20 Chapter 20

Chapter 20

As the King and his brother focused on the war waged against them by the Balckfyre pretenders, a different and more sinister plan was being hatched against them and the whole Royal family in their own Kingdom.

With the King busy preparing to lead the final charge against the conspirators abroad, someone else was giving the final touches to their plans.

'The False Preacher' was one of the more intriguing and troublesome enemies faced by the Targaryen regime after the death of King Aerys. King Aerys had always been a man of science and could be considered to be a godless man despite his various charitable ventures. The King never made any major contributions to the septs, choosing to do charity through orders and organizations he established himself. It was a stark departure from the usual methodology of Kings who would give a fortune to the Sept and clergy.

Petyr Baelish, a man who was a minor noble from Vale who became Houster Tully's page for a number of years, was one cunning man. The man was said to be besotted with the daughter of the Lord of Riverrun, Catelyn Tully, who was said to be one of the finest maidens of the realm. Yet the infatuation was one-sided, and when the Royal Family allowed for a match between her and Lord Brynden Stark, the man sought retribution.

He would become the instigator of religious riots against the Royal family, calling them heathens and godless men. His rebellion would be put down easily, yet its effects would loom large tears later in the Religious uprising of 380 AC.

0000

RHAEGAR TARGARYEN

Rhaegar sat in his solar with his brother as they confirmed their plan of action. The war had now entered its final bouts, and it was time for them to land a decisive blow against their enemies.

The strike from Brynden Tully's Black Knights had been successful in forcing the Blackfyres to evacuate from Lys to Tyrosh, and by now, the Tyrell army under the leadership of Lord Tarly and Lord Redwyne was surrounding the city of Tyrosh to land their final blow.

Though the same could not be said of their campaign in Stepstones which was proving to be a challenging battlefield. And that was where Rhaegar planned to strike next.

"So, it's decided then, you will lead the army against the Golden Company in the Stepstones providing support to Robert," confirmed his younger brother and Rhaegar nodded.

"Indeed, we need to drive them back and then push forward from the Stepstones completely encircling them in Tyrosh," concluded Rhaegar as he set the dragon pieces on the board such that they surrounded Tyrosh.

"What about Myr?" questioned Aemon. And Rhaegar shook his head.

"Myr is a no-go for them. We have neutralized the city, the minute the Blakfyres or their allies set foot in the city they will be killed," and it was all thanks to Dorne and Lord Manderly who had developed deep connections in the city of Myr. Qyburn and his men had been stationed there and ordered to assassinate any Blackfyre ally that tried to escape to the city, as for those who had shown him support earlier. All of them had been managed.

Aemon once more scanned the map in front of him with a critical gaze trying to find any flaw in their strategy, yet he found none. So, in the end, he just sighed and nodded.

"Well, the plan seems reasonable, but are you sure you want to lead the armies again? I could take your place and you could stay here in the capital," Aemon offered. And with the birth of his son, a part of him was quite tempted to take the offer. He was acutely aware of his brother's leadership abilities and knew that he could lead an army as well as.

Yet it was his duty, not his brothers. Plus, in this way, Aemon might be able to spend more time with a certain Stark lady. Even now, the capital was filled with rumors about their scandalous romance, and Rhaegar had talked with Eddard and had sent a letter to Brandon Stark surveying the possibility of a probable match between Aemon and Lyanna.

The response was yet to come, but Rhaegar imagined it would be anything but positive. After all, which house would turn down a Royal match, especially one to a prince who was set to inherit a whole city?

"No, this is my job. You should stay in the capital and handle things here," Rhaegar added, and Aemon nodded. They both sat down as Aemon reached for a missive placed on the desk, this had been handed to them by Qyburn earlier.

"Did you see this?" questioned Aemon as he passed the missive to him. Rhaegar took it and skimmed through it and nodded.

"I have, it's about that rogue Septon, causing trouble in the Riverlands," Rhaegar summarized, and Aemon nodded a frown appearing on his face. Qyburn was the unofficial Master of Whispers to the crown and gave his reports directly to them.

This rogue septon had been on his radar for quite some time, the man portrayed himself as a simple septon and tried to show himself as a man of religion. Yet one look at his so-called sermons told of a much sinister and complicated plot. A plot to reestablish the banned faith militants. Something they could never let happen.

