Dragon King Part 31 (Patreon)

Myst yawned when he woke up, going from asleep to annoyingly awake within a couple of seconds when he realized that Selena was already dressed in her silk maid outfit and had breakfast ready. He glanced at the clock on his HUD. "Let me guess, the council is meeting today?" he asked, reasonably sure there wasn't supposed to be a council meeting today but not sure why else she'd be waking him up with food at seven forty in the morning.

"In about twenty minutes," Selena replied with a scowl as she thought about the annoying wannabe priests that had blustered their way past the guards that should have told them to come back at a reasonable hour. "The Citadel sent a new maester and several members of the faith are here to complain about the crown's lack of action."

Myst stared at Selena as he processed her statement, not sure why someone thought showing up at seven in the morning to demand anything from a king was a good idea. "Why are they here at seven in the morning?"

"No idea, they blustered their way past the gate guard and started trying to lecture me for my outfit and then demanded to talk to someone more important when I told them they were welcome to leave if they couldn't wait quietly until a more reasonable hour to deal with their complaints," Selena replied, less than amused by the priests' attitude. "Gerold told them he'd assemble the small council to hear their concerns, I figured you'd want to be there."

"Thanks for the heads up," Myst replied as he floated out of bed. "Did the priests mention their concerns?"

"Apparently, they've lost half of their priests because they wandered off and vanished," Selena replied smugly.

"How is that my fault?" Myst asked as he walked over to the table and sat down, making a note to ask Zara and Laurena about the situation.

"You're supposed to be the protector of the Faith," Selena replied sarcastically.

"That's one title I don't want," Myst grumbled as he checked to make sure his food was fit to eat with his upgrade ability. He scowled when he realized the eggs were undercooked and the meat had been left out too long. "Remind me to have a chat with the kitchen staff," he complained as he pushed the plate of food to the side and conjured a bagel with cream cheese.

"Sorry, I'm still trying to sort through the servants," Selena admitted, less than impressed with the quality of their skill and their loyalty.

"I'll see what I can do about the shortage of decent servants after the council meeting," Myst assured her then started working on eating his bagel, wanting something in his stomach before he had to deal with the frustrating priests. 'I was supposed to have the day off so I could spend it at the tower with the girls.'

"That would be appreciated, do you need anything or can I go make sure your sister gets something that's actually edible?" Selena asked.

Myst finished chewing his bite. "Just the name of the guard that let the priests in, he should have told them to wait outside."

"How much trouble is he in?" Selena asked, thinking about the new guard.

Myst shook his head. "Once is an honest mistake, twice is treason or at least a reason to spend a couple of days in the cells before being sent to the Wall. I'd rather not give the Faith a reason to think that they're more important than pond scum or that they get to dictate terms."

"Are you planning on telling them that they're less than pond scum?" Selena asked hopefully.

Myst shook his head. "I'll try to be a bit more diplomatic, at least until we've finished placing all of the statues."

"Probably for the best," Selena admitted with a pout. "The guard's name is Benard, he's not a bad guy, he was just trying to avoid offending people and he's new."

"I'll keep that in mind," Myst assured her as he opened his inventory, swapped to his clothes tab and dropped one of his less annoying court outfits on his character doll.

"Do you want me to swap to one of my less decent outfits and come with you?" Selena asked, curious if she could provoke the priests into saying something that would get them tossed out of the city.

Myst chuckled when his mind conjured an image of him riding into the room on Selena's shoulders while she wasn't wearing much of anything. "As much fun as giving the priests an aneurysm would be, you should probably make sure Rhaenys gets a healthy breakfast or at least one that isn't contaminated."

"I have a few minutes, she's still sound asleep," Selena assured him. "You should probably run a comb through your hair."

Myst stuck his tongue out at her then pulled a comb out of his inventory and ran it through his hair a couple of times. "Give me a break, I just woke up."

"Just saying," Selena teased him as she headed for the door with a spring in her steps.

'At least she's having fun,' Myst mused as he stuck the comb back in his inventory and headed for the door, not looking forward to dealing with the priests, if only because the statues hadn't had enough time to cripple people's faith in the Seven yet. He glanced at the guard that was stationed by his door. "Please tell me that you haven't been standing there all night."

"No your grace, I relieved Ser Oswell when I heard about the septons," Ser Barristan replied with a hint of amusement.

"Good," Myst replied as he continued walking. "I could use a bit of advice, if you don't mind."

"Never your grace, what's on your mind?" Ser Barristan asked as he fell into step with his king, happy that he didn't have to worry all that much about his king's safety thanks to his defensive trinkets.

"I'm curious who I should blame for getting woken up before the sun because a couple of septons were let into the keep before the sun was up, Gerold, the guard at the gate or someone else for not properly instructing Benard on the type of people that are allowed inside?" Myst asked, curious about the man's thoughts.

