Chapter 23 Jaime

The Lannister host arrived at King's Landing late in the afternoon of the same day that the news that Stannis Baratheon had destroyed the Tyrell host reached the city. The news took three days to reach King's Landing. The men who had been entrusted to protect Lord Baelish told the terrible tale, or what little they knew of it at least. They had seen fire spread across the fields and engulf the Tyrell camp and then they had fled before they were overwhelmed. When the leader of Baelish's group reported to the King and Queen Regent, Cersei had him dragged off and hung for failing to rescue Lord Baelish from the debacle. The body now dangled from the battlements over the King's Gate near the southwestern corner of the city.

Ser Jaime Lannister had known none of this yet while he and his father and uncle Kevan and the other commanders sat on their horses while their men marched off the Kingsroad and began to deploy into the fields southwest of the city along the banks of the Blackwater Rush. Lord Tywin immediately ordered patrols to take the ferry across the river and at the same time the men were told to build defenses on the river banks to forestall any crossing by Stannis' army. Patrols were also sent upriver to where the first bridge and fords across the river stood.

As the men moved into position, the large commander's pavilion was going up in a field and Jaime's father waved them forward towards it. "Come, we have much to discuss."

"Shouldn't we see the King first, Tywin?" Kevan Lannister asked.

"Bending the knee to my grandson is the least of my worries now, Kevan," Tywin Lannister said in a grim tone. "Renly Baratheon is dead, I know not where the Tyrells are nor Stannis Baratheon's army or fleet. We will see to our security first, and pay honors to the King later."

They rode toward the pavilion where many men were hurrying to set up benches and tables. They also began to light braziers and cooking fires. All around them the great host was preparing defenses and lighting fires for the evening meal.

Jaime climbed off his horse, and a squire took it away. He was wearing borrowed chain mail and had a sword at his side he did not feel comfortable with. All his belongings he had been captured with in the Whispering Wood had 'gone missing' according to Robb Stark when they released him from his cell. No doubt his expensive armor and arms would soon adorn a wall in some smoky great hall that smelled of cow shit in some northern hovel they called a castle. As the lord drank his piss ale and gnawed on a fatty bone of mutton he would regale his subjects with tales of how he unhorsed the great Jaime Lannister in battle. No one had unhorsed him while he still had a sword in his hand. He had been surrounded and struck in the head from behind and dragged off his horse. Six or seven of them had felt the sting of his steel before that had happened, but Robb Stark had not been one of them. Jaime did not know why it vexed him so, but this boy half his age rankled him to no end. Maybe it was because he had never been defeated in battle before. Oh, for certain he had lost a tournament or two, but when life was on the line he had always won. Until now.

Jaime felt his body ache as he climbed down from his horse. He was sore and tired and out of shape. Sitting in a Tully prison cell for over a month had robbed him of much of his vitality and strength. Slowly he felt his body get back into its former condition as they rode south. First, they had stopped at Harrenhal and his father ordered Ser Amory Lorch out to Maidenpoole with one thousand men to find Vargo Hoat and kill him and bring his head back to Lord Tywin.

Jamie had also seen his daughter Princess Myrcella there and spoke with her briefly to say hello. She had been happy to see him and said she was glad he was free and well. His father had told him she would be a hostage to the Starks and would soon leave under escort with the Hound and fifty men towards the Twins. Jaime did not like that one bit, and when he talked to the Hound he got the story of what had happened on the road north, and he worried more. He had never acknowledged Myrcella as his daughter but she was his and for some odd reason when he saw her he felt some fatherly affection. That was odd. He had seen her many times in King's Landing but had no such feelings in the past. What has that prison cell done to me, Jaime wondered once again.

They tarried at Harrenhal only for two days to finish preparations for the move south. Just as they were about to leave a raven arrived from King's Landing telling them that Renly Baratheon was dead. Then the great host had packed camp and after leaving a small garrison at Harrenhal had moved south. Ten days they had been on the Kingsroad, and it would have been more but the weather held fine for the most part. The land was devastated and only now the farmers were setting to trying to plant for one last harvest before winter.

On the second day there had been a small incident as they meet Beric Dondarrion and several dozen men making their way north. Dondarrion was brought before Jaime's father and they had a few brief words and then Lord Tywin set them on their way again. From Dondarrion they learned that Gregor Clegane and Tyrion had both passed by on their way south.

As he rode south Jaime could think of nothing more than Cersei, of seeing her again and having her once more. Now as they stood in the fields southwest of the King's Landing, Jaime looked towards the walls of the city in the fading daylight and desperately wanted to go there, to find Cersei and kiss her and bed her until she could stand it no more. It had been far too long since they had laid together and his recent imprisonment had made him realize how sweet freedom and love could really be.

"I should go to the city to see Tyrion and tell him we have arrived," Jaime said to his father as Lord Tywin and the other commanders sat inside the pavilion and food and wine was brought.

"They are not blind," said his father. "If your brother has any sense he will come to us before long. I don't expect your sister or the King will join him. They will wait for us to come to them."

Sure enough, not twenty minutes later, Tyrion and a dark haired, dark eyed man in leather armor came riding into the camp. Jaime went to greet them as they climbed off their horses.

"Dear brother," Jaime said with affection. "We meet again. I am sorry I could not have seen you sooner to thank you for securing my release."

"Perhaps Ned Stark is more deserving of your thanks," Tyrion replied. "If he had not convinced his son and the Tullys and the others that continuing our war was folly, then you would still be languishing in a cell."

"I am sure you would have found a clever way to rescue me."

Tyrion raised his eyebrows. "I think not. Even brave Bronn here balked at the thought of such an audacious endeavor."

"Bronn, is it?" Jaime asked looking at the man with his brother. "Oh, yes, you killed the Arryn knight to free Tyrion from the Vale. I do hope you have been well rewarded for your services. Lannisters always pay their debts you know."

"Aye, I've heard it said once or twice," Bronn replied. "So far, can't complain."

"Yet, you still do," said Tyrion to the sellsword. "Bronn, I need have words with my father. Find some way to amuse yourself without killing anyone."

"Maybe I should just stay here with the horses."

"A good idea."

Jaime found their interchange odd. Tyrion had always surrounded himself with smart, clever people like himself, people he could bandy words with over the endless subjects that interested him. Yet, here was this sellsword, a rough and uncouth man, who probably could not even read or write, and here Tyrion was getting along with him as if they had known each other for years. Very odd.

"Tyrion," Lord Tywin said curtly as they entered the open pavilion and sat at the table with the rest, who were now eating and drinking. "What news of the city?"

"News of battle outside the city first, Father," Tyrion told them as he poured a cup of wine. "Stannis Baratheon has defeated the Tyrells."

