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I’m surrounded by self-serving fools.
Stannis surveyed the scene before him, barely keeping his frustration in check. If he were the kind of man to fall into despair, he would have drowned in it long ago, knowing the likes of the men on King Robert’s Small Council who ruled the kingdom.
Ser Barristan was sitting in his chair like a white statue, his snow white cloak trailing on the floor. The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard also spoke as often as a statue, unless business traveled to matters that directly involved the king’s safety or that of his immediate family. A true member of the Kingsguard, but utterly useless at council meetings.
Renly, at sixteen, was the newest member of the council, though he had as much interest in his position as Master of Laws as Stannis did in drinking and whoring. And about as much knowledge of the laws and the courts of the realm as well. Why Robert deemed Renly fit to be on the council was lost to Stannis, though he suspected that the same logic that caused Robert to name a six year old child the lord of Storm’s End was at work.
Varys’ hands were neatly folded on the table, peeking out of his lavender silk and brocade robe. He was giving his undivided attention to Petyr Baelish, who was explaining an addendum to the city’s tax code that Robert had apparently given his full support toward. Not that Robert deems such matters important enough to actually show his face in council, for evidentially writing and enforcing laws doesn’t fit into his definition of a dutiful king.
“…concluded that the current tax laws are too harsh on the city’s pleasure houses, and thus actions should be taken to lower those taxes to ensure their continued survival. Not to mention the well being of the citizens of King’s Landing, who…”
“Tell me, Lord Baelish,” began Stannis, cutting off Littlefinger’s silky smooth voice, “How will your proposal to essentially eliminate taxes from whorehouses do anything to erase the debt that the Iron Throne is accumulating at an alarming rate?”
Littlefinger smiled and nodded in Stannis’ direction.
“You should have waited for me to finish, Lord Stannis. To balance out decreasing the tax burden on pleasure houses, taxes will be increased for certain industries that have gotten away with paying the Iron Throne its rightful share of their profits. Additionally…”
“So you are switching the tax burden so your personal coffers would be augmented, among other things?” He looked at the rest of the council members. “Are the king and the rest of you lords completely blind to what Lord Baelish is doing?”
“If those with the gold make the rules, they might as well make the rules profitable to themselves.” There was a manic glint in Littlefinger’s eyes.
Before Stannis could reply, Varys was quick to agree. “It is always in the best interests of the realm for its leaders to be living well and not have their minds burdened by trivial matters of finances.”
“Additionally,” continued Littlefinger calmly, giving Stannis a patronizing look, “If my lord is worried about the decrease in tax revenue from the pleasure houses on his lands, I’m sure the council can make an exception so you aren’t made destitute in the future.”
“You know very well that there are no such establishments on Dragonstone. And it would be wise to take actions to eliminate them all together.” And being the Lord of Dragonstone isn’t as destitute a position as you might wish, albeit Dragonstone is far, far from being Storm’s End. I’m still a Baratheon and the king’s brother, which is more than you’ll ever say for yourself.
“That old argument? Just because you’ve outlawed such places on your small island doesn’t mean that the rest of the kingdom would benefit from the same actions. Is there anything inherently evil in men taking pleasure from beautiful women? Or are you adverse to whores simply because the least attractive one is still more comely than your wife?”
Renly chuckled. Stannis would have slapped him if he wasn’t sitting on the other side of the table. After he had strangled Littlefinger, who was smirking and clearly expecting some type of reaction from Stannis. I will not give him any sort of satisfaction.
Stannis looked with longing at Jon Arryn’s empty chair, wishing that the Hand could be here to talk some more sense into Littlefinger. Lord Arryn certainly had a better reason than Robert for being absent from the council, Stannis conceded grudgingly. Lady Arryn had recently suffered another miscarriage, and Jon felt it prudent to spend some time comforting her.
“My lords,” said Stannis through gritted teeth, “Regardless of what the king thinks of this measure, a simple cost-benefit analysis from any of our clerks would show that the Crown simply can’t afford to take such an action. And redistributing the tax burden would only serve to further anger hardworking men in respectable professions. Barring any further protests from the Master of Coin, we should revisit this matter when our Lord Hand is able to join us again.”
“A tragedy about what happened to Lady Arryn,” chimed in Maester Pycelle. “But I fear there was nothing much I could do to help her.”
“A tragedy indeed,” echoed Littlefinger, and the sorrowful expression on his face looked sincere. Almost. Varys nodded along vigorously.
“In the meantime,” continued Stannis, “I recently received a troubling letter from Lord Manderly. He claims that a pirate ring is wreaking havoc to the trade at White Harbor, and he asks for the Crown’s support due to who he believes is at fault.” With all the attention that Littlefinger and Varys gave the whorehouse taxes, Stannis wondered how the pair would respond to a matter of realm security—especially one brought up by a distant northern lord who was not a regular at court.
“How dreadful,” softly exclaimed Varys.
Varys could give Littlefinger a run for his money in a competition of false sincerity, mused Stannis.
“Indeed, Lord Varys,” replied Stannis in as level a voice as he could manage. “Lord Manderly has written in great detail about the case. Apparently, these pirates only attack in the night and only attack ships flying Manderly’s merman sigil. If the pirates were interested in rich cargo, why not target one of the number of ships sailing in and out from the Free Cities? As well, the pirates do not seem too interested in stealing ships either, for most of Manderly’s missing ships have been found wrecked.”