Ser Barristan considered the question for a minute as they walked through the hallway, giving his king a chance to finish his meal. "I'll have a talk with the guard, he should have sent someone to fetch the captain."

"Once is a mistake, twice is negligence," Myst mused, wanting to make sure it didn't happen again without a good reason. "If he had a good reason, let me know."

"Understood," Ser Barristan replied, glad the king was more reasonable than his grandfather.

"Do you know anything about the maester the citadel sent?" Myst asked.

"Gormon, born Gormon Tyrell, he's intelligent and follows his vows," Ser Barristan replied.

"Does that mean that Pycelle got demoted?" Myst asked, curious how they dealt with that particular political hurtle.

"For breaking his vows," Ser Barristan replied, fairly sure that was just an excuse to start fresh, considering if the Citadel didn't replace him, they'd lose their place on the council.

"That's one less concern," Myst mused as they reached the door to the small council.

"Your grace," one of the guards offered as he opened the door.

Myst glanced at the pair of haughty looking septons as he walked into the council room, less than impressed by their annoyance that he was interrupting their audience with the council. He glanced at Oberyn's empty chair then walked over to the throne that was facing away from the table and jumped up on it so he could look down at the clergy. "Please explain what type of emergency calls for a council meeting at the crack of dawn."

Elia gestured towards Gormon. "Grand Maester Gormon arrived last night, we were going to cover some of the recent events in an unofficial council meeting this morning after breakfast when the septons demanded an audience."

"That makes sense." Myst turned to look at the middle aged man. "Welcome to King's Landing Grand Maester Gormon."

"Thank you, Your Grace," Gormon replied with a nod.

Myst turned to look at the pair of septons that looked in their late forties or early fifties. "Before I call you to task for insulting a member of my staff after barging into my home uninvited, why are you here?"

"Your servant was wearing something indecent," one of the septons snapped.

"What my servants wear or don't wear in the keep is none of your business, so I'll ask one last time, why are you here?" Myst asked as he scanned the septon's memories, curious why they were there and what made them think they could get away with being rude. 'You hate me for possibly having magic but you still want me to fix your problems, it doesn't work that way.'

"Your Grace, someone is targeting the Faith," the other septon cut in before his associate said something that got them in trouble. "We request your help in tracking down the people responsible for the attacks."

"What attacks?" Myst asked, doing his best to look confused and surprised.

"We've lost contact with over four dozen septons," the septon admitted.

'More than that,' Myst thought as he turned to look at Varys, doing his best not to smile as he thought about the missing septons. "What do you know about attacks on the Faithful?"

Varys glanced at Gormon then focused on the king. "I've heard whispers of a number of septons taking everything of value and leaving their posts but I haven't heard anything about attacks involving the septons since their brutal attack on the Citadel."

"That was obviously a plot against us," the more annoying septon complained.

"You had an entire sept lose their minds and murder a number of townsfolk and attack the Citadel, how was that a plot against you?" Myst asked, curious how they'd spin things.

"Someone hired bards to spread the story," the septon complained.

Myst turned to look at Varys. "Have you heard any reports about the bards lying?"

"Beyond a touch of poetic license in a couple of cases, nothing Your Grace," Varys replied, reasonably sure the king knew more than he was saying about that particular incident.

Myst looked at the septons. "I understand that I'm a child and that I don't know everything but I think you're looking for a villain that doesn't exist because you don't want to admit that your organization is corrupt."

"They wouldn't have left their post!" the annoying septon snapped. "It was witchcraft!"

Myst laughed for a couple of seconds before he got himself back under control, rather amused at the conclusions they were jumping to without any evidence. "Wait, you're serious?"

"Yes!" he snapped. "They wouldn't have left their posts or stolen from the Faith."

"Are you seriously trying to tell me that you've never had septons steal from the Faith?" Myst asked, daring the man to lie.

"Never so blatant," the other septon argued before his colleague could lie to the king.

"Day turned to night, maybe they figured the gods had forsaken them," Myst replied with a shrug, offering a plausible scenario.

"That was because of your sorcery!" the more annoying septon snapped.

Myst raised his eyebrows, not sure where the man was going. "My sorcery?"

Gerold glared at the septons. "Speak with care."

"You hired a sorcerer to repair the capital," the other septon cut in, feeling that was a safer claim than accusing the king of witchcraft.

"Last I checked, using magic productively wasn't illegal," Myst replied as he dug through the man's memories looking for the locations of the rest of the important septons that Laurena hadn't found. "What makes you think it's a curse rather than greed?"

"Because we've received dozens of messages complaining that people have stopped donating to the Seven," he complained.

