the Kingsguard in exchange for forgiving what the Iron Throne owes. You can also punish Jaime by taking his honor and removing him from the kingsguard. Both sides gain something."
Ned frowned. "Let the Kingslayer go and rule as Lord of Casterly Rock?" There was plain disbelief in his voice. "The man murdered the king he had sworn to protect. The only cloak he should be wearing is black."
Arthur suppressed a weary sigh and said, "My lord, please try to listen to reason. If you are to govern the realm while His Grace is abroad, you need men in the capital whose loyalty rests with you. Release Jaime, name another knight to the Kingsguard, a man of your own choosing—"
"The king chooses the kingsguard," Ned declared, "Speak the final part and get this over with. I grow weary of this."
"Very well," Arthur said, suppressing his anger, "You must remove Janos Slynt from command of the City Watch."
"Again, with this," Ned said angrily, "Where is your proof against Janos?"
Arthur held Lord Stark's gaze for a long moment before answering. There had been another time, only days before, when they had stood in this same chamber over this same matter. That meeting had ended with neither of them yielding an inch. He remembered it well enough.
Arthur had urged caution then, urged Lord Stark to remove Janos Slynt before the captain's loyalties could become a danger. Lord Eddard had refused, stating he could not strip a man of office because of whispers and suspicions. Justice demanded proof.
Then Yoren had arrived from the Wall with word of Tyrion Lannister's capture, and the whole matter had been swept aside by greater troubles. Arthur had argued for compromise with Lord Tywin, hoping to keep the peace before swords were drawn. It seemed every attempt he made to steady the realm only stirred the waters further.
"I have found it, my lord," Arthur said firmly. "Varys comes with evidence enough to warrant Slynt's arrest."
"Varys?" Ned asked, disbelief plain upon his face. "You place your trust in the Spider now?"
"For now," Arthur answered evenly. "I trust the proof he carries more than I trust the man himself."
Alyn entered first, closing the door softly behind him. "My lord," the captain said, bowing. "Lord Varys has arrived."
Arthur looked back toward Lord Stark. "Would you at least hear my case, my lord?"
Ned let out a weary sigh. "Send him in," he commanded.
Alyn stepped aside. Lord Varys glided into the chamber as quietly as a cat, wrapped in flowing lavender silks that seemed strangely bright against the sober chamber of the Hand. Behind him came three servants, each bearing a heavy bundle wrapped in coarse sailcloth.
The eunuch bowed so low his powdered head nearly touched the floor. "My lord Hand," Varys said in his soft high voice. "It gladdens my heart beyond measure to see you restored to us. The realm has sorely missed your wisdom."
Lord Stark looked distinctly unimpressed. "Get to the matter."
"As you command." Varys gestured to the servants.
They laid the bundles upon the floor and peeled back the cloth to reveal the breastplates of the officers that were killed by Janos. Arthur explained what they were and what had happened to them.
"You mean to say these men were witnesses against Janos," Ned asked.
Arthur nodded, "Captain Mallard and Sergeant Brock. They were willing to stand before the king at the behest of Lord Arryn."
Varys folded his plump hands together and said, "Lord Stannis urged His Grace to dismiss Janos Slynt. Lord Arryn did the same. His Grace… however declined upon another's counsel."
Arthur knew well enough whose counsel the eunuch meant. Littlefinger had argued that Janos was useful, and Robert, as ever, had preferred the easier path.
"But no longer," Arthur said. "His Grace has given you leave to bring the commander of the City Watch to justice. Janos Slynt is to answer for corruption, dereliction of duty, and the breach of the King's Peace."
Silence settled over the chamber. For a while, Ned said nothing. His grey eyes lingered upon Arthur before turning to Varys. At last he said, "How am I to know any of this to be true, Arthur?"
His gaze hardened upon the Master of Whisperers. "Jon Arryn is dead. Gods alone know what Stannis Baratheon is about. Should I simply take the word of the realm's whisperer?"
Arthur answered. "My lord, you need not rely upon our words alone. Lord Arryn kept records. You will find Captain Mallard and Sergeant Brock named there as witnesses. He intended to question them himself."
Varys stepped quietly forward. "If it pleases my lord." From within his perfumed sleeves the eunuch produced a folded parchment, its wax seal broken long ago but still bearing the falcon and moon. "I had hoped this would prove of some assistance."
He offered it with both hands. Ned accepted the parchment slowly. His fingers lingered over the faded seal before unfolding it.
"Before Lord Stannis departed King's Landing, he entrusted Grand Maester Pycelle with this letter, instructing him to place it before His Grace upon the king's return from Winterfell. It would seem..." Varys smiled sadly. "...our good Grand Maester's years overcame his memory."
Arthur watched Lord Stark's eyes move steadily across the page. He could not read the words from where he stood, yet he noticed the slight tightening around Ned's jaw. Almost as if he could not trust the words.
When Lord Stark finished, he folded the letter once more and laid it upon the coverlet. His expression had changed little. Ned remained unconvinced. "What you place before me remains little more than hearsay." He turned toward Varys. "Did His Grace know of this letter?"