“How dreadful,” said Maester Pycelle. And thus another trained crow croaks again.
“Additionally, Manderly believes that the Borrell lords of the Three Sisters are behind the attacks, in retaliation for some longstanding grievance or another. In any case, he wrote to me, as Master of Ships, requesting help in investigating the attacks and in bringing the Borrells to justice, if they are truly the perpetrators behind the attacks.”
Renly joined in the conversation, with a slightly confused look on his face. “Why should the king do anything about Lord Manderly’s case? Manderly is a bannerman to Lord Stark, he should petition Winterfell first.”
“And what could Lord Stark do?” questioned Stannis. “The lords of the Three Sisters are sworn to the Arryns of the Vale; Lord Stark has no jurisdiction over them.”
“Then Lord Manderly should petition Lord Arryn to bring his subjects to heel!”
“It does not work that way, Renly, as you should know and as Lord Arryn would tell you if he were here. Knowing that Lord Arryn was under no obligation to help him, and that Lord Stark’s power was limited, he requested help from the king. He’s acting fully within his rights in his search for justice. It’s the king’s duty to settle conflicts between overlords, so they do not end up calling their banners and fighting each other.”
Maester Pycelle then raised his voice, stroking his long white beard. “Lord Renly’s reservations about helping Manderly do have merit, though.”
“They do, do they?” replied Stannis with a slight edge to his voice. Renly looked slightly surprised, having thought that his brother’s answers had rendered his argument null.
“Why of course,” affirmed Pycelle. “What evidence do we have to support Lord Manderly’s claim?”
“We have his word, which given the circumstances is enough to…”
“Enough to send the royal fleet to the Three Sisters and hang some suspicious men? I never thought that you would do something as rash as that, Lord Stannis,” answered Littlefinger.
“Please refrain from putting words into my mouth, Lord Baelish.” I’m sure Robert would do something as rash as that, and men would praise him for being a just king because of it. “It’s not like this council has agreed to take on cases with even less evidence. I recall not even a year ago when Lord Tywin claimed that the Greyjoys had maliciously sunk one of his ships, when all the evidence clearly pointed to the ship simply sinking from a malevolent gale that left many other ships suck or damaged. Yet because it was Lord Tywin making the claim, Robert declared that we should just agree with him and pay for the ship as a gesture of friendship.”
Varys, eyes wide with concern at Stannis’ last comment, responded: “Lord Tywin is a great friend to the king, and the Small Council decided to make an exception so as not to anger him. We had best not forget that.”
“The queen is a Lannister,” stoically added Ser Barristan.
As if I’m blind to that fact. I’m reminded of that every time I set eyes on Robert’s heir, with his golden hair and malicious green eyes.
“Very well, my lords,” said Stannis at last. “If it’s more evidence you want, then I will provide evidence. Then the council will give me leave to take the royal fleet to the Three Sisters to carry out justice. ” His last three words were directed at Littlefinger, hoping to emphasize the fact that he was concerned first and foremost with justice, not hanging men, even if they rightfully deserved it.
~
The next day, Stannis met with Jon Arryn in the Hand’s solar to discuss Lord Manderly’s pirate issue. This time he would be guaranteed to have an audience who wouldn’t second guess and argue about everything he proposed. As he expected, Jon was in agreement with him that the Iron Throne should certainly take action. Additionally, Jon felt that it would reflect badly upon himself as Lord of the Eyrie if one of his bannermen was allowed to get away with flouting the king’s law.
“I’ll give them their damn evidence, though that still won’t appease them.”
“It’s not simply about evidence,” reminded Jon. “To get what you want, you need to emphasize the ramifications about what could happen if the Iron Throne just sits back and lets the matter go unresolved.”
Stannis sighed, as Jon continued: “Or, if Robert can be convinced to attend the council meeting that day, you can always appeal to his great affection for Lord Eddard Stark.”
“And imply that Robert’s dear friend Ned Stark could be in danger if his bannerman keeps getting attacked?” Stannis considered this. If Robert was like to do anything to keep Tywin Lannister appeased, would he do the same for his brother-in-all-but-name? Probably.
“That could certainly work. On that line of thought, it’s a shame that many of the lords above the Neck—including Stark—don’t interact with the Iron Throne more often, for a perceived threat to Ned Stark would certainly be enough to get Robert’s attention, if not get him to demand immediate action.”
Jon smiled. “Why don’t you sail north and do the investigation yourself? No one will fault you from taking one of your own ships and your own men.”
“Naturally, for if anything goes wrong I will be the one who gets the blame, rather than the Iron Throne.” Stannis noticed that Jon was giving him an amused look. “Not that I am trying to shirk any of my duties as Master of Ships, but I have other reasons why I do not wish to sail north myself.”
“Oh?”
“I am not the best man for the job,” said Stannis simply.
“Truly? You did an admirable job in utterly destroying the Iron Fleet during Lord Greyjoy’s rebellion.”
Stannis snorted. At least Jon was sincere when he flattered others, unlike most people he knew. “Yes, I know how to lead a fleet into battle. But that’s very different from routing out pirates from their haunts, especially along seacoasts that I have only a passing familiarity with.”
“We have lots of men who know these coasts well.”
“But simply knowing the coasts won’t bring us any closer to figuring out why certain ships are never making it to White Harbor.” Stannis began to pace around the room, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. “We need a man who knows the seas as well in darkness as in daylight, as well in fog as in a raging storm. A man who knows how pirates think, and who can outwit them at their own game.”