"Why are you blaming witchcraft when you could be blaming the bards or your own leaders for stealing the vault and running, do you want to hear an alternate theory?" Myst asked, doing his best to conceal his amusement at the entire situation.

"What is that Your Grace?" he asked, sounding like he was grinding his teeth.

"The sept of Baelor had a lot of ancient writings, it's possible that someone found a reference to an ancient prophecy about the gods sending Westros to a distant world and decided to leave before that happened and take the gold, after all there's no reason to leave the gold with the people the gods banished, is there?"

"You think we were banished by the gods?" the annoying septon asked.

"No clue," Myst lied, unwilling to 'publicly' admit that he'd caused it. "I know the stars are different and I know that the leaders of the sept stole all of the gold in the vaults before they left. Maybe it was a prophecy, maybe it was simply human greed. Either way, I'm not going to start a witch hunt or authorize one when you don't have any proof that magic was used on your priests."

"If I might," Gormon cut in.

Myst turned to look at the Maester. "Of course."

"Magic has been in decline for centuries, it's extremely unlikely that there is an entire cabal of witches with enough power to attack the Faith like the septons are claiming," Gormon argued.

"I'd have to agree with our new Maester," Myst said, doing his best not to laugh at the septons. "You're better off reporting the so-called crimes to your local lords and letting them look into the matter, have them track the septons down as thieves."

"They were cursed!" the annoying septon declared.

"Let's pretend that they were cursed for a minute despite the fact that you have no actual evidence, aren't the Faith supposed to be the country's shield against hostile magic? If you're failing this badly, what use are you?" Myst asked.

"What?!" the septon sputtered.

"Maybe we could have stopped them if we still had the Faith Militia!" the annoying septon snapped.

Myst's smile slipped. "If you try to bring that shit back, I'll have every single one of you executed. I'm not unleashing that particular bit of insanity on my country. Having something to believe in that makes you a better person is all well and good, religious insanity on the other hand is not something I'll tolerate."

"You're a child," the annoying septon snapped. "You're the Protector of the Faith, you have to help us fix this or the people will rise up in protest." The septon turned to look at Elia. "Talk some sense into your son!"

"I'd be careful," Elia warned the septons. "You're rather close to the line between being dramatic and treason, you might want to take a minute and reconsider your words."

Myst used telepathy to suppress the man's restraint and self preservation instinct.

"And you're a woman!" the annoying septon snapped. "Leave the discussion for people that understand how the world works!"

Myst glared at the septon. "She's a princess of Dorne and my mother. Ser Barristan, if you'd remove the idiot from the Red Keep, I'd appreciate it."

"Of course Your Grace," Ser Barristan said as he walked over and grabbed the annoying septon by his arm.

"Unhand me, do you know who I am?" the man demanded as he pulled his arm out of the knight's grasp, looking more than a bit unhinged.

"An idiot," Ser Barristan replied deadpan as he stepped forward and decked the septon, dropping him unconscious.

"You can't hit a man of Faith," the other septon sputtered.

"Tell that to your friend when he wakes up," Ser Barristan replied as he grabbed the man's foot and started dragging him outside, not caring about the fact that his head was bouncing on the tile floor as he'd already demonstrated that he didn't use it.

Myst scowled at the other septon, curious if he was going to be reasonable but not particularly concerned about it since the girls were already spreading the statues around the kingdom and were planning on eliminating the Faith. "Let's get back to the other point of contention I have with you. One of you, you or the idiot and at this point, I don't really care who it was as I'm holding the Faith responsible decided to insult one of my servants about her uniform."

"That's because her uniform was practically see-through!" the septon complained.

"I'm curious, how often does a servant get to pick their uniform?" Myst asked.

"What?" the septon asked, confused by the abrupt topic change.

"If a servant is wearing a uniform, she was probably given that uniform which means the person you need to be insulting wouldn't be the servant in question, of course, the fact that you walked into my home and started insulting anyone is rude. I'd like a formal written apology."

"Do you know what she was wearing?" the septon asked.

"I wouldn't care if she was walking around naked, she can defend herself. You have no right to complain about anything as she's not a member of the Faith of the Seven, nor was she in your home or a temple."

"Can she even read?" the septon asked.

"In more languages than you," Myst replied. "As for your 'request' for help, I'm more than willing to write to some of the lords, instructing them to look for criminal septons and people posing as septons but I suspect that would cause a disruption in your ability to function as a group as the lords continue to bring your septons in for questioning as the witches might be taking their faces."

"We'll deal with it ourselves, I'm sure some of the nobles can be more reasonable," the septon complained as he turned towards the door.

"Suit yourself." Myst turned to look at Varys. "Do you have an extra piece of parchment? The septon has an apology letter to write."

