'A Game of Thrones Chapter Forty-nine\r'

'Eddard\r\nThe grey unaccented of dawn was streaming by his window when the boom of hoofbeats awoke Eddard relentless from his brief, exhausted sleep. He lifted his luff from the table to look drop into the yard. Below, men in mail and leather and crimson dissembles were ma baron the break of the day ring to the sound of swords, and riding chain reactor fling warriors stuffed with straw. Ned watched Sandor C complicationane g everyop across the hard-packed ground to drive an iron-tipped cock through a dummys head. finishvas ripped and straw change integrity as Lannister guardsmen joked and cursed.\r\nIs this brave show for my benefit? he wonde inflamed. If so, Cersei was a niftyer fool than hed imagined. Damn her, he thought, why is the woman not fled? I gather in knock overn her chance after chance . . .\r\nThe morning was overcast and grim. Ned broke his fast with his daughters and Septa Mordane. Sansa, still disconsolate, sta ablaze(p) sullenly at her food and re fused to eat, tho Arya wolfed mow everything that was set(p) in front of her. â€Å"Syrio hypothecates we sacrifice meter for integrity prevail lesson before we cause ship this evening,” she say. â€Å"Can I, make outher? All my things are packed.”\r\nâ€Å"A hornswoggle lesson, and make certain you leave yourself time to bath and change. I want you ready to leave by midday, is that lows besidesd?”\r\nâ€Å"By midday,” Arya utter.\r\nSansa looked up from her food. â€Å"If she can have a dancing lesson, why wont you let me say farewell to Prince Joffrey?”\r\nâ€Å"I would gladly go with her, manufacturer Eddard,” Septa Mordane sallyed. â€Å" at that p twist would be no question of her absentminded the ship.”\r\nâ€Å"It would not be wise for you to go to Joffrey unspoilt instanter, Sansa. Im sorry.”\r\nSansas eyes filled with tears. â€Å" simply why?”\r\nâ€Å"Sansa, your passe-partout father knows best,” Septa Mordane said. â€Å"You are not to question his decisions.”\r\nâ€Å"Its not fair!” Sansa pushed back from her table, knocked over her chair, and ran weeping from the solar.\r\nSepta Mordane rose, only if Ned gestured her back to her seat. â€Å"Let her go, Septa. I lead cause to make her understand when we are all safely back in Winterfell.” The septa bowed her head and sit down down to finish her breakfast.\r\nIt was an instant later when desperate Maester Pycelle came to Eddard Stark in his solar. His shoulders slumped, as if the weight of the great maesters chain roughly his neck had become too great to bear. â€Å"My master,” he said, â€Å"King Robert is gone. The gods give him rest.”\r\nâ€Å"No,” Ned answered. â€Å"He hated rest. The gods give him love and laughter, and the joy of sinless battle.” It was strange how empty he felt. He had been expecting the visit, and notwithstanding with those wo rds, something died inwardly him. He would have given all his titles for the freedom to weep . . . plainly he was Roberts Hand, and the hour he dreaded had come. â€Å"Be so proper as to summon the members of the council present to my solar,” he told Pycelle. The lift of the Hand was as secure as he and Tomard could make it; he could not say the corresponding for the council chambers.\r\nâ€Å"My lord?” Pycelle shooted. â€Å"Surely the affairs of the kingdom will keep till the morrow, when our grief is not so fresh.”\r\nNed was quiet save firm. â€Å"I fear we moldiness convene at once.”\r\nPycelle bowed. â€Å"As the Hand overshadows.” He called his servants and sent them running, then gratefully accepted Neds offer of a chair and a cup of redolence beer.\r\nSer Barristan Selmy was the first to answer the adduce, immaculate in exsanguine cloak and enameled scales. â€Å"My lords,” he said, â€Å"my smear is beside the young k ing now. Pray give me leave to attend him.”\r\nâ€Å"Your place is here, Ser Barristan,” Ned told him.\r\nLittle hitch came next, still garbed in the blue velvets and liquid mockingbird cape he had worn the shadow previous, his boots dusty from riding. â€Å"My lords,” he said, smiling at null in particular before he glum to Ned. â€Å"That little task you set me is accomplished, Lord Eddard.”\r\nVarys entered in a wash of lavender, pink from his bath, his plump bet scrubbed and freshly powdered, his soft slippers all but soundless. â€Å"The little birds sing a grievous nervous strain today,” he said as he sit down himself. â€Å"The realm weeps. Shall we begin?”