Chapter 30 Stannis

It was a hollow victory, the Battle of King's Landing, and Stannis Baratheon knew it even before it was over. He stayed on the beach by the Iron Gate and watched the city burn for two days. His men tried to stop it, the people who fled returned and also tried to stop it, but in the end the gods did it for them with a heavy rainfall. By that time two-thirds of the city was ash and rubble, and thousands, perhaps tens of thousands, of its citizens were dead. Then in the days that followed an illness broke out, the result of the unburied dead. Stannis ordered burial parties to find them all and burn them in great mounds outside the city gates. But still the sickness raged, and now even some of his soldiers were ill.

"Tell me the numbers," he said to Grand Maester Pycelle as they stood on a balcony of the Red Keep, looking out over the destroyed city.

"Of sick, almost one thousand civilians, Your Grace, are still suffering. Some have recovered, many more have died. We are burning the dead as soon as they pass. It has not spread to the civilian camps outside the city. I think it wise to keep those outside away from the city until it passes."

"I have already ordered it to be done," Stannis told. "How many of my men are ill?"

"But a few dozen at last count, Your Grace."

"Separate them from the rest of the men."

"It has been done."

"Good," Stannis said as he turned around. He looked at the Grand Maester. "Tell me Pycelle, what is the cause of this pestilence?"

"I believe it is caused by the foulness of the fresh water supplies, Your Grace," Pycelle replied. "We have found dead bodies in the wells, in the sewers, and in the Blackwater Rush. But with the recent rains and our collecting and burning of the dead, I believe the illness will run its course soon. In the meantime it is best if we find a new source of fresh water for your army."

"There are streams and brooks near the Rosby Road," Stannis told him. "I will order the men to only use them for fresh water."

"That will help, Your Grace."

"Now tell me the numbers from the battle."

"Of dead, your army and navy lost roughly two thousand men killed, Your Grace," Pycelle began, reading from a scroll of parchment covered in figures. "Of wounded there are still 653 in my care inside the city. Several dozen died in the night, mostly those with severe burns. There is naught I can do for them but give them milk of the poppy, and my supplies are running low. Of missing, there are still more than 500 according to the information your commanders have provided. I am sure some of them are floating out in the bay and may wash ashore, Your Grace."

"These numbers are accurate?"

"As best they can be, Your Grace," Pycelle answered. "War is a chaotic, bloody business."

"There's no need to tell me that, Grand Maester," Stannis said in his grim way. "You did not include the cavalry that attacked the Lannisters."

"I'm sorry, Your Grace, but I have no information about them."

Stannis grunted. "They are gone, dead, or captured or scattered. Most of them were Renly's men to begin with. They played their part. Now we have few cavalry left. Do you know what this means, Pycelle?"

"I am not a military man, Your Grace."

"I suppose not. It means we are at a stalemate. It means that we must stay here and consolidate our position. Kevan Lannister will not attack fortified infantry. Both sides can bring in supplies from outside. Us from the sea, the Lannisters from the west. The advantage in this is ours. If this illness does not ruin us first, we will outlast them. The fall rains are coming and soon winter after that. The Lannisters cannot stay in the field in those conditions. And soon will we have more allies. Have you sent the ravens to everyone?"

"As you commanded, Your Grace. As of yet we have had no word from anyone."

"They will write. They will bend the knee. The false king is dead. They need a king. I am the only one left."

"Forgive me, Your Grace, but Balon Greyjoy still claims to be King of the Iron Islands."

"A pile of rocks in the sea," Stannis said with contempt. "We will let him rule his rocks until we are ready to make him bend the knee like he did to my brother a decade past."

"Yes, Your Grace. But…forgive me again, but what of Tommen Bara…Lannister?"

Stannis snorted. "Another false boy king. He will hide behind his mother's skirts at Casterly Rock no doubt, while his father and Ser Kevan and the Imp plan war on us. You will see, Grand Maester. The small folk and the high born in every corner of the realm will soon know I sit on the Iron Throne and they will throw their support behind me."

"Yes, Your Grace. I…I should see to the wounded. Can I be of service in anything else?"

"Just one thing. Has Ser Davos Seaworth been found?"

"No, Your Grace. The last report stands. His ship was one of the few lost in the royal naval attack. He was last seen diving over the side as it sank. A few of his men made it to the shore, including his son who served with him. But Ser Davos has not turned up yet. Ships are still combing the bay's islets and rocks for survivors. He may be found yet."

Stannis nodded and then took the scroll with the casualty figures and dismissed Pycelle. He marched inside his quarters, the former Queen's quarters. Now Cersei's clothing and belongings had been removed and his men had brought in the few things Stannis had brought on campaign with him. There on a dresser was the crown his brother Robert had worn when first crowned years ago. It had been found in a storage room on a shelf with some of Robert's swords and daggers and armor, and his massive war hammer he had killed Rhaegar Targaryen with. He knew Cersei had not kept these things for sentimental reasons. Perhaps she did not know of them or Joffrey had ordered the stuff to be undisturbed. But now the crown was his and he had used it in his coronation ceremony.

