cp21

Interlude: Davos Seaworth

Davos did his best to keep his attention from wandering, but it was hard. The topic may have been important, but they had been going at it for an hour. Every man was demanding his say, and that meant every conversation was taking forever.

"…And I say the question is simple enough. How are we to feed the city?" Lord Alester Florent somehow managed to look down his long nose at all those around him.

"My Lord Hand… I'm not sure we can." One of the Maester's at the table shook his head.

Technically, Pycelle was still the Grand Maester, but the King had forbidden him a presence at Council meetings. Something Davos heartily approved of, as the man had never seemed anything but a Lannister toady. Unfortunately, as a result, they had been making do with the lesser Maesters of the keep.

Davos refocused his attention yet again as the Maester continued on. "With Tully and Stark outside the walls, there are no supplies from the Crownlands. The Reach is in chaos…"

Another Maester bobbed his head in agreement. "Indeed. Maester Jessar is correct, My Lord. The city was starving before his Grace came, and many of the granaries went up in flame. As long as the siege goes on…"

Alester gave a grim head shake. "We have not the men to lift it. Truth be told we are lucky Stark and Tully are not attempting to storm us as we speak. If they knew the truth of our straits…"

Against his better judgment, Davos decided to speak up. His eyes first darted to Stannis, but the King was simply sitting, brooding and observing them all. So he turned instead to lord Alester. "My Lord Hand. The Kingswood is the answer. Give the smallfolk there leave to hunt and forage, and they would be able to sell us…"

"The Kingswood!" That was Imry Florent, their new Master of Ships, Gods help them all. "Peasants hunting in the Kingswood? Are you mad? Let that rif-raff hunt the King's beasts?"

Davos gave the lord a long look. Imry had not impressed him at the battle of Kings Landing, and nothing since then had served to change Davos' opinion. "Food is food my lord. Folk are starving, and even our soldiers are tightening their belts."

Imry waved a dismissive hand at that. "My fleet can bring in more then enough to keep the men fed."

Davos raised an eyebrow. "And the smallfolk?"

Another dismissive hand wave from Imry. "If you're that worried about them, the solution seems simple enough. Take the battle to Tully. Break the siege and open the Riverlands. They were simply lucky at the Battle of Five Armies, they won't be a second time."

One of the Maester's cleared his throat, continuing when Alester gave him a nod. "Ser Imry, I'm not at all sure your nomenclature is correct. I know the smallfolk have taken to calling the recent conflict 'The Battle of Five Armies,' but truly that's not remotely correct. Far more accurate to say 'The Battle of Three Armies.' After all, Stark and Tully were one force. As were the Lannisters and Tyrells…"

He was cut off by Maester Jessar. "No! No, no. You're both incorrect."

Davos resisted the urge to put his head in his hands. This was going to be the second time he had to listen to the Maester's arguing over this.

Jessar continued. "It is neither Five Armies, as the ignorant masses have taken to calling it, nor Three either. The Battle of FOUR Armies! One must look at the command structure… not simply count the great houses or the king they swore to! Tully and Stark were under the command of Lord Edmure. One army. Tyrell and Lannister had two independent commanders. They are two armies…"

"My Lords!" Lord Alester cut off the bickering before glancing nervously at Stannis, who was audibly grinding his teeth. "Please my lords, let us focus on the matter at hand."

When the Hand had their attention, he pressed on. "Obviously we cannot condone poaching in the Kingswood…"

"It is not poaching." Everyone fell silent as Stannis finally deigned to speak.

"Your Grace?" Alester seemed hesitant.

"It is not poaching." Stannis' voice grated out, rough as old stones. "Poaching is a crime. If we give royal assent, there is no crime."

"But your Grace, even the Targaryens…"

Stannis cut him off. "The Targaryens do not rule here. The city must be fed. I do not care from where. The Kingswood, the sea. It does not matter."

Ser Alester gave a nod, running his fingers through his beard. "Of course your Grace, but it will be difficult."

Stannis grunted. "It often is. But it is our duty."