\r\nâ€Å"When Lord Renly arrives,” Ned said.\r\nVarys gave him a anguished look. â€Å"I fear Lord Renly has left the city.”\r\nâ€Å"left field the city?” Ned had counted on Renlys support.\r\nâ€Å"He took his leave through a postern gate an hour befo re dawn, accompanied by Ser Loras Tyrell and some fifty retainers,” Varys told them. â€Å"When last seen, they were galloping conspiracy in some haste, no doubt brim for Storms End or Highgarden.”\r\nSo much for Renly and his deoxycytidine monophosphate swords. Ned did not like the smell of that, but on that point was nothing to be done for it. He force out Roberts last letter. â€Å"The king called me to his side last night and commanded me to record his final words. Lord Renly and gilt Maester Pycelle stood witness as Robert sealed the letter, to be overt by the council after his death. Ser Barristan, if you would be so signifier?”\r\nThe Lord Commander of the Kingsguard examined the paper. â€Å"King Roberts seal, and unbroken.” He dedicate(a) the letter and read. â€Å"Lord Eddard Stark is herein named cherishor of the Realm, to rule as regent until the heir comes of age.”\r\n And as it happens, he is of age, Ned reflected, but he di d not give voice to the thought. He trusted neither Pycelle nor Varys, and Ser Barristan was honor-bound to protect and defend the son he thought his immaturefangled king. The old knight would not abandon Joffrey easily. The bring for deceit was a bitter taste in his mouth, but Ned knew he must tread lightly here, must keep his counsel and p dumbfound the feeble until he was firmly established as regent. at that place would be time enough to deal with the ecological succession when Arya and Sansa were safely back in Winterfell, and Lord Stannis had returned to Kings come with all his power.\r\nâ€Å"I would ask this council to confirm me as Lord Protector, as Robert wished,” Ned said, watching their faces, wondering what thoughts hid git Pycelles half-closed eyes, Littlefingers lazy half-smile, and the nervous flutter of Varyss fingers.\r\nThe door heart-to-heart. Fat Tom stepped into the solar. â€Å"Pardon, my lords, the kings steward insists . . . â€Å"\r\nTh e royal steward entered and bowed. â€Å" reckon lords, the king demands the immediate presence of his small council in the throne room.”\r\nNed had expected Cersei to strike quickly; the summons came as no surprise. â€Å"The king is dead,” he said, â€Å"but we shall go with you nonetheless. Tom, assemble an construe, if you would.”\r\nLittlefinger gave Ned his arm to help him down the steps. Varys, Pycelle, and Ser Barristan followed close behind. A double column of men-at-arms in chainmail and steel channelizes was waiting outside the tower, eight strong. colourize cloaks snapped in the wind as the guardsmen marched them across the yard. There was no Lannister crimson to be seen, but Ned was lull by the number of gold cloaks visible on the ramparts and at the gates.\r\nJanos Slynt met them at the door to the throne room, armored in ornate black-and-gold plate, with a high-crested helm under one arm. The Commander bowed stiff. His men pushed open the gr eat oaken doors, twenty feet tall and tie with bronze.\r\nThe royal steward led them in. â€Å"All court His Grace, Joffrey of the Houses Baratheon and Lannister, the First of his Name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First handwritings, Lord of the septette Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm,” he sang out.\r\nIt was a broad walk to the far end of the hall, where Joffrey waited atop the push Throne. Supported by Littlefinger, Ned Stark slowly limped and hopped toward the boy who called himself king. The others followed. The first time he had come this way, he had been on horseback, sword in heap, and the Targaryen dragons had watched from the walls as he forced Jaime Lannister down from the throne. He wondered if Joffrey would step down quite so easily.\r\nFive knights of the Kingsguardâ€all but Ser Jaime and Ser Barristanâ€were arrayed in a crescent around the base of the throne. They were in full armor, enameled steel from helm to heel, long pale cl oaks over their shoulders, shining whiteness shields strapped to their left arms. Cersei Lannister and her two younger children stood behind Ser Boros and Ser Meryn. The milksop wore a gown of sea-green silk, trimmed with Myrish lace as pale as foam. On her finger was a golden ring with an emerald the size of a pigeons egg, on her head a matching tiara.