Chapter 16 Varys

(Hello everyone! So, this is a fanfic that I've been working on for a while now. I borrowed several elements from Game of Thrones and A Song of Ice and Fire. This is my first fanfic on this site, so constructive criticism is welcome. Appreciate!)

"It's a falsehood," said Lord Petyr Baelish as he stood before the Queen and the King in the small council chamber behind the throne room in the Red Keep at Kings Landing. Also seated were Lord Varys, Grand Maester Pycelle, and Lord Janos Slynt, Commander of the City Watch. Two large gold cloaks flanked Baelish on either side as he declared his innocence of the charge of treason. Baelish looked calm and was well dressed, as usual. He did not look like a man who had spent the last four days in the prisons of the Red Keep.

Varys observed Littlefinger and almost sighed but held it in. He knew Baelish was guilty of the charges against him, of telling the Stark's the dagger used in the attack on Brandon Stark belonged to Tyrion Lannister. He had been standing beside him when he told that story to Catelyn Stark more than a moons turn ago now. Accusing Tyrion Lannister was the minor charge, as far as these proceedings went. The second charge of treason, more specifically of inciting warfare between the Stark and Lannister Houses, was what could cost Baelish his head. But unless they could prove the first charge, there was nothing to the second.

The Queen stared at Baelish for a long moment. Joffrey wasn't even paying attention, looking very bored, as if he wanted to be somewhere else. Slynt also wished to be away, an abashed look on his face as if he had done something wrong. No doubt he was still stinging from the Queen's tongue lashing she gave him after the fiasco at the Gate of the Gods when Myrcella and Sansa Stark had left the city, Varys thought. Pycelle, however, seem very keen about what was going on, and that intrigued Varys not a bit. Pycelle was like a lap dog at his masters heels. He was a Lannister man, through and through, despite his oath of office which says he must serve whoever was sitting on the Iron Throne, and not take sides in any dynastic disputes.

Baelish continued speaking. "Who dares to make this accusation? I would like to face my accuser."

Oh, that was good. Varys knew as did Baelish that his accusers, the Starks, were over a hundred or more leagues to the north, far away.

Now the Queen spoke, staring at Baelish intently. "This accusation comes from Eddard Stark and his wife. My father has spoken to Eddard Stark. He claims that you told Catelyn Stark that the dagger used in the attack on their son belonged to my brother."

"I never said such a thing to Catelyn Stark. I have not seen her in many years, Your Grace," Baelish replied, lying through his teeth, Varys knew. "I believe she and her husband are trying to justify her kidnapping of your brother by laying some of the blame at my door."

Pycelle cleared his throat with a small rumble. "Are there any other witnesses to this conversation Catelyn Stark claims she had with you?"

"As the conversation did not take place, I cannot see how there would be," Baelish answered.

The Queen now turned to Varys. "Well, master of whispers, what have you discovered in your investigation?"

Everything, Varys wanted to say, but he couldn't, and for the very reason that for once in a very long time someone had outsmarted him at his own game. That someone was Littlefinger, and it galled Varys to no end.

The Queen had order Baelish arrested and confined to the black cells as soon as she received the raven from her father with Ned Stark's accusations. Her father left it up to her to deal with it, and in her special way she had botched it from the beginning. Instead of calling on Varys and telling him this news, she had Baelish arrested immediately and all his papers and ledgers concerning the finances of the realm were confiscated. On hearing this news Varys had known it was a botched job. Much as he despised Baelish, he knew the realm needed him, if for only a little more time.

Baelish made gold appear as if from thin air, and the realm needed gold for its war to come. Few men had the skill Baelish did, and much as it pained Varys, he knew a Baelish under arrest was of no use to anyone. Even his death would do nothing but placate Ned Stark and Tyrion Lannister's anger. The war had started and even if Littlefinger had some part in its origins as Varys now suspected with a certainty, there was nothing Baelish's arrest or death could do to stop it.

Varys had hurried to the Queen to ask her to release Baelish, or at least put him under house arrest, while he began a full investigation. She had snarled at him in anger and asked what plot he and Baelish were cooking up now. When she calmed down Cersei told him to inquire but to leave Baelish rot in the black cells for three or four days and perhaps then he would confess his crimes.