Davos felt the King's eyes on him, and knew for a certainty they were both thinking of the siege of Storms End and the desperate straits of those years.

Maester Jessar cleared his throat. "My Lords. It may not be quite as difficult as you suspect. Between the Kingswood and Ser Imry's fleet… matters may be tight. But not impossible. So many died in the battle. Tens of thousands. Perhaps hundreds of thousands. A tragedy… but also a reality. There are far fewer bellies left to feed."

Davos felt his mouth tug down into a grim line. It was true. Half the city had burned to the ground. The bodies were stacked in small mountains at the docks and the street of steel. But the death tole was impossible to truly estimate, far too many had simply burned to ashes. Stannis ruled Kings Landing, but it was a city of ash and smoke.

Lord Alester looked particularly grim at that. "Cersei Lannister must have been mad. There is no other explanation. To scatter the Wildfire across the city like that? In the Sept of Baelor no less!"

Privately, Davos thought it was probably a hidden blessing for Stannis that the Sept and its Septon had gone up in flames. He couldn't imagine the man would have been welcoming of the Red God and his strange ways. If they were lucky, the Most Devout would take their time appointing a new High Septon. Besides, the real tragedy had been in the slums of the city. Whole districts ablaze and no way to put it out. At least the Sept had been isolated and the fire unable to spread.

Stannis' scowl deepened. "Wildfire is a sword without a hilt. And the Pyromancers all traitors as well. They served the Lannisters and Tully too? Their time has come."

Alester hesitated. "They claim ignorance of most of the Wildfire in the city… that Cersei did not…"

"These Alchemists are fools." An uncomfortable silence settled across the room as the Red Priestess spoke up for the first time. "Playing with forces they understand not."

"They are traitors." Stannis voice was final. "Ignorance does not forgive their crimes. No more than it did under Aerys. If Robert had listened to me, they would have been dealt with years ago; root and branch. No more. I want them dealt with."

"Yes your grace." Alester clearly had no intention of defending the Pyromancers any further. Davos couldn't bring himself to care either. The world was well rid of the Alchemists and their piss.

There was an uncomfortable silence after that, until Stannis finally turned his eyes back to the Hand. "And what word of the bastard? Tommen Waters?"

Lord Alester hesitated, clearly not having any good news. "No word your Grace. He was not with Cersei and his siblings when…" The man trailed off uncomfortably, hands making a vague gesture.

Stannis did not like that answer. "And do you know yet what happened in that throne room? To Cersei and her bastards?"

Alester looked even more uncomfortable at that. "No Your Grace."

Stannis frowned. "It has been days. These are answers we need. You are the Hand."

Alester did his best to straighten his back. "Your Grace. I'm Hand, but not your Master of Whispers. With Varys and Littlefinger vanished, the city half burned, Tully outside our walls… there has not been time…"

"Send for girl." Melisandre's deep voice cut through the room a second time. "The wolf girl. She was there, was she not?"

All eyes turned to Alester. "Ahh. Yes. Of course." The man quickly gestured to a guard waiting nearby.

Stannis did not look pleased. "All this time, and you have not thought to question Sansa Stark? Or the other wittinesses present?"

"Your Grace! Our priority has been…" Alester trailed off, as Stannis turned from him in clear dismissal.

It was only a few minutes before the guard returned with Lady Sansa. Davos observed her carefully; it was the first time he had seen the Stark girl. She was pretty enough he supposed, but there was a sad and vulnerable quality to her as well. He did not imagine it had been easy, being a Stark in a Lannister city.

Stannis eyes settled on the girl immediately. "Lady Sansa."

"Your Grace." The girl gave a perfect curtsy.

"You have been treated well?" The courtesy sat awkwardly on Stannis tongue, but the girl gave no sign of noticing.

"Yes your Grace. Thank you, your Grace. I know I'm just a traitor but…"

Stannis cut her off. "How are you a traitor? Do you deny me as the rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms?"

