Polonius Haine (whisper_lord) wrote in agos, @ 2008-09-18 18:11:00 |
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Polonius looked carefully over the notes in his hand. Toria Lannister had been seen going into a brothel with Jaer Sand… who seemed to be a recent discovery of Elia Martell. In and of itself nothing remarkable but now the boy seemed to have impressed Tyrith Lannister enough to be taken on as an advisor. The Master of Whisper’s brown eyes narrowed. Tyrith was not a man to do anything lightly- the boy must have some extraordinary talent beyond the bedroom, but what was it? He would have to see what the breezes could tell him of this Jaer…. He made a note.
The news of Gwyn Stark’s sudden recovery sat on the desk as well. Who could have mixed that brew but someone with a great deal of knowledge? He opened the copy of the letter he had handed William. Of those in the castle Polonius knew capable, it was a short list: Lazralene of Asshai. The lady of the red cloak was never far from Princess Elia and Toria Lannister had made friends in that quarter… It was a short jump. He would need to put that before William. He made another note.
House Targaryen. House Stark. House Martell. House Lannister. Quite a list of powers to anger in one night. Unless it wasn’t the powers who were targeted… Tymor and Elia perhaps suffered for having helped to waken Gwyn and Stark as the author of the unknown’s grievance… but that left Aenyris a senseless act. No.
Targaryen. Martell. Lannister. Stark. Eliminate the last of the Targaryens, eliminate the closest blood relatives, eliminate the dangerous possible alliance with the richest house in the realm… and then what was Stark? Polonius shifted in his seat and leaned against the cushioned back. He turned to gaze out the window at the bright blue of the sky. That would have been a solid plan… save for cutting Elia Martell’s lovely flesh open. A strike of foolishness or a strike of vengeance gone too far? Or a failed attempt at taking her life?
Striking at Elia would be suicide. Dorne valued its princesses, and moreover Myrwin Martell favored his spoiled little sister… as did her uncle, the Sealord. Killing her would start a vendetta and ravage any chance William had of holding Dorne. Not something to do when the Stormlands looked doubtful and the Iron Islands were massing their fleet.
Targaryen. Stark. Lannister. Martell. Polonius let his mind wander back over the years, to his hand holding another pen… The Master of Whispers sat up. His jaw was tight as he looked again at the names he had written.
Isobel Dayne. A place in Elia Martell’s household, plausibly giving her access to Aenyris’ chambers and perhaps to the shadowy links forming between Lannister and Martell… but who would give her access to William’s chambers? The girl had no cunning but perhaps her companion Lord Arys did or perhaps she needed only a stray word from someone's lips... a bribe applied to the right guard. House Dayne was far from poor...
And yet… by giving William the tale of love-torn intrigue, accepting the assassin’s ready-made scheme and declaring Elia to have killed Aenyris in vengeance before attempting to take her own life… though it did not explain how a court-raised, pampered princess of Dorne would have the faintest clue at how to remove flesh from carcass… perhaps it would flush out the truth. Repressing the tale of the trophies the story would make sense. If they could repress them… but the king’s courts seldom met for justice.
Polonius’ pen moved across the parchment one more time. The breezes carried many tales. They told him that things beyond these walls continued to move and powers long dormant were stirring. They whispered of Ghis turning its bottomless eyes westward once more as it remembered hungrily the days before Valyria. They hissed the warbling tales of singers drunk on song and glory in the Free Cities.
The third name was sure to please Lord Stark least of all. Polonius looked it over, turning that thought over in his mind. ‘Twas true the king’s court seldom met for justice and this would be no exception. Every name he came to was a catspaw, not one of them believable as the true thought behind this, if there even was one. It seemed more the work of a madman, but this monstrosity was near enough to outshine even the legendary Aerion Brightfire. Polonius bowed his head and asked the gods for guidance.
He would give his report to William and he would wait to see what the wolf would make of it, of the lambs he brought to slaughter. And then he would watch one of them die. Polonius looked over his list once more.