Three or four hours would have been too long to leave Baelish unattended in prison, but three or four days was a lifetime for such a man to do what he did best, win over people to his side with the magic sound of coins clinking together. Varys could not very well go to Baelish in his disguise as Rugen because that was something he wanted no one else to know about. Ned Stark already knew, and that was one person too many already. He tried to get inside as himself but the goalers were insistent that the Queen said no one could see Baelish yet.

Of course, by the time he managed to get in with the Queen's permission, Baelish was no longer in the black cells. He was in an upper level one, one that actually had a barred window. It was large, designed for twenty or so men, but the cells were empty since the Nights' Watch party had taken almost all the prisoners. When Baelish entered the cell Littlefinger was sitting at a table, enjoying a meal of roast beef and boiled potatoes and carrots, the table covered in fine linen, the plate and utensils the best money could buy, and there was a fine bottle of Arbor gold next to a half full crystal wine glass. He was dressed well and had his mocking bird pin on as usual. The cell was well lit with a lantern and several candles. There was actually a bed with a mattress in the corner and a nice porcelain chamber pot, not the bucket they usually leave for prisoners.

"Ah, Lord Varys," he said with a smile. "Do sit down."

Varys sat in the chair opposite him as the gaolers left and locked the door. "I must say dear Petyr, you have made life quite comfortable for yourself while a prisoner."

"Yes," Baelish said with his usual grin. "And it only took twenty minutes of hints to my guards that life would be much better for all of us if I did not rot in a black cell."

"Hints of promises of coin, no doubt."

"No doubt. Coin now paid, and with more to come in the future, if my stay is extended."

"And if the Queen should hear of this arrangement?" Varys asked as he looked around the room. "I think a few gaolers will be short a few heads."

"All men must take risks to get anywhere in life," Baelish replied.

"As you have on many occasions."

Baelish smiled, sat back and took a sip of wine. "Arbor gold," he said with a long sigh. "I'd offer you some but there is no other glass."

"No matter. I prefer to keep my wits about me when dealing with traitors," Varys replied.

Baelish set his glass down. "So we come to it. What are the charges?"

"The Queen has heard the most dreadful story about you and Catelyn Stark. It seems you told her and her husband that the dagger an assassin used in Winterfell to try to kill Brandon Stark was the property of one Tyrion Lannister, the Queen's brother."

Baelish looked surprised, but not really. He had expected this. "Really? And how did the Queen come to hear of this story?"

"From her father, who heard it from Ned Stark himself at Harrenhal. Or from Tyrion who heard it from Ned, or from both of them. The details I do not know exactly."

"It is odd that such a story is circulating when I never happened to tell it," Baelish said.

This was too much and Varys just scoffed. "Oh, come Petyr, you know I was there. You know I heard the whole thing. I even cut my poor finger on that deadly dagger."

Now Baelish's eyes flashed dangerously. "Did you? Perhaps you are mistaken. Perhaps you were somewhere else that day. Perhaps you were with another person, having another conversation, cutting your finger on another dagger.'

That gave Varys pause. He raised his eyebrows. "Oh? Please, do tell me where I was when you threw a Valyarian steel dagger into a wall and told Catelyn Stark that Tyrion won the same dagger from you when Ser Loras unhorsed Ser Jamie at Joffrey's name day tournament a year past?"

"I seem to recall seeing you with a foreign friend of yours."

Varys stared at him. "Do go on." He had met a foreign friend, not on the day Baelish mentioned, but on another, about a week later, and he had thought he had been so discrete.

"This foreign friend, from across the Narrow Sea. He and you were whispering, in the lower levels. You were discussing something, I know not all the details. But I did hear two words from the ears and eyes I own that did peak my interest."

"Two words? Is that all?"

"Yes. Two names actually. Both of them Targaryen names. Daenerys and Aegon."

"What of it?" Varys asked calmly. He could not know that, that was impossible.

"Now why would you be discussing Targaryens with a foreigner?"

"Telling the history of our Seven Kingdoms perhaps. I do not recall the conversation entirely."

"Not your Seven Kingdoms, Lord Varys. You are from the Free Cities, are you not?"

Varys smiled. "Everyone of importance knows that. Lord Tywin for one, the Queen certainly, and even Joffrey I am sure. If there is a point to all this please make it."

Baelish smiled. "You were never in that room. You never heard anything. Catelyn Stark was in King's Landing to be sure. Others saw her and her companion Ser Rodrik, so that cannot be entirely denied. But I did not see her, nor did you. She asked about the dagger, she met with Ned, and that was it."