The girl seemed taken aback at that. "No. Of course not, your Grace. You are the rightful King. My brother and my Father are traitors. The Traitor's blood runs in…"

Stannis cut her off again. "Your father was no friend of mine, but only a fool would call Eddard Stark a traitor. Your brother now, he is a traitor. And will be dealt with in time. Your uncle Edmure as well. But as long as you acknowledge me as your king, that would not make you a traitor."

The girl seemed unsure of what to say to that. "Th..thank you your Grace."

He grunted. "Thanks are empty word. Duty and fealty are what matters. If your brother had done his duty, this war would be ended already. And your uncle has done far worse. He has taken arms against his King, and slaughtered my men before these very walls."

Sansa hesitated. "Your Grace. I'm sure Robb meant well. Uncle Edmure as well. Things have been so confusing. Perhaps…"

Stannis stopped her with a raised hand. "Your brother and uncle are in arms against their rightful King. There is no forgiveness for that."

"Stannis, King!" That bellowing was Roland Storm, but a low rumble of agreement echoed his declaration.

Sansa seemed uncertain of how to respond, settling finally for another curtsy. "Yes, your grace. My brother is a traitor. My Uncle too."

Davos frowned at that. Her easy words rang false, but were spoken with a practiced ease. Likely words she had been forced to parrot regularly under the Lannisters. The lies made him wary of trusting her, but also gave him a flash of sympathy for what she likely had gone through.

Stannis simply leaned forwards. "Good. But that is not why we called you here. You were present in the Throne Room during the battle? With Cersei Lannister? And the bastards Joffrey and Myrcella Waters? We need to know what happened, how they died."

The girl hesitated, and Stannis' eyes narrowed. Davos knew the King had no patience for hesitation.

Finally, the girl spoke in a halting and uncertain voice. "The queen… she had Ser Ilyn Payne with her. She said.." The girl hesitated again, until Stannis gestured impatiently for her to go on. "She said she had no intention of letting you judge her. That Ser Ilyn was there for us. And that House Stark would have no joy from your victory…"

An uncomfortable hush fell as those words and their impact sunk in.

"You're saying…" Alester Florent finally spoke up, "You are saying Cersei lilled herself? And her children?"

Sansa nodded.

Lord Florent's features twisted in disgust. "Truly the Lannisters are depraved. To kill her own children? Traitors yes, but children? Honorless."

Sansa's face took on a sudden fierce cast. "Joffrey deserved it. He was no child."

Davos gave a shake of his head. "Joffrey perhaps. And the queen. But Myrcella was just a child…"

"An abomination born of incest…" That was Axel Florent, speaking up for the first time.

Something about Sansa's story still struck Davos as odd. "Lady Sansa…" he paused and hesitated.

"Speak, Ser Davos." That was Stannis, commanding as always.

Davos cleared his throat, buying a few seconds to order his thoughts. "You claimed that Cersei Lannister said House Stark would have no joy from our victory? She meant for you to die with her?"

Stannis clearly saw what he was driving at and leaned forwards. "How is it you escaped?"

Sansa looked even more uncomfortable. "It was Lord Petyr."

Davos felt his eyebrows rise. "Littlefinger?" Baelish had vanished from the city same as Varys. Half the Small Council simply gone. His whereabouts had been one of many mysteries left for Stannis to unravel.

The girl nodded. "He took me away from the Queen. He wanted me to go with him. But I thought my Uncle… I mean… that is…"

She trailed off, but Davos could fill in the blanks well enough. She hadn't gone with Littlefinger, no doubt in hopes that her uncle would soon be storming the city and rescuing her.

Alester jumped in at that. "And did Littlefinger say where he was going? Or why?"

Sansa shook her head.

"Another traitor." Stannis clearly had no patience for talk of Littlefinger. "Like as not he fled so as to avoid answering for his crimes. It is Tommen Waters who concerns me."

Davos didn't like the sound of that. "Just a boy, your Grace."

Stannis turned cold eyes to him. "That will depend. With his brother and sister dead, does he seek to push his false claim?"

Alester nodded firmly. "We cannot afford to give the Lannisters or Tyrells a banner to rally about. Girl…" he turned back to Sansa. "What of Tommen Waters?"