There was a sudden quiet in the pavilion as everyone stopped eating and stared at Jaime's little brother. He always had a way with words and these simple words he spoke had more impact than anything he could have said in a more clever way.

"When?" Lord Tywin asked immediately.

"Three days past, but the news just came to us this morning," Tyrion told them. "We sent Lord Baelish to negotiate a treaty with the Tyrells. He has now disappeared and the men we sent with him have returned with their tails between their legs. They tell a story of a field of fire, and chaos in the Tyrell camp and of Stannis' hordes thundering down on their enemies. They fled before they saw much else."

"They ran away without trying to rescue Baelish?" Jaime asked.

"Yes," his brother replied. "While Baelish is no friend of mine, Cersei was quite put out and has already hung the commander of Baelish's small force on the city gates."

Lord Tywin grunted. "Baelish is either dead or captured and of no more use to us. It would be better if he was dead so he could not tell Stannis of our defenses or plans."

"What news of Mace Tyrell and the other southern lords?" Kevan asked next.

"We know nothing," Tyrion told them. "They could be dead, or fled south."

The next half an hour they spent discussing their options and listening to Tyrion's reports on the defenses of the city and the activities of Gregor Clegane in the Kingswood.

Finally, after listening most of the time Lord Tywin spoke. "We need more information. Send large mounted patrols deeper south. We need to know where the Baratheon army is and what happened to the Tyrells. I want prisoners taken, alive and talking. We will not move until we know more. That is all. See to your men and our defenses. We will not be taken by surprise like the Tyrells were."

With that the commanders rose and left and Jaime and Tyrion stayed with their father. "I have more news, of the north," Tyrion said right away. "Varys' little birds report that ironmen are supposedly attacking Moat Cailin."

"Ironmen?" Jaime said in surprise. "Typical brigands, making a grab for plunder while the Starks are away from home."

"Perhaps more than mere plunder," Tyrion replied. "If they take Moat Cailin they can block the Stark host from returning home."

"That is the Stark's problem, not ours," Lord Tywin replied curtly. "If Balon Greyjoy wants to get himself involved in these matters then let him. We will deal with him later if the Starks don't first."

"Speaking of Starks," Tyrion started. "Lord Varys has a spy at the Twins. Apparently, the Starks have arrived and Robb Stark has chosen a bride to be. The spy says they are all getting along quite well."

"Indeed?" said Lord Tywin, his face calm. "Then perhaps they can join forces and deal with these ironmen."

"Varys says the Starks have already sent some men north to deal with them and will wait for the wedding to be completed before sending the rest of their army north."

"When Myrcella arrives, don't you mean," said Jaime. "At Harrenhal the Hound told me the Princess would move to the Twins when our army moved south."

"Apparently not," Tyrion replied, with a suspicious look to his father. Something was up between them, Jaime could tell. Tyrion was clever, far too clever for his own good sometimes, and Father was just as clever, if not more.

"Very well, Tyrion," Lord Tywin said in an impatient tone. "You have put your mind to it. Tell me what you think."

"You told me to tell Cersei that Myrcella would never go to Winterfell," Tyrion began. "I have a notion that you made a deal with the Freys to do something to the Starks. Delay them. Deny them the bridge. Maybe even kill them in their beds."

"A wonderful idea," Jaime said at once. "But I do hope they save Robb Stark for me. I would like to clash swords with him and show him once and for all who the better man is."

But Tyrion barely heard what he had said and was looking intently at their father. "You do not deny it?" Tyrion asked.

"Some battles are won with men and horses, others with gold and letters," Lord Tywin told them.

"So," Tyrion said. "What did you promise Walder Frey besides gold in your letter?"

"Nothing was promised, only hinted at," said their father. "But perhaps it was a waste of ink and parchment if he is letting Robb Stark marry one of his brood."

"Walder Frey may be an old, bitter man," Jaime told them. "But he would not have the stomach to attack the Starks in the midst of their army. They outnumber his men three to one. And we are too far away to help."

"No matter what happens at the Twins, Princess Myrcella will stay at Harrenhal," Lord Tywin stated strongly. "We will use this attack by the ironmen as our reason for delay. They cannot guarantee her safety while ironmen run rampant in the north, so she will stay safe at Harrenhal. Now, let us put this aside and discuss other matters."

"As you wish," Tyrion replied, although Jaime could tell he was still not satisfied. "What news of Vargo Hoat?"

"Ser Amory Lorch is hunting for Vargo Hoat's head as we speak," Jaime told him. "He may already have it."

"Good," Tyrion said with some relish. "I only wish I could mount Baelish's head on a spike beside it."

"Perhaps Stannis has already done so," Lord Tywin told him. "I thought to find Lord Baelish in a black cell. What ever possessed your sister to send him as an envoy?"

"She believes him innocent of fermenting war," Tyrion replied in disgust as he sipped some more wine. "Or at least that it is only the Stark's word against his and that we have great need of Littlefinger's skill with coin."

"What did the King have to say about all this?" Jaime wanted to know. His son, he should say, but that would not do in front of his father.

"Joffrey cares not for council meetings or the running of the kingdom," Tyrion told them. "All he wants to do is play with his toys and shout orders at terrified servants. Oh, and have little girls beaten."

Lord Tywin's eyes narrowed. "What's this?"

"Apparently my nephew enjoyed having Sansa Stark beaten. I take it the Hound made no mention of this at Harrenhal. He stopped it and Joffrey dismissed him."

Lord Tywin took a deep breath. "The boy needs to be taken in hand and taught how to be a king, not a tyrant. The realm has had enough of those in the past."

"That was his father's job," said Tyrion, with a quick glance at Jaime that he quickly cast away again. Was he blaming me somehow? Jaime thought. I was never there. Cersei had wanted him to stay as far away from their children as possible.

"And his mother's," Jaime added swiftly so they would not linger too long on what Tyrion had said.

"It is too late for recriminations," Lord Tywin told his sons. "We have a war to win. Tyrion, return to the city. Tell Cersei and the King, if he will listen, that Jaime and I will arrive tomorrow before noon. I don't want any grand spectacle. We are still at war and no battles have been won yet. We will meet them in the small council room. After the meeting, tell Varys I want all his reports, to come to me and me alone first."

"As you command, Father," said Tyrion as he stood and drained his cup of wine. "On the morrow."

Jaime stood and went with his brother to their horses where the man Bronn was still waiting. "So what's the plan?" Bronn asked right away.

"There is no plan," Tyrion told him. "No one knows where Stannis is."

"Once we find him we will make him wish he never left Dragonstone," Jaime replied with a grin.

