Chapter 32 Varys

"Dorne and the Vale are so far staying neutral," Lord Varys reported to the commanders of the Lannister host. "As far as I can tell that is."

"How reliable are your sources?" Ser Kevan asked him. It was night and they were sitting around a rough table in the commander's pavilion. Ser Jaime and the Mountain and Ser Addam and the other commanders were all present. The only one missing was Tyrion Lannister, who had ridden the day before for Harrenhal. Varys knew his wisdom would be sorely missed.

"As reliable as can be under the circumstances," Varys replied. "My little birds are still out there, gathering the news. But they are having trouble coming to me as no ravens are trained to come to this camp. So the news will come, but not as fast as we hope. The song I hear from Dorne is that they are pleased and vexed at the same time. Vexed as to what to do, as they have no love for either Stannis or Tommen. Pleased…forgive me, my lords…but they are pleased that…Lord Tywin has passed."

He knew that would cause some grumbling. Jaime glared at him, as he expected. "Does Dorne still blame my father for the deaths of Elia and her whelps?"

"They do, my lord," Varys replied. He knew Ser Gregor and Ser Amory Lorch had done the deed but the commands had come from Lord Tywin. He chanced a small glance at the Mountain who seemed undisturbed by this discussion. Now there was a cold murderous man if there ever was one, Varys knew.

"The Dornish will never support Tommen with all their hearts," Ser Kevan said. "But Lord Varys is right. They have no love for Stannis Baratheon either. The Stormlands and Dorne have clashed in the past, and Robert's claim to the throne was secured by the deaths of Rhaegar and Elia's children. Stannis' claim stems from this as well. We can expect they will remain neutral. What news of the Vale?"

"Lady Lysa trusts no one, including Stannis Baratheon," Varys told them. "She may bend the knee to him, symbolically, but she will never send her knights and soldiers to support him. She will stay in her stronghold and ride out the war and the coming winter and her people will love her for not involving them."

"She would never support us, either," observed Jaime. "Not after Tyrion's little visit to the Vale."

"So the Vale and Dorne will remain neutral," Ser Kevan summed up. "What news of the Riverlands?"

"They are very quiet, my lord," Varys reported. "Much damage was done to their lands and they are busy trying to get in one last harvest before the snows come. The latest shipment of gold from Casterly Rock reached them a week past. That makes it a little over half of what was promised paid. We still hold several dozen of their lords and knights as hostage and they still have equal numbers of ours. Some families are being prickly over ransom payments. The Riverlands lords may also bend the knee to Stannis but they will beg off supporting his war, citing their recent heavy losses and the devastation of their lands as reasons."

"Lord Edmure knows we will crush him if he stirs from his castle," Ser Gregor commented.

"I expect the Tullys will not stir, not with so much recently lost," Ser Kevan said. "But we know they will never support us as well." He turned back to Varys. "What of the Starks and the North?"

"They hate us," Jaime said and no one disagreed. "But are they in any position to help Stannis?"

"They are not," Varys replied. "The latest news I have of them is that they are moving up the Neck towards Moat Cailin."

"To turn their army around, to march south again, would be costly," Ser Kevan said. "They would need to re-supply and would not find so much as a chicken or a bushel of wheat in the Riverlands. No, Ned Stark will take his people home. He knows winter is coming soon."

"But will he bend the knee to Stannis?" Ser Addam asked.

"He will," said Ser Kevan. "And Stannis will restore him as Lord of Winterfell and there is nothing we can do about either. If our war lasts past the winter the Starks may take the field again. But that is a long way off." He turned back to Varys. "What of Highgarden?"

"Disturbing rumors, my lords," Varys told them. "It seems that Mace Tyrell is prepared to bend the knee if he gets his children back."

Jaime scoffed. "Stannis would never return them for a mere promise of loyalty. He will expect the Tyrells to take the field."

"Quite," said Ser Kevan. "And that leaves us between Highgarden and King's Landing."

"The Tyrell's have no cavalry," Ser Addam reminded them. "Most of those we destroyed had belonged to lords from the Reach who supported first Renly and then Stannis."

"They can still muster twenty or thirty thousand infantry," Jaime stated.

"And they can gather more cavalry," Ser Kevan added. "Given time."

He stood and looked at a map that was on the table. "Highgarden is far away. It will be weeks before they could arrive."

"Then we must attack King's Landing at once," Jaime said strongly. "Before Stannis can get too comfortable on the Iron Throne."

Ser Kevan kept silent, staring at the map, as the commanders waited. He looked to Varys. "What news of the illness in the city?"

"It has mainly run its course, my lord."

Ser Kevan nodded and then he took a deep breath. "Yes. We must attack. And soon."

All at once everyone was talking, making suggestions, looking over the maps of King's Landing, discussing where to hit them and how. Ser Kevan looked to Varys.

"Thank you for your report, Lord Varys. You may retire. We have much to discuss. Please let me know if any news comes."

"Of course, my lord," Varys said and he bowed and left the tent and walked out in the cool night air. He had a feeling that Ser Kevan asked him to leave because he did not totally trust Varys to hear what military plans they were making. It did not bother Varys in the least. No one loved him, he knew that. They needed him and used him, as he did them, but there was no love between him and those he had served over the years. The army was still camped by the first bridge over the Blackwater. The reinforcements from the west had reached them yesterday and now with almost sixty thousand men, the camp was a massive sprawling thing that was like a city sprung up in the middle of the forests and fields of the region. It even extended a bit over the Blackwater as there was not enough room on the north side of the river.

For his long range plans, Varys thought things were going well. The Lannisters and Stannis were still ready to destroy each other. The coming battle would kill many more of them and perhaps Stannis would die this time and little Tommen would take the Iron Throne. Then his fool of a mother could weave her special magic and soon she would cause more discord and maybe even a new war, perhaps with the Dornish. All the better if it came to pass, Varys thought. The more rotten the place is the easier it will fall when the true king returns. Now what could he do to ensure a Lannister victory?

Varys had known if Stannis ever took the throne it would mean trouble for all his plans. Stannis would make a good king, and he would not stand any idiots whispering in his ears, nor would he let his emotions rule him as they did Cersei. Then again, he did follow the Lord of Light and he had the red woman at his side. If he kept the Iron Throne and tried to impose his new religion on the people, that would also mean trouble. If Stannis' red woman had her way, it would tear the Seven Kingdoms apart. The people would tolerate a new religion, let it have a place by the side of the Seven and the old gods and the Drowned god and all the other minor sects the people worshiped. But they would not tolerate anyone telling them and forcing them how to worship. If Stannis and his red priestess tried to stamp out the gods the people now worshiped, the realm would bleed like it never had before. Maybe… maybe it would be better if Stannis did not lose the Iron Throne.