“Do you have someone in mind? A captain of the city’s naval watch, perhaps?” suggested Jon.
Stannis’ mouth twitched.
~
“Ser Davos, it is always a pleasure to see you, as your lord always speaks most highly of you.”
Lord Arryn was wearing a handsome sky-blue cloak clasped with a silver falcon pin, and overall he looked every inch the king’s Hand. Davos knew he must look shabby by comparison, but he didn’t care overmuch about his clothes as long as they were functional. To Stannis, a man’s actions and the words that came out of his mouth were worth more than the quality of cloth that he wore on his back. That was something that Davos was grateful for.
Davos glanced at Stannis, who was sitting behind his desk with his arms crossed and a blank expression on his face. Well, no expression at all is certainly better than the scowl he usually wears.
“I thank you, my Lord Hand. You are too kind.”
Lord Arryn gave Davos an easy smile as he rose from his chair and clasped his hand in welcome. “I do hope your wife and sons are well. I take the weather is agreeable at Cape Wrath during the summer?”
Davos blinked. “My lady is well, the last I heard, though I came to the Red Keep directly from Dragonstone, where…”
“Where his older sons are serving with my fleet,” finished Stannis. “I did not summon Ser Davos here simply to exchange pleasantries with him.”
Arryn shrugged and gave another smile. “Harmless courtesies.”
Stannis looked as if he had a derisive reply at the ready, but after his eyes traveled to Lord Arryn and himself, Stannis contented himself with a sigh.
~
Some time later, after Davos heard Lord Manderly’s letter read to him in its entirety and his lords’ views on the matter, a flash of inspiration came to him.
“Why, it’s obvious what these pirates are doing, and there’s no doubt in my mind that the Borrells are behind it.”
Stannis and Lord Arryn looked at each other. When neither gave an immediate response, Davos continued.
“The Borrells are playing the night lamp game.”
“Why do you think that, and what makes you so confident?” asked Lord Arryn.
“Before I was a knight, I would often dock my ship on Sweetsister, for the place is…ah…a haven for men wishing to avoid the law, for the Sistermen only enforce it when it suits their purposes. It’s a badly kept secret among the folk on the islands that the Borrells will extinguish one or all of the night lamps on the islands from time to time, in hopes of causing a ship to crash. Or else false night lamps will be lit in different locations to lure ships to an unsafe bit of coastline that’s obscured in the dark or the fog.”
He paced up and down the length of Stannis’ solar.
“Does one of my lords have a detailed map of the Bite, as I told Maester Cressen to request in my reply to Lord Stannis’ summons?”
Stannis gave a small nod and gestured to a small pile of rolled parchments on his desk.
Thank the gods that I can read maps, or else I’d look like an utter fool.
When Davos found the map he wanted, he weighted down the corners and started collecting candles from around the room (and there were a lot of candles, testament to the long hours his lord spent working in this room), placing them at various location on the map. All the while, he kept up a running commentary about all the times he had sailed around the Bite. If Stannis minded him dislodging candles from their rightful holders, he didn’t say anything, though his deep blue eyes did follow his every move.
When everything was in place, Davos circled the desk to survey his handiwork once more before addressing his lords.
“Here we have it. I’ll wager that false lamps are being lit, since Lord Manderly made no mention of them being absent altogether. The black candles are where the night lamps usually are, and the white candles are possible locations for false lamps. The map doesn’t show it, but the waters near the white candles are deceptively shallow and have rocks just below the surface. The red candles I have near White Harbor and on the coastline around the Bite are decent locations for ships to hide, if our criminals aren’t all located on the island. I’ve used some of the hiding places myself.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Davos could see that Stannis was smirking at Lord Arryn. It has to be a smirk, for he isn’t frowning and he certainly isn’t smiling. Eventually, after Davos had finished explaining himself, Stannis spoke. “Does my Lord Hand still think I am the best man for the job now?”
“You got off easy this time, Lord Stannis,” conceded Lord Arryn. “Though this matter isn’t over yet.”
Before Davos could ask what matter the two were referring to, Stannis spoke again:
“Ser Davos, I trust you to be able to figure out where these pirates are operating from and the exact nature of the game that they are playing. If you can riddle out names and pinpoint any individuals directly in charge of them, even better, for it will be all the easier to make arrests in the name of the law and the king when the council gives me leave to sail the royal fleet north for that purpose.”
“I’ll certainly try my best, my lord.”
“I am not asking you to try. I am asking you to succeed.”
Davos’ eyes met Stannis’, which were as hard as ever. He’s asking me to do what he probably wishes he was capable of doing himself.
“I give you leave to pick a crew of your own choosing, as well as any knights in my service that you feel will be helpful. Take your own ship, the Lady Marya, and fly your own banner.”
“My onion ship banner?” asked Davos, a bit puzzled. “Why not your own, since I’m sailing north for your purposes?”
His lord looked annoyed, though in an amused sort of way. “I thought you would grasp the reason as quickly as you deduced the night lamp game. My own sigil and the royal sigil are one and the same. A ship flying a black ship on grey should be able to sail all over the Bite unnoticed, and the same amount of attention will be given to its crew should you decide to dock your ship and make investigations on land. Whereas a ship whose sails have a stag prancing on a field of gold…”
Davos could have kicked himself for his stupidity. He wondered if there would ever come a day when maesters would see fit to teach children the sigil of House Seaworth, if his sons and future grandsons would be lucky enough to keep the name and lands that Lord Stannis had gifted him with. “Though,” added Davos as an afterthought, “What puzzles me is how the Sistermen know that one of Manderly’s ships is going to sail through the Bite and perchance be lured by the false lights.”