But his brother was not grinning. "Jaime, I did not say this in front of Father for he would only scoff at me," Tyrion said quietly. "But the men who returned from the Tyrell camp told us a very strange tale. They claim a wave of fire filled the air and engulfed the Tyrells before Stannis attacked. Men burst into flames, horses as well, and tents and supply wagons were engulfed."

"Fire is a common weapon in war, little brother."

"There were no fire arrows, no barrels of oil, nothing flammable. Only a grey mist that came down on them and burst in their midst."

Jaime looked at Tyrion in puzzlement. "What are you saying?"

"Stannis is reported to have a priestess of Asshai in his camp."

"Sorcery?" Jaime said in a scoffing tone. "You must be joking."

"That's what I said," Bronn told him. "Men see all kinds of funny things in battle and later get it all twisted around. And that lot shit themselves and ran before they saw much anyway."

"See what I must deal with?" Tyrion said in an exasperated tone as he looked at Bronn and shook his head. "Even my own men don't believe me. And now you too, big brother."

Jaime could see he was hurt and was covering it up with his way with words as usual. "If it was true, what could we do about it?"

"Fight fire with fire," Tyrion told him in an excited manner. "Cersei has done one good thing. She has set old Mad King Aerys' pyromancers to work making wildfire."

"Wildfire?" Jaime asked in surprise. "Does it still exist?"

"I assure you it does," Tyrion told him.

"Pig shit, I say it is" Bronn spat. "If it does work, it will kill just as many of our men as Stannis'."

"True enough," Tyrion agreed. "It is not something to treat lightly. One dropped pot full could set fire to an entire city block in seconds. We have begun training the men in its use, just with practice pots filled with paint."

"Father won't allow it in the army," Jaime told him. "Too many chances of something going amiss."

"Like I said," Bronn told them. Jaime didn't like his brash manner but said nothing.

"Yes," Tyrion said impatiently. "Right now we will use it to defend the city from a landing by sea. Perhaps we might also set the Blackwater on fire if Stannis tries to cross."

"You had better tell Father, and soon, about these plans," Jaime advised. "You know how he hates surprises."

"Indeed," Tyrion replied. Then he looked at Jaime in a curious manner. "Are you coming to the city tonight?"

Jaime smiled and he knew what Tyrion was thinking. "I believe I shall. My best armor and swords are still here. I should hate to go into battle with these castoffs I found in Harrenhal."

"Then come," Tyrion said. "Before Father calls on you to dig a latrine pit or some other foolish thing."

Tyrion mounted his horse and Bronn did the same. Jaime yelled for a page to bring him a horse, any damn horse as long as it was saddled. His own warhorse had also been lost in the Whispering Wood and was most likely a resting place to some northerner soldier's fat arse by now.

Soon all three were heading into the city, entering by the King's Gate. There on the battlements in the light of lanterns hung on the walls Jaime saw the body of the commander who had failed to rescue Baelish from the Tyrell camp.

"Our sister does like to make a point," Tyrion said as he saw Jaime looking up at the dead man.

But Jaime wasn't thinking of the dead man, only the sister. "Where is she?"

"In her quarters, I should imagine," Tyrion told him. "The same place as before. As of yet Joffrey has not asserted his royal prerogative to kick his mother out of the royal apartments."

Jaime wrinkled his nose as they passed under the gates. He always hated the smell of the city. Bad smalls he had gotten used to the last month, being a prisoner and all, but the stench of tens of thousands of people all crammed together inside the walls was truly vile. They entered the city and picked up an escort of twenty gold cloaks on foot.

"A precaution," Tyrion told him. "The people are hungry and restless."

"How bad is the food situation?" Jaime asked. Tyrion had mentioned this at the meeting but their father had brushed it aside, saying that things would not get better until the war was won and they had no food to spare for the city.

"They haven't started eating each other…yet," said Bronn.

"Some food still comes in from Rosby," Tyrion added. "Mostly for the garrison and Red Keep. Fish is plentiful in the river and bay, but grain is slowly being used up and fresh vegetables and fruit have all but disappeared. Our stores for winter won't last if this goes on much longer."

They made their way along River Row, the street that ran along the wall closest to the Blackwater, then passed through the large square by the Mud Gate and continued up Aegon's Hill to the Red Keep. The streets were busy and many people were about but no one bothered them. In the dimly lit streets Jaime could see sullen stares and desperate eyes that looked at them in envy and hatred. You would think the arrival of the army would bring some joy to them, Jaime thought, but it appeared not.

After saying goodnight to his brother and his pet sellsword, Jaime found his way to Cersei's apartments. Strangely, there were no guards there, but he brushed that aside for the moment in his excitement to see her. As he was about to open the door he realized he hadn't bathed since Harrenhal and the dust and smell of the road was thick on him. Then he suddenly didn't care and put his hand on the door handle and pushed. It was locked.

"Who is it?" demanded a male voice. Was that…Lancel?

"Your cousin, and you had best open this door before I break it down," Jaime shouted to him. Jaime suddenly had a rash thought enter his head. No, that couldn't be. But why else would he be here?

There was a sudden fumbling at the door lock and then Lancel opened it wide. Well, he was dressed at least. "Ser Jaime," he said in surprise. "How good to see you safe and sound."

"Safe, but not quite sound, not yet at least," Jaime said as he stepped past him. And there she was, reclining on a divan, her legs pulled up under her and her skirts wrapped around them, a golden goblet in her hand, looking as ravishing as ever. Her eyes were on fire as she looked at him and she sat up, and then Jaime quickly turned to Lancel. "I need have words with my sister, dear cousin. Alone."

"Of…of course," said Lancel. He bowed towards Cersei. "Your Grace." And then he left, closing the door, which Jaime locked right away.

She was on her feet in an instant and then in his arms kissing him and hugging him. "Oh Jaime, thank the gods you are back," she said, tears in her eyes. "Come, get out of this armor."

In minutes he was naked and so was she and they lay in the bed where he had fucked her so many times before while her husband was still alive. Once more they let their forbidden passion consume them and this time it felt so much sweeter since it been so long since he had made love to her. As they lay shuddering in each others arms afterward, she unburdened herself of all her cares. For a long time she spoke on all that had happened since he had left, on Robert's death and Joffrey's shaky reign and Ned Stark's treachery and all that had come from the war.

He asked only a few questions and made a few comments. Not once did she ask anything about what had happened to him. Finally, she seemed to be finished. Jaime sat up in the bed, stood, found the wine and brought them two cups. After he sipped, he sat next to her on the bed again. "I should have been the one to kill Robert."

"He is dead, what does it matter how he died," Cersei told him. "Oh, the boar tasted so delicious. It tasted like victory."

"We have had few of those of late," Jaime said ruefully. "Prison does not suit me, dear sister."

She reached out and touched his shoulder in a tender way. "How bad was it?"