The eunuch lowered his eyes. "I cannot say, my lord."
"Then how can I accept this as proof," Ned answered and before they could say anything else, "You have said your part, Varys, now leave us."
Varys bowed low. "As you command, my lord." His smile never quite left his face. "May the gods grant you a swift recovery."
Without another word, the eunuch turned and glided from the chamber, the Manderly servants following behind with the heavy chest. The door closed softly behind them, leaving Arthur alone with his foster father once more.
Ned leaned back against the pillows, his face drawn from pain and weariness. His grey eyes remained fixed upon Arthur, searching him as though he were looking upon a man he no longer wholly understood.
"You trust the wrong man, Arthur," Ned said at last, his voice cold, "The Spider deceives you."
Arthur met his gaze without flinching.
"I know of these witnesses you speak of," Ned continued. "Littlefinger told me of them some days past. He said Lord Arryn meant to question them regarding another matter of great import."
His fingers tightened around the blanket. "A matter beyond your knowledge."
"Is it about the king's bastards?" Arthur asked, surprise flickered across Ned Stark's face.
"Aye." Ned studied him with narrowed eyes. "So you know that much."
Arthur said nothing.
"The Spider would have you chasing Janos Slynt," Ned went on, "while the truth slips through your fingers. Jon Arryn did not die because of corrupt gold cloaks." His voice hardened. "He was murdered by the Lannisters who surrounded the king, something you refuse to accept."
Arthur drew a slow breath. "My lord," he said quietly, "as I told you before... Tyrion Lannister had no hand in Lord Arryn's death."
"How can you be certain?" Ned's eyes sharpened. "Even if the imp hadn't killed Jon, the Kingslayer and Queen Cersei are not beyond suspicion."
"They are not," Arthur said, unable to keep a trace of anger from his voice. "I am not certain of the Lannister's innocence, but what I am certain of is you are being misled, especially Lady Catelyn." He continued, "Baelish and she grew up together at Riverrun. Whatever words he worships into her ears will sound like the truth for few men know her heart better than he. "
The words escaped before he had weighed them.
"Do not forget yourself, Arthur." Ned's face darkened. "I am your liege lord still. And Catelyn is my lady wife."
The rebuke struck harder than Arthur had expected. He lowered his head. "Forgive me, my lord. I meant no insult to Lady Catelyn."
When he looked up again, the anger had already left him, replaced with frustration. "I have served House Stark since I was old enough to understand what service meant. My loyalty has never wavered. I counsel only what I believe will preserve you... and the realm"
For a moment Arthur thought his words had found purchase. Instead, Lord Stark's expression only hardened further. "Do you?"
"Your counsel has set this realm upon a dangerous road. A holy crusade for Andalos." His mouth tightened around the words, as though they tasted bitter. "You urge lords to cross the Narrow Sea in search of conquest, and you take your king into foreign lands to wage war. If Robert dies there..."
He held Arthur's gaze. "...his blood shall be upon your head."
The words settled heavily between them.
Arthur grew angry, he stared at Lord Stark and said, "Everything I am doing is for the good of the realm."
"So you believe." Ned rubbed absently at his brow. "Yet I am certain you are yet to know what good truly is."
"Aye, mayhaps I do not." Arthur admitted, defiantly, "But I know what must be done."
The chambers felt strangely small then. Ned looked at Arthur as though he was watching a stranger. When he spoke again, much of the anger had faded, leaving only weariness.
"You have done well, Arthur, for the North. For House Manderly. For my own house." He spoke softly, "For that, Arthur, I shall always be grateful."
He paused to catch his breath. Arthur noticed how pale he had become. Even speaking for so long was taxing him. Then Ned continued.
"But this city..." His eyes drifted toward the shuttered window, as though he could see the Red Keep and all its vipers beyond the stone walls. "There is something about King's Landing that twists every honest purpose."
His gaze returned to Arthur. "Since I came south, it seems we keep finding ourselves standing upon opposite sides of every question. I had expected this might happen. But I was scarcely prepared for that."
The disappointment in his voice was plain. As if this was expected, as if he had found himself in a similar fate before. Ned drew a slow breath. "Arthur… no matter what happens, I hope you remember where your loyalties lie. Winter is coming."
Silence followed. Arthur grew visibly angry at the words. He had not expected this is how the day would turn.
"I do not wish to speak further on these matters with you." Ned continued, "You have given your counsel, and I have heard it. But your ambition exceeds your temperance."
Arthur felt the words settle upon him like ice.
"I know you believe yourself to be serving the realm. Mayhaps you are. Yet a man who looks too far ahead may fail to see the ground beneath his own feet." Ned spoke coldly.
His grey eyes hardened. "If Robert had not named you his commander, I would have sent you back to White Harbor myself. Go and bid your farewells. You sail upon the morrow."
"And when this folly of a war is done..." He closed his eyes for a heartbeat. "...I pray you'll retire to White Harbor unharmed."
Arthur had entered the chamber hoping to leave with Lord Stark's trust restored. Instead, he found the gulf between them wider than ever. He bowed his head one final time. "My lord."
Lord Stark gave no answer. Arthur turned and strode from the chamber before the silence could grow any heavier. The door closed softly behind him.
