Chapter 337: Larys Ambushed

The unexpected death of Edmure, one of the candidates for the succession of Riverrun, caused quite a stir.

Both Rhaegar and Otto moved swiftly to maintain order. The Unsullied soldiers quickly took control of the situation, while the maester examined the body to determine the cause of death.

The result was conclusive: Edmure had been poisoned with a lethal toxin that acted instantly. The poison had come from the dagger he used when attacking his nephew, Elmo.

Setting aside the intricate details and motivations, the incident was officially declared a case of civil unrest within the Tully House, with Edmure held responsible for his own demise.

Opinions were sharply divided, but many nobles seemed content to watch the drama unfold.

With the situation under control, the tournament continued.

...

Harrenhal, Sanctuary.

Edmure's body lay in the hall, carefully handled by two Silent Sisters. Old Tully stood nearby, his clouded eyes flashing with sadness and numbness. He had hoped to prevent his heirs from killing each other, but fate had other plans.

In the background, Viserys, Rhaegar, and several other prominent figures had gathered. Alicent and Rhaenys were absent, choosing to remain in the tourney arena.

Rhaegar stood quietly, his mind replaying the events that led to Edmure's death. Another poisoning, carried out in a disturbingly familiar manner.

"Prince," Tormund called softly as he approached.

"Have you found the true culprit?" Rhaegar asked bluntly.

Tormund nodded. "Lord Tully's second son, Milov. He didn't take part in the Group Tournament, but he gave a dagger to his follower and had him support Edmure, hoping to profit from the chaos."

Rhaegar's gaze shifted to Milov, who was whispering to two priests in the Sanctuary. After a moment's thought, Rhaegar felt that the situation was more complex.

Old Tully was mediocre and incompetent, and his heirs were hardly capable of such a cunning plot.

"Any news from King's Landing?" Rhaegar asked, glancing sideways at Tormund.

Tormund shook his head. "The raven is on its way; it's being investigated."

Rhaegar's eyes narrowed. "Search Harrenhal thoroughly. Don't leave a single rat hole unchecked."

Tormund was taken aback for a moment, but then understood Rhaegar's suspicion. Edmure's death bore the mark of Larys' handiwork, leading Rhaegar to suspect that Larys might be hiding in Harrenhal, taking advantage of the chaos of the tournament.

"I'll have the message delivered before dark," Tormund assured, then exited the sanctuary.

Suddenly, an angry cry echoed through the sanctuary. "Get out! Get out of here at once!" It was Old Tully, pointing a shaking finger at Milov and the two priests behind him. Milov, cursed and humiliated, retreated into the crowd, while the priests, faces pale, retreated in embarrassment.

Rhaegar stepped forward.

"What are you doing?" Rhaenyra asked quietly, tugging at his cloak.

"Checking on Old Tully," Rhaegar replied, moving through the crowd.

Most of the people were there out of respect for the Lord of Riverrun. Old Tully, exhausted and distraught, slumped to the ground.

Rhaegar approached, crouched down, and said quietly, "Old Tully, you must know who the murderer is."

Old Tully's head hung, overwhelmed with grief.

Rhaegar squeezed his shoulder and gave Milov a meaningful look. "This situation has outside interference. If you can't handle it, I'll handle it for you."

Milov huddled next to Aegon, trembling and unable to meet anyone's eyes. Behind them stood Ormund Hightower, watching with a playful expression.

Old Tully's eyes flickered between his second son, Milov, and the priests. Finally he spoke in a hard voice, "Prince, the payment I promised you remains unchanged."

The priests had just approached Old Tully and suggested that Milov inherit Riverrun City. They cited Edmure as an example, claiming that his fate was a result of his fearlessness in battle.

It was clear that the plan to kill Edmure and his potential heirs was Milov's idea.

Seeing that Old Tully was still coherent, Rhaegar patted his shoulder in silent comfort. Milov's involvement in Larys's murder was just another piece of the puzzle.

...

Not long after, the congregation left the sanctuary.

Most returned to the Kingspyre Tower to rest, while others wandered the gardens.

Rhaegar walked in silence, pondering which dragon had rescued Larys. His first suspicion fell on Daemon. Larys had been tortured for information during his imprisonment in the King's Landing dungeon. The murder of Borros seemed aimed at pulling Daemon into the fold. Given Daemon's chaotic nature, it was likely he had orchestrated Larys's escape.

With this in mind, Rhaegar approached the disinterested Daemon and said directly, "Uncle, Larys is missing."

Their relationship was too complex for subtleties; straightforwardness was best.

Daemon turned, his eyes first surprised, then contemptuous, proving his innocence with his expression. Had he been guilty, he would have displayed smugness.