"I'm not going to apologize for telling the truth," the septon stated as he walked towards the door, fairly sure someone would keep the child from doing anything too drastic.

"Let me get this straight, you barged into my home and insulted my staff and now you're refusing to do the polite thing and admit that you're wrong?" Myst asked as he skimmed the man's mind, trying to figure out why he thought he could get away with being a prick to his king. 'Ah, right, you know a couple of nobles and some merchants with more gold than brains and you think the council will care because you're a septon?'

The septon turned to look at Myst. "The Seven," he said before Myst interrupted, "Let me stop you right there, this isn't about your piece of shit demonic gods."

"What did you say?!" the septon sputtered as Myst stepped on the armrest of his chair then stepped onto the table and walked across it.

Myst hopped down to the floor and walked towards the septon. "I said this isn't about your demonic gods, this is about you apologizing for being rude. You walked into my home without an invitation, you insulted my friend, so I'm going to insult your shit eating gods, your stupid fucking hair and your pretentious and obscenely expensive robes," he reached up and caught the septon's hand when he tried to backhand him, a touch surprised that he hadn't had to spit on him or even press on his self control with telepathy to get him to do something he could act on.

Gerold jumped to his feet and drew his sword. "Step away from the King!"

"Hold," Myst ordered Gerold as he tightened his grip on the septon's wrist, using flight to make up for the fact that the septon outweighed him by at least two hundred pounds so the septon couldn't use his weight to move him. "I have a couple of questions before you strip the former septon of his robes of office and clothes and toss him out of the Keep."

"You can't take my rank," the septon replied smugly. "The Faith will rally behind my death and they'll expunge the taint that is your bloodline!"

"Your death?" Myst laughed as he stepped away from the septon so Gerold could grab him. "I'm not going to kill you or order you executed, if you're dead you can't suffer."

Gerold put his sword away and secured the septon. "If you try that again, I'll beat you unconscious."

The septon glared at Gerold but kept his mouth shut, fairly sure he'd make it hurt.

"You're going to write an apology of your own free will or you're going to spend the rest of your life chained to a wall in the middle of town without clothes while people toss rotten vegetables at you and laugh. You're not going to be a martyr, you're going to be an abject lesson on why you shouldn't walk into a king's home and insult his friends because I'm going to have someone standing watch telling everyone what you did and what you have to do to escape punishment so they can laugh at your pride and arrogance."

"How long do you want him in the square?" Gerold asked, relieved that they weren't using wildfire on the idiot.

Myst considered the question as he skimmed through the man's mind for the location of his contacts. 'At least most of his friends aren't particularly impressive,' he mused as he sent the information on the scattered group of nobles and merchant contacts that the idiot thought was going to bail him out of trouble or avenge him to Laurena via telepathy, figuring she could make sure the locations were covered by the anti faith statues. "At least three days. That should give him enough time to reevaluate his life choices, he can leave when he writes the apology letter."

"Move," Gerold ordered, hoping the septon resisted.

'Do you want them dead or watched?' Laurena asked via telepathy.

'Watched but I trust you,' Myst replied, knowing she'd sort things out if some of them were beyond saving for one reason or another.

Elia waited until the septon left before she sighed. "They could cause trouble."

"The Faith were always going to cause trouble. Bards or at least amateur bards are decently cheap, if we can paint the septons as greedy bastards that lost the Seven's favor, we can erode the Faith. It shouldn't be too difficult to find some people to toss rotten vegetables at the man, especially if we offer to pay street kids to do it. As long as he doesn't know that we paid them, he'll see the faithful doing it and that should hurt his pride," Myst explained as he walked around the table.

"He tried to hit you," Gormon pointed out.

"He wasn't particularly good at it," Myst replied, not particularly concerned about the attempt to hit him since he was reasonably sure he could have dodged it without his powers. "His friends and associates would use him for a martyr if I had him executed or sent him to The Wall, this way people can laugh at him and he loses his value."

"It certainly sends a better message than burning him alive with wildfire," Varys agreed. "I'll make sure there is a steady supply of children to hit him with vegetables and shit."

Myst turned to look at Varys. "Make sure it's horse shit, I don't need a plague spreading."

"Of course," Varys agreed, seeing it as a chance to make sure his little birds got more silver which would earn him more loyalty.

"Do you need anything else or can I get back to working on the design for a sewer system?" Myst asked, looking forward to being able to walk around King's Landing without feeling like he was in an overused latrine.

"That should be everything," Elia replied with a grin. "The rest is just getting Gormon up to speed."

"Thanks," Myst replied as he turned and left, not seeing a reason to stay when he could be working on projects.

Gormon watched the door shut behind the king. "He's not what I was expecting."

"He's certainly wise beyond his years," Varys offered, glad to have someone reasonable on the throne.