Varys retired to his tent and washed and drank a bit of wine and sat at a small table and thought on what to do. He had much to think on, most importantly which side he should support. Should he help the Lannisters or Stannis win? And once he decided, how could he ensure the side he chose would succeed? Ser Kevan was determined to attack the city. Varys was not a military man but he suspected that the Lannisters did not have the strength to take the city in one blow. That meant a siege would commence.

A siege was risky for both sides. Armies besieged and doing the besieging were very susceptible to disease and starvation. However, food would not be a problem as both sides could re-supply, and therefore the siege could drag on for a long time, months, even years. With winter coming that was unlikely to happen, as the heavy fall rains and then the snows and cold would ensure that no army could stay long in the field. Even the people of King's Landing would suffer in the rain and cold and snows to come as many of its buildings were now burnt out ruins.

The Lannisters would also have to look over their shoulder, wondering if Riverrun or Highgarden was about to stab them in the back by attacking Casterly Rock and Lannisport or come to the support of Stannis at Kings' Landing. Varys had a feeling that if the Lannisters could not take the city in one quick strike, then Ser Kevan would withdraw, and not order a siege. That would be the smart move, militarily speaking. But politically speaking it was a disaster. Time was on Stannis' side, not the Lannisters. The longer he sat on the Iron Throne, the greater the support he would gather. Even if Dorne and the Vale remained neutral, Riverrun may not, and the Iron Islands were still in rebellion and close to the Lannister homelands. If Stannis made a deal with Balon Greyjoy, the Iron Fleet might just appear off Lannisport some day. Many minor houses like Rosby would also support Stannis. He was not known to be a kind man, and any house that refused to bend the knee or offer even a minor bit of support could expect to feel his anger once the war was over. If he was still on the Iron Throne.

And if Stannis won more of the coming battles, Varys knew he would seek out and kill Tommen and Myrcella, Cersei and Jaime, and Tyrion. None would be safe, not even in Casterly Rock. That mighty bastion could hold out a long time, and the Lannister gold might buy them sellswords and other allies, but in the end if Stannis had the support of the other kingdoms, the Lannisters could not last. And they had no friends left, anywhere.

No, Ser Kevan had better attack now and kill Stannis or he and Tommen and Cersei and the rest would lose it all eventually.

And that left Varys with a difficult decision. Who should he help win? He could warn Stannis of the coming attack, but somehow he knew that Stannis had read the situation as well as he did, so there was no point in that. Besides, Stannis would as likely cut off his head as reward him. The lost finger tips of Ser Davos Seaworth were proof of Stannis Baratheon's idea of justice. A man's good services were weighed against his past crimes and Varys knew his recent support of the Lannisters would weigh heavily against his survival. And if he stayed with the Lannisters and they lost, then he would surely lose his head if captured. The life of a fugitive roaming the Seven Kingdoms would not suit him at all. And if the Lannisters win he would go back to being master of whispers, helping Cersei keep control of the realm. He could stay and help her bring on her own destruction, but she was too emotional and paranoid and one day she might find his usefulness at an end and then he would lose his head as well because his head knew too many secrets. It seemed a foregone conclusion that his death was imminent. And that would not do at all, not until his plans came to fruition at least, and hopefully for many long years after that.

Varys now knew what he had to do. He would help neither side win, for it did not matter who won the Iron Throne, Stannis or Tommen, controlled by his mother Cersei. They would both kill him in the end and each was equally capable of causing the chaos in the land his own plans required. It was time to leave the Seven Kingdoms.

Varys knew that the day would come and had made his plans a long time ago, but now they were awry because Stannis' army occupied King's Landing and controlled Blackwater Bay. When Stannis' attack on King's Landing seemed imminent Varys had a ship waiting for him up the north coast of Blackwater Bay. The ship had orders to make its way to Duskendale if Varys did not appear soon after the battle. Hopefully, they had made it there. Or they may have been captured. Whatever the case, it was Duskendale he needed to reach, as it was the nearest port besides Kings' Landing where he could expect to find a ship that would cross the Narrow Sea. It may have to pass by Dragonstone or it may meet Stannis ships, but Varys had many ways to disguise who he really was from prying eyes. Perhaps Maidenpool was a better choice. Then again, the Riverlands were still in chaos so that might be more dangerous for a man traveling alone. No, Duskendale and a ship across the Narrow Sea. And he knew exactly where he had to go. Pentos was calling him. It was time to reconnect with Illyrio. It was time to relax for a while, and prepare. Then it would be time to set in motion the next part of their plans.

Once the decision was made there was no point in staying still. Varys had nothing to take with him, his belongings left in the Red Keep when the battle went wrong. Most of his documents he had gathered for years he had burned when the siege began. It would not have done for Stannis to find them, with all the little secrets Varys knew about everyone in the realm. Most of that Varys had committed to memory anyway. His many disguises and potions and poisons he also had to leave behind. A small amount of gold he had brought out in a purse concealed under his robes, but it would not be enough to go where he wanted to go. Most of his vast sums of gold and silver he had gathered over the years was stored with the Iron Bank of Braavos, which had a branch in Pentos, so he did not need to worry about money once on the other side of the Narrow Sea. But he would need more gold for his journey. First stop, the Lannister paymaster.

The reinforcements from Casterly Rock had brought a large sum of gold, silver, and copper with them, to pay the army and for any unforeseen needs. Varys found the tent where the army paymaster had set up shop. Outside were four large guards.

"Lord Varys to see the paymaster," he stated and after a moment he was allowed to enter the tent. It was lit with candles and a brazier of coals kept it warm. At a long table sat the paymaster and two clerks, young men learning their trade. All three were writing in ledger books. The paymaster was a grizzled old man, going bald, and had a drooping mustache. The fingertips on his right hand were black with ink. He was bent over his ledger book, adding numbers to it with a quill. Behind him were two more guards and four large chests, which Varys knew held much gold, silver, and copper. Varys waited a moment until the paymaster was finished.

"Yes, Lord Varys. How can I help you?" the paymaster asked as he looked up from his books.