“How would you do it?” wondered Stannis.
“To be honest, I have no idea. Smugglers don’t tend to wreck ships, my lord.”
Lord Arryn gave a small grin. Stannis scowled.
~
A couple turns of the moon later, Davos found himself walking down the corridors of the Red Keep with his lord, on the way to the day’s Small Council meeting. His mission to the Three Sisters had been successful, and Davos had indeed been able to riddle out the nefarious deeds and names that Stannis wanted. He had rather enjoyed the mission, if he was honest with himself, for he was reminded of his days as a smuggler. There would always be a thrill for him in maneuvering a ship to hidden coves, in listening in on conversations in taverns, and in figuring out how to outwit an adversary. Though, of course, he was on the side of the law this time around. And he always felt at home on a ship, unlike now—for Stannis had insisted that Davos present his findings to the Small Council.
“Are you sure that you couldn’t present my findings yourself, my lord? The council will give you more credence than me, and I fear I don’t know the first thing about what to say lords such as these, especially if the king is present.” And they’ll respect you more than they respect me. And I know that what I say can and will probably be twisted against me.
Davos’ hesitation seemed to amuse Stannis.
“I never thought that a smuggler who risked certain death to save my garrison would be fearful about explaining the truth to a group of men who like to think they are more deserving of praise than they actually are.”
Davos met Stannis’ eyes.
“While I might be familiar with the perils of the sea, I am unfamiliar with the perils of councils that take place away from Dragonstone’s painted table.”
“You have nothing to worry about, Ser Davos. Lords are not the only ones who are invited to council meetings, you know. Men who play a key role in the decisions are often brought in, such as knights who are reporting on a mission for the Iron Throne, much like you do with me, contractors justifying a cost estimate, the list can go on. What you have to say has merit, and by talking to the council you can help me grant justice where it is due.”
The two men continued walking.
“Let me give you a run-down on these fearsome men and how council meetings usually go.”
As smoothly as sailing a flimsy sailboat through a storm, perhaps?
“Littlefinger, Varys, and Renly begin council by unnecessary exchanging platitudes with each other, while Maester Pycelle dozes until Lord Arryn arrives. Usually we do not even bother to wait for Robert, for his Grace is constantly occupied with other matters. When he does deem it worth his while to attend, he usually gives us advance warning.”
“Should I expect to see the king in council today?”
Stannis snorted. I’ll take that as a no, then.
“The most fearsome man with a sword is Ser Barristan, but that is to be expected from the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. Unless you declare that you intend to smuggle the queen out of the castle before nightfall or harm the king, I doubt he will say anything.” Stannis’ voice was neutral.
“And the men without swords?”
“Lord Baelish has an eye for gold, given his track record as a successful customs official at Gulltown, but ultimately he’s too greedy for his own good. All he seems to care about are his whorehouses, when he isn’t making eyes at Jon Arryn’s wife.”
Davos raised an eyebrow at that, which Stannis noticed.
“You think that’s an uncalled for accusation? Perhaps it is, but the amount of red haired, blue eyed women seen in his company certainly should not go unnoticed. Lord Arryn has always been fond of him, which I never understood why.” He ground his teeth.
“Varys, now, he’s the one to be the most worried about because he doesn’t have as many obvious weaknesses as Littlefinger. He goes on and on about he serves ‘the realm,’ but I would love to put a sword to his throat and ask him what his definition of ‘the realm’ truly is.”
“I’ve heard it said that he wears more perfume than the queen.”
“Aye, I’d believe that, and I wager he owns more silk robes than my lady wife. Not that she lacks for clothes befitting her station.”
Davos chuckled at that, though Stannis’ face remained just as expressionless as ever.
“And your younger brother? Surely you’re pleased to have Lord Renly on the council now?”
Stannis grimaced. “The only positive thing I have to say about Renly being on the Small Council is that his surname is ‘Baratheon,’ so he generally cares about and advocates things that are beneficial to Robert or Storm’s End. Better him than a Lannister or Lannister bannerman, though he has been consorting with the Tyrells, which is almost as bad. Renly does not seem to remember how the Tyrells tried to starve him to death.”
“Perhaps he’s forgiven them, after so many years,” said Davos with a shrug.
“Forgiveness is not an excuse for forgetting. Do you remember how Robert tried to make me marry one of Mace Tyrell’s sisters, which would have made Mace Tyrell mine own good-brother?”
Davos did remember that, and the embittered rants that Stannis made on the subject, even after he had flatly refused the king. “Yes, I recall you asserting that joining the Night’s Watch would be a more agreeable prospect.”
“I still hold to that, for at least there’s still some honorable men left on the Wall. I recently heard from Jon that Ned Stark’s younger brother joined the Night’s Watch, so I expect that someday soon there will be a Stark Lord Commander on the Wall.”
“Surely you have nothing negative to say about Lord Jon Arryn. He’s always tirelessly working to keep the realm together, and you and he work closely on a number of matters.”
“No more closely than he works with Robert. I have deep admiration for our Lord Hand, and he’s king in all but name. However, he’s too easy going for his own good and tries too hard to compromise.”
