Chapter 38 Jamie

The Lannister army left King's Landing in the middle of the night in a rain storm. It was a hasty move, done while they had the chance of cover from the falling rain, but nonetheless it was done with the professionalism that Tywin Lannister had instilled in his men over the years. All they left behind was their garbage and some heavy stones that could not be easily or quickly moved. Hundreds of men packed barges and rowed upstream on the Blackwater to the bridge over the river where it met the Goldroad. The rest of them marched or rode hard on the Goldroad and by daybreak had gone a good ten miles to the west. Ser Kevan ordered a halt for rest and food for two hours and then they marched again. The rains stopped by afternoon and by evening, when all were thoroughly wet and exhausted as they made camp, they had put more than twenty miles between themselves and King's Landing.

Ser Jaime Lannister thought it was folly to abandon the siege, but his uncle Ser Kevan and the other commanders had disagreed with him. The messenger with the dire news from the west had come floating by barge down the Blackwater in the late afternoon, having been on the road and river from the west from Silverhall for six days. Jaime was thinking about supper and was just having his armor removed by his squire when a soldier came to his tent and said he was urgently needed in the commander's pavilion.

"The Iron Fleet has attacked Lannisport!" Ser Kevan told him as soon as Jaime entered the pavilion. All of the other commanders except Gregor Clegane were present. They had sent Ser Gregor and three thousand cavalry on a raid to the northeast to disrupt supplies from Rosby and Duskendale and Maidenpool. When he was done raiding and destroying he was to fall back on Harrenhal and await further orders.

Ser Kevan handed Jaime a small raven scroll which he quickly read.

"Dear Uncles. Lannisport is under attack by the Iron Fleet, led by Victarion Greyjoy I believe. I command that you bring your army back to the west at once to throw these invaders out of our lands and defend your king and homelands. King Tommen Baratheon, First of his Name…"

Jaime looked to his uncle and held up the message. "How did this come to be here? No ravens can find this army."

"I brought it, my lord," said a tired looking man in chain mail with the sigil of Silverhall on his surcoat. "It was inside another message asking our people to send aid to Lannisport and to pass this message to your army, my lords. I left six days ago."

"Six days," Jaime said with shake of his head. The message had been sent by raven to Silverhall because it was the largest settlement furthest east of those loyal to House Lannister, closest to where the army was now located. "That means the attack happened at least a week ago." He looked with worry to his uncle. "What forces did we leave in the west?"

"Not much I am afraid," Ser Kevan replied, also worried. "The fleet is there, of course, but there is no mention of it." He glanced at the message again and then at the messenger.

"I have no news of the fleet, my lords," he told them. The Lannister fleet was large and had many powerful ships, but if they had been caught unawares in harbor, like they had been ten years ago during the Greyjoy Rebellion, then in all likelihood they had been destroyed once again.

"What of soldiers?" Jaime asked next.

"The city watch of Lannisport, of course," his uncle replied. "And the garrison of Casterly Rock. Plus whatever men the towns and villages can raise and arm."

The messenger spoke up. "Beg pardon, my lords, but that is not many men. From Silverhall we could only send a few hundred men under arms to Lannisport. And it is a good three or four days march to the port."

Ser Addam Marbrand spoke next. "Most of the men of the west are here with us, or at Harrenhal, or with Ser Gregor. We must send some force, at once."

Others voiced their agreement, but Jaime spoke up and they quieted down. "These ironmen are raiders, not invaders. They will burn and plunder and rape and they will be gone by the time this army marches west. It is ten days or more to Lannisport. They may be gone already."

"They invaded the north," Ser Kevan reminded his nephew "They took Moat Cailin, did they not? Who knows what other parts of the north they now occupy. No, I think Balon Greyjoy has let his new crown go to his head. He is using our distractions to attack our lands. His brother and his men may very well occupy Lannisport as we speak. We must send aid. The King and Queen Regent are all alone there."

"In Casterly Rock!" Jaime almost shouted. "Have you forgotten, Uncle? The Rock can withstand anything. It has never fallen. No, we must stay here. The war will be won here or not at all. We are almost ready for the attack. The siege engines are ready, the stone supplies grow bigger, and the men are ready. If we delay now, we may never get this chance again."

Ser Kevan took a deep breath and stared at Jaime. "And if we fail again? If they rain wildfire on us once more? The men cannot stand that again. I fear they will break."

"They will not break!" Jaime said with vigor. He looked at the other commanders and he saw doubt in many eyes and Jaime suddenly realized that they did not think they could win.

The last battle was the reason. They had delayed the attack for a few days after Varys had left. The eunuch's disappearance had shaken his uncle and the others. They feared he had gone over to Stannis with all of their secrets. Jaime reminded them that Varys had no knowledge of their plan of attack, but Kevan and the others were not so sure, fearing the Spider's vast network of little birds. It took Jaime two whole days to convince them Varys had run off to the northeast. They had searched for him and all they found was an old cloak and a helmet in the woods north of the camp. Jaime reasoned that Varys had disguised himself as a soldier and slipped out to the northeast. And why would he go to Stannis, who had always despised him and no doubt would cut his head off at the first chance. No, Jaime had said, Varys is fleeing because he thinks he is no longer safe with either army. His uncle reluctantly agreed to the attack. And then it had all gone to shit.

While the infantry attacked the enemy's Dragon Gate redoubt, Jaime had led a strong party into the tunnels, found an unguarded way, and had surprised the guard at the Lion Gate. They had slaughtered many and had the gate opened to let the rest of the army in. But Stannis had been ready for this and had stationed a strong force of archers and crossbow men in the ruins near each gate. They had rained arrows and bolts on his men and the arriving reinforcements. Then came pots of wildfire, and his men had panicked and many had fled. After that a strong force of enemy infantry advanced towards them from three sides, advancing through narrow alleys and over the rubble of burnt out buildings. Jaime could not get enough men forward and into the fight in the narrow, rubble-strewn streets. He saw Stannis for a few brief moments, on horseback, encouraging his men, and Jaime cursed his luck to have entered the city on foot instead of on horse. There was no way he could reach Stannis in the milling, fighting, dieing crowd of soldiers. Eventually they were pushed back and out the gate, and Jaime had led the exhausted remnants back to their camp. Stannis did not pursue them, his force no doubt exhausted as well.

While this was happening disaster struck at the Dragon Gate redoubt. The Lannister men took heavy losses but took the redoubt and killed hundreds of Stannis' men. As they charged down toward the Iron Gate and the supply landing points, wildfire ignited by fire arrows fell from the walls on them and was flung from catapults near the Iron Gate and from ships grounded on the beach there. In moments victory had turned into panicked retreat. Jaime estimated they had lost over two thousand dead and they had just as many wounded, plus about a hundred men missing and no doubt now prisoners.