He sat at a table and poured some lemon water in a cup. He stared at it for a moment and then left it alone. He did not know where the water came from and if he got ill that would be a disaster. He looked to a shelf where Cersei had kept some wine and selected a bottle. He was never partial to wine and ale and mead, unlike his two brothers, especially Robert. He poured a small bit of yellowish wine in a cup and swallowed a small amount to drive away the thirst. It was the first drink of wine he had in many years, and he found he still did not enjoy the taste. Hopefully, the last drink of wine he would ever have. Wine weakened a man, made him foolish and slothful, like Robert had been. He called his guards and ordered them to find him some fresh water from outside the city, clean water, well away from latrine pits and dead bodies if possible.

Stannis sat again and looked over the figures Pycelle had given him. It grieved him Davos was missing but he would not show it. He needed a man like Davos at his side. Davos spoke plainly to him, unlike most of those who were under his command. He had been the one to suggest landing at the Iron Gate. His other naval commanders wanted to sail up the Blackwater, to directly attack the small royal fleet that was there. But when Davos insisted it was folly, Stannis asked him where he should land. One look at a map and Davos pointed right to the Iron Gate.

"Here, Your Grace," Davos had told him. "The beach is not wide but with the high tide the ships can get right in and land the men close enough for the men to wade in and hardly get wet. And we can bring in extra supplies and also provide cover for your landing."

Stannis saw right away it was a good plan. And so it came to pass and they landed and caught the enemy by surprise. The fight was bloody but they had been prevailing. Then the wildfire had exploded and his capital city was in agony.

He was standing on the beach directing more men towards the Dragon Gate to protect them from the enemy cavalry there when it had happened. The shock almost knocked him to the ground and then he knew the city was in peril. But there was nothing they could do as the fires spread. Soon the crowds inside overwhelmed the gold cloaks and the gates were flung open and the people fled as his men stood aside. He told his men to spare any gold cloaks who surrendered and surrender they did, in the hundreds. They found the body of Janos Slynt just inside the gate, crushed to death by the stampede of humanity who had fled the fires.

A long while after that, while he was directing parties to care for the civilians and to begin fire fighting efforts, four of his men came to the Iron Gate beach from the direction of the Red Keep, along the narrow shore there. They had been part of a small force he sent that way to make sure no enemy sorties came upon them by surprise from that direction. They had with them a body. At least he thought it was a body at first. But then he realized the person was alive. To his utter surprise it was Joffrey.

He was soaking wet and had no crown or helmet. His left arm seemed bent at an odd angle, as if it was broken and he was dazed and barely conscious.

"A present for you, Your Grace," said the sergeant in charge of the detail. They dropped Joffrey to the sand and rocks in front of Stannis. His men started cheering all around him. Shouts of 'kill the bastard' rang out from hundreds of throats.

"Where did you find him?" Stannis asked the men.

"He fell from the walls," the sergeant said. "When the big fire went off. He landed in the water and he came up for air once and then started sinking. He would have drowned, Your Grace, but we went out and got him. I think he broke his arm when he hit the water."

Stannis bent down and looked at this boy who called himself king. "Joffrey?"

Slowly the eyes opened and Stannis could see shock and pain there. As Joffrey saw who was looking at him the eyes widened in fear.

"Uncle?" he said in a weak voice.

"I am not your blood," Stannis said grimly. "I am no brother of your mother or father, the Lannister whore and the Kingslayer." He looked at the men who brought him. "Stand him up."

They picked Joffrey up and all the men cheered and more shouts came for Joffrey's head and Stannis could see he was trembling in fear. At that moment Melisandre landed from a small boat. She came right up to the scene.

"I foresaw this," she said at once. "You would defeat the false king and take the crown that is rightfully yours, Your Grace."

"He fell from the walls." Stannis said to her dryly. "Did you foresee that?" Stannis was tiring of her. She had killed his brother and Tywin Lannister with her foul arts. She had set fire to the Tyrell camp. He had agreed to it and all of it was necessary for his victory. But Davos had warned him that his men were whispering that Stannis could not win without her. He ordered her to stay on the boats as the battle commenced, and refused her offer to use some other foul trick. Now he was winning, winning without her help, and she showed up and began making statements to make it seem see had foreseen all of this.

She stared at him and smiled. The red woman was pale and fiery at the same time, a combination that made her seem beautiful, a terrible beauty at that. "No, Your Grace," she said. "I only knew he would fall. But victory is yours nonetheless. He must be burnt as an offering to the Lord of Light."

A great cheer went up as the men nearby heard this and Joffrey's cries for mercy were lost in the tumult. Stannis looked at the woman in red and then at Joffrey. He was no blood of his, but he would not subject the boy to the fire while still alive. No man deserved that. He knew she would be angry, but it was time to show his men who was in charge.

"Put steel in his hand," he commanded the sergeant.

"Your Grace?" the man said in confusion.

"Give him your sword!" Stannis shouted and suddenly all was quiet except for the whimpering of civilians and the crackling of the fires and shouts of fear beyond the city walls.