"I am in need of a small amount for the services Ser Kevan has advised you of." That service being the paying of spies.

The paymaster looked at him carefully and Varys could see the distrust and also the disdain in his eyes. "A small amount? Being how much?"

"I think one hundred dragons will suffice. For now." He could not ask for too much or that would bring questions. One hundred would see him to Duskendale and across the Narrow Sea in some comfort.

"One hundred," said the paymaster with a weary sigh. He made a note in his ledger and then took a set of keys and moved to unlock one of the chests.

"Half in gold, the rest in silver and copper," Varys told him. The paymaster opened the chest and counted out coins and then took a small canvas bag and dropped them into it.

"Sign the ledger," he told Varys and after it was done Varys picked up the bag and was on his way. He went to his tent and changed into a pair of brown woolen pants and a linen shirt, plus a pair of soldier's boots he had acquired. He had left most of his disguises behind in the Red Keep and over the last few days had been gathering a few items to help him disappear if need be. But he needed a few more items yet.

The bag of money was a bit heavy and he would need to carry food as well so decided he need a larger bag of some sort. Plus a bit of armor and a cloak. Yes, a soldier's disguise would do for this venture, at least until he left the camp. Such things could be had near the maester's tent, as the wounded and dead had no more use for them. Varys made his way to the maester's tent and found what he needed piled outside, with no one guarding it and no one about. The maester's tent was a place most men avoided, unless in need of assistance. He found a red cloak with just a bit of mud on it and an iron half helm that fit, plus a soldier's knapsack, now empty. Most of the weapons had already been picked up for re-use, but there was a small dagger in a leather sheath that had been overlooked. He picked that up as well. He stepped behind the maester's tent and in moments had the money in the knapsack, the cloak around his shoulders and the helmet on his head. The dagger he strapped to his left forearm, hiding it up his shirt sleeve. A bit of mud on the face and a bit of a stoop shouldered walk and he was set.

Next to the food wagons. There were tables set up under pavilions with loaves of bread on them, baskets of apples and pears, piles of cold roasted chicken legs and slices of ham, plus jugs of mead and ale and skins of wine, all for men coming off watch duty late at night. Already there was a line up of men there and Varys just stepped in the line and took a wooden platter and put on it a loaf of warm bread and a few apples, some ham and chicken, and then he picked up a skin of wine and no one said a word to him or gave him a second glance. The men were weary and shuffled along and then found spots at nearby tables or on the ground near fires to eat their food before crawling off to their tents. Varys sat on the ground nearby for a bit and ate some bread and a bit of ham, drank some sour red wine, and listened to the conversations. Most of the men were restless, itching to finish the fight, and go home. They were also very bored, and missed their women back west, and wondered when the heavy fall rains would really come, and on and on, complaining like soldiers had done for thousands of years.

After a while Varys stood and went off through the camp, his knapsack now filled with the food he had confiscated. He headed for a small copse of trees at the north end of the camp. He waited in shadows of the tents for the right moment, when the guards left a gap in their patrols, and then he just calmly walked out of the camp into the woods. Twenty careful minutes later he emerged on the other side, the red cloak and helmet now discarded.

Varys walked for an hour heading northeast towards where he knew the Kingsroad was. Twice he had to lie flat in brush as mounted men rode by, no doubt scouts sent out from King's Landing to make sure no surprises came from this direction. A short time after the last encounter he hit the Kingsroad and crossed it quickly then headed in the general direction of Rosby. It was a clear night and he looked up and saw the sky filled with stars. Varys had learned a long time ago to use the stars and sun to help him navigate, a useful thing to know when he was a thief in his youth, crawling over the roofs of Myr and Pentos in the night, where many roofs looked the same and streets had no names and twisting alleys went in many directions. The stars were in slightly different positions on this side of the Narrow Sea but he had learned quickly and now used them to head in a general northeast direction.

As the sky in the east started turning light, just before dawn, he walked through a field of wheat ready for harvest and came on a farmhouse. He was exhausted, his plump body not used to so much walking. He needed a rest and a horse or some other means of transportation. He could have taken one from the army but that would have been noisy and might have attracted unwanted attention. Varys sat down in the tall wheat on the edge of the field and listened for a while, heard the mooing of a cow, the clucking of some chickens. When the sun rose, a rooster crowed and then after a short time a young woman and two small children emerged from the home, the woman moving to milk the cow tied up near the house, a boy and girl moving to the chicken coop.

The woman had long brown hair tied back in a ponytail. She wore a blue woolen blouse and brown skirt. She was thin and had a long nose and was not ugly but was no beauty either. Varys stepped out of the high wheat and approached the woman. She saw him coming and stood quickly from the cow and raced to the side of her house and pick up a pitchfork.

"Stay back!" she shouted and a few seconds later her two children came running to her side. The boy looked about seven or eight years old, the girl about a year younger. Both had thick brown hair and brown eyes.

"I mean you no harm, good woman," Varys said. "I am a weary traveler looking for a place to rest."

"We got no place. Be on your way!" she said, holding the pitchfork in front of her, the two small children by her side, the boy looking defiantly at Varys while the girl clutched her mother's skirt.

"I can pay," Varys said and the woman's eyes lit up for a second.

"Pay? With what?"

"Silver."

She hesitated and then spoke quickly. "We got no food to give you," her tone softening a bit. "King Stannis' lot came two days back and took my two goats and half my chickens. Had to…had to…beg, to let me kept the cow. What we got, we need for the coming winter."

"Where is your husband, good woman?"

"Gone," she said, her face growing sad. "They took him to fight for King Joffrey. We ain't had word of him in over a moon's turn."

Varys could see it all, how the war had taken its toll on this family. First, they came for the man and put a spear in his hand and gave him some simple training. Maybe he was dead, maybe not. Then they came and took her animals. Maybe she had to give up her body to some soldiers so she could keep her cow. At least they weren't dead yet, unlike many in the Riverlands.

"I need lodging for a few hours, just to rest. I have my own food. I will pay for the lodging." Varys reached into his pocket and took out a silver stag and held it out. The boy stepped away from his mother and snatched it from his hand and took it to her. She looked at it carefully.

"Real silver," she said, her eyes a bit wide in surprise. Then she lowered the pitchfork. "Royce," she said to the boy. "Take him in and show him the bed."

"I thank you for your kindness," Varys said with a dip of his head.