Three days later the Lannister men south of the Blackwater captured a merchant of the Reach who had slipped out of King's Landing and was trying to make his way home. Under interrogation he told them that the whole city could hear screams coming from the Red Keep each night just after sunset. The rumor was that Stannis' red woman was burning prisoners alive, a sacrifice to her god. Jaime made sure his whole army heard this news, whether true or not. He was certain no man would let himself be taken prisoner now and all would fight to the death.

For a week they had licked their wounds as more men and supplies came in from the west. Then they began to plan another attack, this time in one place only, at the walls near the Lion Gate. They started to build more siege engines and build up a reserve of stones for the great effort. But now it seemed his uncle and the others were about to abandon it all to head west.

Ser Kevan spoke, slowly and deliberately. "Our infantry suffered grievously in the last attack. They will be required to make the major push again. Cavalry have no place in street fighting. And we still have no defense against this wildfire. If the men break and run again, it will all be over. We cannot hope to mount a third attack. The men will not stand for it, and I will not send them to be slaughtered again. And we cannot hope to starve the city as long as they control the sea. My commanders, I fear we cannot win unless Stannis meets us in open battle. And he will not do that, not without cavalry, not while he has high walls and plenty of food to sustain him."

Jaime felt himself deflating, as if all his energy was gone, as his uncle spoke. Kevan looked at him for a brief moment, but Jaime said nothing, so Kevan continued speaking.

"And now we have an even bigger problem. The Tyrells have taken the field against us, with the Tarlys and many others in support. They are more than a week's march from here, but they will come eventually. Already we have seen cavalry patrols flying banners of the Reach south of the Blackwater. They may have been forced to join against us, as Stannis holds Mace Tyrell's children hostage. But they are still coming. If this next attack fails, we will be further weakened and have two armies to face, not just one. Now, my lords, say what you will."

Ser Addam spoke first and said what many were thinking. "My family is in Ashemark, but many men of the army have kin in Lannisport and nearby towns and villages."

Others then spoke up as well, worried for their families, and someone said the men of the army would soon know and would also want to march west. And then they spoke on the Tyrell host. Someone suggested they move swiftly to defeat the Tyrells in open battle. They argued over this for a while, and for a few moments Jaime thought they would do this, which would have been the prudent move. But his uncle feared getting caught in long drawn out maneuvering or a protracted battle that would delay their return to the west. The Tyrells could avoid battle, or build a strong camp and again the Lannisters would lose heavily while attacking. Days and weeks might be lost in such an effort, Ser Kevan said, and Jaime knew he was right.

That seemed to decide it for the rest of them. Ser Kevan gave the orders. They would break camp and march west during the night. They would put as many miles as they could between them and King's Landing before daybreak, but did not need worry about much of a pursuit. They knew Stannis had little cavalry left.

After the other commanders left the pavilion to prepare the men, Jaime looked at his uncle and spoke his mind. "My father would never have abandoned this siege until Stannis' head was on a spike on the highest wall of King's Landing."

Ser Kevan bristled at the comment and seemed ready to argue but then all of a sudden he seemed to deflate and grow smaller. "He was always made of sterner stuff than the rest of the family. Jaime, you must see the wisdom of this. We cannot win."

"No, we cannot, Uncle, as long as you think we cannot."

Ser Kevan shook his head. "No, ser, I just looked at the facts and reached the proper conclusion."

"Then we should have left two weeks ago after the last attack failed."

"I…I thought we could make it work, that somehow it was still possible. But now…"

"Now we have a good excuse to break the siege," Jaime said with bitterness.

After this comment his uncle grew angry. "The King ordered us west!"

"The King is a boy! Cersei ordered us west, you mean."

"Yes, no doubt she did," Ser Kevan replied, calming down a bit. "That still does not change the fact that our homelands are under attack. We must return home."

"And what of Tyrion and his men at Harrenhal? What of the Mountain and his men?"

"We will send word to them of our movements."

"And order them west as well?" Jaime asked, wondering if his uncle was planning to abandon everything they had accomplished so far.

"No, we still need a base nearby here. Once we deal with these ironmen the war with Stannis will continue."

"Stannis and the Tyrells will lay siege to Harrenhal before long," Jaime said through gritted teeth. "Tyrion will have less than six thousand men, if the Mountain makes it to him. And the princess is there as well."

"Tyrion must send her west as soon as possible," Ser Kevan said. "As for Harrenhal, it must withstand a siege. With six thousand men, they can keep out any invaders."

"If they have enough food," Jaime replied. "We have heard nothing from Tyrion in over two weeks. We know nothing of his situation."

"Your father did not only name Tyrion Hand of the King because he was his son, Jaime. Tyrion will see that Harrenhal does not fall, you can count on it. Now see to your men. Make sure they are fed and their horses are ready. We march in a few hours."

Jaime stared at him for a long few seconds and then dipped his head. "As you command, Uncle." And then he left the tent and went to eat and prepare his men for the journey west.

The rains came and it was as if the gods had decided to help them in their plans. As Jaime rode west, he felt a deep anger and bitterness over abandoning the siege. He ached to kill Stannis Baratheon, to kill him for claiming the Iron Throne, to kill him for spreading the stories about his forbidden love with Cersei, to kill him because Jaime had never really liked the man. In the years they had lived together in King's Landing under Robert's rule Stannis had always condescended to Jaime. He knew Stannis looked down on him because Stannis was a member of the King's counsel, while Jaime was just a glorified bodyguard.

And then there was his nickname, the Kingslayer, and all it meant. Stannis just did not trust Jaime. Cersei had once told him that Stannis asked Robert to remove him from the Kingsguard and send him to the Wall. Robert had confessed this in a drunken stupor, laughing the whole time, wondering if Jaime would look better in black or white. Nothing came of it, but after that Jaime was wary of stern Stannis, and dreamt of shoving a blade in his neck and cutting off his bald head. He had the chance, at the bridge during the parley, but his father had stayed his hand, and then Lord Tywin was soon dead. After the battle by the Lion Gate, no more chances had presented themselves. He had seen Stannis on the walls by the Lion Gate, almost every day, but they had never clashed in battle.

Day came and they stopped for a while and then pushed on again, finally halting near nightfall. They made camp and Jaime saw to his men's needs. More than one asked him if it was true the ironmen attacked Lannisport and he told them as much as he knew and saw that they were worried. Some even said they should never have left without finishing off Stannis, but Jaime kept his opinions to himself, not wanting to let the men know there was any division in the high command. His father had once told him that commanders may disagree in the privacy of war councils but they should never do so in front of their men. That would cause mistrust of commanders and suspicion of their intentions, two things that could damage the morale of an army.

