"Open the gates!" Gendry shouted, his voice like steel.
"Open the gates!" Anguy the Archer repeated, his red hair blazing like fire.
The Mud Gate of King's Landing opened.
The golden battle standard in Anguy's hands fluttered in the wind. Behind them came a large force of black-armored cavalry in yellow cloaks, with Gendry's squires each leading a unit of their own.
Anguy led the mounted archers and guards. Lothor Bren led the Crownlands men, mostly soldiers from Crackclaw Point. Guyard Morrigen led the Stormlands men, while Harry the Arse and Robar led the Vale men.
Timett's wildlings had left a poor impression on King's Landing, so he did not enter the city. Jon Snow would have come as well, but Eddard had taken him to welcome the Riverlands families and lords.
"To the Great Sept of Baelor," Gendry ordered.
The Great Sparrow had still placed the bones of the septons in the Great Sept of Baelor. Gendry had to meet this man.
"As you command." Anguy nodded, and the soldiers moved like a stream of iron.
The boys of King's Landing walked beside the column in high spirits, heads held high as they imitated the soldiers' long strides. Their sisters opened windows and blew kisses down at them.
Food and peace. The Lannisters had truly worn King's Landing down. Now, beneath fresh rain and dew, the people of King's Landing had become warm again.
"Long live the Storm!"
"Long live King Gendry!"
Amid the cheers of the crowd, the knights and infantry marched straight up Visenya's Hill. The crowd before the Great Sept of Baelor parted on its own to make way for them.
Even the spectacle-loving people of King's Landing had quieted now, withdrawing to the sides one after another. The people of King's Landing had a keen nose for power.
After all, the Great Sparrow's beggar brothers had pushed a cart of bones into the square before the Great Sept of Baelor, shouting that they demanded the king's protection.
No matter how one looked at it, these beggar brothers seemed to have come looking for trouble.
The pedantic, corrupt archbishops inside the Great Sept of Baelor had no courage to deal with the Sparrows.
"The people's blood and sweat."
Gendry looked up at the seven slender towers rising overhead, then at the conspicuous band of the Great Sparrow on the white marble square. Yet the Seven were the mainstream faith of Westeros, and were indeed deeply revered.
With Gendry's arrival, the High Septon hurriedly led several archbishops out onto the square. The plump, richly dressed archbishops stood in sharp contrast to the impoverished Sparrows.
Some supporters had gathered around the Great Sparrow and built him a makeshift platform of scrap wood near the Great Sept of Baelor.
Around the great feet of King Baelor's statue lay piles of bones and skulls. These were the holy bones, according to the beggar brothers.
At the front were the filthy, ragged beggar brothers. They wore thick beards and coarse robes. Some went barefoot, while others dragged along in worn slippers. There were also women and children with fervent eyes.
"Not many," Gendry counted.
Most of the Sparrows came from the Riverlands, which had been ravaged, while some came from the Crownlands. Though Gendry had turned the tide and the war-torn lands were slowly recovering, some Sparrows still remained.
"The seven-pointed star, the mark of the Andals."
Gendry saw several warrior guards beside the Great Sparrow, each with a seven-pointed star carved into his chest.
When the Andal warriors crossed the Narrow Sea and conquered the Seven Kingdoms of the First Men, they had carved such seven-pointed stars into their chests.
"Greetings, Prince."
The Great Sparrow quickly bent the knee to Gendry. The beggar brothers seemed a little at a loss as well.
"The king."
Facing the Storm, whose fierce reputation was known far and wide, it was only natural that they would panic. Yet the Great Sparrow's calm composure gave them courage.
The Great Sparrow had a lean, angular face, a short gray-brown beard, and sparse hair combed back and tied into a knot. His bare feet were black and grimy, hard and rough as tree roots.
The Great Sparrow was the very image of austerity. He wore no decoration at all, only ragged clothes covered in patches and wear.
"Your name, septon," Gendry asked.
Gendry admired the Great Sparrow's asceticism, but he did not agree with his ideal of turning Westeros into a holy religious realm.
"A septon should have no name. A septon gives himself wholly to the Seven. The sparrow is the most common and humble of birds, and we are the most common and humble of men," the Great Sparrow replied. "I am also a sparrow."
"Peace will soon come to the Seven Kingdoms. I promise I will protect you," Gendry said, trying to persuade him.
"The Mother loves everyone, Prince," the Great Sparrow replied, then pointed to the bones. "These bones belong to holy men and women who revered the gods. They were murdered for their faith, yet to their dying breath they never wavered in their resolve to serve the Seven. Some starved to death. Some were tortured to death. Septs were plundered, and the virgins and mothers within were raped by those who blasphemed the gods and worshipped demons. Even the Silent Sisters were harassed."
"Besides the court, the Church should also be protected. I beg you to call upon the knights to understand piety, so that good men and women of faith may be kept safe."
The Great Sparrow did not say it too plainly. He did not directly call on knights to abandon their lords and protect the Church, but the meaning was there between the lines.
"The knights' protection?"
The High Septon and the archbishops were terrified out of their wits. The Great Sparrow truly dared say anything. He was courting death.
"Septon, you are only a country septon. How dare you spout nonsense before the future king?" an archbishop in a silver-threaded robe accused.
"Sparrows understand faith better than you nightingales. You are all too false," said a burly man with a seven-pointed star carved into his chest. Several others also seemed ready to swing their clubs.
The archbishops froze at once and no longer dared speak.
This useless lot from the Great Sept of Baelor were good at eating and drinking, but when it came time to fight the Great Sparrow, none of them dared step forward. They were still afraid of these poor fanatics who had nothing to lose.
"The Church does not need arms. The septons have my protection and the Iron Throne's protection. They will be safe," Gendry said carefully. "As for the brothers of the beggar band, I will arrange some food for them."