So that's his game. "And if I tell the Queen the truth? That you claimed the dagger was Tyrion's, that you helped the Stark's believe the Lannister's had something to do with their son's attack, which in its roundabout way started a war. What will happen to me then?"

"With my last breath before they lock my cell door forever or before Ser Ilyn Payne's sword falls I will tell them you are involved in a conspiracy to return the Targaryens to the throne."

Varys stared at him and there was a long moment when neither said a word. Finally Varys spoke. "Your proof? A few whispers in the dark overheard by ears not your own?"

Now Baelish smiled. "A few whispers are all it will take in Cersei's ears. You know what she is like. You have been by her side for almost fifteen years. She thought you were her friend at first, bringing her all the juiciest gossip of the realm and the court. But now she knows you for what you are and despises you. She is power hungry, vindictive, and above all paranoid. She sees plots behind every door, and under every rock there is a spider. It would not take much for her to believe me. She already knows you have contacts across the Narrow Sea, contacts that have been keeping a close watch on Rhaegar's brother and sister for many years. Strange how it took an angry Dothraki horse lord to finally kill Viserys when you most likely knew where he was all this time. She will twist that in her mind and wonder if Lord Varys has played her and her dead husband false all these years. Then she will crush you."

"The Queen could crush me anytime she likes. She is the Queen, after all."

"Queen Regent now, actually. But she has need of you yet. However, if she thinks you are planning to remove her beloved Joffrey and her from power, well, I don't think she will have need of you much longer."

Varys sighed heavily. "Dear Petyr, it pains me that we have come to this."

"Why, my dear Varys, you always knew we would. You play your game, I play mine, and someday we knew they would become one and the same and we would clash."

"In the game of thrones the players always clash before the end," Varys said, as he stood. "It's who survives at the end that matters. And I have a good idea that Ned Stark, despite the mistakes he has made, will be one of those still standing. He is no friend of yours. And Starks are similar to Lannisters in some ways despite their hatred of each other. They tend to pay their debts, eventually."

Baelish let out a short laugh. "If you think Tywin Lannister will ever let Ned Stark reach Winterfell, then you truly do not know all the players."

"Perhaps. But I would not count dear old Ned out of the game yet. Oh, dear, time flies. I do enjoy bandying words with you but there is a council meeting."

And so Varys had left him. Baelish's face was grinning and his words were still ringing in Varys ears. He was right of course. The Queen would have him in the torture chamber in no time if she heard such rumors. And poor Varys knew he could never stand torture. His most delicate parts were already gone, but there were other parts they could take, and pain they could inflict, and he was never a friend of pain. He would have to kill himself if they came for him, otherwise his tongue would betray all the plans that had been laid for so many years.

The next day Littlefinger was brought before the council and the charges presented to him to give him a chance to declare his innocence or guilt. Now the Queen's question to Varys hung in the air and he knew he could crush Littlefinger with ease. But he knew Littlefinger could do the same to him. Stand off.

Varys spoke. "I have learned that Catelyn Stark was indeed in King's Landing."

"When?" Joffrey demanded before Varys could speak again.

"More than a moon's turn past, Your Grace," Varys told him. "Perhaps a week before your uncle was taken prisoner at the crossroads inn. That was a chance meeting. From the reports I have it is …"

"Forget the inn," Cersei snapped. "What was she doing in King's Landing?"

"Making inquires about the dagger," Varys said and as he said it he looked at Joffrey, not the Queen. The day they had agreed to let Ned Stark take the black Joffrey had been quite put out about the talk of the attack on Brandon Stark. Now as Varys mentioned Catelyn Stark had been here asking about the dagger, Joffrey turned away from his look and fiddled with a gold brooch holding his cloak in place.

Cersei spoke and Varys looked back to her. "How did she get in the city? Who did she see?"

"She came by ship, and landed at the docks on the Blackwater in disguise as a common traveler. Her castellan, Ser Rodrik Cassel came with her. He made inquires about the dagger with your man-at-arms but learned nothing. Then she met with her husband, at least once. After that she left the city."

"Did she meet with Lord Baelish?" Cersei asked him quickly. "Are there any other witnesses?"

"None that I could find. There is no evidence she ever met with Lord Baelish," said Varys and he knew Baelish had him, as did Baelish, who said nothing and kept his features still, but Varys could see the triumph in his eyes.

Now Cersei had turned to look at Baelish sharply. "Did you meet with Catelyn Stark or not?"