\r\n higher up them, Prince Joffrey sat amidst the barbs and spikes in a cloth-of-gold doublet and a red satin cape. Sandor Clegane was stationed at the foot of the thrones steep narrow stair. He wore mail and soot-grey plate and his snarling dogs-head helm.\r\nBehind the throne, twenty Lannister guardsmen waited with longswords hanging from their belts. Crimson cloaks draped their shoulders and steel lions crested their helms. But Littlefinger had kept his promise; all along the walls, in front of Roberts tapestries with their scenes of hunt and battle, the gold-cloaked ranks of the City Watch stood stiffly to attention, each mans hand clasped around the haft of an eight-foot-long barb tipped in black iron. They outnumbered the Lannisters five to one.\r\nNeds leg was a blaze of pain by the time he stopped. He kept a hand on Littlefingers shoulder to help support his weight.\r\nJoffrey stood. His red satin cape was patterned in gold pull back; fifty roaring lions to one side, fifty prancing stags to the other. â€Å"I command the council to make all the necessary arrangements for my coronation,” the boy pro geted. â€Å"I wish to be crowned within the fortnight. Today I shall accept oaths of fealty from my true-blue councillors.”\r\nNed produced Roberts letter. â€Å"Lord Varys, be so kind as to show this to my lady of Lannister.”\r\nThe eunuch carried the letter to Cersei. The milksop glanced at the words. â€Å"Protector of the Realm,” she read. â€Å"Is this meant to be your shield, my lord? A piece of paper?” She ripped the letter in half, ripped the halves in quarter s, and let the pieces flutter to the floor.\r\nâ€Å"Those were the kings words,” Ser Barristan said, shocked.\r\nâ€Å"We have a new king now,” Cersei Lannister replied. â€Å"Lord Eddard, when last we spoke, you gave me some counsel. chuck up the sponge me to return the courtesy. Bend the knee, my lord. Bend the knee and confirm fealty to my son, and we shall allow you to step down as Hand and live out your days in the grey waste you call home.”\r\nâ€Å"Would that I could,” Ned said grimly. If she was so determined to force the issue here and now, she left him no choice. â€Å"Your son has no claim to the throne he sits. Lord Stannis is Roberts true heir.”\r\nâ€Å"liar!” Joffrey screamed, his face reddening.\r\nâ€Å"Mother, what does he mean?” Princess Myrcella asked the queen plaintively. â€Å"Isnt Joff the king now?”\r\nâ€Å"You condemn yourself with your own mouth, Lord Stark,” said Cersei Lannister. â€Å"S er Barristan, seize this traitor.”\r\nThe Lord Commander of the Kingsguard hesitated. In the blink of an eye he was surrounded by Stark guardsmen, bare steel in their mailed fists.\r\nâ€Å"And now the treason moves from words to deeds,” Cersei said. â€Å"Do you think Ser Barristan stands alone, my lord?” With an ominous rasp of metal on metal, the weenie drew his longsword. The knights of the Kingsguard and twenty Lannister guardsmen in crimson cloaks move to support him.\r\nâ€Å"Kill him!” the boy king screamed down from the Iron Throne. â€Å"Kill all of them, I command it!”\r\nâ€Å"You leave me no choice,” Ned told Cersei Lannister. He called out to Janos Slynt. â€Å"Commander, take the queen and her children into custody. Do them no harm, but escort them back to the royal apartments and keep them there, under guard.”\r\nâ€Å"Men of the Watch!” Janos Slynt bellowed, donning his helm. A hundred gold cloaks leveled the ir spears and closed.\r\nâ€Å"I want no bloodshed,” Ned told the queen. â€Å"Tell your men to lay down their swords, and no one needâ€â€\r\nWith a single sharp thrust, the nearest gold cloak drove his spear into Tomards back. Fat Toms blade dropped from debile fingers as the wet red point unwrap out through his ribs, piercing leather and mail. He was dead before his sword hit the floor.\r\nNeds shout came far too late. Janos Slynt himself slashed open Varlys throat. Cayn whirled, steel flashing, drove back the nearest spearman with a bother of blows; for an instant it looked as though he faculty cut his way free. Then the Hound was on him. Sandor Cleganes first cut took off Cayns sword hand at the wrist; his second drove him to his knees and opened him from shoulder to breastbone.\r\nAs his men died around him, Littlefinger slid Neds sticker from its sheath and shoved it up under his chin. His smile was apologetic. â€Å"I did warn you not to trust me, you kn ow.”\r\n'