"Bad, but it could have been worse. At least it was no sky cell. Did Tyrion tell you what happened to him in the Vale?"

She pulled away her hand quickly. "I have heard. He could have jumped for all I care."

She had never loved Tyrion. He knew why. She blamed him for their mother's death. Jaime blamed the gods and put aside his grief. Cersei had never let it go. Jaime often wondered if their forbidden love could have gone on so long if their mother was still alive. She had caught them once, just kissing, when they were more than just children anymore, and she had been aghast. Surely she would have put an end to it by now if she still lived. Jaime tried to remember what she looked like and it was hard to recall.

"Tyrion tells me you have wildfire," Jaime said, changing the subject and not wanting to argue with her over their differing views on their little brother.

"He wants total control of it all," Cersei said with an edge of anger. "It was my idea. I started the pyromancers on it."

"Let him take charge," Jaime advised. "If it works, he may well destroy Stannis' ships. He will get some small glory but father will get the most when he destroys Stannis' army. And if the wildfire fails, then all the blame will fall on Tyrion."

"Very well," she said after a moment of thought. "Will father defeat Stannis?"

"Of course," Jaime said as if it was a foregone conclusion. "Father has never been beaten in the field."

"No, he just let a fifteen year old boy outwit him and capture you," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "He had to go on bended knee to the Starks to free you and now they have my daughter!"

"Our daughter," Jaime said quietly.

She was silent for a moment. "Yes…our daughter."

"She will not leave Harrenhal, Father promised."

"Tyrion said as much," Cersei told him. "Did Father mention Stannis' accusations… about us?"

"No, it did not come up. Tyrion and I had a long chat on it, however."

"As did he and I," she said and then laughed, a short, bitter laugh. "Claims he has known for years, the clever little imp."

"A clever little man, our brother is. I do not doubt he knew. And he says Ned Stark told him you confessed to it. Whatever possessed you?"

She snorted. "Madness, anger, foolishness…it matters not. Now Ned Stark will be soon be back in his barren frozen home he loves so much and then it's the Wall for him."

"Father is not done with the Starks yet. You know how he hates letting anyone get the best of him."

"Then we should have taken his head off when we had him captive," Cersei exclaimed.

"Then I would still be in a Riverrun cell and Stannis would be pounding on your gates," Jaime reminded her. "No, what was done was done right. There is plenty of time to deal with Ned Stark in the future."

Cersei stood and wrapped herself in a long silken night gown. She stood by an open window and Jaime put down his wine cup and pulled on his breeches and walked to her. He stood behind her and wrapped his naked arms around her, cupping her breasts through the flimsy silken material of the gown.

"You talk of the future," she whispered as he nuzzled her neck. "What future is there for us? Are we going to have to hide our love forever?"

"We have this long."

"Not any more," she said ruefully. "The whole realm knows the truth and is laughing at us behind our backs. Or calling us evil and damning us to hell. Already they call Joffrey a bastard and claim he has no right to the throne."

"I will kill Stannis Baratheon and any other pretenders," Jaime told her strongly. "Joffrey will be King and then his son and any sons that follow. Our seed will rule the Seven Kingdoms from now until the end of time."

She laughed and turned to him and he could see she did not believe it. "The Targaryens thought the same thing. Look what happened to them. Will someone shove a sword in Joffrey's back someday as well?"

This they had rarely talked about. Kingslayer he was to the realm, yet she knew why he had done it. She above all knew better than to throw this in his face. "The Mad King deserved what I gave him. Joffrey will…"

But she interrupted him. "Joffrey is not…well."

That puzzled him. "You mean he is ill?"

"No," she said and stalked off to the divan and sat again and he followed her and sat opposite in a chair. "He…he enjoys being cruel."

"You mean this business with Sansa Stark? It is nothing."

"How…Tyrion," she said, getting mad. "Did he tell Father?"

"He told us both. Father seems to think Joffrey needs better parenting to curb him of such urges to have young girls beaten."

"It's not only that…he had a baby girl killed." When she said it, it was as if she still did not believe it to be true.

Now that did surprise Jaime. "Explain."

"She was one of Robert's bastards."

"Then he had good reasons. A King on his throne is vulnerable as long as there are possible pretenders. Father did the same thing with Rhaegar's children."

"But not his brother or sister."

"Viserys is dead, Father says. And his sister's husband has died and she is lost in the Dothraki Sea. We have no more worries about the Targaryens."

"Perhaps," Cersei said, but she still seemed worried.

"I am here now. All will be better."

"Will it?"

"We will defeat Stannis."

"And then?"

He hadn't thought much on what would happen then. "Then…then I resume my duties as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard."

"While I remain a widow," she said bitterly. "Sneaking around trying to find time to fuck you. Is that what the rest of my life will be about?"

"Then marry me," he said and the shocked look on her face told him the answer before she said it.

"Are you mad?"

"The Targaryens married brother and sister. Why can't we?"

"We are not Targaryens, for one. And it would kill father. And it would give proof to the realm that Joffrey is a bastard and has no claim to the throne."

"Then I will kill all who try to usurp him."

She shook her head. "You can't kill everyone. You always thought with your sword first, brother. For once think with your head. All this folly started when you pushed the Stark boy out that tower window."

"That was rash," he admitted. "Tyrion suffered a great deal because of that."

"He was stupid enough to let himself get taken by that woman," she said in disdain. "He blames Baelish."

"So does Ned Stark and Father seems convinced of it."

"It matters not now. Baelish is dead or a prisoner."

"What terms were you offering the Tyrells?"

"Joffrey's hand for Margaery Tyrell for one."

"A wise move," he said. "Shame it all went up in smoke. You know, Tyrion thinks some kind of sorcery may have been at work in the attack."

She laughed. "Yes, and I am sure he thinks grumkins and giants live beyond the Wall as well and dragons still fly somewhere. Our little brother has spent too much time with his ugly little nose in a book all his life."

Jaime wondered. "This business with Renly Baratheon's assassin. What was her name?"

"Brienne of Tarth."

"I have heard she was quite the she beast. Killed three of Renly's guards and wounded Ser Loras. She died claiming to be innocent."

"Of course she did," Cersei snorted. "Oh, come now. You aren't starting to believe in sorcery as well?"

"No," he quickly said. "But I wonder…I wonder."

"You had best wonder back in your camp," Cersei said, standing. She was right, it was time to leave. But he had to have her one more time and she did not resist at all.

Afterward he was sated, for the time being. He finished dressing and donned his armor and belted his sword. As she kissed him goodbye at the door he remembered he had wanted to ask her something, something he had forgotten about in their first rush of passion.

"What was Lancel doing here?"

She was taken aback, for just a second. "He was keeping me company. I oft get lonely. I have no friends here, Jaime. They all fear me or despise me. Or both."

