Chapter 138 135

Lord Eddard Stark.

Within a minute the room held only the most influential and trusted men supporting King Stannis. Edmure Tully, as Lord Paramount of the Riverlands; Robb Stark, heir to Winterfell and a man of enormous authority in the army. The Young Wolf had been counted among the most capable commanders after the fighting in the Riverlands. Ser Davos, as the king's most trusted confidant; and Ned himself, who held the fractious army together. Only behind the king appeared an unexpected figure, one who had no business attending a council of this level. The red priestess, to the bewildered looks of everyone present, took her place at the king's right hand.

"Your Grace, what is the red priestess doing here?" Edmure objected.

"She is here at my invitation," Stannis said, closing the matter. "My lords, you remained to advise me, and nothing more."

"You are an experienced commander. You have been to Casterly Rock and you know the castle is impregnable. Commanders must inspire confidence in their men, but we cannot do that without knowing what gives you confidence in the success of this campaign."

"The sewers. We will pass through hidden passages and open the gates."

"Even if we find them, we will be stopped in the corridors. We will become bogged down and no amount of numbers will help us."

"We do not need to take the whole castle. It is enough to plunder it."

"Thereby stripping the Lannisters of both their gold and their reputation." Ned summarized, receiving a nod from the king. "I doubt Tywin would have left such a weakness in his ancestral seat."

"Inside the sewers there is a hidden passage of which Tywin Lannister is unaware," the king added.

"A passage that you know of but the castle's owner does not. That sounds unlikely," the newly made Lord Tully replied.

"King Stannis is the chosen of the Lord of Light, born amidst salt and smoke. And the Lord has shown him the path to victory," Melisandre spoke for the first time.

Ned could not believe what he was hearing and turned his eyes to the king. Stannis said nothing, which confirmed the priestess's words. They were risking everything on visions. Ned had no doubt that magic existed; his daughter was proof enough of that. But dozens of stories featuring this particular kind of magic spoke plainly of the dangers of prophecy.

Stark had never trusted supernatural forces, holding that wars were won by men and not by magic. And for all his love and trust in his daughter, he had never relied entirely on Elena's information, always preferring to keep a margin of caution. The one time he had not, he had ended up a prisoner. His son had saved the situation, routing and capturing the Kingslayer, but the experience had only hardened his view on magic.

"Risking our lives on the visions of fire-worshippers is madness! Ned, I will have no part in this!" Edmure declared flatly.

Edmure Tully had never been a great warrior, nor the most clever commander, nor a skilled diplomat. Lord Stark's good-brother was a brave and honorable man, but in Ned's own estimation an excessively naive and simple-hearted one. Fortunately Edmure knew his own limitations, and for that reason kept close to the one man he could trust completely: his brother-in-law, Eddard Stark.

For a man who did not believe in magic, the king's entire plan sounded like the ravings of a lunatic. And whatever trust Edmure placed in his good-brother, he was not prepared to take such a risk.

"History teaches us that visions have never led to anything good." Edmure was stunned that Ned was saying this with any seriousness. "One cannot place one's faith in supernatural forces. Wars are won by armies, fleets, and supply lines."

"King Stannis has no need of those. The Lord of Light stands behind him," the red witch answered, with an air of indulgence.

"And how many soldiers and ships does the Lord of Light command?" Receiving no answer, Eddard turned his gaze to Stannis. "I followed you to war. Without doubt, without hesitation. But I will not follow you in this. The king I swore to relied on his own mind, his judgment, and his experience, not on murky visions in a fire."

"Careful, Lord Stark, you may lose your head," Stannis replied, quietly, and he was angry. "We march on Casterly Rock and we will take it."

"I will have no hand in it. I do not intend to send thousands of men into a pointless slaughter." They held each other's eyes.

"You swore to me as your lawful king, and you will do as you are commanded." The tension in the hall was so thick that no one could find a word to put in edgewise.

"How are you better than the Mad King? He also believed everyone would carry out his every whim." When the king was compared to Aerys, his jaw tightened. "A King has not only privileges over his vassals but obligations. It seems you have forgotten that."

Ned had no desire to continue this pointless quarrel. Turning to leave, he found two pairs of eyes on him. Edmure's held approval and support. Robb's struck something discordant in his heart. In his heir's gaze he saw astonishment, joy, and pride. Despite what his son might think, Ned was not blind; he knew well enough how the boy felt about things. Robb had never warmed to Stannis and had long considered his father a tame wolf kept close to home.

Perhaps there was truth in that. Every man had his own truth. Ned himself saw nothing shameful in serving a king to whom he had sworn loyalty. Starks did not make promises they could not keep. Northerners would not make themselves into southerners who swore false oaths, for when men swore falsely, words lost all meaning. Lies bred more cunning lies, and those bred scheming and betrayal.

Robb and Edmure followed his lead and rose from the table. A moment before they reached the doors, a voice stopped them.

"Forgive me, my lords. Answer me one question."