CHP 38: Serpentine Rival (Patreon)

I felt something prick at my mind and my natural reaction to that was whipping around and tearing down the tree... but, I stopped myself just before I could.

Whatever had tried to affect me wasn't invasive in nature, not an attack. It was closer to a vision than an attack.

So, out of curiosity, I allowed it to show me what it wanted.

My answer came in the form of a sequence of events that flashed one after the other.

In the blink of an eye, I saw an endless sea of ice so white I was reminded of my battle with Borealis the Freezing Fog, an ancient drake that commanded the cold and lived atop the forsaken Mountain Tops of the Giant, mountains I'd scaled in the war against the Fire Giants.

Then came legions of demons made of ice and snow and cold, their numbers so immense that they swarmed the scape like agitated ants. Long, pale, creatures with eyes like an azure star and swords made from ice. Long pale creatures atop large wolves, mammoths and all manners of creatures.

I saw them break past a massive wall of frozen ice, their hordes passing through like water gushing forth from a broken dam.

After that came a girl with hair like my own and bright violet eyes sitting in fire, a pretty little thing... but one that irked me with three disgusting insults to my kind around her. The irksomeness soon changed into a fondness when I thought about how the near-extinct dragons of the Lands Between would look upon them.

The vision ended with an endless winter, a man wielding a flaming sword, and fields littered with pale corpses of the desecrated dead.

A grim vision for the future indeed.

But... all it did was make me chuckle.

A chuckle that turned into full blown laughter as I relaxed my head against the tree, staring at the sky with burning eyes.

The crow perched on the tree looked down at me, its head cocked and its gaze puzzled by my reaction. Only once I was finished laughing did I turn to look at it with a massive grin, "Was that meant to startle me?"

If those legions of undead were the great doom this world faced then...

"I'm disappointed."

It was a laughably pitiful excuse for an apocalypse.

I could understand what it meant for the common folk, the men and women of the Seven Kingdoms, or perhaps this world as a whole but... I was here. 

Shaking my head, I rose to my feet, "Replace those undead with Ancient Dragons and you might just stand a chance... probably not though."

Still, it was funny that whoever had shown me that thought it would terrify, or even startle me into taking action.

"Send me a message when those things come near. Trust me, that's all you'll ever need."

The crow cried out, then spread its wings and jumped off the branch to land on my shoulder. As I watched, the wisdom faded from its eyes, replaced by the cunning that came with being the black bird.

I softly caressed its smooth head, smiling, "I guess this works too."

Truth be told, I was grateful to the strange sorcerer tracking me. He'd shown me something quite curious, I even wanted to meet that girl... her drakes to be precise.

"Ser...?"

"Addam. Don't tell me they thought you were a servant of Jonos?" I turned to the youth approaching me, feeding the crow some of my mint.

My young squire nodded slowly, cheeks red, "H-How'd you know?"

"I mean." I eyed his shabby clothes, a roughspun tunic made of cotton, leather trousers and a chipped blade strapped to his waist. I tugged at my trench coat, "What did you think they were gonna think? You should dress like me."

To my surprise, he averted his gaze, seeming hesitant about my words, "Y-Yes..."

"Hey, these clothes are more fashionable than anything I've seen from you guys so far."

"Of course." He let out a long sigh.

-

The few days that followed passed in the blink of an eye.

I trained Addam on swordplay in the afternoon and spent the rest of the day eating or drinking while sponging any and all books I could find, from old wives' tales to history to fables that had been passed down for thousands of years.

Addam was... an agreeable learner, especially for someone who couldn't just run off to battle, die, wake up again, then rush off to battle once more.

I'd lost the ability to do so later in life when grace shunned me but I would never deny just how paramount it was to my victory over Bayle and his kind. It came back when the Tarnished I chose to support started his journey but... at that point, I shunned Grace for what it did as much as it had shunned me.

It was during one of my training sessions with Addam that the castle steward ran up to me. He knelt on one knee, as Edmure had ordered for some reason, "My Lord, the kn-"

I put my hand up, "Wait a second."

A knight had graciously accepted my request of sparring with Addam, and I was too invested in watching the two go at it from my seat on the ground. They struck at each other with blunted swords, and blow after blow from the more experienced knight had made Addam back off until his back was against a tree.

At the last moment however, Addam put a foot in the space between the knight's and shifted his weight to smash the hilt of his sword into the older man's shoulder. He then shoved the disoriented man away with his shoulder, and slammed his sword into his elbow.

The knight blocked, but the force behind the blow left him reeling for a moment. A moment that Addam capitalised on to kick at his knee as hard as he could before resting his sword against the knight's neck.

"I... yield."

I clapped my hands, smiling with more joy than I'd have thought, "Good job, kid."

Addam offered the knight a hand, rubbing the back of his head in shame and mumbling slurred apologies as his tunic stuck to his skin from sweat.

"Now then." I turned to the steward who'd stayed silent, "What did you wa-... oh come on."

The man was still kneeling so I beckoned for him to rise, "The Knights of the Vale have arrived."

Wasn't that a little too fast?

"The raven we received said that the Vale had already started marching."

Ah... that made sense.

Wait, the Vale was ruled by Lysa Arryn, wife to the late Lord Jon Arryn. That would mean Lysa Arryn Nee Tully was accepted by the Lords of the Vale and they mobilised on her command. It was a rather far fetched thing to consider when I factored in the general view on gender of a medieval society.