"No, Your Grace."

Cersei looked at him for a long moment and then looked back to Varys. "I should have both your heads off," she snarled. Joffrey suddenly looked interested in the proceedings again. "You think Catelyn Stark would take Tyrion hostage without good reason? You think this mummer's farce you two are playing can fool me? I want the truth!" The last word was a shout and rang through the small council chamber.

"The truth, Your Grace," began Baelish, talking calmly. "The truth is that Catelyn Stark is unbalanced. All the Tullys are a bit touched. You remember Lysa Arryn? Her sister is of the same blood and temperament. Catelyn's son was attacked, she was wounded, according to what we have heard. A mother would do anything to protect her children, Your Grace, as I am sure you know. When she saw her husband perhaps he planted the notion of Lord Tyrion's guilt in her mind. With a mind that distraught it would only take a few whispered words to make her believe it. She was always very trusting of people, to a fault. Her husband more than anyone I am sure." As they trusted you, Varys thought, before you betrayed Ned. Did you do it for the love of a girl you could never have?

Now Cersei spoke and she surprised Varys. "As he lay on his sick bed with his broken leg Stark told Robert and me that he commanded Catelyn to seize Tyrion. Commanded his wife to lay hands on my blood!"

Varys almost groaned and wondered who was really being accused here. And Cersei had no love for Tyrion. Varys knew she secretly wished he had died in the Vale.

Baelish seized on her comment. "Done as a prelude to his attempt to take the Iron Throne, no doubt."

At these words Joffrey came to life. "All Starks are traitors!"

Now Slynt spoke for the first time, eagerly supporting Joffrey's notion. "They are a foul bunch indeed, these Starks."

"Yes," said Pycelle, taking up the cause. "Accusing Lord Tyrion was all part of a Stark plot to bring on war so the Starks could remove Your Grace from the throne and take it for themselves. Luckily we foiled that plot."

Varys said nothing and wondered if they had all gone mad. Stark did not want the throne. He had just wanted to protect Robert, and then when he realized Robert was beyond saving, he just wanted to go home. If they even looked at the sequence of events from a point of logic they would see right through Baelish. But people who feared their enemies never really used logic much. Pycelle was a sycophant and that would not change. Slynt was trying to recover some of his esteem lost during the riots. And Joffrey…he was a different matter, but what he was thinking Varys did not know yet.

Cersei shook her head in disgust. "This is getting us nowhere." She looked at Baelish. "I think we have no choice but to hold you for a trial, Lord Baelish, since you won't confess your crimes and I know not if you planted the idea that Tyrion owned that dagger in the Stark's minds or not. It seems we must await my brother's return to the capital to find the truth of these accusations about a dagger."

"There is another way," Joffrey said, with a look on his face Varys did not like.

Cersei hesitated, then looked to her son. "Yes?"

Joffrey grinned. "I've heard there are torture chambers in the bowels of the castle. Let's let Lord Baelish visit them for a while. Then we will have the truth."

Cersei looked like she almost was about to agree and Varys could not have that. Oh, truths they would have from Petyr, too many for Varys own safety. "Your Grace," Varys spoke up. "The truth one gets from prisoners in pain is often the truth the inquisitors want to hear, not the real truth."

"Quite so," said Pycelle and Varys almost died from shock. Pycelle going against the King! A first, to be sure.

Joffrey looked angry and that was always dangerous, but then he just scoffed. "I care not. I don't see why we are still endlessly discussing what happened to a traitor's brat."

Cersei sighed. "We must discuss it, my son, because we need to know if we have another traitor in our midst." She looked back to Baelish. "You will be confined to your quarters until such a time as a trial can be arranged."

"Your Grace, I look forward to a trial to prove my innocence," Baelish said, and Varys detected a hint of relief in his tone. "Meanwhile, who will be master of coin? I will gladly show them the ins and outs of managing and balancing the kingdom's books."

Cersei had a look of indecision on her face, and Varys knew that she had not thought his far ahead. With the realm at war, how could she have not? "Who do you suggest?" the Queen asked Baelish.

Much as he hated to do it Varys knew he had to say something again or they would surely all fall into ruin, and Stannis and Renly would win and they would all be soon dead. "I think Lord Baelish can resume his duties, from the confines of his quarters, of course. We should not trust the realm's finances at so precarious a time to any other."