Sansa looked unsure. "I… I don't know my lords. I had not seen him at court for several days. He was not with Cersei… perhaps…"

Alester shook his head, silencing her. "Clearly they sent him away. But where?"

Ser Imry took that as an opportunity to interject. "Give me leave your Grace, and my men will hunt the boy down!"

Davos thought that unlikely, and was about to say as much when the doors banged open with a clang.

Around him, the men tensed, Roland Storm going so far as to grip his sword, but it was just a messenger. An out of breath gasping messenger.

"Your Grace!" The man gasped out. "Your Grace."

Stannis leaned forward, eyes narrowed. "Speak."

The messenger took another great gulping breath. "I'm sorry, your Grace. Lord Cole sent me from the walls. Said you must know as soon as possible…"

Davos tensed at that. "An attack?"

Lord Alester clearly had the same thought. "I had not thought Tully would move so soon…"

The messenger eased their panic by grinning wildly and shaking his head. "No! My lords, not an attack! They are retreating!"

Davos heard a distinct gasp from Lady Sansa. "No! They wouldn't…"

The messenger sent her a confused look, no doubt wondering who she was, but answered anyway. "'Tis true my lady. A full retreat. They're burning the siege equipment and moving westwards…"

Sansa Stark paled at that, hand at her throat, and Davos felt a distinct pang of sympathy. Her mouth moved as though to say something else, but it went unheard at the cacophony of noise and even cheers breaking out across the room.

"Your Grace…" Davos caught his king's attention, gesturing to the Stark Girl who still stood, pale and silent, in the middle of the room. No doubt this had to be a blow to her.

The King grimaced, never much of one for courtesies, and gestured for the poor girl to be led away.

The others barely noticed, the excitement at the council was palpable.

"Tully knew he could not stand before us! He knew!" Ser Imry was pounding his fist on the table. "Give me leave your Grace, and I will give them chase! Put them to the sword and finish this war!"

Ser Alester was more wary than his nephew. "Caution would be wise. Tully outnumbers us still, and we do not know why he is retreating…"

"He fears our steel!" Imry blared out. "Give me leave to teach him fear!"

Roland Storm had his eyes narrowed in thought though. "A trap perhaps? The man is as much a snake as he is a fish."

Imry sneered at Roland. "And what would a bastard know of tactics?"

Davos knew the Florents had become hostile to Roland as more and more acclaim from the Battle of Five Armies was heaped on his head, but that comment was going shockingly far.

Alester Florent gave an equally dismissive wave at Roland. "I doubt any trap would involve them burning their own siege material. Not…" a quelling look at his nephew… "that we should go charging after them. Like as not something happened we don't know of. Perhaps a setback for Stark in the West?"

"Enough!" Stannis voice echoed through the room, bringing silence. "Enough!" When he had their attention the King slowly got to his feet. "Enough of this chattering. My Lord…" He turned to Alester. "You are the Hand. Advise."

The lord looked somewhat taken aback at the blunt demand, but rallied quickly. "Your Grace. It is an opportunity. We need to find out why… and take advantage of it. We can bring in supplies from the Crownlords if they have any left... Raise more men… perhaps…"

Stannis cut him off. "Yes. You are correct. Roland Storm?"

The young knight straightened in his chair. "Your Grace?"

"My hand is correct. We need more men. We cannot hope to challenge Tully as is. Let alone the other usurpers. You are to go to the Marches. Those lords have bent the knee to me. Now they will give me their swords."

Roland gave a short bow, but Imry spoke up at that. "Your Grace! You can't send a bastard to treat with lords!"

Stannis just looked at him with cold blue eyes, the silence stretching until Imry reluctantly subsided.

Alester cleared his throat. "Your Grace." He waited for Stannis to look towards him before continuing. "We do need more men. But the Marcher lords have been hesitant to commit with so many Dornish forces gathering on their borders. Perhaps if we could convince Dorne to…"

Stannis growled. "We will not sit on our hands waiting for Doran Martell to make up his mind."

