Chapter 31 28

"I trust in your good sense and that you will understand the consequences of your actions." And there it was again, my father retreating in a conversation. He is without question a great man, but he cannot hold his ground when it matters, and that irritates me.

"I will. Do not worry. Now, continuing on, we could look for a wife in the Westerlands..." I was interrupted.

"No, we cannot. Whatever it may look like from the outside, that place has been a battlefield between the Lannisters and the Baratheons for years. Until recently the two factions at court were roughly balanced." My father held his hands out like a set of scales. "On one side: Robert, his brother and grandfather, the Masters of Ships and Laws, and myself as Hand of the King. On the other: the queen, Tywin Lannister, and the Grandmaester. But the balance tipped recently."

"The crown prince was born, and the Lannister faction gained sharply." My father nodded.

"And we began borrowing from the Lannisters." He added to my words. "So we were suddenly forced to claw back our position, and the Master of Coin was the first one to catch it. We will replace him with a better man."

"What pretext did you use to remove Staedmon?"

"Everyone knows about Robert's spending on tournaments and amusements, but no one speaks of Cersei's extravagance. Recently she bought up everything that arrived from Yi Ti, and it came to seventy thousand gold dragons. Only the king or the Hand has the authority to spend from the treasury, and he forgot that when he handed the money over to the queen." The intrigues here were something else entirely.

"I see. There is little point in marrying into the Vale, so that leaves the North, the Stormlands, and a royal match. Ned has a daughter now, perhaps her?" She was three years old, which meant I could roam freely for at least another ten years.

"No. Robert already claimed her for Joffrey." That was a disappointment.

"Then what is the point of this conversation? Let us come back to it in a couple of years. When does Robert return from his hunt?" Changing the subject at precisely the right moment was everything.

"He should be back today. Why?" My father suspected something.

"No reason. I simply have a promise to keep." It took considerable effort not to smile.

...

When Robert arrived he pulled me into a crushing embrace immediately, the kind that makes bones creak. In these years Rob had not changed much. He had grown a beard and added some weight. That was all. Perhaps he looked a touch older. The following morning I barged into his chambers and woke him. He started bellowing at me so loudly that the women in his bed scattered, but when I challenged him to a fight his warrior's pride was touched and he went to the training yard without further argument.

If a few years of peacetime had softened Robert, it had not been by much. He swung that spiked warhammer of his as though it weighed nothing. I had to keep moving away from his strikes and look for counters, but he gave me very little to work with. I had the better technique, but he had the strength, and in the end the hammer caught me in the chest. Still, it was not a complete defeat. Before that I had marked strikes which in a real fight would have left a man bleeding out.

After the bout we went to breakfast, where Cersei Lannister caught my eye. She was beautiful, strikingly so, and spoke well and precisely, but there was a falseness underneath it all. They showed me Prince Joffrey, a sweet-looking child with golden hair and green eyes. I managed to play with him briefly before the queen saw fit to send me away.

My father wanted me to sit in on Small Council meetings in order to learn how to govern. So he suggested I become Robert's cupbearer, which would give me a legitimate reason to be present at the sessions. I personally could not see why things needed to be made so complicated, so I simply asked Robert directly. He grumbled and warned me it was dull and nothing useful ever happened there, but he agreed and issued the order.

Robert, unfortunately, was right. Nothing of importance happened. The Baratheon faction sat to the right of the Hand, the Lannister faction to the left. The last man officially belonging to neither was the Master of Whisperers, Varys the Spider. He was dressed in an orange Myrish robe with wide sleeves and soft leather slippers, his footsteps so quiet they were nearly impossible to catch.

The session could best be described as a tug of war with money in place of the rope. They argued over taxes, trade tariffs, the royal fleet, roads, and the prices of goods. The only thing I found genuinely interesting was the stirring of the Greyjoys. The Ironborn were building ships at a vigorous pace. The Lannisters were building ships. The Redwynes too. Everyone was building ships. From what the assembled lords could piece together, the Iron Islands would rise in rebellion within a year or two. That was the sum of it. I came away with a complete understanding that without firm, centralizing authority the Small Council was nothing but a talking hall. I did not go back.

...

Two months later the Ironborn rose. Balon Greyjoy proclaimed himself King of the Iron Islands and his first act was to burn Lannisport to ash. King Robert Baratheon called his banners immediately to punish the rebel and restore the King's Peace. It was there that Axel Arryn earned his epithet: Falcon's Eye.