He nodded and it sounded like she was truly lonely. "You should have guards on your door."

"Yes, you are right. Please take care of it." She kissed him once more and he left. At the bottom of the stairs he found the guard room and found two Lannister men sitting and eating some bread with jam. When one of them saw him, he jumped to his feet right away and the other soon followed.

"Ser Jaime," said the first, as they both dipped their heads in respect. "We have heard you have returned. It is good to have strong men in charge again, my lord."

He ignored the compliment. "Why aren't you two guarding the Queen's chambers?" he asked in a harsh tone.

"She told us to leave," said the second one in a rush.

"When?"

"About two hours ago, my lord," said the first guard.

That puzzled him. "Does she do this often?"

"A few times, my lord," said the other one.

"Get up there and don't leave until relieved," Jaime ordered and they scurried out of the room and back up the stairs. Jaime entered the guard room and found a jug of warm ale on a counter and took a long drink. It tasted like piss but it refreshed him a bit.

Cersei was sending her guards away. Lancel was visiting her. Could…no, no, he would not believe it, not without proof. And if he found that proof, then he would kill Lancel. As for his sister…he knew not what to do.

The next morning after an early breakfast Jaime and his father rode into the city surrounded by fifty guards on horseback. It was barely past sunrise and the streets were mostly empty, which is exactly why Tywin Lannister had chosen so early to arrive. Jaime had expected it, even after his father had told Tyrion they would be there before noon. Of course that did not mean their arrival went unnoticed. Lord Varys and Tyrion were inside the main gate of the Red Keep to welcome them.

"Lord Varys," Lord Tywin said as he dismounted from his horse. "I see even an early riser like myself cannot slip in unnoticed past your eyes. I suppose I should start searching for one of your spies in my camp."

"I am an early riser myself, my lord," Varys said in his oily way. "A set of eyes on the battlements told me of your coming, so fear not, I have no little birds in your army."

"So you say," Lord Tywin said curtly and then he looked at Tyrion. "Trouble sleeping?"

Tyrion did indeed look like he wished he was back in bed. He had a haggard look and his eyes were bloodshot. "You said you would be here before noon."

"This is before noon," Lord Tywin replied. "Come, I wish to see your sister before we see the King. Lord Varys, walk with me and tell me of any news."

"Yes, my lord," Varys replied.

"I should find my good armor and sword," Jaime told them. "And I need a wash."

"Fine," said Lord Tywin. "Join us in the small council chamber in an hour."

Jaime entered the rooms of the Kingsguard in a tower and found his sleeping cell. His white enamel armor was hanging on a wall nearby as was his sword covered in gold gilt. After he had a quick wash in a basin of cold water, he kicked a sleeping squire awake to help him don his armor. After that he left the tower. As he was walking down the stairs he met one of his brother Kingsguard, Ser Meryn Trant, on the second floor landing.

"Lord Commander," Ser Meryn said with a bow of his head. "It is good to have you back."

"Yes," Jaime said to him, staring at him intently. "Who guards the King?"

"Ser Boros and Ser Preston. I have been on duty all night, my lord, and am now retiring for some rest."

"Speaking of duty, Ser Meryn, I have it on good authority that the King has you beating little girls these days."

Ser Meryn's face flushed. "I was only following the King's orders."

Jaime stepped close to him and gave him a cold stare. "The King is thirteen years old. The next time he gives you an order like that you come to me or the Queen first."

"But…he has already seen a guard and a servant put to death for not obeying him," Ser Meryn protested. "And he had Ser Dontos drown in a barrel of wine for embarrassing him at his name day tournament."

Gods, what was that idiot boy up to? "Do as I command," Jaime told him bluntly. "I shall deal with the King if there are any more questionable commands from him."

"As you say, my lord."

Jaime left him and made his way to the small council room. They were all there, most looking like they had just woken up as well as Tyrion. Pycelle was still nodding off. Cersei looked like she hadn't slept and her face was curdled in a scowl that would be permanent if she held it much longer. She sipped a cup of tea and had a plate of cheese and bread and fruit before her. Tyrion was drinking wine already and also had some food before him. Janos Slynt was eating some bacon and bread. Only his father and Varys ate nothing, both having broken their fast already. A servant brought in a dish of boiled eggs and cold meat and a flagon of ale and then Cersei dismissed her. Jaime was about to stand behind his father's chair and then remembered as the new Lord Commander of the Kingsguard he was now a member of the council. He took a seat to the left of his father and next to Pycelle.

While Pycelle and Slynt greeted him and he made polite hellos, Cersei did not even look at him as she addressed their father. "This could have waited, Father," she said in an angry manner.

"No, it could not," Lord Tywin told her. "Your city may soon be under direct siege by land or sea and it is time we settled our plans. Where is my grandson?"

"I am here," said Joffrey as he strode into the room followed by Ser Boros and Ser Preston. He was dressed well and had his crown on and a sword at his belt and did not look tired at all.

They all stood and bowed to him. "Your Grace," said Lord Tywin. "It is good to see you again."

"As you grandfather,"replied Joffrey as he sat at the position of honor and everyone sat as well. "Although I expected you much sooner."

"He is here now and so is his army," said Cersei with a smile to her son. Oh, how quick she changes her demeanor, Jaime thought.

"And my uncle is here as well," Joffrey said with a look to Jaime.

"Your Grace," Jaime said to him with a bow of the head.

Joffrey stared at him. "Getting captured was foolish."

Jaime felt his anger rise as the little pup stared at him in his insolent way. Robert should have beaten you every day until that smirk was gone forever, Jaime thought. But he couldn't say that.

"Yes, Your Grace. I do apologize for falling into the Stark trap."

"That is irrelevant now," Lord Tywin said with a dismissive tone. "The Starks have left the field, peace has been made with Riverrun, and our enemy is to the south. Stannis' army has been sighted."

Of them all only Jaime was not surprised. Varys also seemed to be unmoved by this news, but whether he was surprised or not Jaime did not know since his face was very inscrutable. Patrols had come in before dawn with two prisoners, who told them Stannis was a few miles south of the Blackwater, just to the west of the Kingswood, in camp and in strong defensive positions.

"Where?" Tyrion asked immediately.

"South of the Blackwater," Lord Tywin told them. "Also, Ser Gregor's men were beaten back to the river last night and are now being ferried across."

"Were there losses?" Pycelle asked.

"He lost about half of his men," Lord Tywin reported. "Now Baratheon pickets and patrols are on the far bank, but the bulk of the army is a few miles south. I believe he wants to draw us across the river to…"

"Attack!" Joffrey said suddenly and loudly. "Cross the river and attack him at once! I command it!"