Unable to stand Daemon's blank stare, Rhaegar nodded apologetically and prepared to move away.

"Wait," Daemon spoke faintly.

Rhaegar took a deep breath, summoning his patience.

Daemon looked him up and down and sneered, "Let me tell you something  it was a thief."

Rhaegar was stunned for a moment. He glanced through the crowd, noting the different expressions on their faces.

"A thief..." Rhaegar murmured, beginning to see something.

Aegon was being pestered by Milov. Ormund Hightower was traveling with them, seemingly discussing something. Helaena hung behind her father, her head drooping distractedly. Aemond, who had fallen behind the group, was flashing his face at Cassandra, making his fiancée tremble with anger.

None of his younger siblings seemed normal.

Moments later, the arrogant Jason Lannister approached Aegon, accompanied by the bastard Bronn Storm. Rhaegar's eyes narrowed.

He called, "Aegon, come here."

It was clear that Ormund had meddled with the Tullys, and Jason had the Baratheons in mind. Both were flirting with Aegon, trying to draw him into their plans.

At Rhaegar's call, Ormund and Jason glanced over and then quickly looked away. Aegon sulked, glanced at Milov in disgust, and reluctantly walked over to his older brother. He hated the Tully more than Rhaegar at that moment.

Facing each other, Aegon muttered, "Milov turned to the Faith of the Seven for help, and the Faith has ties to Ormund Hightower. That's all I know."

Rhaegar laughed, gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder, and said, "Not a bad idea to stay away from them."

Aegon's hint helped Rhaegar piece things together. Ormund Hightower was likely behind the plot, and had joined forces with the Faith of the Seven and Milov to kill Edmure and Elmo. Elmo had survived and was now trying to gain more support by bringing Aegon into their fold.

Rhaegar's eyes shifted to Jason and the bastard Bronn. Jason was a self-righteous schemer; perhaps he too was trying to draw Aegon in.

...

As the night wore on, the sky grew cooler as dark clouds gathered, bringing a torrential downpour.

Inside the Kingspire Tower, in the Hall of a Hundred Hearths, the nobles gathered as usual for a festive dinner. The brutality of the tourney was of no concern to them; they only cared about the intensity of the fighting and the spectacle of bloodshed.

Outside, the rain poured relentlessly, turning the night into a scene of near-total darkness. Lightning flashed, illuminating the legions of Fearless soldiers surrounding Harrenhal Castle for a brief moment.

A bridge connected the Kingspyre Tower to the Widow's Tower, where hundreds of black-armored Unsullied stood guard, undeterred by the rain.

Crunch-

The door of the Kingspyre Tower opened, and a black-robed figure stepped out, bracing against the wind and rain.

"Prince!" Gray Worm stepped out of the queue, speaking in a deep voice.

The black-robed figure turned slightly, revealing Rhaegar's grim face under the hood.

Together, master and servant crossed the bridge, their figures soon swallowed by the entrance to the Widow's Tower.

Crackle!

Another bolt of lightning struck, making Harrenhal's eerie darkness even more foreboding. The storm's low-pressure atmosphere hinted at brewing chaos.

Rhaegar descended the spiral staircase of the Widow's Tower. The dim corridor was lit by flickering candles, swaying in the occasional draft.

After a short descent, they reached the depths of the Widow's Tower. Initially built as a dungeon by the sinister Harren the Black, the underground structure held many secrets.

Rhaegar searched around the dungeon until he found a hidden mechanism on an old wall.

Click.

The mechanism moved, and the wall slowly turned, revealing a deep tunnel.

"Follow me, open the way ahead," Rhaegar commanded.

Gray Worm led the way, followed by two Unsullied. Rhaegar carried a torch, his eyes cold and focused.

The tunnel twisted and turned, leading to an old, weathered wooden door at the end.

Bang...

Gray Worm kicked the door open powerfully.

Escorted by the Unsullied, Rhaegar stepped forward.

Before them lay a small, dimly lit room. The layout was modest, with tables, chairs, and benches, and walls adorned with carvings and frescoes. A faint smell of mold lingered in the air.

Inside, an old acquaintance revealed himself: Larys, with curly brown hair, dressed in a dark green tunic. His usual sophistication was gone, replaced by a bearded face and forlorn eyes. His left pant leg hung limply.

Larys sat on a chair, carving a scepter with a knife. Wood shavings covered the tabletop.

Surprised by the sudden intrusion, Larys turned, his gray-blue eyes flickering.

Swish-

Rhaegar unsheathed Truefyre, the pitch-black sword reflecting an ebony light. He gazed icily at Larys, his expression unyielding.

"Larys, we meet again," Rhaegar said, his voice cold.

(Word count: 1,574)