“If I may be so bold, my lord, isn’t that what politics is all about? Compromise?”
Stannis was silent for a moment, as he considered the question. “But not at the expense of the integrity of the law. If a member of the Kingsguard kills his king, the law declares that his life is forfeit. Is there any room for compromise in that?” He ground his teeth once again. “But apparently there is an unwritten addendum to the law that states that if the Kingsguard knight in question is from a powerful family that needs to be appeased…well, we both know what happened to Ser Jaime Lannister.”
When Davos spotted the door to the council chambers, guarded by a Kingsguard knight, he patted his luck, which was safely tucked under his doublet. He had made sure to wear the handsome grey cloak trimmed with black fur that Stannis had gifted him with upon receiving his knighthood. Davos rarely wore the thing, except on those rare occasions when he had to deal with or be in the company of lords other than his own. Appearances were everything, though thankfully his lord could care less about them. I suppose I could include Lord Arryn, knowing the favorable regard he has for me. And Lord Stark as well, for he seemed to genuinely respect me on the couple occasions where I met him. If it weren’t for King Robert, perhaps Stannis and Stark would be friends.
~
For the second time in as many months, Davos thanked the Seven that he knew how to interpret maps. Not only would he look a fool in front of the Small Council, but it would reflect badly upon his lord, he felt. One of these days I will learn how to read properly, no matter if most landed knights like myself rely on stewards to read and write for them—or maesters if they are lucky enough to have access to one.
Davos had a map spread out in the middle of the council table, the same map of the Bite and Three Sisters that he had used to discuss the matter with Stannis and Lord Arryn. Key locations of illicit activity had been marked. In addition, Davos passed around a handful of letters that one of his archers had captured from ravens flying towards the Three Sisters from said locations of illicit activity.
Ravens. That’s how the Sistermen had known that a Manderly ship would be passing by the Three Sisters; ravens sent from secret coves near White Harbor and on the northern and southern edges of the Bite.
Things are going well. No one has asked me a question that I’ve been unable to answer, and no one had questioned the validity of my claims.
He spied Littlefinger scratching his small beard, a thoughtful look on his face as he glanced at Stannis, who currently had his arms crossed and a hard look on his face.
Yet.
“I must admit, this whole story is very interesting, but I still have some reservations.”
Littlefinger paused for effect, and when no one—including Stannis, whose eyes had narrowed—responded, he continued, turning toward Davos. “How do we know that this isn’t the work of one of the more notorious pirates in Westeros, like Salladhor Saan? Isn’t he one of your friends, Ser Davos?”
“That is not relevant to this discussion,” stated Stannis in a cold voice, before Davos could even open his mouth to reply.
“Oh, I think it is,” added Renly eagerly. The golden stag brooch on his rich green cloak glinted. “We can’t have knights of the realm working in collusion with disreputable folk, even if they do save our lives with onions on occasion.”
Stannis gave Renly a withering look, and his posture was more tense than usual. Davos suspected that Stannis would enjoy nothing more than to have a member of the Kingsguard drag Renly out of the council chamber by the scruff of his neck—or better yet, to do the deed himself.
“Renly, do you think I would knowingly keep men in my service who break the law and convene with criminals on a regular basis?”
The young lord of Storm’s End averted his eyes.
“Furthermore, I know for a fact that Salladhor Saan is not doing any outright pirating or smuggling in Westeros at the moment, or since Robert took the throne.”
Davos was faintly surprised at that, though he kept his expression neutral.
“His business affairs in King’s Landing, Oldtown, Lannisport, or whichever port he calls on have been perfectly legal. I should know, I have had my agents audit his accounts on a number of occasions, and I have personally inspected a number of his ships. Believe me; I have tried to catch him in some misdemeanor. If he is pirating and selling stolen goods in the Free Cities, there is nothing I can do to him, as the Free Cities are not under the jurisdiction of Westerosi law.”
Ah, Salla is probably anxious about doing anything illegal in Westeros now that Stannis is Master of Ships, for Stannis is much cleverer than the men King Aerys Targaryen had in charge of shipping customs and naval security.
Renly simply shrugged. “I’ll take your word on that, brother, for I do know that you’re infamous for giving thieves, traitors, and smugglers their just deserves when you can catch them.” Renly’s eyes moved from Stannis to Davos.
On the surface, Renly’s comment sounded to all the world like a compliment, but Davos could sense the snide undertones in it. Renly made it sound as if Stannis took some vindictive pleasure in torturing criminals, and that he had perhaps relished the chance to cleave the tips of Davos’ fingers off all those years ago. Stannis was simply concerned about justice when I lost my fingertips, nothing more. Do the Baratheon brothers do anything else other than snipe at each other on this council? What on earth happens when King Robert is present at the same time?
“Ser Davos, will you tell the council why Salladhor Saan could not be involved in the attacks?” asked Lord Arryn, attempting to steer the conversation back on track.
“Yes, my Lord Hand,” began Davos, grateful for Lord Arryn’s question. “Manderly’s pirates scuttle ships at night and rarely bestir themselves to be seen at all, as they hide behind their false night lamps and in their hidden coves. Salladhor Saan is…as flamboyant as Lord Renly…ostentatious in his appearance and in how he pirates. He wants his victims to know that they are being pirated by one of his striped Lysene ships, likely one named Salladhor Saan. No, this is not his work.”