Melisandre touched his arm. "The Lord of Light demands this king's blood while he is still breathing."

"He is no king," Stannis growled and he pulled away from her touch and glared at the sergeant. "Do as I say or your head will be next."

The man pulled out his sword and handed it to Joffrey. Joffrey took it and at the same time Stannis drew his sword. While the sword was coming out of its scabbard he saw Joffrey snarl in rage and strike out at Melisandre. Her eyes widened in shock and Stannis knew she never saw that coming in her fires. His own sword just blocked Joffrey's blow before the sword hit her chest and then the duel began.

It did not last long. Joffrey was younger and weaker and hurt. He was less experienced and as Stannis beat him back with his men cheering, Joffrey's rage turned to fear and then terror. He had had years of sword training, however, and he countered Stannis' blows, until finally he was backed up by the walls of the city and what little power his body had left was gone and he knew he was lost, alone and without anyone to help him. Finally, Stannis knocked his sword from his hand and Joffrey fell to his knees.

"I yield!" he shouted and many men laughed.

"There is no yielding in this battle," Stannis told him. "Only one of us may live. Only one of us can be King."

"I am your blood," Joffrey said, his words coming out in a whimper. "My father was your brother!"

"You are no blood of mine!" Stannis shouted and then his sword swung and he put all his strength behind it and Joffrey didn't even move, knowing if he did not die by the sword he would die by the flames and the former was much preferable to the latter. The sword was glowing in the light from nearby fires and it was very sharp and bit deep into his neck and in a second the head was off and rolling on the sand. The body stayed kneeling for a second as blood spurted from the neck, and then it collapsed as well and a great roar of triumph rang from every throat that saw the death of the false king.

Stannis turned to Melisandre. "Now you can do with him as you wish."

She did. As his men put Joffrey's head on a pike and stuck it in the sand, she ordered a crossed pole erected and his body burned. She whispered to Stannis to stick his glowing sword in the brush at the foot of the Joffrey's body and he did so, going along with her bit of theater as she caused the brush to burst into flames. He still owed her much, he could not forget, and so he did what she asked once more.

Stannis ordered his men to begin building earthworks extending from the Dragon Gate to the sea by the Rosby Road. He put the civilians to work to help them. In the morning the army rested and fed on the growing mounds of supplies his ships were bringing in. Control of Blackwater Bay was complete. Then he sent the men in the city in force and full fire fighting efforts began. But they made little headway. It was only when the heavy rains came on the second night that the fires were finally extinguished. The whole time he expected the Lannisters to attack. He had found out his cavalry had distracted them but had not destroyed them, and then there was no more word from his cavalry. The scouts reported the Lannisters were in camp by the first bridge over the Blackwater, in a strong position. Stannis waited, to see what they would do.

On the morning after the fires were out, Stannis and a large force made its way into the city to the Red Keep through the smoldering ruins. They found the gates barred and the drawbridges up. He told them Joffrey was dead, that the gold cloaks had fled or surrendered. After a short while Pycelle came to the gates. He asked for terms, for mercy for the people inside.

"Open the gates and lower the drawbridges and you shall have mercy," Stannis told him. "Resist and we will slaughter every man and rape every woman."

A short time after that the gate was opened. Stannis kept his word, and even hung two of his men who raped a serving girl. He allowed a bit of looting by his soldiers to satisfy them for the great effort they had made. Many homes were abandoned and many more destroyed. With so many dead and gone, personal property was left unguarded everywhere and his men gathered a substantial pile of loot. Stannis ordered any raw gold or silver and all coins brought to the Red Keep treasury but the men could keep jewelry, gilded plate and cups, or anything else they thought of value. In this way over the next few days Stannis' army gather a large sum of money from the ruins of the city. Littlefinger supervised it all and counted the coins as they entered the Red Keep's treasure vaults. There was some protest from some merchants and civilians who had remained but Stannis told them they had to pay for the rebuilding of the city and for the food his army was now providing them. After one of the more vocal ones was confined to the black cells for a short stay the rest shut up and scurried off to hide their valuables that had survived the fires.

After the gates to the Red Keep were opened, Stannis made his way to the throne room and immediately called together all the lords and ladies who had been hiding in the Red Keep. One of his men brought out a sack and produced Joffrey's head to the horror of those assembled. After it had been clearly established that the false king was truly dead, a septon was found and he declared Stannis Baratheon king of the land, crowning him with Robert's old crown.

Melisandre had been upset at his choice of a septon and she did not attend the ceremony. He provided her with lavish quarters in the Red Keep. Each night she came out into the main courtyard and built huge fires and her followers among his men chanted with her and prayed. Stannis knew the lord and ladies of the city were mumbling about this strange foreigner and her strange religion. Stannis allayed some of their fears by ordering plans to begin for the rebuilding of the Great Sept of Baelor.