The boy named Royce walked toward the small house and Varys followed. Inside there were just two rooms, a kitchen and a bedroom. The kitchen had a fireplace and a rough wooden table and four chairs. A cupboard had some wooden bowls and plates and spoons. A large bread knife was on a counter next to half a loaf of bread. A bowl held a few small apples. A chunk of yellow cheese wrapped in a cloth sat next to the bowl of apples.

"In here," Royce said. The bedroom had one big bed and he guessed they all slept together. Or maybe the children slept in the kitchen when the father had been here. The bed was made and it had a thick blanket. Varys thanked the boy and then took off his knapsack and lay down, and knew right away it was a feather bed and sighed. Chicken feathers no doubt, not as good as goose or duck, but much better than scratchy straw. Varys usually prefered a hard bed which was better for his bad back but after so much walking the feather bed felt devine. He kept his hand on his dagger under his sleeve, as he relaxed. He could have slept in the fields, but this was better, and he also needed some information and a horse or some other means of transportation. After a few moments he closed his eyes and rested.

How much time passed he did not know but when he awoke he felt refreshed. He heard people moving and talking. In a flash he was up. It was just the woman and her children in the kitchen. He smelled something cooking.

Varys stood and came out of the bedroom. The woman was cutting the bread and the children were sitting at the table. In the fireplace a small fire was burning and a pot of something was hanging over it and bubbling. She took the bread to the table and her children each snatched up a piece and began to eat.

"May I ask where the privy is?" Varys asked.

"Outside," the woman said. Varys went out and looked at the sky and guessed it was just past midday. He slept at least five or six hours. He found a small outhouse behind the farm house and about fifty feet from it. After he finished using it, he took a careful look around. There was a stone oven, with a small chimney, and a small pile of cut wood nearby, and he knew this is where they baked their bread. Nearby was a vegetable garden, mostly plucked clean. By the side of the house at the back Varys saw a wooden door at ground level, and this most likely led to a root cellar where in the cool darkness they kept their vegetables. He wondered if Stannis' men left her anything there. He looked around and spotted a well over near a tree. It had a bucket on a long rope and Varys went and dropped the bucket down and pulled it up, half full. He took a nearby wooden ladle and scooped some up and drank. It was fresh and cool and sweet. He splashed some water on his face and neck and then cleaned his hands. Varys soon returned to the house.

"I need information," Varys told the woman after he re-entered the kitchen.

"Don't know what I can tell you," she said as she stirred the pot of soup over the fireplace.

"The road to Rosby," he asked. "Is it safe?"

"Don't know," she said. "The King's men are all over the place, taking what they wants. To feed his army, they told me, to protect the realm." She was mad, he could tell, about this.

"My good woman, it is better them than the Lannisters. They would have left you with nothing and might have done worse to you and your children. You have heard what happened in the Riverlands?"

"We heard." She looked more tense now and cast a worried eye on her children.

"Who is your lord?"

"Ser Cletus, with House Rosby," she answered. "It was Ser Cletus came and took my husband to the war. Took all the local men who weren't greybeards or young boys." Varys had never heard of this Ser Cletus, but he was most likely some minor knight loyal to House Rosby.

"When is Father coming home?" the little girl asked suddenly.

"I don't know, child," the woman said in irritation as if this question had been asked many times. Then she took two wooden bowls and scooped up some soup from the pot and gave it to her children, who hungrily ate it up.

"Husband gone, half my animals taken, field full of wheat, no men to help with the harvest," the woman complained as she stood by the counter. "You tell me, what good has war ever done for us smallfolk?"

"Not much, I fear," Varys replied.

She looked at him steadily. "You ain't smallfolk. When I was a girl I served in the castle in Rosby for a year 'fore I got married. You talk like them high born folk. Not the way smallfolk talk. And you carrying silver too, and giving it away like it's nothing."

"Not for nothing. For a place to rest," Varys replied. "I would give more for a horse."

"I don't have a horse," she said.

"Old Willy Jamison's farm got some donkeys," the little boy said quickly as he spooned up some soup.

"And where would that farm be?" Varys asked in the tone he used when speaking to children, a gentle lilt with a broad grin on his face.

"About an hour walk from here," said the boy.

"To the north," the woman added. "They might sell you a donkey, if the King ain't taken them all yet."

Varys took out another silver stag and pressed it in her hand. "For your troubles, my good woman," he said and she took it without a word. He went to the bedroom and got his knapsack. "I must be going. I thank you for your hospitality."

She now looked guilty. "You hungry?"

Varys shook his head. "I have food, not to worry."

She stared at him, distrust still in her eyes, but a gentleness was there as well. "Who are you?"

"Just a weary traveler, my good woman. Again, I thank you. Soon, the gods be good, the war will end and you shall have your husband back and peace will come to the realm."

"I pray for it every night," she said, emotion in her eyes, and Varys said goodbye once more to her and her children and then was on his way, heading north.

As he walked he thought on all the poor smallfolk out there, the pawns of kings and lords and knights. Varys had been one of them once, worse than smallfolk, just a slave, working for a mummers show. Until his master had sold him to a terrible man in Myr who made Varys what he was today. And for long years after as Varys rose to become the king of thieves, first in Myr and then Pentos, his hatred for those in power grew, for those who would use their power to enslave others and make them their play things. His own power grew in time, and for years he sought power for its own sake, so he could become rich and never worry about being hungry and having no place to sleep ever again. But as he grew older he realized that was not enough. He sought to use his power to influence events. Mad King Aerys had given him that opportunity.

After a short time Varys was walking along a path though some trees and he stopped for a while and ate a bit of food and drank some of his wine. About an hour later he found the Jamison farm. The farmer was an old man who had two sons taken off to the war, leaving him with just his old wife and one of his son's wives who had a small baby girl. He had two donkeys and was reluctant to sell one and finally Varys took out a gold dragon and that sealed the deal.

The donkey was large and Varys sat well on it, but it was a bit stubborn at first and wandered off to chew on some grass or would stop suddenly for no reason. It soon got used to Varys commands and he made good time riding. Early in the afternoon he hit the road to Rosby and soon came on a small village. In a shop he bought a broad traveler's hat and a brown cloak for a few coppers. At a pub he bought some cheap wine and a bit more bread and some dried fish. Varys did not linger and pressed on towards Rosby. After he left the village he thought it best to stay off the roads in case the King's men were on it. He camped out that night under a tree, with the donkey tied to the tree as Varys slept under his traveler's cloak. It rained a bit in the night and he got a bit wet but the tree protected him from most of it.