Relieving him with a nod, I turned around and appeared under one of the large towers built into the castle's walls. Calmly, I scaled the spiral stairway made from red sandstone, out on top of the tower and looked to the River Road, ignoring the kneeling soldiers.

There, out below, out of the forest came riding the finest knights of the realm. Their bright coloured stallions wore glided armor that shimmered under the light of a Sun hidden behind grey clouds, as did the knights riding them all. They all wore plate, emblazoned with a blue falcon soaring against a white moon.

Thin banners whipped about in the air, painted in the likeness of House Arryn, as the knights came riding out of the woods with their heads held high, their faces like stone and their ride so steady and unified I whistled in awe.

They made the gathered rivermen look like beggars in comparison, with their enamelled armor and their shining swords.

The thundering of hooves drowned out all else as they rode into the camp. A dozen or so detached from the contingent to mingle with the rivermen while the rest rode into Riverrun.

There were nary a hundred of them, the most renowned of lords and fabled of knights no doubt.

Edmure was already waiting to receive them beyond the gates with some of his lords and I quickly moved to join, incredibly curious about these so-called finest knights of the realm, who apparently valued honour and duty above all else.

"They were told but... I do not think they would believe what you have done." The young Lord of the Riverlands commented, hands behind his back, "I request that you forgive them their ignorance."

I just shrugged, "It's fine, man."

He gave me a small nod.

Within moments, the knights of the Vale came riding through the gates, rearing their horses as they came to a halt several steps beyond us. They parted slowly to reveal their 'leader', a...

"Huh."

It was a small, harmless looking man. With swept back hair that had a streak of grey in them, and a sparrow sewn onto the shoulder of his navy coat. There was a pointed beard on his small chin... and his body was far too small to be thought of as a knight's.

He quickly dismounted his white stallion and walked over to us.

But... his stature... or lack of one, wasn't what surprised me.

It was that I recognised him.

"Petyr?" Edmure murmured, confusion and surprise written across his face, "Is that you, Petyr?"

The Master of Coin, and the one I'd advised Eddard Stark against trusting.

The man responsible for a significant deal of the flimsy plan Eddard had and the man who I believed had betrayed him in a disadvantageous situation. I'd met him once and only once, and he smelled and behaved like a scheming rat... one that was VERY good at hiding his nature, but not good enough to escape my eyes.

"Lord Petyr Baelish, consort to Lady Lysa Arryn and Lord Protector of the Vale of Arryn!" One of the knights cried, intro

He put a hand over his chest, and offered a curt bow, "I was given the distinct honour of marrying sweet Lysa once I escaped King's Landing." 

Petyr Baelish smiled that Marika-awful smile I saw on the face of so many that sought to scheme and plot their way to the top. Edmure walked over to him and wrapped the man in a hug, a toothy smile on his face, "This is good. I knew you wouldn't betray us, Petyr! For what it's worth, Lysa was always sweet on you."

I cast an inquisitive glance towards the Valemen to spot looks of discontent.

So... they valued their duty and honour above their personal thoughts. It was an admirable trait to see in so many humans.

"You honour me." Petyr hugged him back, smiling a polite smile that didn't quite reach his ears, "I am well aware of my station." He cast a glance at the Knights of the Vale around him, "But it gladdens me to see you in such high spirits."

"Your sister sends thirty and five thousand swords, and the Knights of the Vale to join the right cause."

I watched them exchange pleasantries in silent contemplation.

It made sense that someone like him had quickly realised that the Lannisters were losing and abandoned them to run back to the Vale where he was from but... it felt incredibly odd that he got to marry a recently widowed Lady Regent so quickly.

A life as long as mine had made me accept that anything was possible, and what I had seen led me to one conclusion.

Initially, I surmised that he'd taken advantage of her sorrow to nestle in her heart like snakes did but... Edmure had just said that Lysa had always been 'sweet' on him.

Men were capable of great cruelty upon one another.

Could it be that the man had plotted Jon Arryn's death with his wife and then capitalised on the ensuing chaos to propel himself up the metaphorical ladder? It would align with what I suspected beforehand. It would align with him betraying Eddard Stark.

Especially once I recalled that Eddard told me Jon Arryn had been poisoned and didn't die naturally.

It was the only reasonable conclusion I could come to after my experience with matters of court and just how far the nobility were willing to go to secure more political power... or rather, the weakest kind of power there was.

Power that relied on the hearts of the masses.

I could see his logic too, and credit where credit was due, it worked out quite well for him... and of course, there was the chance I was wrong but... I'd never really operated with that kind of mindset.

Done with Edmure, Petyr turned to me and bowed his head before looking up at me, "And you must be Lord Karl. I must say, the rumors fall short."

I grinned slightly.

"Don't act like you don't recognise me, child."

-

Hope you enjoyed.

Comment your thoughts and/or suggestions for the story without restraint.

-

Karl's conclusion wouldn't be far-fetched even if it came from someone not so old, so long as they had a good head on their shoulders.

A) He was supposed to help Eddard but Eddard died and he wasn't even mentioned.

B) He ran away when the Lannisters were put in a dire situation.

C) He married a newly widowed woman that just so happened to be the Lady Regent of a whole Kingdom. Her husband died to poison.

D) Said Lady's little brother just said she'd always liked him. Before you ask, yes, Edmure IS the type to say that kind of thing outloud and you know it.

What's the conclusion you'd draw here if you knew nothing except this?

Even then, this is info only known by Karl and no one else.

To Littlefinger's credit, he'd probably make this move a lot more convoluted given time but Karl's actions and the rapidly devolving situation doesn't leave him much of a choice in the execution.