"Have you contacted the High Septon about this?" questioned Rhaegar and Aemon nodded.

"I have and the man denies any connection to this man, though one of the Septon did mention that this so-called Sparrow who is often seen with this rogue Septon was once a resident of Kingslanding," and Rhaegar frowned at that.

"So, what do we do?" Rhaegar questioned. It was a matter relating to religion that meant it needed to be handled appropriately, for they could not have a religious crusade at this time.

"Qyburn is trying to find out more about this so-called 'Preacher' yet there is no doubt in my mind that this Sparrow character is a zealot and that makes things troublesome," concluded Aemon as he leaned back into his seat.

"We could kill them," Rhaegar proposed and Aemon shook his head.

"They have support from the people and if we move in with the army to kill them it would make a scene, if either of them succeeds in escaping it could backfire on us," argued Aemon and he was right.

"We need to shift the focus away from the religion, to something that makes the people turn against them," muttered Aemon, and Rhaegar smiled as he saw the wheels turning in his brother's mind scheming away.

Well, it was his hassle.

"Well, then I will leave it to you, the armies are already ready, and I plan to leave in the next two days, but before I depart, I have something for you," Rhaegar informed him, and Aemon perked up at that.

House Targaryen had come into quite a fortune in the last year. From a house without a single Valyrian steel blade to one with two blades and then some Valyrian steel to spare.

The metal Aemon had brought back from his journey had been enough to produce a blade, a short one that he planned to give to his dear sister, yet that still left him with Red Rain.

He reached for the blade he had gotten back from the smith, Tobho Mott was the finest smith in the realm and one of the few who possessed the knowledge to rework Valyrian steel.

Rhaeagar brought out the blade and placed it on the table, and saw Aemon's eyes widen.

"With the return of Blackfyre, I already have a Valyrian Steel sword for myself, and with the metal you brought back, I am having one worked for Daenys. This, however, is for you," Rhaegar said as he unsheathed the blade. Its pommel had been reworked and was shaped like a dragon now, with a red shining emerald decorating the pommel. The hue of the emerald matched the red hue of the blade itself and he saw his brother's eyes gleam over the blade in fascination as Rhaegar held it out for him.

"Red Rain?" his brother questioned, and Rhaegar nodded.

"Indeed, but it has been reworked, and I had hoped you would consider my suggestion for its new name," Rhaegar remarked and Aemon looked up at him with a questioning gaze, gesturing for him to continue.

"Winters bane, I had hoped you would call it that," Rhaegar spoke and saw Aemon's gaze shift to the blade once more.

"Winters bane, I like that name!"

0000

In a run-down village deep into the Riverlands.

In the seven Kingdoms, there was a place teeming with reivers large and small as they carved through the rich and lush fields and castles to give the region its iconic name, Riverlands.

"The previous King called himself a pious man, yet even he was misguided!" spoke the young Septon standing in front of a small crowd standing outside the sept, as his fellow's sections distributed free soup and bread for the homeless and the destitute. The sept ran these soup kitchens twice a week and for many, it was their only sustenance for the days ahead.

The young septons and septas speaking up weren't ordinary as well, they were called Sparrows, named after the innocuous little bird loved by the children. It was a homage to their leader, the one they called High Sparrow, a pious man who dressed in rags and gave away all he could to the people.

"The Royal family call themselves followers of the Seven. They are anointed in their light. Yet they refuse to follow the commandments of the faith!" shouted the man. And the crowd's reaction was minimal at this, for who would dare speak against their King and liege? It would be treason.

The people in the crowd looked at each other, a bit queasy as two men stood behind and watched the young septon continue.

"The Royal family builds septs and does charity a plenty, yet they refuse to let us spread the word of the Seven across the heathen lands of the North. They refuse to let us have shields and swords to protect ourselves against the heathens that live in lands to our North," the Septon spoke in a resigned and beggaring tone, losing all the confrontational aggression from earlier.

"The word of the Seven is sacred, and we all must do our duty in spreading it to all those who yet remain buried in the darkness of ignorance so they can be brought into the light as well," continued the man.