Three days it took them to reach the bridge over the Blackwater Rush where it met the Goldroad and here they found the men who had come up by barge already in place with a strong camp made. Supplies were plentiful, and the weather was sunny and cool. They dragged the barges out of the river and placed them along the shore, in hopes that one day they would still be there when they returned, but Jaime had little hope of that. They were too cumbersome to drag back to the west with them, and no doubt some locals or Stannis' men would eventually find them and take them or destroy them.

The next day they started early again and it was more of the same, riding and marching through farmland and passing small towns and villages, most of them loyal to the Reach. They took some food and livestock off the people, so the Tyrells or Stannis could not get them, but did not kill any unless they resisted. Ser Kevan said these people had no love for Stannis, but their lords were forced to join him and they would not be punished unless necessary.

On the eighth day of the march they reached the borderlands of the Westlands and the traditional lands loyal to House Lannister. Finally, a rider with dispatches from Casterly Rock reached them. There was both good and bad news, Ser Kevan told them as he read the news in the commanders' pavilion after supper.

"Lannisport has been badly damaged, by fire," he said with a heavy sigh. "As was our fleet, caught at anchor by the Iron Fleet."

"How?" demanded Jaime, trying to control his feelings of anger and frustration.

"It does not say," Ser Kevan told him as he handed him the scroll, which Jaime read and passed to other hands eager for news. At least most of the sailors had been able to get ashore or were somehow saved, the report seemed to say. Ships they had gold enough to rebuild, but experienced sailors took years to train. As Jaime thought on this his uncle told them the rest.

"The ironmen tried to assault Casterly Rock but got no further than the Lion's Mouth and were stopped cold by a hail of arrows and bolts and spears. They retreated to Lannisport, burnt the docks and many of the warehouses and grain silos and buildings nearby. They killed many, and took many more as prisoners and then retreated to their ships and sailed away."

"Where to?" Ser Addam asked.

"South," said Ser Kevan with a shake of his head. "They are raiding all along our coast, two or three ships stopping at every town and village. The people have fled inland, but the towns and villages have been plundered and burned. Now the ironmen are at Crakehall. That is all the news."

He passed the other letters to the commanders and they all read them and a long discussion began as to what to do.

"Crakehall is another four or five day's march south of Lannisport," Jaime said as they looked over a map.

"They will be gone again by the time we reach it," Ser Addam said in frustration.

"What are their intentions?" one other commander asked. "Where are they going?"

"South there are the rich lands of the Arbor and the Reach," Jaime observed. "If they know the Tyrells and the rest have marched towards King's Landing, the Reach is open for attack, just like our lands were."

"Maybe we should just let them burn and plunder the Reach," said someone.

"But they will return north eventually," said Ser Kevan. "Then we must stop them once and for all time."

Jaime's eye did not go south on the map, but north, to the Iron Islands. "There," he said, pointing his finger. "That is where we must hit them, as they hit us."

"With what ships?" Ser Addam asked and Jaime looked to the Arbor.

"The Redwyne fleet."

"They are bannermen to the Tyrells," said his uncle.

"Perhaps we can use this as an opportunity to patch things up with the Reach," Jaime said.

"Not as long as Stannis holds Ser Loras and Margaery," his uncle stated. "Besides, the Iron Fleet stands between them and us. And I am not sure the Redwyne fleet could do the job. The only fleet that can stand up to Victarion Greyjoy is Stannis', led by Stannis. He has defeated him in the past."

"Now I think Stannis will thank him, shake his hand and offer him dominion over our lands," Jaime said ruefully.

"Not Victarion Greyjoy's hand," his uncle replied. "He hates Stannis for crushing his fleet ten years ago. And the Greyjoys accept no offers of titles or lands. They take what they want."

There was nothing they could do for the moment and it made their frustrations all the greater. Jaime now knew for certain they should never have left King's Landing, but he kept his opinions to himself, knowing it would do no good to argue with his uncle about this matter now.

The next day they reached the hills of the west and the road got more difficult, going up and down and around hill and valley. The day after that they reached Deep Den, a fortress on the Goldroad, and a raven message was waiting for Jaime from Cersei. Most of it he already knew.

"Dearest Jaime. Our lands are under assault by ironmen. They have burnt Lannisport and attacked Casterly Rock. King Tommen needs you here. I need you here. I need you by my side. I am surrounded by fools and lickspittles. They lost our fleet, they lost Lannisport. Please hurry. I await you, my love. Cersei."

As he read it Jaime wondered how many she had hanged after the debacle. Cersei would be looking for someone to blame, someone to put a noose around, to satisfy her need to always blame someone, even when she was at fault. Tyrion was right. He was lucky he was not there when it had happened or most likely she would have blamed him. And if she ever harmed Tyrion, Jaime did not know if he loved her enough to forgive her.

That night Jaime was about to bed down in one of the fortress rooms the commander had offered him when his uncle came to him with a curious request. His son Lancel wished to speak to Jaime.

"How fairs he?" Jaime asked. Lancel had been wounded in the battle for King's Landing and had hovered near death for a few weeks before making a turn for the better. But the wound and his recovery had weakened him greatly.

"As good as can be expected," said Ser Kevan in a worried tone. "The march has not done him or the other wounded much good, but we could not leave them behind for whatever fate Stannis' red woman had in store for them. Lancel…he…he has changed."

"Changed? How?"

"He has become pious. He asks for the army septon to sit with him most nights since he regained his senses. He is speaking very oddly as well, as if he has done some great wrong and seeks forgiveness."

Jaime found Lancel with the septon now, in a private room in the fortress, away from the other wounded. Lancel was sitting up in a bed with pillows behind him for support. Jamie had not seen his cousin for many days now, not since the march began, and he was shocked at his appeared. He was thin and pale, more so than he usually was, and his hair looked more grey than blond now.

The septon said his goodbyes as Jaime came in. He smiled at his cousin, trying to sound cheerful. "Well, cuz, we will soon be home."

"Yes," said Lancel, his voice weak. "You did not wish to leave King's Landing, my father says."

Jaime shrugged. "That is moot now. You best concentrate on recovering, instead of these matters of strategy. We will need your sword for the battles to come."

Lancel nodded. "The gods willing," he said, then his eyes cast away from Jaime's face as if he was guilty of something. "Jaime…I must tell you things. I must...confess…my sins."

Jaime suddenly knew what he was going to confess and he clenched his hands into fists. Jaime had suspected something but did not believe it to be true, had not wanted to believe it was true. "Wait until you are better and we will have a long talk," Jaime told him.

"No…I need to confess…in case of a relapse. I…I killed Robert."