"There will be no attack," Lord Tywin said calmly. "We would be between his army and the river. He wants us to cross, to hem us in between the woods to the east and the river behind us. There is no room for maneuver. No, we will wait for him to make a move."

"Wise council," said Pycelle and Slynt agreed immediately. Joffrey seemed about to retort but kept silent, a sullen look on his face.

Tyrion, however, had a different view. "How long can we wait?" he asked. "Stannis has all the food and fodder of the Storm Lands and the Reach behind him. We have nothing but Rosby and the burnt out Riverlands."

"The army is sufficiently supplied for a few weeks at least," Lord Tywin told them. "And the Goldenroad is open and more men and supplies will reach us from the west. Lord Varys, give them the report."

Varys nodded slightly and spoke. "A large host of Lannister men and supplies left Casterly Rock many days ago and is now on the Goldenroad heading east. They should arrive in a week."

"Excellent," said Joffrey in enthusiasm. "Then we attack."

Lord Tywin looked at the King. "If the chance presents itself, Your Grace, I will attack. But not before. What worries me most is our lack of defenses on the seaward side. If Lord Varys' reports are true then Stannis' fleet will outnumber us three to one. If Stannis coordinates his attacks, he could hit us from two sides at once."

"We have the wildfire for that," Tyrion said.

"Yes, wildfire," said Lord Tywin. Had Tyrion told him already? Jaime wondered. Perhaps so. "Wildfire is a dangerous substance, for attacker and defender," Lord Tywin continued. "We will use it only on the seaward side. I don't want it near my army or my camp or the Kingswood."

"It shall be done," Tyrion replied.

"Now for order of command," Lord Tywin said next. "Tyrion will remain acting Hand of the King while I am in the field. Lord Slynt will remain in charge of the city defenses but will follow all orders from either myself or the Hand. Ser Jaime will remain with the army and will take up his duties as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard when the war is won. With Baelish lost we need a new master of coin." He looked to Cersei as he said this.

"I have a list of possible candidates, all men of money who have experience with finance," she told them.

"Good, see that is done swiftly," said Lord Tywin. "Then that is all. Unless there is something I have overlooked."

Joffrey looked a bit put out. "And what shall I do?"

"Rule, Your Grace," said Lord Tywin, as if it was so obvious. "Allow me to win this war for you and no one will ever challenge you again."

Joffrey looked like he wanted to protest again but didn't. "Very well, Lord Tywin. The command is yours. May the gods grant you victory."

"Thank you, Your Grace," Lord Tywin replied. "By your leave I will rejoin my army."

"Yes, of course," Joffrey replied. Lord Tywin stood and so did the others and all started to leave after bowing to Joffrey, who remained seated. "Ser Jaime," he said suddenly. "I would speak with you."

Jaime stopped and looked to his father. "Join us when you are free," Lord Tywin said and then he left. Tyrion hesitated a moment, gave a short worried look to Jaime and then left as well.

Cersei looked at her son. "Perhaps I should stay as well."

"No, mother, I think not," Joffrey replied, an edge of anger in his tone. What was this now? Perhaps he was going to ask me about his parentage. What else did they have to talk about, this boy who was his son, a son he neither knew nor cared very much for.

"Very well," Cersei said and with a worried look to Jaime she departed and then Joffrey told his two Kingsguards to wait outside.

As soon as they were gone the King looked at Jaime steadily and then asked what Jaime guessed he would ask. "Are you my father?"

"Robert Baratheon was your father," Jaime said right away.

"My uncle Stannis says not," Joffrey replied. "He says you are."

"A lie told to strengthen his claim to the throne."

"Ned Stark believed it to be true," Joffrey retorted. "They found this bastard my grandfather let go with the Starks. I ordered him killed and they let him go! A blacksmith's boy, who looked just like my father. I asked Varys about it and he says they believed it was true because all the men in the Baratheon family for hundreds of years had black hair and blue eyes. Until me, and Tommen, that is. And Myrcella."

"And all Lannisters have always been blond haired and green eyed, Your Grace," Jaime replied calmly. "Your mother is a Lannister and you all follow her, not your father. It has been known to happen."

"Maybe," Joffrey said. Then his eyes narrowed. "I heard you visited mother last night."

"She is my sister after all," he replied. "We have not seen each other in a few months." Now who told him that? Lancel or one of the guards? Perhaps Varys, or one of his spies at least.

"Very well," Joffrey said in a bored tone. "You are dismissed."

Jaime bowed once and then turned and left, seething inside. He obeyed King's in the past, he had…well, not entirely. He had killed the first king he had served and had fucked the wife of the second one. Of course, he had fucked her first, years before she was Robert Baratheon's wife. And now the new King, his son, was acting like, like, well, acting like a King should. Still, it made Jaime mad to be questioned so, especially when all the King suspected was true. And if he suspected it, then the rest of the realm no doubt believed it wholeheartedly by now.

When he returned to the camp and found his father in the pavilion with his uncle Kevan there was surprising news. "Stannis Baratheon wants a parley," his uncle Kevan told him.

"Good," Jaime said. "Then we shall kill him and be done with it." That's when Jaime noticed they were not alone. Sitting there with them was a young woman, of some beauty, with curly brown locks. Jaime looked at her curiously, trying to remember who she was, but could not place her.

"Then they will kill my brother," the young girl replied and now Jaime knew who she was.

"Lady Tyrell," he said with a slight bow. "Forgive me for not recognizing you at first. I have been gone away far too long. How did you come to be Stannis Baratheon's messenger?"

"My brother and I are his prisoners," she said, her voice catching a bit as she explained.

Jaime sat while his father began to explain further. "Lady Tyrell came to the first bridge upriver this morning at dawn and was seized by one of our patrols and brought to here immediately once they knew who she was. Stannis has Ser Loras and Littlefinger as well."

"Unharmed?" Jaime asked Margaery.

"Lord Baelish suffered a minor head wound in the attack and seems to be recovering. My brother was wounded when my husband was murdered and his leg is slow to heal."

"And how many of Stannis' men did he kill before being captured?" Jaime asked with a smirk. He and Loras Tyrell had clashed a few times in the tournaments and Jaime had usually come out the loser in those contests.

"None," she replied. "He was taken in his bed."

"A story for the ages," Jaime quipped and his father gave him a sharp look.

"Put aside your petty rivalries with the Tyrell boy for a moment, if you will."

"Of course, Father. What is our plan of action?"

"I will treat with Stannis," Kevan said at once.

"He will take that as an insult," said Lord Tywin. "It must be me or he will not come."

"Beware my lords," Margaery said in all earnestness. "There is something foul in the way our camp was attacked. I was with Lord Baelish when it happened. A grey mist rolled in on us and then was set aflame. The shock and fear it produced scattered my father's army and took away many men's bravery."