Outside, the corridor was quiet save for the scrape of boots upon stone. Donnel glanced toward him but wisely said nothing.
Near the windows stood Arya and Sansa. Both girls looked up the instant the door opened.
"Arthur!" Arya called. "Did Father—"
Sansa said at the same time, concern plain upon her face. "How is Father? Did he—"
But Arthur passed between them without so much as lifting his eyes.
"Arthur!"
Arthur heard hurried footsteps behind him. Still he did not turn. His stride only quickened as he and Donnel descended the tower steps. Behind him the voices faded. He was in no state to speak with either of them. Not now. Not while anger still burned hot within him.
Few men could wound Arthur with words and he long since grew accustomed to distrust of others. Their whispers, insults nor praises ceased to affect him years ago. Their opinions mattered little to him.
But Lord Stark it was different. The man who had corrected him when he erred, praised him when praise was earned, and raised him alongside his own children without ever making him feel less than a son of the household. His words held weight to Arthur, as did his trust.
Arthur had spent years trying to prove himself worthy of that faith. In every harbor he had forged, every risk he had taken, and every victory he had brought to his house. He had never thought only of White Harbor.
Whenever Arthur strengthened his own house, he sought to strengthen House Stark beside it. Wealth for the North. Ships for the North. Allies for the North.
For Arthur had believed their futures were one and the same. And now… Your ambition exceeds your temperance. Remember where your loyalties lie. The words lingered.
Arthur forced his breathing to slow and forced himself to think. Perhaps Lord Stark was not seeing matters clearly. Perhaps pain clouded his judgment. Perhaps the milk of the poppy dulled more than his wound.
Arthur wanted to believe that. He needed to believe it. For the alternative was far worse. That Eddard Stark had looked him in the eye, weighed all he had become... and simply no longer trusted him.
Arthur and Donnel rode back to the Manderly manse without exchanging a word. The streets of King's Landing teemed with their usual clamor. Hawkers cried their wares, wagons rumbled over uneven cobbles, and the smell of smoke, salt, and horse dung drifted upon the afternoon air.
By the time they reached the manse, the sun had begun its slow descent toward the western hills, casting long shadows across the courtyard. Guards pulled open the gates, and stableboys hurried forward to take their horses. Arthur swung down from Midnight's saddle just as his steward came striding across the yard with uncommon haste.
"My lord," Halder called. "I bring urgent news."
Arthur handed the reins to a groom before turning to face him. "What is it?"
Halder bowed. "My lord, Lord Mace Tyrell and Lady Olenna have called upon you. They wish for an audience this evening, if it pleases you."
Arthur's brow knit together as they crossed the courtyard toward the hall, he asked, "Have they given a reason for the visit?"
"They have, my lord." Halder hesitated only briefly. "Lady Tyrell wishes to discuss certain matters concerning trade agreements that cannot wait "
Arthur glanced sideways at him. "Since when does the Queen of Thorns concern herself with trade?"
Halder replied, "I could not say, my lord, but it was Lord Tyrell who had sent the letter."
"Had lord Tyrell been coming alone, I would have thought like that too," Arthur replied, "This is Lady Olenna's decision, but why?" His expression grew more thoughtful. "There is something else behind this sudden visit."
"Aye." Donnel removed his gloves as he walked beside him. "But whatever the reason, you cannot deny a meeting with the Lord Paramount of the Reach."
"No." Arthur replied, "I had no intention of it either." He looked back to Halder. "Tell Lord Tyrell and Lady Olenna that House Manderly shall be honored to receive them this evening."
"It shall be done." Halder said and asked, "Shall we prepare a feast?"
Arthur looked about the hall. Servants bustled from room to room carrying ledgers, casks, bolts of sailcloth, and bundles meant for the fleet. Everywhere men and women hurried to finish preparations before tomorrow's departure. There was no time for treating guests now but he had no choice.
Arthur sighed and said, "Aye, we must, Lord Mace would think us poor hosts if we set only bread and ale before him."
Donnel chuckled. "And Lady Olenna would likely tell us so."
Arthur had little doubt of it. He turned once more toward Halder. "Where is Uncle Wendel?"
"Ser Wendel is at the harbor, my lord."
"Still overseeing the loading?" Donnel asked, frowning. "How much work is still left there?"
"Ser Wendel insists on inspecting every wagon himself," Halder replied proudly, reading a small wax tablet tucked beneath his arm. "Most of the rations have already been taken aboard the first fleet, in this we have things that would've cost more food had we sent them earlier."
The warhorses. Arthur thought.
Halder added, "We have also engaged the new cooks requested for His Grace. They have been assigned to your flagship, along with the king's own stores."
Arthur nodded with satisfaction. "Good." He loosened the clasp of his riding cloak and handed it to a servant. "Have fresh clothes prepared for me this evening. And see that every account is settled before nightfall. I wish every vessel ready to sail before the first light touches Blackwater Bay."
Arthur looked toward the harbor from his window. He will not give up, he may have failed to replace Janos this time, but he will find a way soon enough. "We leave for war with the dawn."
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