Late that evening he came to Rosby. It was a small town, as far as towns went. The stout castle of the Rosby family dominated the town but it was not that large, and very small compared to most of the realm's castles. It would fit snugly in one small corner of Harrenhal. Around the castle were many mud and wattle buildings, with a few larger ones made of wood. One main street ran through the middle of the town, with the castle to the west of the main street, and a large square opposite the castle. Varys cut through some farmers' fields until he came in on the north side of the town, coming in from the direction of Duskendale. He did not want to come in from the west or south as that might look suspicious. As he came down the road on his donkey, he saw on the edge of town a barrier with two guards with spears and swords. He pulled his hat brim low and got into the mind set of a merchant.

"Halt," said one guard wearily. The sun was already going down and Varys knew these men had been standing here most of the day and were tired. "What's your business in Rosby?"

"I am a humble merchant from Duskendale," Varys began. "I come in search of goods to sell in my hometown."

The guard looked him over. "You don't look like no merchant, not with them clothes and riding a donkey."

"Times have been difficult, I must say," Varys replied in a tone that suggested his luck had been bad.

"Tough all over," said the other guard. "What goods you looking for?"

"Food, mostly," Varys said.

"Lot of the food has been bought for the King's army," said the second guard.

"Prices are high too," said the first guard.

"Pity," Varys replied. "Perhaps I have traveled for nothing. But I am weary and would like the hospitality of Rosby for one night at least."

"Then you shall have it," said the first guard and he pulled back the barrier and let Varys in, also giving directions to an inn.

The inn was small but a room was available for two silver stags for the night. In the common room that night were a few other travelers plus some locals. Varys sat in a corner and ate some potato and onion soup and drank some fine ale. He listened to the other travelers and local people talking, and most of the conversation was about the war.

Many rumors were floating about. The most ridiculous one he heard was that Stannis had burnt King's Landing on purpose to teach the people a lesson. Others said his red woman did it to please her fiery god, and more than one person seemed to think that was possible. They also talked about Tommen declaring himself king, which Varys knew was true. Another man down from Maidenpool told how a Lannister lord had clashed with some foreign sellswords outside the town and had killed most of them but their commander, named Vargo Hoat, had escaped. Now that was interesting news indeed. Varys knew Lord Tywin had ordered Hoat found and killed for attacking Princess Mrycella's caravan. But it seemed like the Goat had slipped away again. Or maybe it was just another rumor.

The next morning Varys went about doing some shopping. He had learned in the common room the night before that a mummer's troupe had performed at the castle that night and was camped out nearby. He went there and from the mummers bought a wig of coarse brown hair and some items that he could use to disguise his face. They thought it odd he wanted such items but the flash of silver coins in his hand convinced them to sell them to him.

Next he needed some more items for his plan to work. First thing he needed was a cart. He found them hard to come by as many had been taken for the war. Finally, he procured an old one, which he managed to get for ten silver stags, a pure bargain for the owner. At a livery stable he bought harness for his donkey for some more silver and a few coppers. Then once the man at the livery stable set up the harness for him, Varys sat on the wagon and rode to the main town square, near the castle, where the innkeeper had told him the night before he might find some willing to sell food and other items.

In the main town square many farmers and various other vendors had set up carts. Varys learned that a procurer for King Stannis was there yesterday and he had actually been paying money for food, not outright confiscating it. Varys found food prices higher than he expected, as the guards had warned him. Maybe it was because the farmers and traders had gotten a taste for money and hoped to make more. Prices were also high because of the war, he knew. With the Riverlands devastated and a lack of men to bring in crops that had survived, food was growing scarce. He also knew many farmers were keeping this last harvest for themselves, or at least as much as they could without displeasing their lords.

Varys grumbled and haggled and finally bought two barrels of pickled pork for an exorbitant price he could never recoup in Duskendale, but that did not matter, as he needed the goods for his cover to get into the seaport. He also bought a bushel of red apples, a large sack of corn cobs, and also a large amount of dyed woolen cloth. Once he bought some more bread, and a few skins of wine for himself, he was ready to set out.

No one questioned him leaving Rosby on the road to Duskendale. Once outside the town he stopped in a wooden glade near a stream and applied the brown wig to his bald head. He add some mummer's theatrical makeup to make it look like he had a wart on his chin and a scraggly mustache over his lip. With his hat pulled down tight and his cloak wrapped around him he looked like a weary wagon driver heading to market. It would not do to go about as a bald, rotund man in silks and smelling of lavender soap, at least not till he reached Pentos.

By now his disappearance would arouse suspicion in the Lannister camp, and most likely they would think he had gone over to King Stannis, to tell him of all their plans and dispositions, in order to win favor and keep his head. Perhaps they would delay their new attack, or re-think it entirely. Already, by just walking away, Varys was having an influence on events he was sure.

It took a little more than three days to reach the port, the donkey keeping a steady pace despite the load it carried in the wagon. He and the donkey ate well, as Varys did not really care about the cargo as long as it helped him play the role of honest merchant. The donkey ate apples and raw corn while Varys dined on pickled pork, and apples, with bread and wine each meal. On the road he found several patrols of men with the sigils of local lords now sworn to Stannis Baratheon. They were keeping the peace for the new King they said. They stopped him and questioned him and checked his cargo and he seemed what he was, a merchant going to Duskendale to sell his goods, so they let him pass. Varys was glad they were there to keep the road safe. On his second day he saw a man hanging from a tree with a wooden sign around his neck with one word "Thief!" printed in blood, the man's own, no doubt. Varys knew Stannis' justice would make the criminals tremble and the smallfolk happy.

Near midday of the fourth day since leaving Rosby he arrived at Duskendale, coming down over a small hill with the whole town and region spread out before him. Duskendale was a larger town than Rosby. It spread out around a harbor, with a large headland of solid rock to the south and chalk white cliffs and low hills to the north. To his right was the squat Dun Fort, with its big drum towers and squat stone keep in the middle. It was rightly famous as the place where House Darklyn had held the Mad King captive for six months during a dispute over taxes and other grievances. While Tywin Lannister's army sat outside the gates, Ser Barristan Selmy had entered the fort and found the King and rescued him. After that the fort had surrendered and every Darklyn was put to the sword. The Mad King then elevated House Rykker to the Duskendale seat. Now House Rykker's banner of two crossed black war hammers on a white cross on a field of blue hung over the towers of the Dun Fort.