"We have heard a similar story," Lord Tywin said in a serious tone. "What do you know of how your husband died?"

"They say it was the woman Brienne," Margaery told them. "But Loras claims she swore she saw a shadow in the tent and that Renly's throat was cut open through his steel armor like it was nothing at all."

"A shadow? But it can't be true," Kevan said with a shake of his head.

"I did not believe it either," Margaery replied quietly. "Yet now I am beginning to believe after the attack on our army."

"We have heard a red priestess of the Lord of Light rides with Stannis," Lord Tywin asked. "What news of her?"

"She is there, though I have not spoken to her. Stannis hardly moves without her beside him. I should expect she will be at any parley."

"Then we shall kill them both," said Jaime at once.

"I fear she may already know your plans," Margaery told them. "The men in his army whisper strange stories, that she sees things in her fires, things that later come true."

Jaime snorted. "If she sees me shoving three feet of steel in Stannis' chest, she had best advise him not to come to any parleys."

"I would think Stannis would not be taken by surprise at any parley," Lord Tywin said. Then he seemed to decide. "We shall go, to see what he has to say. Where?" The last was for Margaery.

"The same bridge I crossed. Noon if its possible."

"Fine," Lord Tywin said. "I take it you must return with our answer."

"Yes," she replied.

"We will see him there at noon," Lord Tywin said. "Jaime, see that she has some refreshments and then take an escort with her to the bridge. Check out the terrain and make sure there are no traps being planned. I will follow shortly."

"Come my lady," Jaime said as they both rose from the table and then walked outside. Jaime took her to a bench and told a squire to bring food and drink. As they waited Jaime asked her about her father's army.

"Some got away," she told him. "My father and Lord Tarly included. I don't know how many. Stannis forced me to write a letter to Highgarden to say Loras and I are hostages to their continued neutrality."

"I am sorry for your circumstances, my lady," Jaime told her with some sympathy. "I too had recent experience of such imprisonment. It is no joy."

"No, indeed not," she answered.

"What is Lord Baelish been telling Stannis?"

"I know not," she answered. "But Loras asked Lord Baelish if he was Stannis' man now and Baelish did not deny it. This morning when I left camp he seemed quite vexed that Stannis entrusted me with this mission. He wanted to come himself."

Jaime snorted. "Stannis was smart. He knew Baelish would never return if he sent him. But you would. Your brother is still his hostage, so you would return. If Baelish is helping Stannis then he better pray that Stannis wins because we will make him short a head if we do."

After that, food and drink came and they both ate quickly and were soon on horse, with a strong escort of cavalry heading up river. It took more than thirty minutes of hard riding to reach the first bridge. Already Lannister men were there, with a strong obstacle of fallen trees and sharpened stakes on the north bank of the river. Here along both sides the banks were relatively clear of trees and underbrush and hiding an ambush force would be difficult.

The bridge was an old one, made of wood, wide enough for two wagons to pass. As Jaime peer to the south he saw in the distance near a small stand of trees some men encamped by the roadside leading to the bridge. They had a yellow banner with a fiery red heart in its midst. One of the officers in charge of the bridge detail handed Jaime a Myrish spy glass and Jaime took it and soon counted over a hundred men there and just as many horses. Then he saw him, Stannis Baratheon, and with him was a woman dressed in red.

"Stannis is there," Jaime said to the officer in charge.

"Yes, my lord," the officer replied. "He came about thirty minutes ago."

Jaime looked around him at the force he had. He had brought about fifty cavalry and there were also at least two or three hundred men on foot. A swift charge across the bridge and it could all be over in minutes. But then he looked to the trees again by Stannis' camp and behind the small camp were some hills and anything could be over them. No, I was caught once before for being so rash, Jaime thought. I will not be caught again. Knowing Stannis he would kill me rather than trade me to my father.

As Jaime brooded on this he looked at the bridge. "Have you prepared the bridge for destruction?"

"I have received no such orders, my lord."

"You have now. After we are done with the parley, get some pitch and soak the bridge supports and prepare fire arrows. If Stannis tries to cross in force you set the damn thing on fire."

"Yes, my lord. I will see to the preparations." Then the man left them.

"I should go to Stannis," Margaery said.

"Very well," Jaime replied.

She hesitated. "Lord Baelish had brought an offer of marriage for me to the King."

"I have heard."

"If your army prevails and I survive, I should very much like to marry the King."

Jaime smiled. "I shall bring it up with the Queen and King at the first opportunity."

"Thank you, Ser Jaime," she said with a slight smile. "I must be off."

"Take care, Lady Tyrell," he said.

"And you too, ser," she replied and then Jaime ordered the barriers removed and she soon crossed the bridge and rode down to Stannis' small camp. Several men on horse back came out to meet her and took her there. Twenty minutes later Jaime's father and a further hundred cavalry arrived. Away from the bridge Jaime could also see a long line of archers and crossbow men marching swiftly and filtering into some small stands of woods, keeping well away from the river.

"Expecting trouble?" he asked his father as he rode up beside Jaime by the north end of the bridge. Jaime truly hoped so for he relished a fight after so much inaction for so long.

"I always expect trouble," his father replied. "You should take a lesson from me."

There it was, a rebuke he had been expecting since his release. His father had not said much on that after they had left the Red Fork, but Jaime knew he was angry that Jaime had been captured.

"What is the situation?" his father asked right away.

"The Tyrell girl has returned," Jaime told him. "Stannis and his red woman are there."

He handed his father the spy glass and Lord Tywin looked for a long time. "He could have men in those trees and just over that hill."

"Yes," Jaime said. "I was thinking of a quick rush on him but let reason prevail this time."

"Wise of you," his father said and Jaime knew not if it was a compliment or another stab at his earlier failure. Lord Tywin looked up at the sky. "Almost midday."

Then Jaime spotted movement in the far camp. "Here they come."

Three people moved out from the camp. Stannis Baratheon was clear to see as was the red woman and behind them was a large man in armor with Stannis' banner.

"When we meet them let me do the talking," Jaime's father told him. "Under no circumstances will you allow Stannis is to provoke you into drawing your steel."

"Yes, Father," Jaime said and for some reason he felt like a child again. Maybe Cersei was right. Maybe he was too rash at times.

Lord Tywin turned to his officers and told them to see the men were well back from the bridge, but prepared to come to their aid in a moment's notice. Then he and Jaime and a knight carrying their banner rode their horses out beyond the barriers and to the north end of the bridge. In a few minutes Stannis and the others arrived at the south end. Slowly the two parties rode to the middle of the bridge.

"Lord Tywin," Stannis said curtly.

"Lord Stannis," Jaime's father replied.