That was three days ago, five days since the battle. Now that the fires were out, and much of the loot gathered, the great clean up began. Civilians and some of his men were clearing the streets of rubble. They were finding bodies and bringing them to the large piles outside the walls to be burned. More food began to arrive by sea and the people were happy with that. Pycelle and his assistants were doing all they could to stem the sickness and Stannis had a feeling Pycelle was right, that it would soon pass once the dead bodies were removed and the water supplies were clean again. The heavy rain had done much to cleanse the city already. But it would need rebuilding, and it would be costly. It was time to see Baelish.

They met alone in the small council room, and Baelish looked as dapper and as chipper as ever. Stannis wondered about the man, who had turned his cloak so easily. He was loyal to his coins and his whorehouses, and nothing more, Stannis decided. He would have to be watched carefully.

"Tell me the count," Stannis said as soon as Baelish sat with his ledger books. He opened one and turned to a page.

"We have gathered almost six million in gold from the city, Your Grace."

That sum staggered Stannis. "Six million?"

"Yes, Your Grace. The people of King's Landing had their money stuffed in the walls, in their mattresses, under their floorboards, in their pots and in every other place you can imagine. When the fires came and they fled most had no time to gather it. The six million is not all gold, but what I calculated the value of the gold dragons, silver stags, and copper pennies we have gathered are worth. A lot of it has melted into slag, but can be re-minted as coin. Actually, I think there may be more out there but it is still hidden in the buildings that were unharmed or the damaged ones your men have not had time to search yet. Also, when we approached the ruins of the Sept of Baelor the surviving septons vowed to curse all of us to a deep dark hell if we looted their coffers and your men backed off. At least the ones who believe in the Seven. There was some disagreement with the men who follow the Lord of Light, and then…"

"All my men have orders to leave the septs and septons be," Stannis interrupted him. "We will need them to help gather support from the Seven Kingdoms."

"A good point, Your Grace," Baelish stated. "May I make an observation?"

Stannis stared at him. "You may."

"The Lord of Light is not well-known in these parts," Baelish began, speaking cautiously, and then Stannis interrupted him.

"You need not remind me of that, Lord Baelish. You forget I am from here. I grew up with the Seven as my saviors as well as you did. Now stick to your coins and books and speak no more of this."

"Very well, Your Grace," Baelish replied, unabashed, as if he had not been rebuked at all. Either the man had ice for blood or he was so stupid to think he was indispensable to Stannis. "The six million will just about cover the realm's debts," Baelish continued.

Again Stannis interrupted him. "Joffrey's debts, you mean. Robert's debts. Not mine."

"I believe those the realm owes will not see it that way, Your Grace."

"If I recall from when I sat on Robert's council the Lannisters lent him much coin. They will not be repaid a single copper as long as their army is in the field and they refuse to bend the knee."

"That will take care of half the debt, Your Grace," Baelish said right away. "Another several hundred thousand is owed to some minor houses. I believe by repaying them soon we can garner their support more readily."

"They all should all bend the knee without such carrots being offered," Stannis stated.

"Indeed," Baelish replied. "I shall make this point when I offer a first partial payment. Now, the remainder of the debt the realm owes to the Iron Bank of Braavos."

Stannis snorted. "I suppose we must repay them."

"It would be wise, Your Grace," Baelish said. "Both late kings kept putting off this matter. I advised them that the Iron Bank rarely does not collect in some way or another."

"I know their reputation. Send word that we would like to make some kind of plan to repay them."

"Very good, Your Grace," Littlefinger said as he took notes in his ledger. "There is also the matter of payment to the merchants we have bought food and other supplies from in Pentos and Myr and Lys."

"Make some beginning payments to them as well to buy us time and keep our credit good."

"Excellent," Baelish replied, making more notes. "Then there is the cost of rebuilding King's Landing. Since we have confiscated much of the coin of the people…"

"The people who are dead or fled, you mean," Stannis replied. "We will foot the cost of repair to the streets and walls, sewers and wells. The Sept of Baelor as well shall have crown support. The rest are on their own. The more people who move away the better. This city has always been a stinking overcrowded morass. No more. Call some architects and engineers. I want some wider streets, more regular planning of city blocks. Those who rebuild must follow new guidelines. We shall also have more open space and parks. Start with Flea Bottom. It shall be a tree lined boulevard. That cesspool is gone and it shall not rise again."

Baelish looked a little disturbed by this news. "Did you own a whorehouse in Flea Bottom, Lord Baelish?"

"Several, actually," Baelish replied with a slight grin. "All gone now. A minor loss. Many of my businesses survived the battle and fire."

"See to the rebuilding, but no new whorehouses."

Baelish nodded as he took notes. "I will consult the builder's guilds and find a suitable designer for all your plans, Your Grace."

"Very well," Stannis said. "Let us move on to other matters. I need to form a new small council. You shall be master of coin. Ser Davos was my first choice for Hand but now he is missing so I must rethink this. Pycelle will join us. And we must nominate a new city watch commander. I have two or three men in my army in mind. Perhaps one of my wife's relations. Where is Lord Varys?"

"The word is he fled during the battle," Baelish told him. "Perhaps through the tunnels under the city."