Old Lord Estermont spoke up for the first time, a livered spotted hand rubbing his chin. "Doran has always been the cautious sort…"

Stannis gave a firm nod. "Martell will bend or he will be broken."

Davos grimaced. He wasn't one to put much stock in house words, but that seemed an ill-omened statement to make.

Alester seemed to be coming around though. "Your Grace may be right. And I understand Ser Roland is from the Marches, and has won himself something of a reputation but still, he is…" Alester trailed off, but the word 'bastard' hung unspoken in the air.

Stannis seemed indifferent, turning back to the young knight. "You will go. My lords will keep their oaths and give you the men I require. Or you will burn them as the traitors they are."

Roland got to his feet stiffly, injuries clearly still bothering him. "Your Grace. It shall be done." The man gave a short bow, before turning smartly on his heels marching towards the door.

Stannis did not smile, but Davos could see he looked pleased none the less. Quite competence was what the King valued more than anything.

The king then turned towards his uncle. "Lord Estermont?"

The old lord straightened under the attention. "Your Grace?"

"I also have need of your nephew, Andrew. He is to be Castellan of Storm's End."

Davos blinked at that. He liked Ser Andrew, a good man but… "What of Ser Cortnay Penrose? Is he not Castellan?"

The King grimaced. "Ser Cortnay bent the knee, but he was always Renly's man not my own. I cannot trust him with Storm's End."

Estermont gave a wide grin at that, showing his browning teeth. "You can trust young Andrew, your Grace. A fine lad."

Davos might have argued further, it seemed a poor repayment for Ser Cortnay for him to be shunted aside like that, but Lord Alester spoke first. "Another possibility your Grace. If Tully is truly in retreat, we might have an opportunity to appeal to the Crownlands."

Old Estermont seemed skeptical of that. "Those lords have never loved House Baratheon…"

Alester tilted his head. "Perhaps. But I suspect after recent events their dislike of House Tully may outweigh any hesitation. And with his Grace in uncontested possession of the capital…"

Stannis gave a firm nod, signaling his agreement. "They will be given the chance to swear to the Iron Throne."

That seemed to open the floodgates, as the various lords began to offer their own plans and ideas to take advantage of the Tully withdrawal. But as the good humor of the lords at the council seemed to rise, Davos could see Stannis becoming increasingly impatient.

"My Lords." Davos distinctly saw Alester glance at the King, no doubt registering his impatience. "My lords, I know we all have much work to do. It is best we about it."

It was a clear dismissal, and the other Lords and Knights began to stir and make their exits.

"Ser Davos." His king's words cut across the shuffling of the councilors around them. "You will bide."

Davos sat himself back in his chair, waiting as the others slowly trailed out. Soon it was just him and Lord Alester with the King. And the Red Woman, lurking behind his king as always.

Lord Alester finally cleared his throat. "Your Grace, these are matters best dealt with in private…"

Stannis was stone faced. "Ser Davos has always given me wise counsel. I would hear his thoughts."

Davos took a long moment to consider this. "Raising more men is wise, your Grace. But it seems to me we could do with more allies. The Great Lords will not swear to Stark or Greyjoy. With Joffrey's death we have an opportunity. We hold Sansa Stark still, she could perhaps be used to forge a peace…"

Alester snorted. "Robb Stark is no fool, nor Edmure Tully either. If the Stark girl was that important to them, then why pull their army back? Let us not fool ourselves, if they truly wished Stark and Tully could have been in this city within weeks. They had us in the palm of their hands. I don't know why they threw it away, but I doubt the girl means much to them."

"Sansa Stark has other uses…" The Red woman's voice was deep and ominous.

Davos squinted suspiciously at her. He did not trust the woman, and he did not trust her cryptic words. "Other uses?"

Melisandre turned towards Stannis as she answered. "King's blood. It flows in her veins. There is power in such a sacrifice."

Sacrifice? Davos could guess all too well what she meant. "She is an innocent girl."

Melisandre settled her eyes on Davos, and they seemed to him almost to burn with intensity. "Innocent? There is treason in her heart. But more, she could be the key to victory."

