Trials and Tribulations of the Oathkeeper

Chapter 25: Assassination of Renly Baratheon

—At Storm's End—

"Our battles are well drawn up," Renly said. The King in Highgarden decided that now was the time to rendezvous with Ser Loras Tyrell and his men to the island of Tarth and sail upon King's Landing. Accompanying him was the mighty Brienne of Tarth who helped get his armor on.

"Why not wait for daybreak, Your Grace?" she asked.

The long ranks of man and horse were armored in darkness, as black as if the Smith had hammered night itself into steel. There were banners to her right, banners to her left, and rank on rank of banners before her, but in the predawn gloom, neither colors nor sigils could be discerned. Brienne fit backplate to breastplate over his quilted tunic. The King in Highgarden's armor was a deep gold and green, the green of leaves in a summer wood, so dark it drank the candlelight. Gold highlights gleamed from inlay and fastenings like distant fires in that wood, winking every time he moved. She tightened green leather straps and buckled golden buckles.

"I wish we had more time to prepare, Brienne... but we're standing on our last legs," Renly confessed. "My father-in-Law's bannermen may have caught the Kingslayer, but enemy morale didn't seem to diminish. In fact, they've gotten increasingly bolder." He stood in front of a mirror, contemplating the actions that led to this moment. Years ago, Renly and his nephew Daveth sat on the same council discussing politics and other domestic matters. The Crown Prince and the Master of Laws, uncle and nephew... What happened between us? No! I must see this through to the end. "Brienne, inform the others that I'll be moving to Tarth. With any luck we could end this war in a fortnight."

Before Brienne could move, a cold breeze suddenly swept through the main camp.

"Why is it so cold—?" he asked in a small puzzled voice.

A heartbeat before the steel of his gorget parted like cheesecloth beneath the shadow of a blade that was not there. Brienne turned to look and couldn't comprehend what she was seeing, a shadow taking shape and substance with a man's face. She watched as the shadow flew to Renly and pierced his chest with a dagger of darkness.

"Ugh!" he managed to utter out. Renly spluttered as the shadow pulled quickly pulled away, letting blood spurt from his heart to the ground.

"NO!" screamed Brienne.

Renly fell forward into Brienne's arms, who gently held his body close and brought him to the ground.

"No, no, no, no," Brienne sobbed.

"What was that noise? What happened?! Follow me!" voices outside the tent exclaimed.

Two of Renly's Kingsguard knights, Ser Robar Royce and Ser Emmon Cuy, dashed inside the tent swords in hand to see Brienne kneeling over Renly's corpse drenched with his blood on her armor. In the confusion, both assume that she is responsible.

"Traitor!"

"You'll die for this!"

"You'll pay for the King's life with your own!"

"It wasn't me!" cried Brienne, but her now-former comrades refused to listen to her.

Without hesitation, both Robar and Emmon charged at Brienne. She moved faster as she unsheathed her sword to catch Emmon's blade on the downswing. A spark flashed blue-white as steel met steel with a rending crash, the body of the dead pretender King thrust rudely aside. Ser Emmon stumbled over it as he tried to close the gap and Brienne's blade sheared through the wooden haft to bring her blade slashing across Emmon with enough force to kill him.

Ser Robar charged forth, thrusting forward but missing Brienne and shattering the mirror. Brienne pushed Ser Robar away before swinging around to slash behind his knees, bringing Robar down. Left with no other choice, Brienne thrusted her sword down into the back of Robar's neck, killing him instantly.