Two armed men with that sigil on their chests stopped him at the town gates and after a brief discussion and inspection of his cargo he was allowed entry. A light rain began to fall as Varys' wagon clatter over the cobblestones of the town streets. He made his way to a merchant house he knew about from a visit years ago. After some haggling he sold his cargo and his wagon and donkey for a substantial loss, but they had served their purpose and he had no more need of them.

A dry inn was a welcome place to rest and Varys entered the common room and had a lunch of creamy fish soup and rye bread with a halfway decent ale to wash it down. There was one other patron, and by his dress, Varys guessed he was a sailor. The sailor spoke with the accent of one not used to speaking the tongue of Westeros as he asked the innkeeper for more ale. After a bit the man finished his drink and Varys rose and followed him out the door. If the sailor was a foreigner maybe he came on a foreign ship that would soon head home.

The rain had stopped by now and the cobblestone streets had many people in them, going about their business. The streets sloped down to the harbor and Varys counted ten large merchant ships tied up, plus many small fishing vessels and other small boats. Three of the large ships were oared galleys, and the others fat sailing cogs. The ship he had hired for his escape was not among them. Varys saw the sailor from the inn climb aboard one of the galleys and he headed straight for it.

A quick conversation with the captain and Varys learned they were bound for Myr in two days time and he wanted five gold dragons for passage, which was quite expensive. Besides, Varys had no desire to go to Myr ever again as long as he lived. Too many bad memories of that place.

The next two ships were not heading out for at least a few days or maybe a week. A fourth was about to go into dry dock to have its bottom scrapped of barnacles and seaweed. The fifth was heading to Kings' Landing with a cargo of dried fish and salted pork. Varys certainly didn't want to go there. Finally, at the sixth ship, a fat sailing cog, he found what he wanted. The captain was from Pentos and the crew a mix of men of the west and east. They were heading for Pentos on the tide with a load of woolen textiles, furs, pig iron, and dried fish. The captain wanted four gold pieces and for that Varys got a small cabin with his own chamber pot, a small narrow bunk, a whale oil lamp, all his meals, and no questions asked.

After looking over the cabin, Varys went ashore and bought a few more items for his trip, including a few candles for extra light, some new small clothes, a blanket, and a few books he found in a shop near the wharves that also sold inks, quills and parchment. Varys was not sure what fare they would serve on board the ship so he filled his knapsack with some fresh bread, pears and apples, and he bought three bottles of fine wine. It had been years since Varys traveled by ship and he was not looking forward to it, as he had a delicate stomach. Strangely, he found wine helped settle his stomach the last time he traveled by sea and so he had brought it as a seasick remedy.

The ship had two masts and many square sails. That evening before sunset as the high tide turned and the water began to flow out of the harbor, they pushed off from the docks and unfurled a few small sails and let a light breeze and the changing tide carry them out of the harbor. Varys stood on deck as the sailors scrambled about, climbing rope ladders and pulling on sails and ropes and shouting in their rough language. He watched the town's lights fading in the darkness, and said a silent goodbye to Westeros. He had come here twenty years past, to first serve the Mad King for more than five years, and then Robert for fourteen years. After him it was Joffrey for a short few months, and finally Tommen a few short days. Now he was leaving, but he knew that some day he would return, at the side of the rightful king of Westeros.

The worst of those years he spent in Westeros were at the start, with King Aerys. His paranoia grew with each passing day. Varys knew he was partially to blame for that, especially for when he believed Prince Rhaegar was fermenting rebellion against his father during the tournament at Harrenhal. Varys had information that Rhaegar was meeting some lords to discuss removing his father from the Iron Throne. Varys knew Rhaegar never liked him, and feared what would happen to himself if the Prince came to power. To prevent this it was a simple matter of whispering in the Mad King's ear what he suspected. Despite his attempts to avert the Mad King's demise, at Harrenhal it all fell apart anyway. Prince Rhaegar named Lyanna Stark as his queen of beauty and love and from that foolishness events cascaded into rebellion which saw the deaths of both the Prince and the King.

As soon as they passed the southern headland that protected the harbor of Duskendale the sea began to show its power, the cog began to rock, and Varys began to fell a little queasy.

"No stomach for the sea?" the captain asked him in the common tongue of Westeros as he saw Varys' pale face in the dieing sunlight. The captain was a heavy man, with a big black beard and a scar below his left eye. He dressed in a heavy seaman's coat and heavy boots with a sealskin hat on his head.

"Afraid not," Varys told him, trying to control his desire to retch. "How many days to Pentos?"

"A week or more, depending on the winds," the captain replied and Varys felt sick at the thought of seven or more days on this ship. "We are no galley and the gods blow the winds and make the tides and currents and take us where they will. We will get there when we get there. But fear not, I know these waters and the Narrow Sea and I am a good navigator. We will make Pentos, unless the gods decide otherwise. Lucky you are traveling now. In a moon's turn the really bad fall storms will come. I think this will be my last trip this far north until winter passes."

"A sound plan, my captain," Varys replied. "What route will we take?"

"If the winds are with us we will pass south of Driftmark," he replied. "Then make for the Narrow Sea through the Gullet between Driftmark and Sharp's Point, and then pass by Massey's Hook. There is no danger if the weather holds. But King Stannis' galleys patrol the entrances to Blackwater Bay so we may be stopped."

"Not carrying anything illegal are you?"

The captain grinned. "No. Unless you are a wanted man."

Varys chuckled. "Alas, I am but a poor merchant who is seeking new markets in the east, my captain."

The captain grinned, and raised an eyebrow. "So you say. I care not. Your gold is good. Just don't cause any trouble if we get boarded."

Varys remained calm, knowing that there was nothing he could do about being boarded and also knowing that a few men would see him for who he really was in his current disguise. Then he leaned in closer to the captain and spoke in a low voice in the Pentoshi dialect. "What news of the east?"

The captain grunted and also spoke in the dialect of Pentos. "More war, between Myr and Lys again, maybe Tyrosh as well. And news of dragons, to the far east."

"Dragons?" That surprised Varys.

"Some fool sailors from Qarth said a young girl came out of the Red Waste with three baby dragons, one on her shoulder and two sucking at her teats."