Davos was tempted to add that Salla wouldn’t be wasting his time wrecking Manderly’s ships, not when there were richer prizes to come by. But the council didn’t need to know that, and he certainly didn’t want to give the impression that he was working with the man. Though Salla occasionally called on his keep on Cape Wrath and brought gifts for his sons, that was as far as their friendship went these days. Lord Stannis had seen to that, and Davos had no desire to do otherwise.
“That clears the matter up, then,” said Stannis tersely. “Ser Davos, please continue where you left off, before this council got off track.” Davos saw Stannis flash a glare towards Littlefinger, whose eyebrows rose innocently in response.
“As I finished explaining with my map and letters, you’ll be hard pressed to find a better reason for Manderly’s troubles, my lords. I have a number of knights willing to attest to all the things that I’ve said, among those the king’s cousin Ser Andrew Estermont. I’ve gathered enough names of those involved, and while I can’t directly tie them to one of the Three Sisters’ lords, we can catch some of the perpetrators in action if the royal fleet moves quickly.”
“Ser Davos,” nodded Maester Pycelle, “While I do thank you and your lord for your exemplary work on this matter, I would hesitate to invest the crown’s time and resources when we have other important naval matters at hand.”
“Pray tell us, Grand Maester, as I am unaware of any such matters. Unless you still believe the Greyjoy Rebellion to be occurring?” Stannis shot right back.
So it seems that Stannis can trade insults with these people after all.
Maester Pycelle stroked his long white beard, pontificating. “Lord Tywin is complaining of reavers on the western shores, and he wishes the royal fleet…”
“Lord Tywin is always complaining of reavers, though,” said Renly. “That’s why he maintains a fleet, to protect Casterly Rock and his trade interests in Lannisport. The crown had to borrow money from him to pay for the new ship we agreed to give him not too long ago. Lord Tyrell, though, has been concerned about the security around Oldtown, for his bannermen have suffered many losses due to…”
“Due to storms in the Arbor Straits and floods on the Honeywine. Lord Hightower usually has the sense to write to the Iron Throne if he does not have the men to defend himself against a rouge ship from the Free Cities, but he usually does,” countered Stannis.
“My lords,” interjected Lord Arryn, “It’s been established that many other lords would wish the royal fleet to help them. The fleet can’t be everywhere at once, and it takes time to investigate claims to make sure they’re legitimate. From what Ser Davos has presented today, Lord Manderly has a legitimate claim, and he’s in a bit of a legal predicament because his adversaries are men belonging to one of my bannermen. I’m going to give Lord Stannis consent to take the royal fleet north, though I would prefer to do it with the support of the rest of you.”
There was a short silence, before Varys entered the discussion after having been curiously silent for quite some time.
“I believe that this council should consider the lord making the claim as much as the legitimacy of the claim. The Iron Throne has limited resources, and though Lord Stannis keeps the royal fleet in good order and his new shipping custom laws augment the crown’s coffers, might it be more profitable to help Lord Tywin or Lord Tyrell over Lord Manderly? When has Manderly ever come to court? The North is the poorest region of Westeros, and the least likely to come to the aid of King’s Landing should the city ever be attacked because it’s simply quite far away.”
It’s quicker to get a ship to King’s Landing from White Harbor than from Lannisport, though, if the capitol ever needs more ships, mused Davos, spotting a flaw in the argument. He would have told Stannis that, if Varys’ words had been Stannis’. But they weren’t, and his presence on the council was to report his findings, not argue about the allocation of the crown’s resources.
“Lord Varys, are you part of the king’s council, or are you not?” pointedly asked Stannis.
“I am but a humble servant of the realm, who just happens to be on the king’s council. So it seems that my answer is yes.”
“What do you think our purpose is, to sell justice to the highest bidder?”
Stannis re-crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes again.
“We should care about the realm, Lord Varys, as you never tire of reminding us. The North is part of the realm. I am sure that if I told King Robert that his dear friend Ned Stark was threatened he would back me.”
“Lord Eddard Stark…” said a voice, but Davos couldn’t catch whose.
“Helped put our king on the Iron Throne and commands the loyalty of the entire North. Surely that’s just as important to keep in mind as the fact that Lord Tywin is good-father to the king, regardless of distance?”
Lord Arryn had a small smile forming on his face. The mention of Stark seemed to have a powerful effect on the council, and even Ser Barristan seemed alert to the matter at hand.
Eventually, Littlefinger spoke up. “I believe, my lords, that we should concede to Lord Stannis on this matter, given that our Lord Hand has already voiced his support. I would not wish Lord Manderly to complain to Lord Stark about the insensitivity of the Iron Throne. Our good King Robert holds Lord Stark in high esteem for fighting at his side many times—and for saving Storm’s End from the Tyrell siege.”
Davos disliked the smug look on Littlefinger’s face. He was even gladder than before that he didn’t have to deal with the man on a frequent basis like his lord did. That last comment had no purpose other than to anger Stannis, and possibly get a rise out of me. A glance toward Stannis showed him that Littlefinger’s slight had been clearly heard, but didn’t deserve a response.
“You have the king’s leave to do what you wish with the royal fleet to carry out the king’s justice, Lord Stannis,” said Lord Arryn with a tone of finality. “And you too, Ser Davos, may you continue to be of service to the Iron Throne. Council dismissed.”