"Stannis Baratheon is a King," the red woman said. "He should be addressed as Your Grace." Jaime looked at her closely. She was pale and had red hair and was beautiful in some strange way.

"He is no King in my eyes," said Lord Tywin.

"Neither is your grandson," Stannis shot back.

Lord Tywin ignored the jib and looked to the red woman. "And who might you be?"

"This is Lady Melisandre of Asshai," Stannis told them. "A priestess of R'hllor in service to my lady wife."

"I have heard she is more in service to you, Lord Stannis," Lord Tywin replied.

"I serve R'hllor, the Lord of Light," said the woman. "King Stannis is his instrument in this world."

"I came here to parley, not speak on religion," said Lord Tywin impatiently. "Lord Stannis, you wanted this parley. I will hear what you have to say."

"I will give you one chance to make peace with me, Lord Tywin," Stannis began. "Leave the field, return to Casterly Rock, and all shall be pardoned. You will retain your position as Warden of the West and Lord of Casterly Rock."

Lord Tywin snorted. "I think you over estimate your forces and your chances. Besides, you are a traitor and rebel and should be the one begging for a pardon."

"The boy who sits on the Iron Throne is no king," Stannis retorted. "My brother had no true born sons, only bastards. Look to your family's own sins, Lord Tywin. Ask your own son here who is the true father of Joffrey and the others."

Jaime felt his anger rise and could not help but speak. "Falsehoods to better your claim to the throne."

"Falsehoods?" Stannis said with a snort. "Jon Arryn believed it and now he is dead. Ned Stark believed it and he has been branded a traitor and forced to take the black. The Iron Throne is mine by right of inheritance. No bastards may inherit."

"I see we have wasted our time," said Lord Tywin to Stannis and Jaime could sense the anger in him. "You came here to make accusations, not listen to reason."

"Then what would you have us do?" Stannis asked.

"Retire from the field," Lord Tywin said. "Return to Dragonstone."

"To await your judgment?" Stannis asked with bitterness in his voice. "I know how you Lannisters treat your enemies. I have come too far and it is too late for me to stop now or it would have all been for nothing. No, Lord Tywin, I shall not retire. And apparently neither shall you."

"So be it," Lord Tywin replied. "We will meet on the field of battle."

"No," said the red woman suddenly. "I have seen it in my flames, Lord Tywin. You shall not meet King Stannis in battle." She looked past him at Jaime. "But your sons will. And they will lose."

Jaime felt his anger bubble up and his hand went to his sword but he did not draw it. "Why don't we settle this right here?" Jaime told Stannis. "Single combat, just the two of us."

Stannis grunted. "I think we know who would win, Kingslayer. Then your infamy would be doubled. Best scurry back to your son to make sure he is safe in his castle. Soon my siege engines will pound its walls to dust."

"We are done with this folly," Lord Tywin said, his anger now obvious. Then he turned his horse about, and for one brief moment Jaime wanted to draw his sword and cut both of their heads off but the look in his father's eyes told him to not do any such thing and soon they were off the bridge and back with their own men and Stannis and his priestess were gone as well.

"A waste of time," Lord Tywin said as they rode back down the river towards the main camp.

"You should have let me kill them both," Jaime replied, his anger still burning.

"Perhaps," his father told him. "But it would not have been honorable."

Jaime laughed. "What does it matter? The realm all believes I have no honor."

"Maybe so," Lord Tywin said. "But I still have some honor."

That stung worse than anything else his father had said to him in a long time. Jaime said nothing and brooded as they rode back to camp. Finally, his father spoke again.

"What did the Tyrell girl tell you of their camp?"

"Nothing," he replied. "She only spoke on how Baelish told her Joffrey wanted to marry her and on how he has now thrown his lot in with Stannis."

"Baelish will get his reward for all his misdeeds," Lord Tywin said grimly. "I care not if he can make money appear from thin air. It is time for him to go."

"Tyrion will be pleased."

A short time later they returned to camp. The rest of the day Jaime spent in practice with some other knights, using tourney swords, working up a sweat and getting the edge back to his fighting skills. He vented his anger at Stannis and his father on these poor knights and more than few had bruises and scrapes to show for his anger at others.

As night fell he supped with his father and the other commanders in the main pavilion. All talk was about Stannis and their meeting and what moves to make the next day and where their reinforcements were now. As the supper ended and the commanders left, Jaime was left alone with his father.

"Jaime," his father said suddenly. "I want the truth about something."

"Yes?" Jaime asked and his throat felt tight. Was he going to ask what Joffrey had asked him?

"I want to know if…" But then they were interrupted as a soldier came to the pavilion.

"My lords, we spotted a boat crossing the river."

Jaime stood quickly. "Perhaps some lost fisherman. I will see to it."

"Very well," Lord Tywin said.

Jaime left and swiftly walked with the soldier to the river bank. There were several men with bows and arrows peering into the dark.

"What is it?" Jaime asked them. It was dark and the moonlight was struggling to pass though some clouds.

"There, a boat, my lord," said one sharp-eyed soldier. Jaime peered and could just make it out, almost on the far shore, rowing away from them, being dragged downriver a bit by the current.

"They are landing on the other side," Jaime said.

"But I think they started from here," said another soldier. "I heard the oars splashing and I came down and saw them in mid-river, my lord."

"Oh, its no trouble, my lord," said the sharp eyed one again as some clouds moved and more moonlight bathed the river. "Just some man and his woman. Maybe some locals."

Jaime felt a chill run up his spine. "Woman?" he asked.

"Yes, my lord. Look, they are getting out of their boat. All in red, she is."

"Kill them!" Jaime shouted as he felt a sudden sense of dread. "Kill them now!" he shouted louder and the men all raised their bows and fired across the river but the arrows fell short or wide and the two people on the far side scrambled up the bank and were soon gone. In the gloom Jaime saw her briefly, and saw that it was a woman in red and then fear clutched his heart. Fear he had rarely known, but now he knew what was happening.

"With me!" he shouted and many men followed him and soon they converged on the commander's pavilion. The two soldiers guarding it stood there as if nothing was wrong. Perhaps he had been foolish, Jaime thought. He quickly stepped inside and a scene of horror greeted his eyes.

Sitting at the table with his head tilted back and his life's blood pouring out of his slit throat was Lord Tywin Lannister, Warden of the West, Lord of Casterly Rock.

The men who had followed him recoiled in horror as Jaime rushed in and clamped his hands over his father's throat, in vain trying to stop the blood. Tears filled Jaime's eyes and his father croaked and tried to speak but could not. Then Kevan was there and the other commanders were rushing in and all was chaos. Someone was screaming for a maester as others were praying to the gods. And then Jaime heard his father say one last thing.

"A shadow," Lord Tywin Lannister whispered. And then he died.