Faced with such a slippery Kal, the bitterness in Varys's heart deepened, along with certain thoughts hidden from others.
But Kal paid no mind to what schemes this deeply buried fish might harbor. Instead, he calmly slid the dagger back into its sheath, straightened his clothes, and looked down at the spymaster before him.
"As for the truth behind Lord Jon Arryn's death, I don't think this is the right time to discuss it."
"So, Lord Varys, can you tell me where this tunnel you mentioned is? To be honest, I'm rather interested."
Varys quickly composed himself, regaining that familiar posture.
His voice, sharp with the peculiar edge of a eunuch, carried a cloying sweetness. His manner was even more sycophantic than before.
"Of course!"
With a sweep of his sleeve, Varys indicated the alley he had pointed to earlier.
"This way, Lord Kal, I'll guide you!"
"Mhm, much obliged, my lord," Kal nodded, but did not move a step. "What I'd like to know is—how many men can pass through the tunnel?"
Kal narrowed his eyes slightly, his smile warm and gentle.
"Ah… without hindering passage, at most thirty."
Varys felt his teeth ache, already bracing himself for rejection or doubt.
Yet contrary to expectation, Kal simply nodded.
"That's good news."
Turning his head, he looked toward Hall and the former tribal chiefs like Cheyk.
"Choose thirty men. I'll lead them through the tunnel into the Red Keep."
"As for the rest, follow Hall's command. I want you to make preparations to assault the Red Keep—but don't actually attack."
"Wait until the true outcome is clear."
Kal only gave a few brief orders.
Varys, eager to prove himself, quickly added from the side, "Once we're inside the Red Keep, I'll find a way to open the gates and let them in!"
Kal merely gave Varys a smiling glance without comment.
"In that case, all the better."
Seeing that ambiguous smile, Varys immediately realized he had only created trouble for himself. He could do nothing but fall silent.
Though reluctant to let their lord take such a risk, none could deny the unmatched strength Kal possessed and the authority he had built upon it.
So they could only answer gloomily in agreement.
Once the men were chosen, Timett suddenly stepped forward and dropped to one knee before Kal.
"My lord, please allow me to follow at your side!"
Hearing the voice, Kal turned to look.
In Timett's single eye, he saw only firm resolve.
"Very well, you may come with me," Kal said.
Seeing Timett act so quickly, Chella beside them stared with wide eyes.
But just as she too wanted to follow Timett's example, Kal, catching her thought, shot her a glare.
Under Chella's dissatisfied gaze, Kal led about thirty men—including Jon Snow, Bronn, and Timett—following Varys through the winding alleys.
After several twists and turns, they finally entered a courtyard and stepped into a room.
Opening a plain, even somewhat shabby wardrobe, Varys lifted a panel hidden behind it, then turned his head to signal Kal.
"Ser Kal, this is the tunnel I mentioned."
But before Varys had finished speaking, Timett once again stepped forward, his tone resolute. "My lord, please allow me to go first!"
Kal, however, unexpectedly refused. "No. I trust Lord Varys."
He spoke with satisfaction, patting Timett's shoulder, then bent down, lowered his head, and with some effort squeezed into the tunnel behind the wardrobe.
Seeing his lord already enter, Timett immediately turned a hostile gaze toward Varys.
Varys, of course, understood what he meant. He briskly picked up a torch from the wall, struck flint to light it, and followed into the tunnel.
The passage truly held no danger—perhaps Varys had never intended any harm.
Even so, Kal stayed on his guard.
Before entering, he had already downed several different potions in secret, ensuring he could respond at once if anything unexpected happened.
After waiting for Varys to catch up, Kal motioned for him to lead the way.
In the darkness, some unseen current kept air flowing through the tunnel.
Smelling the faintly damp scent, tinged with a trace of the sea, Kal guessed the vents might open somewhere near the shoreline.
But he asked no further.
In silence, they wound their way forward through the twisting tunnel behind Varys.
Kal noted that the direction and angle of their path sloped ever so slightly upward.
At last they reached a locked iron gate, where Varys silently produced a key and opened the lock.
With the clatter of iron chains, the group entered a wider chamber built of stone bricks.
Kal's gaze was caught by the huge, blackened bones laid out there.
"These are dragon bones."
After relocking the iron gate, Varys noticed Kal's eyes and made a point of explaining.
"I've seen dragon bones. In the Free Cities they are often traded for high prices, for some believe they hold power."
"Warriors also use them to forge weapons."
"But bones of this size, this is my first time seeing such."
Kal spoke with a touch of awe, his eyes deep.
Then he quickly gathered himself and motioned for Varys to continue leading the way.
The Spider loyally did what was required of him, not uttering a word more.
So when the group finally left the tunnel and entered the structures of the Red Keep, they found themselves in an unknown chamber.
It was empty.
The small window of the room stood open. From the darkened night sky, stars shone brightly, and pale moonlight streamed into the room.
On the empty floor, the light revealed patches of dried, blackened blood.
Kal's gaze lingered on the stains, his face expressionless.
"Many have died in the Red Keep. Those heads on the iron spikes along the walls—many belonged to the servants here."
"Some were stablehands, maesters, menservants, maidservants, even workers whose only task was to deliver food."
Varys, seeing Kal's look, offered another explanation.
But Kal answered bluntly, "Looks like you knew them. But I saw some children's heads. Perhaps among them were some of your little birds."
Saying this, Kal withdrew his gaze and turned toward the spymaster who had intercepted him halfway.
"Yes. They were innocent." A trace of grief showed on Varys's face.
"I've changed my mind. Kevan Lannister's head will become their new companion."
Kal drew a deep breath, his voice low. "So you know where they should be?"
"That is a difficult question… but I have a way."
Varys said nothing more. He lit a sconce with his torch and set it on the windowsill outside.
"We need to wait a while. If we're fortunate…" After finishing the action, Varys deliberately explained.
Kal watched him coldly and only nodded.
"Hold this place. I'll give you only the time it takes for that candle to burn down."
"When the time is up, no matter what happens, you'll fulfill the promise you made earlier."
"By then my army will naturally control the whole castle. As for where Kevan Lannister will be, I believe he'll reveal himself."
Kal had no intention of letting the choice rest in Varys's hands.
And to be cautious, he made sure to state his bottom line.
Varys of course raised no objection.
In the dim firelight, he sat in a corner, eyes on Kal, lost in his own thoughts.
Kal ignored him, remaining silent in his wait as well.
Time passed. Just as the candle on the windowsill was about to burn out, muffled noises sounded outside.
Not long after, a woman entered, escorted by the tribal warriors guarding the door. She limped, clutching her arm.
Darkness posed no obstacle for Kal, so he could clearly see her appearance—along with the injuries on her body and face.
"What happened to you?"
"And who are you?" Kal asked in a low voice, looking at the woman brought before him.
"My lord, I work in the castle kitchens as a scullion."
"As for what happened… my lord, they raped me. Luckily, they still needed food, so I was left alive."
Her voice was flat as she recounted what she had endured, showing less grief than her words suggested.
"So you know where the Lannisters are?" Kal pressed.
"Of course, my lord." The kitchen woman nodded without hurry, her voice neither joyful nor sorrowful. "Everyone knows of the battle at the Dragon Gate, but the Lannisters returned to the Red Keep."
"Just like more than ten years ago. But this time they were more cruel—they killed even more people."
"I know one of them. Back then, he dragged Princess Rhaenys out from under the bed and stabbed her dozens of times until she was dead."
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