"All the dragons are dead," Varys replied.

"Just so," the captain answered. "A sailor's tall tale is all."

"Who was the girl?"

"They said she had long silver hair and purple eyes and was a beauty that would put most women to shame and break many a man's heart. The story is she was the girl who was wed to a horse lord just outside Pentos almost a half a year past, but he died in the Dothraki Sea and she fled with a few of his riders to Qarth."

Varys now knew with certainty he spoke of Daenerys Targaryen. He knew she had married Khal Drogo just outside Pentos. Illyrio had given her three dragon eggs, now petrified into stone, as wedding gifts. A gift of great value, but they could not hatch into real dragons. Or could they? He kept his face without emotion as he spoke again. "An interesting story. If true."

"Just so," said the captain. "Dragons walking the world again. That I would like to see."

"But not too closely," Varys added and the captain chuckled and then was busy with his sailors setting the sails for their voyage across the mouth of Blackwater Bay.

Varys retired below to his cabin and then drank some of his wine and lay on his bunk with the oil lamp nearby and read one of his books, a history of old Valyria. It was bland, but detailed, and recounted the Valyrian conquests and the many wars between the cites of the east after the Doom destroyed old Valyria. After a while he grew bored and blew out the lamp and slept.

The next day it was more windy and Varys spent much of it in his cabin, drinking his wine, reading his books, and trying to avoid getting sick. When there was a call to eat he went to the lower deck where the sailors slung their hammocks and also had their mess tables. A large iron stove sat in the middle of the lower deck, a black metal pipe reaching up through the wooden deck above, to let the smoke out into the air. The stove was giving off a nice warmth, and by it the cook was preparing their meal. It was salted pork, boiled, plus boiled pease and boiled potatoes, with fried onions, hard bread, and weak ale. Not the finest food Varys had ever eaten by a wide margin, but the sailors seemed to love it and ate lustily. Varys sat with them and ate as best he could, picking at his food, and endured some jests at his expense about not having his sea legs yet. They were from the east and west and spoke the common tongue of Westeros, some of them badly. Most of the talk was of the war, and who would win and how that would affect trade. After they ate, the captain ordered a tot of rum for all, and Varys took a tot as well and felt the warmth flood through him, helping to ward off the chill of the ocean air.

On the second day they passed through the narrow straight called the Gullet. They saw a galley far off to the north and behind them. It turned towards them, but the winds were strong and they soon out distanced it and it gave up the chase. Most likely one of Stannis' ships, Varys thought, glad it had been out of position to stop them for inspection. The next two days the seas were moderate and Varys felt good and spent much time on deck. On the fifth day a squall came up in the morning and they got tossed about badly and Varys finally gave in to sea sickness. His sat on the floor in his cabin, hunched over his chamber pot for hours. He tried to settle his stomach by drinking the last of his wine but it did not help as he vomited it all up again in a few seconds.

Thankfully the seas calmed that evening, and Varys slept most of the night. In the morning he drank a large amount of water from the ships fresh water kegs, knowing he had to keep hydrated after vomiting so much. The captain told him quietly that half the crew had been sick also and there was no shame in losing your breakfast in a squall like that.

Four days later, with just a few more rough patches of weather, they came into the large bay on which Pentos lay in the mid afternoon. The day was fine, the sun was shining and the winds were just light enough so they could enter the city harbor. Varys looked over the large city that sprawled along the harbor and the lands beyond. The city had many square towers and the roofs of most buildings had colorful tiles. Varys knew the city was lead by a prince from one of the forty noble families of Pentos, but it was really controlled by a council of the richest traders, and his friend Illyrio Mopatis was one of the richest.

They dropped anchor in the middle of the harbor and then waited for the health inspectors to come aboard. Two hours later they arrived and an hour after that they left, giving the ship and crew a clean bill of health. Varys knew that many years ago a plague had come to Pentos on the backs of rats from Braavos and Illyrio had lost his second wife to the disease. Since then no ship was allowed to dock without a health inspection. The cog he was on had three large cats that spent their days and nights prowling for rats in the ship's holds.

The captain raised anchor and put out two small row boats and the men attached lines to the big cog and towed her into the docks where they found an empty berth. After securing the ship to the dock, and hauling his rowboats back on board, the ship had a visit from more Pentoshi officials. The cargo was inspected and the captain had to pay dock fees, and tax on his cargo, and varies other duties. Varys knew that the owner of the ship, not the captain, really paid for all this, but the captain had to deal with the officials and the paper work. He bid the harassed captain farewell and made his way to dry land.

As he stepped off the ship his legs felt like rubber and the land swayed. He had to stop and put his hand out and rest for a moment, leaning against a wharf pillar. After a moment he felt better and walked up the street and soon found a sailors' inn and took a room for the night for three silver stags. They accepted payment in coins from anywhere, Varys knew, being so close to the docks that had sailors from all over the world.

Varys went to his room and removed his disguise. He did not want to appear at Illyrio's manse looking as he did. And it would be rude to just show up unannounced. Besides, Varys had a feeling that Illyrio would soon know he was in the city. Not much escaped his attention in Pentos.

Sure enough, by the time evening came and Varys had rested, washed a bit and removed the wig and make up from his face, a knock came to his door. He stood, went to the door, and took out his hidden dagger from his sleeve.

"Yes?"

"I have a message from a friend," came a voice in Pentoshi.

"What is the message?"

"You are invited to dinner."

"I know the way," Varys replied through the door. "Tell him I will be there shortly."

"Just so," said the voice and then he heard footsteps walking away and then Varys relaxed. You never opened your door to strangers in the Free Cities, even if they claim to come from friends.

Ten minutes later he had left his room and found a back entrance and walked through a small alley and emerged in front of the inn on the street, carrying his knapsack. Varys walked for a bit and the street was noisy and full of people, mostly sailors, coming and going from bars and brothels, staggering drunk from one to the other. A few fights broke out but the hovering city watch broke them up quickly. Mostly they left the sailors alone, let them blow off steam and blow their pay on wine and whores. Pentos depended on trade and sailors for its livelihood, so the watchmen were not too harsh on the sailors.

Soon he came to a more respectable neighborhood and he hoped to find transportation here. On the street near a large open air market Varys saw a horse drawn carriage for hire and he paid a silver stag and told the driver where to take him. The man looked at him in surprise when he said the address but then he put his whip to his horse and they were soon moving.