"Fine," the Queen said grudgingly as she looked to Baelish. "You will resume your duties, from the confines of your quarters. And not one of your whore houses. You will stay here in the Red Keep. You will have access to your books and whoever you need to help you. I think there is no need to say that if anything goes amiss with the realm's finances while you are awaiting trial it will not go well for you."

"I am sure I am up to the job, Your Grace," Baelish said and then with a flick of her hand the two gold cloaks took Baelish from the room.

"He's a traitor," Joffrey said as soon as Baelish was gone. "He's a liar and a traitor. We should torture him. He started all this. He told the Stark's it was my uncle. Why else would they accuse him of something he did not do? He lied to us!" Maybe Joffrey was not as stupid as Varys thought. Or maybe he knew something else. Maybe he knew who really paid someone to attack the Stark boy.

"Perhaps," said Cersei. "But for now Littlefinger has his uses. And we can always torture the truth out of him later. Now, my lords, I believe we have other matters to discuss."

She looked to Varys and Varys spoke directly to Joffrey. "Wonderful news from across the Narrow Sea, Your Grace. Khal Drogo is dead."

Joffrey smiled broadly and pounded his fist on the table. "Good! How did he die? I hope it was bloody and painful!"

"The details I know not," said Varys. "But once he died, most of his people abandoned his wife and close supporters. The Dothraki are now in turmoil, and several leaders have emerged to challenge for Khal Drogo's place. We have naught to fear of the Dothraki for some time to come."

"What of the Targaryen girl, his wife?" asked Pycelle immediately.

"There is no word," Varys replied. "According to Dothraki tradition when her husband died she was to go back to their capital and go into mourning for the rest of her life with the other women who have lost their horse lord husbands. But she is not Dothraki, and I doubt she would submit to such a life."

"Endeavor to find out as much as you can, Lord Varys," the Queen commanded and he dipped his head in acknowledgement. Baelish was right; she did still need him. "Now the war, my lords," Cersei said and turned to Slynt. "How are the city defenses?"

"Growing stronger, Your Grace," he replied. "I have almost six thousand men in service now, but the quality is not the best. Many are young men who are in need of coin and food, but have had little training. I fear they will not be much use when battle comes. We have many catapults and other siege weapons and plenty of arrows and other weapons. What we lack are trained men to wield them. We have a smattering of knights and some few hundred of your remaining household guards, but it is not enough to make a difference. "

"My father's army will be here soon," Cersei told them. "He is preparing to sign a peace treaty with Robb Stark. Where is Renly's army now?"

"But twenty leagues distance," said Varys. "Two or three day's swift march and he will be at the gates. However, our scouts report he has not moved for two days now. Something seems to have arrested his movement."

"That is good," said Pycelle. "Perhaps Lord Tywin can crush him without the city coming under siege."

"Let him come!" Joffrey snarled. "I would gladly face him or Stannis in single combat!"

Cersei smiled, a thin smile, without warmth. "Yes, that would settle matters rather quickly." She turned back to Varys. "And Stannis? What news of him?"

"Still on Dragonstone, according to the latest reports. But Your Grace, these reports are almost four days old."

Her eyes flashed. "So he could be sailing up the Blackwater as we speak?" she snapped.

"No, Your Grace," Slynt said. "We have many small boats on Blackwater Bay. They will raise the alarm if Stannis' fleet approaches."

"And what of our fleet?" Joffrey asked. "Where is it now?"

"At anchor in the Blackwater Rush," said Varys. "Awaiting battle that will surely come. We will be outnumbered, but the captains feel the best strategy is to draw Stannis up the Blackwater Rush and destroy his fleet piecemeal."

"What if they don't do it?" Cersei asked. "What if they land below the Red Keep and storm one of the gates on foot?"

"All of the gates are prepared for battle, Your Grace," Slynt told her. "Plenty of oil, rocks, and arrows are there. We just need more men."

"Yes, you keep saying that, and…" Then a man entered, one of Pycelle assistants, and he hurriedly apologized for intruding and brought Pycelle a small raven scroll. Pycelle thank his man and then unrolled it.

"From your father," he said to the Queen. "Gregor Clegane and two thousand men are riding to the city now."

"That is a beginning," said Cersei and the flicker of a smile played across her fine features. "And the rest of the army?"

"No word, Your Grace," Pycelle told her. "Your father also mentions that Lord Tyrion is leaving Harrenhal soon to take up his duties as Hand of the King."