"I had a report from some of my men that they fought some Kingsguard and the Imp in the tunnels. They thought Joffrey was with them. I think now it was Tommen and Cersei. Lord Varys would know these tunnels, would he not?"

"Most certainly, Your Grace. Perhaps he feared what you would do with his head if he had stayed."

"I could have used him," Stannis said, disappointment in his tone. "But not now. He certainly helped Cersei and Tommen and the Imp flee and is now with the Lannisters. He will pay with his head when this is over."

Baelish grinned. "Very well, Your Grace. I would also be cautious about Grand Maester Pycelle. For years he was Tywin Lannister's man."

"The Grand Maester is a member of an order that has no allegiances."

"True, Your Grace, but not all men do as they are supposed to. For instance, has he told you where Princess Myrcella is?"

"He has. And she is no princess."

"Did he offer this information or did you ask?"

"I asked," Stannis said in an irritated tone. "Lord Baelish, when I served on the small council while my brother was king you always enjoyed casting aspersions on other members of the council. Such muckraking is at an end. Whatever issues you have with Pycelle put them aside or I shall find a new master of coin."

"Of course, Your Grace," Baelish answered. "My apologies. One more point, if you please. Will you be needing a new master of whispers?"

"In time," Stannis answered and said no more on the subject. He hated spies but they had their uses and it was a pity Varys had declared himself for the Lannisters. Just then Pycelle entered the room.

"Forgive me, Your Grace. We have had a raven from Highgarden. From Lord Tyrell. I have not opened it yet."

"Read it," Stannis commanded.

Pycelle took a look at Littlefinger and then sat and opened the raven scroll. As he read he smiled. "Wonderful news, Your Grace. Lord Tyrell offers to swear loyalty to you. In return he wants his children released immediately."

"Good news, indeed," said Baelish. Pycelle handed the message to Stannis. He read it and handed it back.

"Write back immediately," Stannis said to Pycelle. "I will release his daughter once Lord Tyrell takes the field against the Lannisters. When they are defeated and the kingdoms are at peace I will release his son."

"A wise move, Your Grace," Pycelle said and then left to carry out his orders.

"Soon the rest will come crawling once they know Highgarden has bent the knee," Stannis said.

"Yes," Baelish replied. "Including the Starks."

Stannis stared at him very hard. "Ned Stark is no enemy of mine."

"Of course not, Your Grace," Baelish answered. "He is however, protecting your brother's bastard son."

"The boy is of no consequence," Stannis said in a dismissive way. "He is a bastard and cannot inherit any more than the other bastards of Robert's can."

"Joffrey thought he was a threat and tried to have him and the rest of Robert's bastards killed."

"Joffrey is dead and I care not what he did or thought now," Stannis said evenly. He stood. "We are done for now, Lord Baelish." And then he marched out of the room without another word.

As his guards fell in behind him, Stannis thought on Ned Stark again. They had never been friends, not like Ned and Robert had been. The first day he was in the Red Keep Pycelle told him of what had happened to Baelish, how he had been arrested and accused of helping start the war by whispering in Ned Stark's ear that Tyrion Lannister had tried to kill his son. Baelish had denied it of course and there was no proof, but it seemed both Ned Stark and Tywin Lannister believed it. And Stannis had it from several sources that Baelish had been the one to betray Ned when he tried to arrest Cersei and her children. Yes, the lords of King's Landing were falling over themselves to cast blame on Baelish. Stannis knew some of it was anger at Baelish for turning his cloak. But there was also most likely some truths behind it. One more reason not to trust Baelish too much.

Stannis also heard the reports from Pycelle about the ironmen on the Stony Shore and of ironmen at Moat Cailin. Balon Greyjoy trying to recapture the glory of years gone by with these piddling raids. The Starks would take care of his raiders. Ned and his men had reached the Twins, Robb Stark had wed and then they had marched north to fight the ironmen. The Stark host would not be easy to communicate with for several weeks as they moved up the Neck, fought the ironmen and made their way to Winterfell. But Stannis was confident they would get the job done. Then he had to decide what to do with Ned Stark.

He was a confessed traitor, but in Stannis' eyes he was nothing of the sort. He promised to take the black, but that promise had been made with a sword at his and his daughter's throats. The Starks had kept Tywin Lannister busy while Stannis' army dealt with his usurper brother and the false boy king, Joffrey Lannister. Stannis knew he needed Ned to hold the north. His son had done well in the battles in the Riverlands. They would make good allies in the years to come. He knew he must offer Ned a pardon and restore him to all his titles and lands. Robb Stark had a taste of being lord, if for a short time, but now he would have to wait until his father died before he became the Lord of Winterfell. But all this depended on Ned and Robb Stark expelling the ironmen from the north.

The rest of the day Stannis spent inspecting his army, visiting his wounded men, consulting with his commanders and reading reports from his scouts about the position of the Lannister host, which was unchanged. A few stragglers from the cavalry force finally made their way to King's Landing in a roundabout fashion and Stannis finally knew for certain that his cavalry was a spent force. Some of them had swung around to the north and came down on the city from the Kingsroad. Two claimed to see a long column of Lannister men marching north about five miles west of the Kingsroad, making for the Kingsroad. They estimated there were about two thousand men. Most likely going to Harrenhal, Stannis thought. A second report came that another Lannister force was approaching on the Goldenroad from the west. They were waiting for reinforcements before making their move, Stannis now knew.