Was that all? Jaime wanted to say, but did not. "The boar killed Robert, cuz, not you."

"It was the wine. It was stronger than normal," Lancel said, not paying attention to Jaime's words. "He drank it all, and then, when the boar charged, he was not steady enough with the spear and it got past the tip and struck him and ripped him open. There was so much blood. But he did not give up, he stabbed the boar with his dagger and killed it."

Jaime could not deny that Robert was brave, as much as he despised him and wanted to kill him when he was alive. "An accident. You could not have known the boar would be there and would charge."

Lancel stared at him. "It was no accident. Your sister…"

"Had nothing to do with it, cuz," Jaime interrupted, his voice suddenly on the edge of anger. "She was far away. You'd best remember…"

But Lancel would not give up so easily. "She gave me the fortified wine! She told me to make sure he was good and drunk!"

Jaime's hand went to his sword and for one brief moment he almost drew it, but then reason prevailed and he removed his hand. Lancel had seen the move and just snorted.

"It matters not if you kill me…cuz."

Jaime let out a breath he was holding in. "Lancel, I should thank you, for helping kill that oaf my sister had for a husband. But if my dear sweat nephew the King hears that his mother had something to do with his father's death…need I say more?"

"The King's father is not dead. You are his father," Lancel said and now Jaime felt his blood boiling but he took a deep breath and calmed himself.

"Not you, too? Does everyone in the realm believe Stannis' lies?"

"Not lies. I know it is true," Lancel said, not flinching, as Jaime now glared at him, silent but enraged. "I know, Tyrion knows, my father knows. The whole realm knows it is true, Jaime."

Jaime snorted, and then laughed, and he could see that unnerved Lancel. "What do you know, dear cousin? What do you know of what Cersei and I share? Or do you? Do you know the sweet taste of my sister's lips and what lies between her legs as well?"

Lancel was silent.

"No? Really? Then why were you always in her quarters and why did she always send her guards away while you were there? Don't deny it, the guards told me everything. Come now. You have confessed to the rest, why not this as well?"

"She was lonely," Lancel said at last, casting his eyes away again, looking guilty again.

"And you happened to be close at hand," Jaime said in contempt, surprised at himself for not being more angry with him. "Not me, but a reasonable likeness. The blond hair and green eyes, oh yes, and even similar facial features. After all, our fathers are brothers. Were brothers. But know this…cuz. She does not love you. She has love enough for only a few people. Herself and me. And her children, of course. Our children. Oh, yes, I will confess, since that seems to be what is in the air tonight. You don't know how many times I asked her to let me kill Robert. She always said no, knowing I would be hunted and killed by Ned Stark and the rest of Robert's loyal companions eventually, no matter how many I took to the grave with me. She loves me, and so would not allow me to take such a risk. But you? No, she used you, used you to get rid of the man who married her and did not love her. Yes, you killed Robert. And if you ever mention any role she played in it to anyone, even your septon, I will kill you, with my bare hands. As for the rest…let us forget anything was ever said here. Cuz."

Lancel said nothing but then, just barely, nodded his head, and with that Jaime turned and left the room. He did not sleep well that night, thinking on Cersei's betrayal of their love. The next day as he wearily climbed on his horse he learned his uncle had ordered those still badly wounded to remain in the fortress until they recovered. Lancel was among those left behind while the march continued.

As they marched through Lannister lands the people of the villages and small towns cheered them and many men were greeted by family members as they marched through their hometowns and villages. Some men were left behind with orders to build defenses and prepare in case of any follow up invasion by the Tyrells or Stannis' forces. But Jaime and many of the commanders had little fear of that happening so soon. Stannis was as worn out as they were and both he and the Tyrells had lost much of their cavalry. With the fall rains coming and winter soon after that, perhaps a stalemate would ensure.

As they traveled through their homelands, supplies were more plentiful. After three more days of hard marching they came over a hill and down below they could see Lannisport, or what was left of it at least.

The city was big, not as big as King's Landing, but it held at least one hundred thousand people, the biggest city in the west. Or at least it used to hold that many. Jaime could see the scars from the ironmen attack. Whole blocks had been burnt out, mostly near the waterfront, and many other buildings looked damaged. In the harbor were the remains of many sunken ships, including the ships of the Lannister fleet. Masts stuck up out of the shallow waters like a stand of trees. More burned and broken hulls littered the shoreline. Several more ships were cast up against the inner wall of the stone mole which protected the harbor from storms. Men were moving over the wrecks, salvaging what they could. Jaime could also see the lighthouse on the tip of the mole near the harbor entrance had been destroyed by fire. They could see much activity in the city as people moved about, taking care of the damage, and going about their daily business.

To the right stood Casterly Rock, undamaged, flying the Lannister banners, still a bulwark against an invasion of Lannister lands as it had been for thousands of years. It sat on a high promontory facing the sea and the city. The promontory was topped by massive towers and walls and battlements, some carved from the rock itself, others made of brick and stone mortared tightly together over the centuries. On the side facing Lannisport was a stone road which ended at the Lion's Mouth, a massive gate and fortress that was as big as some castles in the realm. The gate was so named for the shape of it, carved in solid stone like a lion's head with its mouth wide open. Behind the head was the fortress and further inside was a road paved in flat stones, hugging the side of the rock as it wound its way up to the castle proper. Three more gates were on the road, not as formidable as the Lion's Mouth, but strong enough to stop or at least delay any attack. It was the only way into the Rock. One side faced the ocean with a sheer drop and the other two sides were sheer drops to rocky slops below. It was not as high as the Eyrie of the Vale, nor as isolated, but it was formidable and had never fallen.

Under it and in the nearby hills were the famed gold mines of Casterly Rock, still being mined after hundreds of years of activity. The Lannisters mined it slowly, a bit each year for what they needed, keeping their gold reserves preserved for years to come. Tyrion tried to explain the reasons behind this slow mining to Jaime once but it gave him a headache. Something about too much gold being in circulation in the realm at the same time would make it worth less. How could gold be worth less? Gold was gold.

"Home at last," said his uncle as he rode beside Jaime.

"And no ironmen to fight," Jaime replied. They were almost three weeks late, Jaime thought with bitterness, the march west a wasted effort now, as he knew it would be. He did not even look at his uncle.

"Jaime…," Ser Kevan began, as if to argue with him again, but then he stopped. "Come. We must go to the Rock and see the King and Queen."

"We should see to the army first, Uncle."

"The other commanders will take care of their encampment. Come."