~
Lord Manderly was a whale of a man, and Davos felt sorry for the magnificent war horse that Manderly was sitting on. The poor thing likely needs a rest, though all it did was transport Lord Manderly from the New Castle to the harbor.
Lord Manderly had come to greet Lord Stannis and the royal fleet, to discuss the recent occurrences at the Three Sisters and the future defense of the White Harbor against sea threats. Using Davos’ information, Stannis had caught a number of criminals red-handed at the sites of false night lamps, and in the secret coves where a number of ravens that homed to the Three Sisters were residing as well. Stannis was satisfied with what he was able to accomplish, though Lord Godric Borrell of Sweetsister had been less than pleased at the presence of the royal fleet in his port—not that Davos harbored any sympathy for the man, given his conduct.
“Many fine men were hung today, Lord Stannis Baratheon,” spat Lord Borrell. “You should be ashamed of yourself. And you too, ser,” he said, nodding at Davos.
“Why should I be ashamed, Lord Borrell?” replied Davos before he could stop himself. “Many innocent men have died due to the false night lamps, men who were killed without being given the choice of the noose or the Wall.”
“I merely meant to say that perhaps you might have had some sympathy for your former friends. Many of the men who were hung were men like you, and you helped orchestrate their capture.”
Davos could feel young Ser Andrew Estermont’s hand tightly grip his shoulder. It wasn’t necessary, though. Davos had no inclination of saying anything more to the Sisterman, no matter how many more insults he dared throw. Or, of gods forbid, doing something out of character like attack the man.
“You heard my judgment,” said Stannis steadily. “Those men were caught red-handed and were found guilty of flouting the king’s law and maliciously wrecking the ships of a lord who has caused you no harm.”
“No harm? The Manderlys and the North have always spat upon the Sisters.”
“You would be singing a decidedly different tune if I had been able to implicate you in this night lamp business. Yes, you claim ignorance, but I find it hard to believe that you can call yourself a lord of these islands and not be aware of what is actually happening on them. That’s negligent leadership.”
“You dare say that I’m negligent? What good is the word of a lord who consorts with criminals and relies upon them to do his work for him?”
Davos could feel Stannis bristle beside him, and he saw him give Lord Borrell such a long, hard, cold stare that the pompous lord was visibly beginning to wither. And he stared. And he stared. And he stared.
“I do not consort with criminals, Lord Borrell. I consort with knights. You had best remember that. If I ever receive word that a night lamp has gone dark, I will personally see to it that you are hung, and that your body is left to rot. That’s no more than you deserve.”
Stannis quickly turned on his heel and headed back towards his Fury, not sparing the now trembling lord a second glance.
“I will honor you and your men with a feast this evening, in thanks for the great service you have done for the city. Any matters of state will be discussed on the morrow.”
“That is not necessary, Lord Manderly,” said Stannis stiffly.
Manderly gave a wave of his hand. “Most things in life aren’t necessary, but I like to indulge in them anyway.”
“I do not require a feast to be held in my honor. I was simply doing my duty to protect the realm.”
“Then think of the feast as my way of giving you southerners a taste of northern hospitality! Be sure to tell your beloved brother King Robert of the magnificence of the Merman’s Court, and that Wyman Manderly still has the trident he fought with on the Battle of the Trident!”
Davos saw Stannis tense at the mention of the king, but the fat lord didn’t seem to notice.
“I’ll expect you and your men at sundown, my lord of Baratheon. I do hope you have a taste for lamprey!”
Stannis gave a sharp nod, and watched as Lord Manderly and his retinue of guards trotted back to the New Castle.
The feast that evening did make a man wish he had a taste for lamprey, especially as the creature was featured in not just one but five dishes. And all five dishes could be washed down with a different flavor of summerwine, which considerably improved the taste of the slimy sea creature. At the high table, Manderly had seated Stannis in the place of honor on his right side. Stannis, who had always been slim since Davos had known him, looked visibly out of place compared to Manderly and his two enormous sons. Out of politeness, Stannis sampled each of the wines that was presented to him. He had yet to finish a glass, however, and the sight of multiple wine cups in front of his plate seemed to amuse one of the sons. By the way that Manderly was indulging himself at the feast, Davos was starting to believe the rumors that the man would soon become too fat to sit a horse.
Davos was having a fine time down at one of the other tables in the hall with his crew. He was wishing that he had taken some of his sons along, so they could see the inside of the grand hall and appreciate the hospitality of this fat but good-hearted northern lord—quite different from anything they would find at Dragonstone.
As the pudding was being served and men who had drunk too many glasses of wine were beginning to sing along with the musicians, Davos saw a flash of gold in the corner of his eye. He turned his head and saw Stannis walking away from the high table and towards the balcony just off the hall, his cloth-of-gold cloak trimmed with black trailing behind him. Davos waited a moment, watching Lord Manderly twirl his two little granddaughters around in time with the music, before following his lord.
Stannis was standing quite still, his hands resting lightly on the balcony rails as he stared out to White Harbor below and the sea beyond it. He didn’t flinch, turn his head, or make any other kind of movement when Davos came to stand right beside him. But Stannis still seemed to instinctively know that Davos was there.
“This city is what King’s Landing should be like, Ser Davos. The buildings are all white, the streets are clean, and the harbor is well ordered. And it smells like the sea, not like something rotten and corrupted.”
Davos always thought that King’s Landing smelled like an unwashed whore, but he didn’t think that Stannis would appreciate a comment like that.