But where would they move? Would they attack King's Landing, to recover the Iron Throne? And to kill him. That was a strong possibility. His army was in a strong position, but the city walls were lightly manned. But he could easily rectify that. The Lannisters could invest the city and a siege would begin. Some of his commanders said they should move out and meet the Lannisters in battle. Stannis told them no. A siege would work in their favor as long as the sea and the Rosby Road were open for re-supply. And soon Mace Tyrell would march, or he would never see his children again. When the Tyrells came down on the Lannisters from the rear, Stannis would then move out to battle them.

When Stannis returned to the Red Keep dozens of lords and merchants and others wanted to see him but he ignored their wishes and went to his quarters. He would have to have a Hand soon, to deal with these people and other minor problems while he took care of the war. After a long day at work Stannis retired, refreshed himself, and supped alone in his rooms. Then he put on a light suit of chain mail and buckled on his sword again. He made his way to where the Tyrell whelps were kept. He ordered his guards to remain outside the room with the other guards already there.

He found them at a small table eating their supper of soup and bread and drinking some wine. Loras stared at him with a sullen look while Margaery at least had the courtesy to stand and greet him properly.

"Your Grace," she said with a slight bow. "Good evening."

"Lady Tyrell," he said with a nod. "Ser Loras, how fairs your leg?"

"Better," Loras replied in a grunt. "When it is fully healed will you meet me in single combat?"

Stannis snorted. "I have answered you already on that matter. Let it be."

"Afraid are we?" Loras spat. "Or would you'd rather fight a thirteen-year-old boy with a broken arm who has just fallen from the city walls? Oh, yes, we have heard how you met him in single combat."

"Loras, please," his sister admonished him.

"Listen to her, Ser Loras," Stannis stated strongly. "Insulting me will only make life more difficult for you and your sister. The false king had to die, you know that well. His choices were a death by fire or a death with steel in his hand. I gave him the more honorable choice. No man can say I butchered him or dishonored him."

"No," Margaery agreed. "No man can say that, Your Grace."

Loras gave his sister a cold look and then looked away from them both. Margaery looked at Stannis and smiled. "What news of the war, Your Grace?"

"There is no news except this," Stannis replied. "Your father has agreed to bend the knee."

Margaery brightened. "That is good news, Your Grace."

Loras glared at Stannis. "He would never do so if we were not here."

"No, he would not," Stannis replied. "But that is the situation and he has agreed to swear loyalty to me. Lady Tyrell, you shall go home as soon as your father's army takes the field."

"What army does my father have?" Loras said in disdain. "Your red whore saw that it was destroyed."

"Not all," Stannis replied, ignoring the insult to Melisandre. "Your father can muster great strength yet. He will help me defeat the Lannisters and their new false king. Then you will go home, Ser Loras."

"New king…oh, Tommen," said Margaery.

"Another false boy king," Stannis told her.

"Will you meet him in single combat as well?" Loras asked in a mocking tone.

Stannis tired of this. "Good evening."

As he was just outside the doors Loras shouted at his sister. "How can you grovel to him when you know very well he had Renly killed?"

Stannis paused. "Renly is dead, dear brother," he heard her tell her brother. "We are alive. Please take care of your tongue around the King. He is not known for forgiving men who insult him."

Stannis almost grinned at that comment. She was wise this one, wiser than her brother, who was still full of anger. Anger for being a prisoner, and anger for Renly's death. Unlike Robert, Stannis knew what their younger brother was. Stannis had found out by chance. He had seen Loras coming from Renly's quarters one morning years ago in the Red Keep. At the door Loras had given Renly a kiss that was a lover's kiss and Stannis knew the truth. He had been aghast and disgusted at first. He fought an internal battle with himself, whether to confront Renly or tell Robert or do both. But in the end he let it go, for what love he had for his younger brother, and it had been one of the hardest things he had ever done. And for this Renly repaid him by claiming what was his and by spurning his attempts to end their war. As he thought on the parley they had had Stannis remembered the peach again and it still vexed him and he did not know why.

And then he remembered the red woman, asking him if he wished her to take care of his problem with his brother. For a long moment Stannis had said nothing and then he nodded just once. A few days later and Renly was dead. And then she had used her powers to light the grey mist afire and panic the Tyrell army. How she did it he never asked. Then once more she used her power to kill, and Tywin Lannister had died. Ser Davos had rowed her across the Blackwater and back. She had been the one who said he needed to make a parley with Lord Tywin and she insisted on being there. Now he knew something, or suspected it. She had to meet the person in order for her powers to work. And water was an obstacle to her power. As he drifted off to sleep that night Stannis thought on what she had done and wondered, not for the last time, if he had made a pact with some demon from hell, not a servant of the Lord of Light.