As they passed on their orders to the other commanders and then turned right on the road toward Casterly Rock, not for the first time Jaime thought on how different Kevan was from Tywin Lannister. His father would never have rushed off to bend the knee to the King, any King, not even Mad Aerys or Robert, at least not before he was satisfied his army was taken care of. One more lesson Jaime had learned from his father. Any man you face in battle or negotiation is just a man, no matter what his titles and honors and past deeds. If you became overawed by all of that, then you were lost before you even faced the man. Tywin Lannister had bent the knee to kings, but he had also looked them in the eye and told them what was what, unafraid of any consequences.

Jaime and Tyrion had talked on this once, and Jaime had said their father was so confident because he was the richest man in the realm and had the strongest army at his back and everyone knew that. Tyrion had countered by saying that their grandfather had had the same wealth and army as their father, yet he was mocked and laughed at by the whole realm. The difference, Tyrion had said, was that their father did not fear using his wealth and power, and everyone knew that. In his youth he did not show any weakness, and his fearsome reputation often got him what he wanted without having to spend a single dragon or fight a single skirmish.

Well, that is until his two sons were captured and his foolish daughter decided to arrest Ned Stark. Jaime knew all that business with negotiating his freedom had vexed his father greatly. For once in a very long time he had to give up some gold and fight some battles. And he had been outwitted, by a fifteen-year-old boy of the north. Gold had been paid in plenty, battles had been fought and lost, and Lord Tywin Lannister's fearsome reputation took some damage. But all that mattered not now. He was dead, and Casterly Rock and all of the west were poorer for it.

As they approached the Lion Gate, another thought came to Jaime. The succession to the Lordship of Casterly Rock had not been settled yet. One more headache to deal with. But first he had to see Tommen, and pay his respects, as was expected. To his own son, Jaime thought. But he was the King. For now, at least. Then he had to see Cersei.

In the past that would have excited him, the anticipation of having her in his arms again and bedding her. Now that he knew the truth about her and Lancel, and that business with Robert, Jaime did not know how to react to her. Should he tell her all he knew, or just forget about it? In all the years since Jaime had first bed her, almost seventeen years ago, Jaime had never once taken another woman. He had known Cersei could not stay as faithful, not after she had gotten married. But this business with Lancel rankled him to the very core. She had used Lancel to get what she wanted. Was she doing the same with Jaime? Did she really love him?

He had no more time to think on this. As they approached the Lion's Mouth the massive iron doors gilded in gold opened up. A troop of Lannister cavalry came out of the gate followed by an exquisite carriage drawn by four large draft horses. Seated in the back of the carriage was Jaime's Aunt Genna, Kevan's sister and only surviving sibling.

The troop halted and as Jaime and Ser Kevan dismounted, Genna stepped out of the carriage, helped by one of the footmen who had clung to the back of the carriage.

"Genna," said Kevan as he hugged his sister. "It is good to see you."

"And you," Genna replied. Then she hugged Jaime and he kissed her cheek. His aunt was a rotund woman in her early-fifties, and the years had not been kind to her. She still had the blond hair and good looks of the Lannister clad, but bearing four sons and her overindulgence in sweets and drink had made a ruin of her body.

"I had thought you two would be sitting in King's Landing by now," Genna said and Jaime knew it was a rebuke as did his uncle.

Jaime grunted. "So did I."

"The King ordered us home," Ser Kevan replied.

"Cersei ordered you home," Genna told them. "It has been almost three weeks since the attack. That's when you were needed. Now… but come, let us walk for a bit."

"I need to see the King and Queen," her brother stated strongly.

"And I need to speak to you, dear brother, before you see them," his sister replied.

She started to walk away from the Lion's Mouth and Jaime and Kevan followed her after a brief look to each other. Something was afoot. "What is it, Genna?" Ser Kevan asked impatiently when they finally stopped out of earshot of any others.

Genna took a deep breath and then spoke in a low tone. "Cersei had my husband Emmon put in chains."

Jaime sighed and shook his head. He had no love for his uncle, a Frey by birth, but for Cersei to do such a thing meant things had gone awry here. "Her reasons?"

"She named him Hand of the King when they returned," Genna answered. "I told him not to accept but he was full of pride and puffed his thin chest out like he had been named King himself. Well, of course, Cersei had other plans."

"She wanted someone she could control," said Jaime.

"To blame when things went bad," added Kevan.

"Well, at least someone knows the Queen," Genna replied. "When the Iron Fleet attacked and sunk our fleet, she had two admirals hanged and the third one is now in the cell next to my husband. And he only survived because Emmon said they would have need of someone to rebuild the fleet. When they sacked and burnt Lannisport she had the captain of the city watch hanged. He had begged for the garrison of Casterly Rock to come out and help him fight off the ironmen but Cersei would not hear of it. She said they were needed to defend the King. As if anyone could get past the Lion's Mouth! She could have at least sent a few hundred men to help and it might have made a difference. There were thousands of ironmen, and the city watch was overwhelmed. They fought, and many died, and killed many ironmen, but they could not stop the carnage. The garrison stayed safe inside the Rock, and the ironmen sacked Lannisport and…well, after that she had Emmon thrown in a cell with fetters on his hands and feet, saying it was all his fault."

Jaime seethed but he wanted more information before he reached any conclusions. "How did they surprise the fleet?"

"I am not sure. You had best ask that admiral. They came at night, and when the bells started ringing and we looked out our windows on the Rock, the Iron Fleet was already in the harbor, sinking and burning our ships, which were mostly unmanned. They only stayed one day and a bit and took what they wanted but…well, you can see what they have done." She waved her hand toward the city down the slope. "Almost two thousand dead, as many or more hurt, and over six hundred taken prisoner, mostly young women and girls."

A debacle, a true defeat, right on their own doorstep, Jaime thought. Step by step the Lannister reputation for invincibility was crumbling.

"This raid has caused more damage than you know, dear sister," Kevan said ruefully. "We abandoned our siege because of the cries for help we received."

"Yes, from Cersei, not from the rest of us," she said. "Emmon at least had the sense to know it would do no good. He tried to tell her. The castellan tried the same, and so did the captain of the garrison of the Rock. They all told her it would be two weeks at least before you got here. She screamed at them all and wrote her letters and sent her ravens and well, here you are."

"The ironmen are still raiding the coast," Ser Kevan said. "We will deal with them."

"No, brother," Genna told him. "Your news is out of date. They left Crakehall more than five days ago. They were seen sailing south, to the Reach."

Jaime shook his head in frustration. "We marched all this way for nothing."

"No, not for nothing," said Genna. She looked at Jaime sternly. "You are here now, where you are needed, both of you. She will listen to you. Or at least you must convince Tommen not to listen to her. Jaime, you must set things right. You must become the Lord of Casterly Rock."

"No," Jaime said firmly. "That is for Tyrion."

