The King of Winters

Chapter 58

"Do it," Rhaegar said calmly.

Jon Connington took a moment to catch his breath and then started reading. When he was done, Rhaegar looked around the table to see the faces of his council members. Everyone of them had gone pale. The eunuch hid his features nicely but the king saw the shock evident on his plump powdered face. He could see Littlefinger calculating at the very moment, no matter placing his bets. Even Ser Gerold showed a flicker of surprise.

"These are the terms the boy king offers me," Rhaegar said after a while.

Littlefinger scoffed. "Stark has got some balls, no doubt of it," he said mockingly. "I bet he is all talk."

"He killed a dragon and sent my son to the Wall. Sure this is all talk for you," Rhaegar said acidly. "Damn him and damn me. I knew this day would come sooner or later. We hunted the pack but let the pup get away and now the pup has grown up into a wolf and is back to hunt us. I knew this would happen and that's why I asked Viserys to get the boy at all costs. Instead my brother was so interested in Ashara Dayne's cunt that he seemingly forgot her son and what I had asked him to do."

"If only Prince Viserys had caught him in the first place," Mace Tyrell spoke quietly.

Rhaegar snorted disdainfully. "If only Ned Stark hadn't bred Ashara Dayne in the first place," he said to his master of laws. "Can you go and stop Eddard Stark from fucking a babe into his wife, Lord Tyrell?"

Tyrell shook his head. Rhaegar continued, "Yes, I believed so. You can't stop it from happening no more than you can blame it on Viserys. The cow has been milked there is no way of squirting the milk back into its udders. No good ever comes from thinking about the past."

The king turned to his hand. "Jon you have the Stormlands with you, yes?"

"Yes, your grace," Lord Connington bowed his head. "My cousin rules in my stead."

"Good," Rhaegar said. "Send a raven to him and ask him to call the banners. We cannot let Robert join with this boy."

He looked at Lord Tyrell. "Send a raven to your heir and get him to call your banners," Rhaegar commanded. "Send one of your sons to Highgarden and march your army back up north, my lord."

"At once, your grace," the lord of Highgarden said.

"If it is war he wants then he shall have war," Rhaegar told his council. "If he thinks himself to be the next Eddard Stark I'll show him how I killed the first one. We should march on Stark at once before he could join forces with Jon Arryn and Robert Baratheon."

"Pylos, send a raven to Sunspear and ask Doran Martell to call his spears. I've had enough of this Born King stupidity and I intend to make him a legend quickly. Now, leave me. All of you."

Ever the soul of obedience, his council members rose to depart, one by one, even Ser Gerold. "

Rhaegar eased himself back onto his chair. He poured the wine from the flagon into his cup and took a sip thoughtfully. The rich Arbor gold was cool in his mouth.

A decade of peace and still Eddard Stark manages to trouble him from his grave. Curse him and his bones. Curse me for trusting Viserys and Slynt. All I have are lickspittles, lackeys and jackanaps. Even his own son had failed him. The dragon falling before a wolf. Madness. Absolute madness. Rhaegar wondered what his father would think of that.

Stark is the true power threatening his realm, the same way his father once did. Taking him out will cripple the north once more. But he had to do it somehow. He reached for his wine, and considered for a moment as he sipped. It was the last thing Rhaegar Targaryen would ever have anticipated. But somehow the time for it had arrived.

He finished his wine and set the cup aside, thoughtful. A part of him was more pleased to end the boy than he cared to admit. Another part was remembering the battle in the north, and wondering if he was about to repeat it again.

Rhaegar stood abruptly, and made for the door. Outside the moon had already taken the place in the clear, starless sky. He took a long breath and climbed down the stairs leading to the lower floor. The king crossed the Traitor's Walk which led to the squat, half-round tower through where the dungeons could be accessed. The top floor of the tower held the cells for prisoners kept in a degree of comfort, to the knights and lordlings who might be ransomed. The entrance to the dungeons sat on the ground floor. Rhaegar made his descent down to the dungeons. It was not far away. Soon he came upon the hammered iron door which stood at the entrance of the dungeons.