As he rode Varys thought again on why Illyrio had involved himself in the lives of Viserys and Daenerys Targaryen. Viserys had once promised to make Illyrio master of coin once he took the Iron Throne, but that promise died with the Beggar King after Khal Drogo crowned him in molten gold. Varys rather suspected Illyrio had other long range plans, hoping for a Targaryen victory in the west that would bring him exclusive trade rights and make him rich and more powerful than any man in the east. Varys new Illyrio hungered for power for the same reasons Varys had, to never be poor and hungry again, to never be spat on or looked down on again. He also wanted to use power to influence events, and once he mastered the intricacies of Pentoshi politics, he hungered for a bigger game, the biggest of all, the game of thrones. There were no kings and thrones to be won in the east, no one great man or woman to rule it all. Not so in the west.

Twenty minutes later they pulled up to the manse of Illyrio Mopatis. Varys tipped the driver another stag and he thanked him.

Outside the manse two large men with tall spears wearing bronze caps on their heads stood guard. They did not even speak to him but one opened the gates and Varys entered. Inside the courtyard waiting for him was Illyrio.

He was larger than the last time Varys had seen him, if that were possible. Illyrio had been a slim handsome man in his youth, his blond hair falling to his shoulders. Now he was grossly obese, with rolls of fat bulging at his waist, teats like a woman, his triple chins hidden by his beard. He was wearing yellow robes that would make a nice tent. His beard was shaped into two forks and was heavily oiled. He smiled when he saw Varys and Varys saw his crooked yellow teeth.

"My old friend," Illyrio said as he clasped Varys' hands in his fat bejeweled ones.

"It has been too long Illyrio."

"Just so," Illyrio replied. "Come. Let us eat and discuss matters. But first I think you need a bath and a change of clothing."

"Both were sorely lacking on the voyage here," Varys replied. He took a quick bath and felt much better for it and when done he dressed in a pale blue set of robes that fit well, and put on a pair of soft slippers. His feet felt wonderful after more than a week of wearing those soldier's boots.

Dinner was a gorgeous affair, as Varys knew it would be. Suckling roasted pig, fat stuffed quails, a large baked pike, buttered mushrooms, baked potatoes loaded with heavy cream, many salads and other small delicacies. Then came dessert, pies and cakes and pastries and all the wine and ale they could drink, all being the best of everything.

As they began the meal Illyrio spoke and asked about his voyage and they made pleasant small talk. Varys knew this was just the warm up to the real things they needed to discuss. Unlike in the west, the people of the east took their time with such matters, and it was considered rude to begin a discussion with the most important matters.

Finally, Illyrio got to the main point. "Things must be bad in the west for you to leave so abruptly."

"Not so abruptly you did not know I was coming."

"It so happens the ship you sailed on is one of mine."

"Ah. That explains much."

"Just so. When the captain came to make his report he explained about his strange passenger. I had a feeling it was you, old friend, once he told me you drank wine to rid your belly of its aches. Why did you leave Westeros?"

"I left because it was time to leave. The Lannisters and Stannis Baratheon are equally capable of bringing ruin on the kingdoms without my help. I also feared that my head would soon adorn a stake."

Illyrio nodded. "Then you did the right thing. I still have need of your head. And so does the Queen and the King."

Varys nodded. So we come to it. "What news of them?"

"The King is where he has always been, protected by those we trust, learning as much as he can."

"Is he ready to take the Iron Throne?"

"Possibly. But the Seven Kingdoms need more time to destroy themselves first."

"Yes," Varys agreed. "And what of the Queen. I have heard the strangest stories of her."

"Of dragons?"

"Yes."

"All true, as far as I can tell. Khal Drogo killed Viserys and then after an assassin failed to kill Daenerys and confessed he was in the pay of the King of Westeros, Khal Drogo marched south, planning to find ships to take his horse warriors to invade Westeros."

Varys knew that the assassin was one Robert had him send. Varys had done it, knowing he could not avoid it without Robert becoming suspicious. Fortunately, the assassin had failed. "Khal Drogo must have been quite angry to plan to cross the seas to Westeros."

"Just so. But he took a wound in a clash with one of his own men and it never healed properly and he died. What happened next is uncertain. After he died his khallasser broke up into various factions, that much I know. Daenerys fled east, with some few followers and Ser Jorah Mormont. They emerged from the Red Waste outside Qarth. And she had three newborn dragons."

"Dragons," Varys said in awe. "From the eggs you gave her as a wedding present perhaps?"

"Uncertain. But we have heard the story from more than one sailor coming from the east."

"But these dragons are yet babes. They would not be of use in battle for a few more years. If she can control them. We must bring her and the dragons west. We must let her know she is not alone. It is time to tell her of our plans."

"I have already sent someone to help her and advise her and try to convince her to come here. An old friend of yours from King's Landing."

That puzzled Varys. "Who is this old friend?"

"Ser Barristan Selmy."

That also surprised Varys and Illyrio explained it all, how Selmy came to Pentos and found Illyrio and almost begged to be allowed to serve the rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Selmy was now in disguise as a squire to a pit fighting legend called Strong Belwas and they had sailed for Qarth as soon as Illyrio knew where Daenerys was. At first Illyrio did not trust Selmy, a man who had turned his cloak before, but he knew he could be of value to Daenerys. Illyrio had also received Varys' report on how Selmy had been dismissed from the Kingsguard. With Strong Belwas to keep an eye on him, Illyrio sent the pair to the east, with instructions to find her and help her as much as they could.

"And now, my old friend, what will you do with your future?" Illyrio asked

Varys tittered. "Trying to get rid of me so quickly."

"No, you will rest here a while yet. And there is much more to talk about."

"Like who should sit on the Iron Throne. Rhaegar's son, or his sister?"

Illyrio grinned. "Two choices are better than one, or none. The son has the better claim, but no man knows what tomorrow will bring. That decision is in the future. Just so. For now, I think you would best serve our plans by going to the east as well."

Varys had not expected this. "And what shall I do in the east?"

Illyrio looked at Varys intently. "It is time for you to take your place by the side of the future King. Time to introduce yourself to him, to earn his trust. You will go to Aegon, and you will become his advisor. You will let him know of all that has gone on in the west. You will steer him to the proper course. It is time to prepare for the invasion of the west. Once there, both he and Daenerys will need your guiding hand to bring final victory and put a Targaryen on the Iron Throne once more."