Behind him, the two men vanished into the forest nearby. Both of them had now taken off their hoods. They were dressed in quite contrasting ways. With one of them having a balding head with white hair. A haggard face, along with callused hands, spoke of hard labor, he was thing speaking of hunger and inconsistency in his meals as he walked barefooted on the ground, his sandals given to one of the poor men he had met on the way. Yet his eyes were sharp, blue in color, and they had depths to them much like the depths of the Sea, and showed an unrelenting intelligence. And why wouldn't they, for you don't become a leader of a whole religious sect without having an impressive intellect.

"The new child is good, though I believe he was a bit too rash in his words. The Royal family will not take it fondly if they hear such words being spoken about them," said the High Sparrow, his voice smooth and light like a light morning breeze. It was as if he could calm down the world with his voice. The man beside him was dressed in opulence, covered in a fine leather doublet and a lavish woolen cloak with his hair slicked back. The man's facial features were sharp, and he would have been considered beautiful if not for his height, which only put him near the shoulders of the High Sparrow.

"Perhaps, but why will the Royal family care about what goes on in some backhand village of Riverrun? Still the young man had tact enough to change his tone when he saw how the people reacted to his words," the Preacher remarked, and High Sparrow nodded. Though internally, he was angry at the young man and had plans to rectify his behavior already forming in his head, for if the Royal family got wind of this, they would crush it all destroying all his hard work.

"Indeed, he is young yet he shows potential," added the High Sparrow as they came to a halt and two men stepped forward, carrying a wooden chest which they began to carry towards the Sept.

"This is the Gold for this month, I believe this will be enough to have the broken sept repaired and renovated," said the Preacher, and the High Sparrow nodded.

"Indeed, but have you received permission from Lord Houster, we cannot have a repeat of the incident that happened with Lord Blackwood," and the shorter man nodded, wincing as he thought about their run in with Lord Blackwood, a land which predominantly housed people who worshipped the Old Gods, the people and the Lord had not taken it kindly when they had tried to repair the septs there and had forced them to leave his lands under the threat of death.

The man would have killed them had Lord Edmure not intervened on their behalf, ordering the man to spare their lives. Now, since their expulsion, there were reports of crime becoming quite rampant in Blackwood lands, with their villages continuously getting attacked by bandits and thieves.

A tragedy, but one which they had brought upon themselves out of their own accord when they had refused to let them preach the word of the Seven in their lands.

"This is signed by Lord Edmure and bears his seal. I believe this would be enough to begin work," began the so-called preacher, and High Sparrow nodded as he took the scroll.

"Yes, this shall do," he said as he pocketed the scroll, before he looked up again.

"Now, tell me how are things in Kinglanding? It has been quite some time since I last heard of the city," asked the High Sparrow, and the shorter man's eyes narrowed.

"The City has changed quite a bit. Despite the doubts the previous King has expanded the city and now it is twice as large with work still being done. Yet the place now also teems with heathens, the King has allowed other faiths to build their places of worship as well, and now there was even a Red Temple in one of the districts," though there was reason to suspect that the King had made them swear on certain things before giving them this allowance, and he found the priests in the temple rather mild in comparison to their Pentoshi counterparts who were said to burn children in the name of their lord.

"Such tragedy, the previous King was quite an able and quick-witted man, our work would be so much easier had he been just as enlightened," said the High Sparrow in a forlorn tone, making his squirm a bit.

King Rhaegar was his father's son and had learned the art of ruling under the man's watchful eyes. Unlike the young and budding Lord Edmure, the King's heir seemed content in following his father's legacy instead of trying to overreach.

Yet it wouldn't matter much. After all they had ingrained themselves deeply into the very social fabric of Riverlands, and it would be nearly impossible for anyone to completely root them out.

"Then I believe this is it, Lord Petyr. Though I hope I can get a glimpse of your famous sermon the next time we meet," said the High Sparrow as they walked up to his horse.

Internally he winced at that name, yet he smiled and took the offered hand with a smile.

"Perhaps, but I believe I gave up that name for my service to the Seven. I much prefer the name I got through my service to the Lords. So, I was hoping that you wouldn't spread it around," remarked Petyr, and the man's smile didn't change.

"Ahh, don't worry about it, my friend. None shall hear it from this mouth,"

"Seven blessings," said Petyr as he mounted his horse.

"Seven blessings," spoke the High sparrow, yet had he known about the source of the gold he had just received, he might have used a different set of words.

0000

A new enemy emerges! AN enemy with a weapon that could tear the whole realm apart! Reliogion! 

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