Alester Florent shifted uncomfortably at that. "I'm not sure…" the man trailed off. He had proclaimed for the Red God, but Davos had always thought his faith little more than skin deep.

The Red woman's smile turned sickly sweet. "Then it is good that *I* am sure. Have faith Lord Alester. Have faith."

Davos interjected at that, trying for reason. "How can she have King's blood? Her brother is no true king. Nor was her father."

The priestess shook her head at that. "Her line is ancient is it not? Her lineage royal? Old Blood. There is power in it. I feel it burning in her veins."

She turned back to the king. "Give me the girl, and I could give you victory…"

Grimly, Davos decided to interject. "Your Grace. This is an evil thought."

Stannis seemed to hesitate, and the Red woman interjected into that pause. "What is one girl for a kingdom?"

"Everything." Davos weighted his words with as much weight as he could. "She is an innocent girl. You said it yourself your grace, her brother may be a traitor but she is not."

"Besides…" Davos switched tactics. "It is swords that will win this, not sorcery. It was not sorcery that gave you capital. Better to use the girl to forge a peace with her uncle, since Tully has not bent the knee to Robb Stark…"

"Tully can not be forgiven." Stannis' words were final. "He burned any chance of forgiveness when he slaughtered us before the walls of Kings Landing."

Davos grimaced, but did not argue. He was mostly glad to see the argument shift away from Sansa Stark. "Dorne then. Or the Eyrie. Both have stayed out of the war."

Alester seemed intrigued by that. "Your Grace, Lord Arryn is of an age with your own daughter…"

Stannis narrowed his eyes. "I will not sell my daughter to the highest bidder. Arryn would do well to remember his duty."

Davos pressed. "Lord Arryn is a boy. He will do as his mother commands. I do not say you should beg, your Grace. But even the Targaryens used marriage to unite the realm."

His king seemed to hesitate. "I shall… think on it."

Davos knew better than to press his luck, and left it at that, changing tactics instead. "There is also an opportunity with the Tyrells."

Besides him, Davos saw Alester tense up, but Davos pushed on. "The Tyrells received naught but blood and ashes from their alliance with the Lannisters. There is an opportunity here. If we offer terms, Willas Tyrell might very well bend the knee."

Florent was shaking his head. "You do not know what you talk of onion knight. Tommen Waters is missing? No doubt he is halfway to Highgarden."

Davos didn't let his frustration show on his face. "And if he is? Mace Tyrell is dead, and the alliance with the Lannisters likely finished."

"The Tyrells have refused my clemency." Stannis voice was grim.

"Your Grace?"

"I offered Willas Tyrell the chance to bend his knee and keep his castle. The Tyrells are twice traitors. First to my brother and then to the Lannister bastard, but still I offered him clemency. He has refused."

Lord Alester nodded his head at that. "Your Grace was more than merciful. The Tyrells have always been honorless upstarts, stewards and not true lord paramounts."

Davos narrowed his eyes, reading between the lines. "You offered to let them keep their castle… but not the Lord Paramouncy?"

The king grit his teeth. "That was promised to another."

No need to ask whom, with Alester Florent preening to his left.

To argue otherwise would, like as not, make an enemy of the Florents. But Davos' duty was to the king lot Lord Alester. Grimly, he pressed on. "I feat that might be a mistake, your Grace."

Florent's eyes widened in outrage. "A mistake? To trust us over those upstart traitors? You dare say that… you a…"

The king cut him off with a sharp hand gesture. "I would hear Ser Davos."

The Onion Knight cleared his throat. "Why offer terms we know they could not accept? Wilas Tyrell might well bend the knee if you let him keep their titles. Yes, the Tyrell's were traitors your Grace. But then, I seem to recall house Florent swore to Renly as well."

Alester spluttered at that, but Stannis let out an amused huff.

Encouraged, Davos pressed on. "You forgave the Florents. You would be wise to forgive the Tyrells too. You mean to march on Tully?"

Stannis gave a shallow nod. "I do. Tully is the key. Bring him to heel, and the other lords will follow."