Genna stared at him. "Your father's will. We opened it when we learned of his death, may the gods protect him now. The castellan and I. Tywin left the Rock to you, not Tyrion."

Jaime had expected this. Again, he shook his head. "It is an honor I have never asked for nor do I want. By all the laws of the Seven Kingdoms, Tyrion is the rightful heir. As Lord Commander of the Kingsguard I cannot inherit."

"Cersei said she wanted you to resign," Genna replied. "With the precedent set by the removal of Ser Barristan Selmy, the way is open for you to resign. It is still possible."

"Give it to Tyrion," Jaime said strongly. Why wouldn't anyone listen to him? "He once made all the shit flow to the sea. I am sure he can do it again."

His aunt chuckled at the jibe. "He would make a worthy successor to your father. If Cersei did not hate him so."

"What would you have me do?" Jaime asked her, his voice getting quiet. "Throw my sister in a dungeon?"

"We cannot do that," Ser Kevan said strongly.

"Certainly not," Genna agreed. "Tommen would never allow that, and Cersei is gathering powerful friends in court. But you could control her, Jaime. If you will not become Lord of the Rock then become Hand of the King."

"Again I say no," Jaime said, his anger now rising. "I belong with the army, fighting our enemies. I fear you have wasted your time coming to us, Aunt. Besides, Cersei has hardly ever listened to what I say."

Genna looked at him for a long few moments and then nodded once. "Perhaps you are right. I only hope you can restrain her impulses some."

"I will do my best," Jaime told her, giving her something. "I am sorry you have wasted your time warning us."

She smiled. "Warning you? No, I was just on my daily ride to the market and happened to run into you."

Jaime grinned. "Nonetheless, I thank you for the effort."

Now her face turned grim. "I am sorry Jaime to lay such burdens on you." She looked at her brother. "Both of you. Tywin is gone…and I fear we counted on his strength and wisdom too long and now we are in dire needs of such again." She looked back to her nephew. "Jaime, I need you to do one more thing for me."

"I will try. What is it?"

"If you will not take the post, at least convince Tommen to recall Tyrion as Hand of the King."

Ser Kevan grunted. "Cersei will have him in chains faster than she clapped Emmon."

Genna shook her head. "No, Kevan. Tyrion will know what to do. Jaime, you must count on your little brother, more than ever now."

Jaime agreed to do his best and promised to free his Uncle Emmon, and then Genna and her escort left them to go to market, or wherever she was really going. The ride up to the Rock took a long thirty minutes and by the time they reached the top, Ser Kevan and Jaime had agreed on what to do.

Tommen and Cersei were waiting for them in the Rock's great hall, now converted into the semblance of a throne room. They were tired and travel worn, but Jaime and Kevan were told that the King would see them immediately. No doubt people on the Rock had seen the army coming into the area and Tommen and Cersei expected them.

What Jaime did not expect was to see almost the whole of the court gathered in the great hall. In the short time she had been in Casterly Rock, Cersei had been busy. Up on the dais sat a new throne, which Jaime could see had been fashioned out of gold for Tommen, and it was exquisite. Engraved in its high back were markings of both House Baratheon and House Lannister, though Jaime knew, as he was sure everyone in this room except Tommen did, that the Baratheon ones were no longer necessary. He was a Lannister, through and through, Jaime thought as he and Kevan walked up the center aisle between the crowd of lords and ladies. King Tommen was sitting on the throne, and it seem a might too big for him, as did the newly made crown on his head, also fashioned from gold, with many rubies and emeralds and diamonds encrusted in it.

Sitting beside him on the dais on the golden seat the Lord of Casterly Rock usually sat in was Cersei, looking as radiant as ever, in rich red and gold velvets, with her golden hair falling across her shoulders. She smiled as Jaime and Kevan approached, and Jaime could not tell if it was a smile for him or because she was expected to smile in front of the court.

In front of the dais were the remaining Kingsguard, Sers Arys, Preston, and Moore, looking splendid in their white armor, now cleaner and in better shape than when Jaime had last seen them. He would have to appoint some new members before long to replace those lost.

As they reach the dais Jaime and Ser Kevan went to one knee before the boy king. "The army has returned as commanded, Your Grace," Ser Kevan said.

"Rise, my commanders," King Tommen said in his small boy's voice. Kevan and Jaime stood, and Tommen looked to his mother and she nodded once. "Thank you for your swift return," Tommen said, saying it slowly as if trying to remember it correctly. "I know now that our lands will be safe from these terrible ironmen." When he finished again he looked to his mother and she smiled and Tommen grinned back. Did I do a good job, he seemed to ask, seeking approval.

"The army is yours to command, Your Grace," said Ser Kevan.

Now Tommen looked uncertain and Cersei spoke for the first time, to Kevan and Jaime. "Your men must be tired. As are you. You may retired to your quarters, which have been prepared in anticipation of your return."

She seemed to be dismissing them but now Jaime spoke up. "I need have words with you…Your Grace." He was not speaking to Cersei but to Tommen, directly.

Cersei began to seethe but controlled herself in front of the court. "Whatever you have to say, can wait, Lord Commander." She said it with her sweet smile fixed in place.

"No it can't, dear sister," Jaime said, very loudly, staring at her. "We can do it here or we can retired to a more private place."

Cersei was about to retort but Tommen spoke up. "Yes, let us talk, Ser Uncle. I want to know about the battles. You do have some good stories, I hope?"

Jaime smiled at him. "Many and more, Your Grace. Shall we find a more suitable place?"

Tommen stood and everyone in the court bowed to him. He looked out at them, grinned and then ran off to the left and exited by a back door, with his Kingsguard close behind him. Cersei still smiled at Jaime. "Come," she said and then rose and followed Tommen and Jaime and Ser Kevan followed her. As they were leaving everyone in the great hall began to talk and no doubt it was about what had just happened.

They walked down a long stone corridor and Jaime looked about and took it all in, his boyhood home. Jaime had not been here in a long time, almost three years he seemed to recall, but not much had changed. The rooms were still the same, the paintings and tapestries on the walls the same, the windows looked out over the same courtyards or the sea beyond. At the end of the corridor Ser Preston opened a door for the King and he and his guards went inside, leaving the door opened, but as Cersei got to it she closed it and turned on Jaime and Ser Kevan as all three stood in the corridor.

"What is going on?" she demanded.

"How good to see you too, dear sister. I had not expected it to be so soon, " Jaime said, and it was no quip, but a rebuke.

She faltered for a moment, taken aback by his demeanor. "I…I was not myself," she said, suddenly becoming the wounded bird, an act Jaime had seen often enough to know it for what it was. "We were under attack…it was so terrible. They killed so many."

Ser Kevan spoke. "We have heard."