The next morning as Stannis ate his breakfast in his rooms he received a raven message from Dragonstone. It was from his wife congratulating him on his victory, claiming R'hllor was guiding him. And she asked when she and their daughter could come to King's Landing. Not till the war is over, Stannis thought. As he thought on a reply his guards told him Lady Melisandre wished to see him.

"She may enter," he replied and stood as the red woman entered his chambers. She was as she always was, dressed in red, still pale and beautiful and he could feel the heat from her when she was still several feet away.

"Good morning, Your Grace," she said and he bid her to sit and she took the chair opposite him.

"Have you broken your fast?" he asked.

"Yes, Your Grace," Melisandre replied. She looked at him steadily. "You have missed the evening prayers the last three nights, Your Grace."

"I have been busy. War does not leave me much time for other things."

"We must pray even when we feel tired, Your Grace. Your victory has been great. But it is incomplete."

"There is no need to remind me of that."

"The boy king is dead, but there is another. And the kraken still calls himself king."

"You claimed he would not be long on his seastone chair."

She smiled. "I did. In time he will fall as the false king did."

"And the new boy king?"

Her face turned grim. "Him I cannot see in my fires. Not yet anyway."

Stannis thought he knew what that meant. She would see Tommen and she would know what would happen to him only when he agreed to something she wanted. Now what will she demand? He must choose his words carefully. Stannis knew her power was great. She had helped him defeat his enemies. Now she will demand her payment. "You have been most helpful in securing my crown."

"I only do R'hllor's bidding," she replied. "It is time to spread his word to the Seven Kingdoms."

That was expected. "It will be done as I promised," Stannis told her. "But not now."

"I understand," she answered. "The people will worship their seven gods and they will cling to them. But these seven gods will not bring them salvation from the danger that will come. Only the one true god, R'hllor, can save them, as it has saved you."

"It is too soon. I need their support for the battles to come."

"Yes. The Lord of Light will be patient. But, King Stannis Baratheon, First of Your Name, the day will come when you must declare R'hllor as the one and only true god of the Seven Kingdoms. Only then will your crown finally be secure."

"The people will resist."

"Then we shall make a few examples of some lords and ladies. When the people see them screaming in the fires they will agree to take R'hllor into their hearts as you have."

"That still will not stop them from worshiping, in secret at least," Stannis replied. "I know these people. You do not. The Seven have been here for ages, yet many people of the north still worship the old gods. The Starks…"

"Shall worship R'hllor or they will burn," Melisandre said strongly and he swore for a second he saw fire in her eyes.

Before Stannis could reply a knock came to his door. "Yes?" he shouted impatiently. Pycelle entered in his slow ponderous way. He blanched when he saw Melisandre. She smiled at him.

"Grand Maester," she said pleasantly. "What news?"

He ignored her and turned to Stannis. "Your Grace, Ser Davos has been found. He is alive."

Stannis stood at once. "Take me to him." Melisandre stood and seemed ready to follow. "I need speak with him alone."

"As you command, Your Grace," she replied and sat down again.

As Stannis and Pycelle walked Pycelle explained that Ser Davos was found on a small group of rocks in Blackwater Bay and he was very dehydrated and malnourished, but otherwise unharmed.

Ser Davos was sitting up in a bed in a chamber nearby where many wounded men were being kept. He struggled to rise when Stannis and Pycelle entered.

"Stay still," Stannis commanded him and Davos remained as he was.

"Your Grace," Davos spoke, in a weak voice. "I heard you have won a great victory."

Stannis snorted. "Not so great. The city is badly damaged and the Lannisters are still in the field."

Davos nodded. "Your Grace…my sons?"

"All have survived the battle," Stannis told him and Davos took a great breath of air and sank into his bed.

"The gods have been good," Davos said, his eyes closed for a moment and Stannis supposed he was saying a small prayer. When he opened his eyes he looked directly at Stannis, his eyes now more alive than before. "I would like to see them."

"Grand Maester," Stannis said to Pycelle, who was standing behind him. "Find his sons and tell them their father lives and bring them here."

"I believe some are still on the bay looking for him," Pycelle replied. "But I will see if any are in the city or nearby."

After Pycelle left, Stannis and Davos talked for a while. Stannis explained all that had happened while Davos remained mostly silent. Only after a while did Stannis notice that the pouch Davos had carried for many years with the ends of his fingers in it was missing from around his neck.

"I lost it in the bay," Davos explained after Stannis asked about it. "My luck is gone."

"Your luck is good, ser," Stannis replied. "You are alive. Many men are not. When will you be better?"

"A day or two at most," Davos replied.

"Good. I will name you Hand of the King Ser Davos Seaworth."

"Your Grace, I am honored, but I am not worthy. Your wife's family, they will see this as an insult. Perhaps Ser Axell or another should be Hand."

Stannis grunted. "Those fools wanted my navy to sail up the Blackwater Rush. You had the right of it. No, you will be Hand. Rest, ser, and then you will help me plan how to destroy these Lannisters and their new boy king."