Davos nodded back. "And to do that you'll need swords. We took too many losses at the city. Many at Tyrell hands, I know. But it is still a reality. With the Starks at his back, Edmure Tully has nearly 50,000 swords. If you mean to meet him on the open field, you need men. More than the March or the Crownlands can give."

"Ser Onion Knight." Melisandre's voice cut across his words, drawing all attention. "He does not have the Starks at his back."

Davos narrowed his eyes. "What does that mean?"

Melisandre let a small smile cross her face. "Edmure Tully has lost the Starks. I have seen it in the flames."

Davos shifted uncomfortably at that, but pressed on never the less. "Even if that were true… we still need more men."

Stannis gave a slow shake of his head. "We will not get those men from the Reach. Even if I were to bend and beg, Tyrell strength died on the Blackwater. Died to wildfire and Tully lances. They could not give me the men I need, even if they willed it. And so why should I reward their house? Twice-traitors that they are? When I offered them their castle and lands, more than they deserved, they spat in my face."

Still he hesitated. "They took losses yes. But…"

Stannis cut him off, pushing a long piece of parchment across the table. "It is time to try something different. Read."

Davos grimaced. "Your Grace, I lack my letters…"

The king scowled, but it was Lord Alester that spoke. "It is a proclamation from His Grace. It is to go out to every house in the south. It strips House Tyrell of all its lands and titles, and proclaims House Florent as the new Lords Paramount."

Davos had expected that of course. "Words on paper, even with so many of their lords dead…"

Alester Florent cut him off. "That is not all. It declares House Tyrell traitors. And it declares any lords remaining loyal to house Tyrell traitors. All their keeps and castles forfeit. Any loyal lord or knight willing to swear to King Stannis and House Florent is called upon to punish these traitors and seize their lands."

Davos narrowed his eyes. "Their lands forfeit?"

Alester smiled grimly. "And then we shall see who stays loyal to House Tyrell. Tarly is dead. Lady Oakheart as well. Lord Rowan. Garlan Tyrell. Too many others to count. All of House Tyrell's staunchest allies."

Still, Davos hesitated. "But such a broad proclamation? Every lord with a grudge or a claim will declare their neighbor a traitor whether it is true or not. If the Tyrells are truly in such disarray this won't win the Reach for us, it will just make them bleed red instead…"

Lord Alester looked a little uncomfortable at that, but pressed on all the same. "There will be much blood shed, yes. But we can aid those who are loyal. With the Tully's and Lannisters as enemies, we don't have the luxury of dealing with the Reach just yet. This way, we can deal with more pressing enemies first. If the Starks truly are retreating that is a victory, but House Tully remains the largest threat to us south of the Neck."

Lady Melisandre's eyes seemed to almost glow at that. "Edmure Tully is the true threat. He is an enemy of the King, and thus a servant of the Great Other."

Stannis grimaced at that, but did not contradict it. "If the Reach Lords turn on each other, they are not turning on us. Let them bleed and burn. It is Lord Tully whom we must concern ourselves with. Bring him to heel, and the other traitors will bend the knee."

A/N: Well there we go! Hope that Interlude was interesting and not too info-dumpy. The whole thing about the name of the battle is a shout-out to all my readers who have been having this *exact* same argument. It amused me. As to the Red Woman and Sansa. The Kings blood thing always somewhat intrigued me. Obviously Martin is always purposely coy with his magic system. How much is the Kings Blood thing actually real? How much is just superstition? How literal is it? I doubt it can be *completely* literal kings blood, otherwise for example half the reach would be a worthy sacrifice as they are all descended from Garth.

It makes me suspect, as much as the Kings Blood thing is real magic, that it is more of a sort of 'power is invested by belief' sort of thing. It is not the literal king's blood, but perhaps the power infused by all the belief in a king? Which if true means Robb's sister would have 'power' in this model (and Renly would have before he was killed) but say some random Karstark would not. No idea if that's true but just how I interpreted things. Or we could just chalk it up to Melisandre being loco. Anyway the next few chapters will be focused back on Edmure.