296 AC
The Small Council gathered under the blazing weight of summer. The air in the Tower of the Hand was thick as soup, smelling faintly of parchment, perfume, and ink. Flies buzzed at the windows, and even Varys had discarded his usual roll of parchments for a hand fan of pale silk.
King Robert was not present — the king had long since stopped even pretending to care — so Jon Arryn presided, pale and drawn in his chair, parchments spread before him.
Artys stood behind him, cupbearer's flagon in hand, the picture of dutiful silence.
"Lord Commander Janos Slynt," Varys began softly, "was found dead three nights past. A most… gory spectacle."
His voice seemed to fill the chamber. The eunuch looked close to tears. "The body was discovered in the alley beside the Street of Silk, along with his lieutenant, Allar Deem, and six others of their men. Throats slit, bellies opened. It appears they were ambushed—"
"Ambushed?" Stannis Baratheon cut in sharply. The Master of Ships was lean and hard as cured leather, his jaw clenched tight. "Eight armed men butchered in the middle of the city and you have no witnesses?"
Varys folded his hands. "As my lord says. Though… the precision suggests a skilled hand. Quick, silent. No witnesses survived."
Littlefinger gave a dry chuckle. "Assassin? I daresay half the city would kill Slynt for free. The man was as popular as the pox."
Renly smirked. "And nearly as clean."
Jon Arryn raised a hand for silence. "Varys — did any see the killer?"
Varys's eyes glittered in the dim light. "One poor wretch, my lord. A whore's boy, it seems. He claims to have seen a figure in a dark cloak and hood, face masked, moving like shadow. Taller than most men, armed only with a short blade— a dagger perhaps. Nothing more."
The words hung in the heat. Littlefinger's mouth twitched. "My, my. I think we should find the man, my lords, just to hire him. Such a skilled blade—I'm sure we can find uses for him."
Stannis scowled. "Janos Slynt and his cronies were scum. Nonetheless, this hooded man will lose his head."
Artys poured wine into his father's cup and kept his face still. The blade had been his dirk — Valyrian steel, narrow and curved. He could still feel the resistance of flesh under his hand, the gurgling breath of Janos Slynt as he died.
The Gold Cloaks had never been the most honorable of callings, but under Janos Slynt they had turned to real scum. Positions were sold to the highest bidders and the watch had become little better than the criminals it was meant to hold. Recently, they had begun targeting establishments covertly owned by Artys . Chataya had complained to Artys, but it had taken a long time for him to get Janos and his top cronies all in one place. Then, on a quiet night, a hood, a mask. Eight men dead before any could cry out.
It had been too easy.
Jon Arryn sighed, rubbing his temple. "The City Watch will need new leadership. The streets must not be leaderless."
Stannis nodded curtly. "The post demands a strong hand. Someone who cannot be bought."
Renly shrugged. "That rules out half the realm."
"Three-quarters," Littlefinger murmured, earning a ripple of laughter.
Jon ignored them. "I have asked my son to send forth a candidate," he said, gesturing faintly toward Artys. "Ser Jocelyn Bywater is here in the capital. A knight of proven valor, and a man with sense enough not to be bought."
Stannis inclined his head. "I know the man. He served well during the Greyjoy Rebellion. Loyal. Competent."
Renly shrugged. "And dull as dust, if I recall."
"Better dull than corrupt," Stannis snapped.
Littlefinger interposed, cautious. "A fine suggestion, truly. Still… I would urge caution. The Gold Cloaks can be temperamental when new masters take the reins. Whoever killed Janos Slynt will have left fear in his place. It may serve to appoint one the rank and file respect — and brave Ser Bywater is not well liked."
"The men might deal with Ser Bywater violently if he's forced upon them," another voice agreed.
"If I may, Father—" Artys began.
Jon Arryn nodded. "Perhaps Ser Robar Royce would be a better choice. He is a knight of valor and of good noble stock. A fresh face in the capital who has no cronies of his own to reward and who will be impartial and fair."
Artys felt Varys's eyes flick toward him for the briefest moment — just long enough to make his skin prickle. The Spider knew too much. Always did.
Jon looked to Stannis. "Your counsel, my lord?"
"Appoint Royce. Announce it at once. Discipline must be restored."
"Agreed," said Renly. "The smallfolk are already whispering. Some think it was Slynt's own men turning on him."
"Then let them whisper. Janos was scum; he should have been dealt with years ago had Robert not intervened," Stannis said coldly.
Jon Arryn exhaled and nodded. "So be it. Ser Robar Royce shall be named Lord Commander of the City Watch, and Jocelyn Bywater will be his second in command."
He turned to his son. "See it done, Artys. I'll have the letters sealed before dusk."
"As you command, Father."
Artys bowed low, but his mind was elsewhere — on a narrow alley behind the Street of Silk. He had already commanded Robar to bring thirty trusted men with him, at least ten knights. Artys wanted the Gold Cloaks in his pocket. The man who commands the watch commands the capital in all but name. Robar was loyal, knew of his abilities, and was ambitious in his own right as a second son. He would be grateful for the post; no doubt the Lannisters and Littlefinger would try to bribe him, but Robar was too honorable by half to betray a generous and valiant liege. Artys had told Robar to take the gold and come to him for instructions.
Killing Slynt had been messy; now he needed to deal with people more subtly. He saw Pycelle snoring gently, forgetting he was in the Small Council chamber, Artys saw him and plan began to form in his head .
Varys was still speaking, smooth and soft as silk. "Truly a tragedy, my lords. The city bleeds, yet somehow new order always grows from old chaos."
The corridors of the Tower were near silent, save for the faint hiss of torches guttering in their sconces.
Artys lingered beyond the council chamber's open door, in the darkness of a stone alcove. He hadn't meant to stay; he'd come back to retrieve a scroll he'd left, but voices — low, cautious — stopped him cold.
Littlefinger and Varys.
"…a bold stroke," Petyr was saying, tone half amused. "Whoever did it, they cut Janos and his little friends open like trout. The sort of efficiency I almost admire."
"A curious sentiment," Varys murmured. "I thought you would be grief-struck at the loss of your friend."
"On the contrary," Littlefinger said lightly. "I admire anything that creates opportunity. The Watch needed cleansing. I am sure valiant Ser Robar would be up to the task."
Artys cleared his throat, announcing his presence.
"My Lord Baelish, I must thank you again for the swan ship. It is truly a princely gift."
"Nothing less for the most valiant knight of the Vale," Petyr returned with his most amiable smile.
"I have heard you have named it Sea Strider. A splendid name," Varys tittered.
Of course Varys already knew — he had mentioned it in passing to his little birds four days past. Artys suppressed a grimace. "Lord Varys— I must take my leave, my lords; my little birds are waiting." The Spider rose and walked away; the sound of soft slippers faded down the corridor.
"Let us walk, ser. I have news regarding the glassmakers," Littlefinger said, a grin tugging at his mouth. Artys grinned despite himself; he had been trying to get his hands on glassmakers for years.
"I have heard the former archon's son is joining the temple of R'hllor and wants to sell all his property and donate the proceeds to the temple," Artys said. "The guilds of Myr would surely not let foreigners buy up skilled slaves."
"Should word get out that it was a foreigner buying them, yes," Petyr said. "But if we were to buy them under false names and have them smuggled out—" He smiled his mischievous smile.
This involved the food security of the Vale; Artys had waited far too long to entrust it to others. "I will head the mission myself, in disguise," he said.
Petyr looked shocked for a heartbeat, then smiled. "I shall send details at once."