She stared at him. "What have you heard?"

"Everything," Jaime told her. "How could you put Emmon in chains?"

Now her demeanor changed and she snarled at them. "He failed us! They all failed us! I had to make examples!"

"Killing your commanders is no way to make the men love you," Ser Kevan admonished her and Cersei glared at him.

"Dear Uncle, I told you once I would not be talked to in that tone by you."

Now it was Jaime's turn to grow angry. "It seems someone should be talking to you in that tone."

"I have done what was necessary!" Cersei almost shouted. "You weren't here!"

"No," Jaime told her. "We were where we were supposed to be. Fighting our enemies. Your screams for help convinced our dear uncle here and the other commanders to abandon our siege of King's Landing."

"The ironmen…" Cersei began but Jaime interrupted her.

"Are gone. As Emmon and others told you they would be by the time we returned."

She narrowed her eyes. "Who have you been talking to?"

"It matters not," said Ser Kevan.

"You will tell Tommen you will release Emmon and the admiral at once," Jaime said.

She snorted. "Or what?"

"Or I will not become Hand of the King," Jaime said.

That surprised her. He knew that was what she wanted, at least she had. Now she looked uncertain. But before she could reply the door opened and Tommen stood there. "Are we having a meeting? If not, I would like to go play. If I can." As he said this last he looked to his mother. The King needed permission from his mother to go play, Jaime thought, and he would have laughed if things weren't so serious.

Cersei was all charm again. "Sorry, my King, we are coming now."

They entered the room and here there was a long table and many chairs. Jaime seemed to recall this used to be a servant's quarters of some type, but now it would serve as a council room it seemed, perhaps because it was near the great hall. Jaime thought they might retired to his father's solar, but Cersei was trying to recreate the atmosphere of King's Landing, with the small council room close to the throne room. There were two windows looking out over the sea, and now the shutters were opened and a nice salty breeze came into the room. They sat and the Kingsguards went outside after Cersei dismissed them.

"Where is your small council, Your Grace?" Kevan asked Tommen before Cersei could say a word.

"It's just Mother and Uncle Emmon," Tommen replied. "But he was bad and now he is in prison."

Cersei smiled. "I think it is time we let him go, Your Grace. He has been punished enough. Admiral Lefford as well. His family has served the realm well and we need him to rebuild our fleet."

"Can I sign the papers now and stamp them?" Tommen asked with glee.

"Later," Cersei told him and that seemed to disappoint Tommen. Does he like signing and stamping papers? That could work to my advantage, Jaime thought.

"Tell Uncle Emmon he is not allowed to chew that red stuff around me anymore," Tommen told his mother.

"You have already commanded him to give up the sour leaf," Cersei said.

"Good," said Tommen. Then he looked at Jaime. "You wanted to speak to me, Ser Uncle? Do you have some good tales of the war?"

"Yes, Your Grace. But that can wait for a bit. I have decided I will accept the post as Hand of the King."

Tommen grinned. "That's good. Mother said only you can do this job well." Then he looked troubled. "But Uncle Emmon is Hand."

"He will resign," said Cersei quickly and Tommen seemed to accept that.

"Now, we must discuss the military situation," Ser Kevan said.

"The ironmen are bad," said Tommen, looking a little frightened. "I want them stopped."

"They are gone, Your Grace," Jaime said. "The army is here to protect you now."

"Good," said Tommen with a grin.

"We must rebuild the fleet," Ser Kevan said at once. "That is the first priority."

"It will take time," Cersei told them.

"It seems we will have time," Jaime replied. "The ironmen will not come back here. They have taken what they could from our towns and villages. And I am sure they will soon know the army is returned. The next time the pickings won't be so much or so easy. They are sailing for the Reach now, correct?"

"Yes, that is what we have heard," she told him and he saw her looking at him in a puzzled way and he knew it was the tone he was speaking to her in, formal, as if they were almost strangers. He did not intend to talk this way, it had just happened and he suddenly knew why. She had betrayed him, and it hurt, and he felt no need to show any warmth toward her at this moment.

"What of Stannis?" Cersei asked next.

"He is as worn out as us," Ser Kevan replied. "With the fall rains coming and then winter, I believe our war will be at a stalemate for some time."

"Time Stannis will use to gain support," Jaime added.

Cersei shook her head. "No one will support him. Tommen is the true King."

"He is a bad man," Tommen added.

"Yes, dear, a bad man," Cersei said, her eyes full of worry. "No one wants him for their king."

"But they will bend the knee to him," Ser Kevan warned her.

"He sits on the Iron Throne," Jaime said. "The whole realm believes that whoever sits on it is king."

She scoffed. "It is just a chair. Sitting on it gives him no right to it."

"It gave Robert the right," Jaime reminded her.

Now she glared at him. "Robert defeated the Targaryens. That gave him every right to the throne."

"And if Stannis defeats us?" Jaime asked and then she looked ready to explode and looked to Tommen with worry. She stood and opened the door. "Take the King to his quarters and let him play," she said to the guards and Tommen grinned and jumped out of his chair. Jamie and Kevan stood, and bowed to him and soon the little King was gone.

"Do not speak of such things in front of the King!" Cersei shouted at her brother once the King was gone.

"No?" Jaime asked, his anger rising as well as he remained standing and faced her. "And when should I speak of them? When the battering rams are pounding on the Lion's Mouth gate?"

"The Rock will never fall" she retorted.

Jaime laughed at her and she seethed. "Cersei, dear sister, if they are at the gates of the Rock, then the war is already lost. Our only hope was to take King's Landing and defeat Stannis' forces there. We have no friends! Everyone in the realm hates us! The Starks, the Martells, the Arryns, the Tullys, the Baratheons, the Greyjoys, and even the Tyrells have no love for us! Soon Stannis will gather a great host and march on our lands! War will come to our doors, as it has to some already in Lannisport and on the coast. They will come for our gold and for our heads. Our only chance was to defeat Stannis now!

"Then go!" she shouted back. "Go back to King's Landing and defeat him…if you can!"

"We cannot," said Ser Kevan quietly, finally speaking, and that seemed to take the steam out of Jaime and Cersei's fight. They both sat again and they were quiet for a long time.

"What are we going to do?" Cersei asked at last, like someone lost and without hope.

Jaime stared at her. He was going to use some ruse to get what he wanted, get Tommen to sign some royal decree without knowing what it was, but now he saw she was really scared and it was no trick. He looked at her. "We need Tyrion."

She stared at him and then snorted. "Never." She stood and left the room without another word.

"Perhaps Tyrion will serve us better in Harrenhal, keeping an eye on Stannis," Ser Kevan said after she was gone.