Joffrey scoffed as Pycelle handed the letter to Cersei. "Two thousand men and a dwarf? What good is that? I commanded my grandfather to bring his whole army here!"

"Ser Gregor is a fearsome warrior, Your Grace," Slynt said. "He and his men will be most welcome."

"Perhaps Lord Tyrion will have more news of Lord Tywin's plans when he arrives," Pycelle added.

"Perhaps," said Cersei as she finished reading the letter. "Well, at least we will have some more information about Baelish and the dagger soon enough. That is all my lords. Please see to your duties. We will meet again the same time on the morrow."

They all made their goodbyes and soon Varys was back in his quarters and had a nice long drink of lemon water before reading the reports that were soon coming to him.

More about food shortages, something Cersei avoiding talking about at the meeting. Of course, there were no food shortages in the Red Keep. The mass of small folk outside the city walls was growing smaller. That was a first. Some had died, he knew, from starvation. Other had left, going back to their farms as they began to hear rumors peace had come to the Riverlands. Rumors Varys men had helped spread in the camps. Others fled in fear, as Varys men spread more rumors about Renly and Stannis' approach. Well, those were not exactly rumors.

A few hours later as Varys supped alone, one of his little birds came to him and told him Baelish was in his quarters and had an endless stream of visitors. Most were men, some women, and all stayed a short time and then left. What they discussed, the little bird did not know as he could not get close enough. Varys paid the little bird and then sat back and thought on it. Baelish giving orders to his people. For his many business ventures of course. And for whatever else he was up to.

It still galled Varys that Baelish had out maneuvered him at his own game. It might be time to put on a more concerted effort to uncover what Littlefinger was really up to. As Varys thought on this there was a sudden knock on his door and one of his paid guards with the gold cloaks entered.

"My lord," the man began with a short bow. "Your man from the south is outside the Mud Gate. Wants a word. The usual place he said."

"Very well," Varys answered. "Tell him one hour."

Thirty minutes later Varys left the Red Keep through one of its many secret tunnels, in one of his many disguises, this time as a fisherman, as he would be mingling with such. His clothes were rough, made of wool and seal skins, his boots made of whale skin, a dagger on his belt with a whale's tooth handle. He smelled of brine and fish guts. His face was covered in a coarse black beard, his bald head covered with a fisherman's sealskin hat.

The meeting place was a tavern by the wharves near the Mud Gate and the man had already taken a corner table in a dark recess of the place. As Varys sat he ordered ale from the tavern wench and settled down to talk. The place was full and noisy and no one would overhear them. The man opposite him was dressed as a fisherman as well, and had a dark complexion, a black mustache, thick black hair and bushy eyebrows. He would be seen as a Dornishman by many, but Varys knew he was from the Reach.

"How are things in the south?" Varys asked as he drank the weak ale and forced himself not to make a face at its disgusting taste.

"Renly's army is taking a leisurely stroll up the Roseroad, as you know by now," the man said in a low voice.

"He has been stopped for the last two days."

"Quite so," said the man. "He fears his brother will bugger him from behind, not that he would mind that too much."

Varys ignored the jape and raised his eyebrows. "Oh? The last I heard Stannis is still on Dragonstone."

"He sailed many days ago with more than half his ships if the count is right."

Varys nodded and held his surprise in check. "And you know this how?"

"It so happens I was on guard duty outside a holdfast where Renly was spending the night when a rider came up to the gates and shouted to the king that his brother Stannis was sailing to Storm's End. They had a raven from Tarth. The next day Stannis' fleet arrived at Storm's End and put a strong force ashore. Not as many as Renly has, but enough to start a siege. Renly and the horse went to stop him. The foot stayed on the Roseroad and is waiting on events."

"How many horse? How many foot?"

"Maybe ten thousand horse, more than enough to deal with what Stannis put ashore if the reports are true. Foot, maybe sixty thousand, or more."

"Quite an assemblage," Varys said. They talked more on minor details and then a bag of silver was passed under the table and the man said he would head south as soon as he could.

Varys knew this news could not wait and when he was clean and refreshed and in his sky blue robes he went to Cersei's quarters. Her two guards outside her doors stopped him.

"The Queen is resting," one Lannister man said.

"I have news she must hear."

He hesitated. They both knew who he was, and then the other one nodded and knocked. Varys swore he heard the sound of female laughter. From Cersei?

The door opened a bit and Lancel Lannister was there. "The Queen wishes not to be…Lord Varys?"

