Trials and Tribulations of the Oathkeeper

Chapter 112: Sparrows Strike, the Dragon Rises

"Have you learned anything from the Most Devout?" Trystane asked.

"Nothing that could be beneficial, unfortunately," Daveth shook his head. "Until a new High Septon is chosen, the Most Devout remains in a deadlock; unable to do anything. For now, it seems only Rosyn and Luceon are our only allies in the Faith of the Seven's leadership, yet..."

"What?"

"There was one who just rubbed me the wrong way."

"Think one of them could be involved?"

"Until we have proof or any leads to follow, all we have are theories and possible suspects. But don't worry about that part. Varys and I will work to resolve that. Our spy networks can coordinate better without both sides stepping on each other's toes."

Varys nodded.

"If I may," Yohn suggested. "While we strategize on our next course of action, I could have some of my own escorts keep close tabs on certain parties in the city."

"Who do you have in mind?" he asked.

Daveth felt a close hand on his shoulder. Turning his head, the Young Stag was slightly taken aback by a young woman staring at him – smiling almost eagerly. She was a short, fleshy and extremely buxom woman, broad of hip, thick of waist with a small mouth, a pair of lively brown eyes and brown curly hair framed round red cheeks. Daveth roughly estimated she was about roughly two years older than him.

"Myranda Royce, my cousin's daughter, has opted to come with me from the Gates of the Moon," the Lord of Runestone introduced her. "She might be a bit... ahem, frolicsome and play the merry fool... but underneath she's shrewder than her father, my brother Nestor. I'm certain she'll be of great assistance in the investigation."

Daveth cleared his throat. "Welcome to King's Landing, Lady Myranda," he greeted politely.

"It is a great honor to finally meet you in person, Your Grace," Myranda curtsied. "My friend Mya Stone has told me many things about you."

But you'll get no secrets from me. "And where is your... friend, my lady?"

"She's already on the streets. 'Hitting the ground running,' was what she said. Perhaps once we hear more of these horrible Sparrows plaguing these poor people, maybe we could present our findings to you personally?"

The Young Stag raised an eyebrow, feeling a little bit apprehensive. "So long as you keep your eyes peeled and ensure that you're not being shadowed, then that's fine."

"Oh, that would be great. Mya's been dying to meet you."

"A baseborn girl should not be paraded around His Grace at court," Pycelle chastised. "Such an act would bring him disgrace and scandal."

Myranda snorted. "Yet such disgrace and scandal has already befallen upon a man of your stature several years ago when you sold out His Grace when he arranged his only sister's marriage to the Prince of Dorne's son and heir despite swearing a solemn vow not to tell anyone of the sort." She gave a sigh. "Is that not the truth, Grand Maester?"

While Pycelle and a few councilors sputtered, Daveth appeared quite impressed.

"What of the other Tyrells?" Tyrion changed the subject. "Ser Loras and Lady Margaery?"

"Margaery is in the gardens with Tommen," Mace said, "Loras is sparring in the courtyard. Why?"

Before any could say anything, a royal steward entered the room. "Pardon the interruption, my lords. Your Grace," he lowered his head. "But the guards have caught an intruder trying to sneak into the castle. We have him in custody if you wish to question him yourself."