"No…the command of Harrenhal will go to the Mountain," Jaime said, now knowing what he must do. "I need Tyrion here, especially if you and I take the field again. I will convince Tommen to name him Hand once more."

"You are Hand of the King now," his uncle said after a moment. "Tommen will sign the order. He will do what you ask."

"I know," Jaime said as he stood. "Come, let us refresh ourselves first and then…then we must find a way to win this damn war."

"What can Tyrion do that we have not already?" Kevan asked. Jaime did not like the tone of his uncle's voice. He sounded as defeated as Cersei did, and that was bad.

"I know not, Uncle," Jaime said. "But I think I will take solace in the words of an old enemy of mine. Ned Stark always said winter was coming. Sooner than later I hope now. You were right a moment ago. We are all worn out. There will be no more great battles until spring. Time…that is what we need." He suddenly knew that was what Tyrion would say. "Time to gather allies, to make new alliances, to gather swords. Time to rebuild the fleet. Time to think. And time to pray to the gods for some luck for a change."

"We have certainly not had much of that of late."

"No, we haven't."

Jaime was about to leave the room when his uncle spoke once more. "You were right. I was wrong."

Jaime knew what he meant. "We will never know, Uncle. Perhaps it would have gone as you said. Perhaps the men would have broken. Perhaps the Tyrells would have caught us between them and Stannis. But it is no good to dwell on this."

Kevan grinned. "You are right. I am tired and weary of arguing. And I feel like I could soak in a bath for a hundred days. But first…my family."

They went their separate ways after leaving the room. Jaime found his old quarters in a high tower as they were when he was last here three years ago. It looked like fresh linen had been put on the bed and his clothes recently washed and made presentable for him. On his table were a flagon of wine and a flagon of ale and some fruit and bread and cheese. A hot bath had been drawn for him as well. He soaked for an hour and then dried off and put on a dressing gown. As he sat and drank some wine and nibbled on some bread and cheese, a knock came to his door and before he could rise, Cersei had entered. Unwittingly, he felt his manhood stirring.

She rushed to him as he stood and she flung herself into his arms.

"I'm sorry," she said over and over and she began to sob and he could not feel angry at her anymore. She kissed him and he returned the kiss and before he knew it she had dragged him to his bed and they made furious and passionate love as if it was their first time again, or maybe their last.

They lay in each others arms after and said nothing for a while, but then she spoke. "Jaime…why were you so mad at me earlier?"

Jaime said nothing, and then stood and put on his dressing gown. He went to the table and poured two glasses of wine for them and took them to the bed. He remained standing.

"We should not have left King's Landing," he said to her, and then he drank some wine.

"I needed you here, I wanted you here," she said, putting her glass on an end table. "That is why I wrote the letters. Besides, Kevan said you could not win. Was he right?"

Jaime shrugged. "Maybe. The used wildfire on us in the last attack. And…maybe you did not hear…but Varys left us."

"I heard," she replied. "From one of the returning supply columns."

"Kevan and the others lost heart after that. And when the men broke and ran from the wildfire it was…it was terrible. We had many killed and wounded. Kevan and the others feared they would break again in a new attack if that happened again."

"Father would never have let that concern him."

Jaime snorted. "Father is dead, Cersei. Kevan and the rest of them clung to Tommen's summons, your summons, to return home like it was saving them from a terrible dilemma."

"I am not to blame," she retorted. "The ironmen are!"

He sighed. "Forget it. We could talk on this for ages and never agree. It is time to go. We cannot have servants spreading any more gossip about us than the realm already suspects or thinks they know."

She was taken aback by his tone. "Jaime…come to bed again."

He stared at her. "No."

She stood from the bed, stepped up to him, naked, and touched his face and then he grabbed her hand roughly and that surprised her. "Tell me about Lancel," he demanded, his eyes glaring at her.

For a second her eyes widened in surprise and then she laughed. "What lies has he been telling you?"

"Not lies," Jaime replied, letting go of her hand. "Our cousin became pious as he lay recovering from his wound. He nearly died. It has given him an overwhelming desire to cleanse his soul of all his crimes before he dies for real. He claims he bedded you and he had a hand in killing Robert, on your orders."

Cersei turned from him and then swiftly put on her small clothes and her dress as he waited. "Well?" he finally said.

She turned back to him and had her stern queenly face on now, not the sweet sister's or lover's face. "Robert is dead. Why does it matter how it happened? For years you wanted to do it yourself."

"I care not for that!" Jaime seethed. Could she not see how she had betrayed him? "But…Lancel…how could you?"

She laughed at him and it cut him worse that a thousand swords could ever cut him. "How could you?" she mocked him. "Easily enough. He has a cock like all men and he had no qualms about sticking it in me. Then he was mine."

Jaime found himself breathing hard. He felt like wrapping his hands around her throat and choking the life out of her. But all he said was two words. "Get out."

She snorted. "I'll go. But tell me this, brother dearest. In all the years since we first lay together, how many others like me have there been and how many whores have you laid with?"

"None," Jaime confessed to her.

Cersei knew when he was lying to her and she knew he was not lying now and that surprised her. "None?"

"None. There was only you. I only had love for you."

Her eyes softened and she reached for his face again but again he grabbed her hand and now his voice was cold and hard and he meant to be hurtful and she knew it.

"And now I think I may grow old to regret that," Jaime said and then Cersei stared at him and almost seemed about to cry but then her face hardened and she just turned and left him alone.

After she was gone Jaime needed some fresh air and he went to his balcony and stood there and looked out at the sea where the sun was setting in all its glory. He hadn't many regrets in his life, but now he wondered if loving Cersei had been a mistake. Then again, he had no control over that. You cannot control who you love, Tyrion had told him, after that sad episode with the girl who was a whore who was not a whore. Then and there, as he thought on that, Jaime promised to himself to tell Tyrion the truth of that business, if they ever saw each other again. Tyrion would be angry, he knew, but Jaime would not go to his grave regretting not telling him that his wife was not a whore as he had thought she was.

As he stood there watching the sun set, Jaime Lannister thought on many other things, many other regrets. He thought on how he wished he had killed Stannis on the bridge, on how he wished his father hadn't died, how he wished they had not abandoned the siege, and how he wished he had never talked to Lancel that night on the road home.

Above all he wished for guidance on what to do next. In a fight, it was simple. You knew what to do, just kill the man in front of you, your enemy. But now enemies were all around him. He had neither the mind for dealing with them or the patience to think on such things. But Tyrion did. He needed Tyrion. The whole realm needed Tyrion if they did not want Stannis to be their ruler. And if Cersei did anything to stop Tyrion, Jaime now knew he did not have enough love for her anymore to stay his hand if she harmed his little brother.