Stannis left him then and then made his way to the small council room where a meeting was scheduled with Littlefinger. He found the master of coin already present.

"Your Grace," Baelish said as he stood and bowed. "I have heard Ser Davos has been found. How fortunate."

"Yes. He will join us when he is better. Sit," Stannis told him. When they were both seated Stannis said one word. "Begin."

"First item, Your Grace, payment to Sallandor Saan. He claims he did his part in the battle and now wants what is owed."

"Can we afford it?"

"If you plan to never repay the Lannisters, then most certainly."

"Very well. Pay this pirate what is owed. But remind him that piracy is illegal and if I catch him attacking ships on the high seas near the Seven Kingdoms I will have his head, no matter what service he did for us in the past."

"I shall remind him. Second item, your Kingsguard."

"I don't need one. My guards are enough. And the Kingsguard did little to help the Mad King, Robert, or Joffrey. If you forget your history Lord Baelish, need I remind you why Ser Jaime Lannister is called the Kingslayer?"

"No, Your Grace, but the people still hold to traditions. And your life will always be in danger while you sit on the Iron Throne."

There he goes again, telling me the obvious. But this time Stannis let it go. And perhaps he was right, he should keep some traditions. There was but one man he would trust to form a new Kingsguard. "Where is Ser Barristan Selmy?"

"No one knows, Your Grace. When Joffrey dismissed him, he left the city and no word has been heard of him since."

"He would make a fine commander of a Kingsguard," Stannis commented. "Let us leave this for now. Next item."

And so it went, for about an hour, and finally Baelish was done and went off to carry out Stannis' orders. Then he met with his army commanders and heard all the reports and was glad to learn that the illness had not spread any further in the army.

After his lunch Stannis came to the throne room. He stood for a long time at the base of the dais, looking at the Iron Throne. Someone entered the room behind him.

"Your Grace, you wished to see me?"

"Yes, Master Mott," Stannis said as he turned. "I want to discuss the boy Gendry."

"He is gone, Your Grace," Master Mott replied. "He left over a moon's turn ago."

"Why?"

Mott gulped. "I was told his life was in danger. King Joff…"

"The false king," Stannis said sharply. "Never forget that."

"No, Your Grace. The false king wanted him dead."

"Who gave you this warning?"

"A man in disguise, but I believe it was Lord Varys."

"Not surprising," said Stannis. "I suppose Ned Stark had a hand in this."

"I know not, Your Grace. I was told by this man, maybe Lord Varys, that the boy's life was in danger and he had to leave the city. The man told me to tell him the Night's Watch was looking for recruits by the Mud Gate and if he wanted food and a new home he best go there."

"Good thing you did," Stannis told him. "The false king truly wanted him dead. You know why?"

"I mind my business, Your Grace."

"Are you telling me you did not know Gendry was my brother Robert's bastard son?"

Mott hesitated and Stannis could see he was nervous. "Calm yourself man. I only want the truth. You remember I came to your shop with Lord Arryn and saw the boy?"

"Yes, Your Grace. After that I knew who he was, for certain. I had suspected in the past."

Stannis nodded. "He is Robert's oldest son. A true son, of his blood, despite being a bastard, not like these Lannister whelps his whore of a wife bore. It seems right Gendry should be a smith. Was he good at his work?"

"Yes, Your Grace, very good. He was a bit stubborn, and did not get on well with the other apprentices. But he was skilled and had great strength."

"Strong and stubborn, like his father," Stannis said. "It may please you to know he still lives and is with the Starks heading to Winterfell, the last I heard."

"That is good news, Your Grace."

Stannis then walked up to the Iron Throne, stood beside it and looked down on Mott. "Come up here, Mott."

Stannis thought Mott's eyes would popped out of his head he was so surprised. After some hesitation he climbed up the steps and stood in front of the throne, making sure he was on a lower step, his head below Stannis' head.

"What do you see here?" Stannis asked him.

"The Iron Throne, Your Grace," he said as if it was obvious.

"Yes, the Iron Throne, the seat of all power in the Seven Kingdoms. But I also see a chair," Stannis replied and the shock on Mott's face was obvious. "An uncomfortable chair. I plan to sit on it for a long time."

"The gods be good, Your Grace."

"Are you the best armorer in King's Landing?"

Now Mott's eyes lit up. "The best, Your Grace." Then his face fell a bit. "But my home and shop were destroyed by the fires. Some of my apprentices are dead as well."

"Do you still have your tools?"

"Some, Your Grace. I will get more."

"Then I have a new job for you."

"A new suit of armor perhaps? A sword? I…"

"No. This." He pointed to the Iron Throne. "Make it more comfortable."

Mott stared at him uncomprehending. "Your Grace? It is the Iron Throne. I could not…"

"You will and you shall," Stannis told him in his stern way. "I plan to sit on it for a long time. Beat the barbs off it, smooth out the rough edges of these ancient swords, do whatever it takes. Do this for me and I will restore your shop and find you new apprentices. Make it a better throne, Mott. The time of old and false kings is over. It is time for a new beginning in the Seven Kingdoms. And it starts right here."