"Yes, Lancel. How are you this fine evening?"

Before he could answer Cersei shouted in a cross tone "Who is it?"

"Lord Varys," Lancel said, his face betraying plenty of guilt. Oh, I already know, Varys said to himself, no need to look so guilty. I know you have been fucking her, even before Robert died. I know you gave him the strong wine that helped kill him.

"Send him in," Cersei said. She knew Varys would not disturb her without good reason.

He entered her chambers and saw he interrupted a small party. There was a platter of wine and cheese and bread and fruit on a small table, next to a flagon of wine. A wood harp was on a seat and Cersei had a cup of wine in hand and already seemed tipsy.

"Lord Varys!" she said in a loud voice from where she sat on a plush chair. "Wine?"

"I must decline, Your Grace. I bring tidings of the war."

She suddenly seemed more sober. "Lancel, my dear cousin, thank you for your help in that small matter. I shall call on you soon."

Lancel looked like he wanted to protest and then he just bowed slightly. "Yes, Your Grace. Good night."

After he left, Cersei drank some more and then stared at Varys. "Well, what is it?"

"Stannis has sailed for Storm's End."

"When?" she asked in an instant, on her feet, her eyes on fire.

"Many days ago, apparently. He has already arrived and landed a force outside the castle. Renly has split his force in two, taking almost all his cavalry to meet him. The foot remains on the Roseroad."

"Gods!" she exulted and drank her wine in one gulp and quickly poured another cup as she spoke to him. "Lord Varys, if you were a man I would kiss you and bed you this instant."

"That would be quite difficult to accomplish, Your Grace."

"Quite," she said with a knowing smile. "They are fighting each other! Oh, this is too good to be true." Then she looked at him in suspicion. "Who told you this?"

"A well paid spy, who has worked for me for many years. I trust him."

"Good," she said. "But we must confirm it. How?"

"Our scouts should get as close as they can to the infantry on the Roseroad. If they see no large mass of cavalry I think that should confirm it."

"I will give the orders at once. You go to Pycelle. Tell him the news. Send my father a raven. This is the opportunity we have been waiting for. They are fighting each other. Renly is divided. Now he must come! He must strike!"

"Yes, Your Grace. At once. Shall I tell the King?"

She laughed and drank some more. "The King? My son, the great warrior going to face Renly and Stannis in single combat? Perhaps then we'll see if he is really his father's son or not."

Did she mean Robert or Jaime? They were both great warriors. She looked at Varys, looked at him closely as if she knew what he was thinking.

"Sit," she said suddenly and it was not an invitation but a command.

Varys sat and she sat opposite him on the plush, wide chair, pulling her legs up under her as her silken skirts wrapped around her legs.

Cersei looked at him carefully. "You know the rumors Stannis is spreading?"

"Yes, Your Grace. I would not be much good to you if I did not know of such lies."

She smiled slightly. "And what do the small folk say? Do they think Stannis lies as well?"

"No, Your Grace. They are willing to believe anything about the high born that make them look weak or foolish."

She bristled at that. "They are all idiots anyway. But Ned Stark believed it."

"I know."

"Why did he believe it?"

"He read the history of House Baratheon. All children in the male line are black haired and blue eyed for many generations. And he saw Robert's bastard son, who looks very much like Robert. Jon Arryn and Stannis saw him as well. They are all intelligent men. It did not take them long to come to the conclusion that your children are not Robert's."

She merely snorted. "A conclusion that serves their own ends for usurping Joffrey."

"Yes."

Cersei sighed, looked at her wine glass, drank a little. "Joffrey has heard. He has asked me. Of course I told him it was all lies."

"Of course." Why was she talking to me about all this? Varys thought. Is she about to confess what I've known for years to be true? No, that was not to be.

Cersei drank again and smiled. "Soon Jaime will be free. Then he and Father will crush Stannis and Renly. It is time we ended all this nonsense and send the Baratheon brothers to join Robert in the grave." She then nodded to the door. "See to the letter to my father."

It was a dismissal and Varys stood, bowed, and left. As he walked he wondered if it would all turn out as she expected. Would her father come as fast as she hoped? Would Renly defeat Stannis or the would the opposite occur? And who would join poor Robert in the cold ground? Whatever happened, Varys had to make sure it was not him or all the plans laid so many years ago would come to nothing, and the true king of the Seven Kingdoms would not stand a chance of taking back his family's throne.