“So do you prefer White Harbor to Dragonstone?” asked Davos.
“Dragonstone is a pitiful pile of rocks in the Narrow Sea,” said Stannis bitterly. “To be sure, most of those rocks have been artfully carved into dragons, but no one but a Targaryen would find any beauty in that. No matter where I go, I cannot get away from the smell of ash and smoke or the memory of the fire and blood that it took to seize the island during Robert’s war.”
“What about Storm’s End?” He wondered if Stannis would answer that.
“Nothing will ever compare to Storm’s End.”
The two of them stood silently on the balcony, looking out to the sea for a long while. It was a peaceful silence, a comfortable silence. Eventually, Stannis broke the quiet.
“You were of great service to me then as well.”
“Hmm?” Davos started. “My lord?”
“You gave me advice on how to best approach Dragonstone from the sea, and showed me the best places to land my ships so my soldiers would be in an ideal position to attack that miserable castle. Though you did not fight in the battle, your help was just as essential to my victory as any of the sword-wielding knights who were beside me.”
“I was happy that I was able to prove my worth to you, my lord. You learned that I could do more as a knight than just smuggle onions.”
Davos noticed a small upturn on Stannis’ lips, as Stannis shifted his gaze from the lights of White Harbor to himself. “We make a good team. We always have.”
“Aye, I reckon we do my lord,” returned Davos with a genuine smile. “Next time justice needs to be done, just make me captain of the royal fleet while you take care of all the politics behind the scenes.” Davos paused. “Including the death threats, for no lord would ever take me seriously.”
Stannis let out a bark of laughter, much to Davos’ surprise.
“You are too kind, that’s why.”
Kind? That comment certainly surprised him as much as Stannis’ laughter had. “If you think that, then you don’t know me that well after all, my lord. I didn’t earn the reputation as the best smuggler in Westeros by being kind.”
“Weren’t you the most notorious smuggler?”
Davos considered this. “I guess that depends on which side of the law you’re on.”
“However you got your reputation, no one can deny that you’re clever, Davos. And I’ll see to it that one day you will get the respect that you deserve, just like you promised me on my wedding night. You might be of humble birth with no vast lands or fortunes to your name, but you have proved to me with your intelligence and common sense that you are the equal of most lords that I know.”
Davos vividly remembered Stannis’ wedding night. When the dancing had begun and the wine had been merrily flowing, Stannis had left the banquet hall only to come storming back shortly after, angrily whispering orders into the ear of the nearest Kingsguard knight. He promptly fled after that, and Davos had found him on a secluded balcony overlooking the sea, brooding like King Robert had just denied him Storm’s End all over again. Stannis had looked so removed from the stern man that he was that Davos couldn’t help but tell his dutiful, just lord what he believed to be at the crux of all his misery:
“I promise you that one day, Stannis, you will receive the love and respect that you truly deserve.”
And that night had been the only time Davos had ever dared call Stannis by his name and his name alone.
Davos shook his head, clearing the memory from it. He should thank him, certainly. Tell Stannis that he was honored to have earned such high esteem from his lord. But the only words that escaped his mouth were:
“You remembered that I said that?”
“Of course,” said Stannis simply.
Davos stared at him.
“What, do you think I only remember all the old slights against me?”
Sometimes. You’re too bitter about too many things in your life, not that you don’t have good reason to be.
“It’s not my place to say, or to judge you if you do.”
Davos could hear Stannis grinding his teeth next to him.
“I am a lord of the realm, and the king’s brother at that, yet no matter what I do I seem to be unable to earn enough respect from those that matter most. And that’s not counting the various petty lords like this Lord Borrell, who had the nerve to insult both my men and myself in the same breath.”
Those that matter most? Or do you just mean Robert and Renly?
“What should I be doing to make men love me more, Davos? Exchange platitudes and voice how I am doing everything to serve the realm while I’m profiting on the side? Act false? Forsake my duty? Father a bastard? That seems to work well enough for most lords.”
“Perhaps for the moment, but in the long run I believe that all men—even lords—will reap what they have sown in life. Surely there are some men who admire you for your sense of duty and justice, even if you’re not like most lords in other matters.”
“Is that so, onion knight?” Stannis snorted. “Well, in that case you are not like most knights. Most knights would quake in fear at the prospect of telling their lord a hard truth, especially if he did not want to hear it.” Stannis drummed his fingers on the balcony rails. He continued speaking:
“Unfortunately, when the Small Council and most of the highborn fools that surround Robert see you, all they see is your past. They do not try to see the man that you have become, and all the good deeds that you have done since. I am sorry that they show you so little respect as well.”
“I don’t mind it so much.” Stannis shot him a skeptical look. “Truly, my lord, for I am content to be your knight. I have other things in life to care about; my wife and sons for a start. Why should I try to ingratiate myself to men who will never love me?”
“Even so, they still should not treat you like that,” insisted Stannis. “That is one thing I would change.”
“I don’t think you could change that even if you were the king of Westeros.”
Davos instantly regretted his words, thinking that Stannis would give him a lecture about how treasonous it was to mention such a thing. However, his lord didn’t seem to be bothered by the words, or else his mind was somewhere else—perhaps on the great lord’s balcony on Storm’s End, watching the sunrise in the silence of the morning.
“I could still try,” answered Stannis.
And with that, the two of them reverted back to watching the lights of White Harbor and the waves moving on the sea in silence. One that Davos wished could stretch on forever.
END