'A Gathering of Shadows' - the Sept (theseven) wrote in agos, @ 2008-11-04 17:55:00
Dragons Fall: Executions
Who: Anyone who wants to watch. When: Day 62. Dawn. Rating: R Status: Open if you want to be there.
The dawn was quiet for mere moments, but already the crowds had gathered in the great square to see the traitors die. Lifting a hand against a member of the royal blood cost a hand, but taking a life was something else. Varrik Harrys and Bryan Tanley would see no more dawns.
The hedgeknight stood stoic, but Lord Harrys’ hands trembled visibly. They were merely the first, the easiest marks for the king’s justice. This afternoon it would be Alastair Westerling who would die for the crowd’s pleasure and perhaps others as well.
Turnya Hill watched from her vantage a good solid distance away from the dead men. There were times the Justice missed or something went amiss- didn’t do to be sitting too close when that happened.
“Takin the day off?” asked a voice to her right. She turned and grinned, showing off the gap-toothed smile that won her a bit more gold than the other girls at the inn. The speaker was Ned the butcher’s son, who was like to be spending some of his own wages in the inn after dark.
“Aye, but tonight’ll be busy as anythin’. Nothing like a good day of executions to get the blood moving properlike.”
“And the gold with it.”
“A good thing too,” Turnya told him. “It’s been right scarce these days- the ports all mucked up and sailors not got nothing to do. Bloody violent buggers the lot of them when there ain’t a ship to take ‘em off again.”
“Heard you had some problems the other night.” Ned looked amused.
“Just some noble boys. Nothing like the feast night- old Sandro’s back and he was inspecting his holdings again. Brought that Dornish prince with him. “
Ned laughed. “Heard about that too. Nearly like it was- remember before the king died, and Prince Jaehaerys?”
Turnya smiled along with him. Back when a girl got coppers enough her bodice weren’t loose and plagues hadn’t near ravaged them all. Back when the city smelled less like old dead things when the winds swept up from Flea Bottom. Back when the nobles came in without a hungry edge on them like they wanted your blood more than they wanted your bed. “A bit,” was all she said. “But the fever’s near gone and the ports about back as it was, the ambassador brought ships with him…”
“Or risk the Starks murdering him as well,” Old Gynneth’s voice was as razor sharp as her blade was purported to be. A few of Gynneth’s clients never seemed to make it home again. “They got the Princess- she was to marry the Prince, don’t you see? Rumor is she took to her rooms to hide that she was with child.”
“The prince has been gone a year! I remember- we watched them sail and there was a procession. Didn’t we, Turnya?” Ned looked to her for assurance and she nodded. She remembered that day, and other processions as well. She remembered a boy with indigo eyes and a queen with silvery laughter; a princess with a dangerous smile and one with hair of spun sunlight, and a king who always looked sad…
She remembered a full belly and extra food, the cider at the Lucky Boar… but that seemed to be a very long time ago… “Where’d she hide the baby then?” Ned demanded.
“Spirited away, or dead might be.” Gynneth shrugged. Her ragged red hair stirred in the wind and she pushed it out of her eyes. Turnya winced at the way you could see the older woman’s bones and veins like her skin wasn’t nothing but an onion’s.
“That’s a tale and nothing more,” Turnya said dismissively. “I heard it from one of the squires who sees me some nights- that new queen’s a jealous kind and had the girl killed. They just said it was Lord Westerling to keep the land quiet.”
Ned looked at her for a moment. “But it’s the regent as had Princess Elia shut away and the other one—“
“His lady’s own kin? ‘Course it was-she’s a fair one… Aye, and that Tyrell lady too,” Gynneth added with a nod. “She ‘ad a trial of battle she did, like ‘er cousin, only hers went a bit better. They say her twin brother near took off one o’ the white cloaks’ heads.”
Turnya grinned. “Oh aye, they said that was a grand match to watch. Though I should think he and his sister won’t be too long in the city now, what with their cousin dead... I shouldn’t wonder as we won’t be seein’ Princess Elia for too long neither.”
“ They won’t kill her with her brother here- my uncle saw him fight once in a tourney,” Ned told them with a puffed up air he got. It was a matter of pride for him his grandfather had been a knight once- though that was a long time ago now. “He said that Prince Myrwin was faster than you could see just about.”
“Fast won’t help nothing if that Lady Stark’s as cruel as all that. She hired these ones and look what it’s gotten them,” Turnya shivered. It would be winter soon, and who was bringing harvests in from the field? She’d seen bad years before, but she’d heard a lot worse from the innkeep, who’d lived through forty of them. “Do you really think there was a baby, Gynneth?” she asked in a near whisper. “A prince who might come back some day?”
The woman shrugged. “It’d be a dragon prince, sweets, and those are mad or just by a flip o’ the gods’ coins. Who’s to say if it would be a good thing?”
Beside them, Ned was looking intently at the dead man ascending the stairs to the platform. “It’s not looking much like the wolf princes are so different. They’re part dragon too to hear them tell it, anyway. Though if you ask me, it’s the lions we should hope for.”
“Hush, Ned. The spider lord can hear you,” Turnya hissed.
“The spider whispered to the dragons and the wolves seem to have eaten them all.” He smirked. Gynneth however didn’t look so amused.
“Spiders will always speak their tales to someone, butcher boy.”
“If you keep talking like that, they’ll make sure the lions is next,” Turnya whispered to Ned.
“Don’t be silly, Turnya. You’re letting Gynneth get to you.”
The older woman looked at them both with a look that might almost have been pity. “It’s a game they all play, the great ones. Best you just keep away from it.”
The dead man knelt. Turnya wondered if it was the lord or the hedge knight. It didn’t make a difference though, did it? They would both die. The morning light shone on the Justice’s sword as he raised it high. Turnya looked away, to the high towers of the Red Keep. Missing wasn’t dead. It wasn’t right saying there’d be a new king when the real one might be coming back…
The roar of the crowd told her the first head was off. There’d be others, she knew that much. The nobles didn’t like doing things small.