The King of Winters

Chapter-101

"As you wish," Lyanna said. "Would you stand guard at the doors as well? That won't be necessary. I can give you my pledge that I shall attempt no escape."

Oswell Whent plainly ignored her pledge and turned away from her, but sad-eyed Lewyn Martell lingered a moment after his sworn brother took his leave. "It was a grave thing you did, my lady, but his grace would be hard pressed to punish or condemn his own lady wife."

Lyanna would have laughed any other time at that. Of all the people he should know better. Rhaegar wrote a bloody end to your niece and her children. The princess of Dorne had been his wife as well and that had not helped her when the red priest had come for them. Lyanna wondered if that was going to be her fate as well? It would be a poor way to leave this world. At least Rhaegar hadn't let go of them in vain. No, he earned much and more just as the Red Priest had promised. She would most likely die in vain. For the first time in years Lyanna thought about the nameless, faceless gods of the Starks. And she couldn't do anything else but for pray now and she did. She had done all she could; nothing remained but to hope.

When her own door had been closed and barred, Lyanna explored her new home and prison. It was definitely a better one than Rhaegar had given Ashara Dayne where the Lady of the Stars was condemned to die out in darkness. Her cell was large and airy, and did not lack for comforts. There were Myrish carpets on the floor, red wine to drink, food to eat and even books to read. In one corner stood an ornate armoured suit, much bigger than her. She even had a featherbed to sleep in. This high up, the views were splendid. One window opened to the east, so she could watch the sun rise above the sea. The other allowed her to look down upon the city, and the waves and port beyond.

Hers was a gentle prison.

Lyanna took solace from that at least. At least Rhaegar went to such great pains to provide for her comfort in captivity even if he had marked her for a traitor's death? He cannot mean to kill me, she told herself a hundred times. He does not have it in him to be so cruel. Yet everytime she said that the faces of Elia Martell and her sweet little babes came in front of her eyes. She was less certain about it all then, whether he would show her anything other than what he had shown them.

Her things were moved into her cell in the tower, with its high canopied bed covered in fresh linens with drapes of black and red hanging low from the posters, its pillars carved in the shapes of dragons and wyrms and wyverns. Her chests brought down through the long way up the stairs by the servants along with plates of hot meal and pitchers of wine should she like it. The King had given her a more lenient punishment as befitting her status as a highborn lady, she thought. In her place anyone else would have simply lost their head at once, she knew that very well. She wondered what happened to the poor fisherman she had included in her conniving. Her husband was not one to take such a slight lightly. It would really be a merciful fate if he was already dead.

The exploration took less time than it would have taken her to lace a pair of sandals, but at least it served to keep the tears at bay for a time. Lyanna found a basin and a flagon of cool water and washed her hands and face, but no amount of scrubbing could cleanse her of her grief. Jaehaerys, she thought, my sweet boy. And Aegon. . . Tears filled her eyes, and suddenly she was weeping, her whole body wracked by sobs. She remembered how the blue sword shined in the night and froze the fire, the way the corpse struck with a dozen arrows floated down the river to get tangled with the river reeds, the fire on his chest snuffed out.

She went out to the tower and stood looking into the great wide sea. Beyond the point of the hill upon which the Red Keep sat she could see the swift waves of the Blackwater Bay crashing into the base of the hill and a long way beyond downriver. If only the boat with the black sail had set sail past these waters, it would have been a great victory for her at least. The surface of the waters was empty now though. She didn't know if she should thank the gods for that or curse them for it.