"We do not need food," said one warrior who had gathered his courage. "I have no home left. I am willing to give my body and soul to the Seven."
A cold killing intent rose in Gendry's heart. The Sparrows would not listen even to the orders of the king and the High Septon. This was no ordinary matter anymore.
The Great Sparrow looked at Gendry and spoke with great regret.
"Prince, you are the incarnation of the Seven. You are the Smith, the Warrior, and in the future, the king. You should answer the call of the Seven. Warriors should not only obey the worldly throne, but also protect the holy Church."
"Outrageous!" the High Septon cursed in fury. "Your words border on treason."
Gendry raised a hand, and every sound fell still.
Gendry looked at the Great Sparrow with his beautiful blue eyes. This was the last chance he would give him.
"The ones disturbing the realm are the Lannisters. Are you willing to lead your people west and make war on the Westerlands?"
The Great Sparrow paused for a moment before speaking.
"The Lannisters are suspected of treason, adultery, and blasphemy. They deserve to be beaten to death. But King's Landing also has many poor brothers and sisters. I have not yet brought them the holy cause, recited The Seven-Pointed Star to them, found food for them, or eased their suffering... I follow the call of the Seven. The Seven have commanded me to remain here. If the Seven issue another command, I will set out for the Westerlands."
Gendry understood. The Great Sparrow had still chosen the gods over the king.
Gendry laughed aloud, then said, "May the old and new gods protect us all."
"Prince, do not forget the people. I thank you for ending the war for now, but most of my Sparrows no longer have homes. There is suffering everywhere... grief and death everywhere. Only the Seven."
The Great Sparrow paused, then continued.
"Before coming to King's Landing, I tended to fifty or sixty little villages. They were so small they had no septons of their own. I walked from village to village, presiding over weddings, absolving sins, and naming children. Now those villages are all gone. Weeds and thorns overgrow what were once beautiful gardens, and bones lie scattered in piles by the roadside."
"I will."
Gendry turned his horse and said no more.
The Great Sparrow refused to leave King's Landing because he would not abandon the tens of thousands of refugees there.
Their paths were different. Since the Great Sparrow was unwilling to share power, since he offered everything to the gods and believed the Iron Throne should uphold the Church.
"I thought he was different," the Great Sparrow said, watching Gendry's back.
Such a fine knight, yet he refused to immerse himself in the glory of the Seven. For some reason, the Great Sparrow seemed to feel a faint, barely perceptible pressure.
"You fool, you've offended the king!" the archbishops angrily cursed the Great Sparrow.
"You are the fools," the Great Sparrow's followers snapped back, clenching their fists. After a few more arguments, both sides went their separate ways.
But the bones still remained, and no one dared touch them.
Night fell, still and dark as water.
Archbishop Ollidor, disguised, quietly slipped into Gendry's camp.
"The Sparrow frightens me greatly, Prince. You saw the things he said today. How terrifying. But this is the Great Sept, and some of the good men and women of the faith truly believe him," the archbishop said cautiously. He bent the knee before power, without the slightest trace of dignity.
"They placed the bones of septas and septons in front of the Great Sept of Baelor. They came with force."
"So he truly thinks himself a saint?" Gendry sneered. "I know the Great Sparrow still wants to go around preaching, warning that unbelievers and demon worshippers will face the doom of the end."
"You could say that, Prince. His followers are not many, but they are extremely loyal. These ascetics are very good at stirring people's hearts." A wealthy septon like Ollidor, raised in comfort, was no match for the Sparrows in stubbornness or fanaticism.
"Do you know why I chose you?" Gendry asked him.
"I have a good eye, Prince... and also, loyalty!"
"Good."
"What do you think should be done?" Gendry asked Archbishop Ollidor.
"I believe the Great Sparrow should be expelled or driven away," the archbishop said softly.
Gendry smiled and said nothing. Ollidor was still too cautious.
"I hear some people want to elect the Great Sparrow as an archbishop?"
"There is such talk. But he must follow rank and seniority, mustn't he? He has not even been chosen by us."
"What if his Sparrows carry him in?" Gendry asked the archbishop.
Archbishop Ollidor's face turned pale. "Then perhaps their clubs could decide the result."
"You have many friends in the Church. You often invite them to eat," Gendry said, looking at Ollidor.
"Yes, Prince," Ollidor said. He dreamed of becoming the next High Septon, and bribes and flattery were indispensable.
"If some people are willing to serve the Great Sparrow, is there really no one willing to protect our High Septon?" Gendry asked.
"There are." Ollidor gritted his teeth. This would cost money. "I know some poor orphans whom the Church has supported. These children start from the lowest ranks and dream of becoming septons."
"The Great Sparrow will come. His people are going to steal your bowls of rice."
"I understand." Realization dawned on Ollidor. "If the Great Sparrow dares come to seize the archbishop's seat, I will drive him out."
Do not make the matter small. Make it large.
"Go and do it. I will be behind you."
"I will serve you unto death," Archbishop Ollidor said.
"Also, think about why the Great Sparrow wins people's hearts. If you keep eating seven meals a day, you will still find yourselves surrounded by the mob."
"I understand." The archbishop wiped the sweat from his face.
"Is there any chance the king could become the High Protector?" Gendry asked the archbishop.
The archbishop opened his mouth. The Storm's appetite was greater than anyone's.
"A joke."
"I will consider the matter," the archbishop promised.
"Keep your pants tied," Gendry reminded him at the end. "If you still want to become High Septon, you should know the danger of visiting women too often."
...
In the council hall of the Great Sept of Baelor, the archbishops held their usual meeting once every seven days.
As it happened, Gendry was not in King's Landing that day. None of the armies had noticed how dangerous the Sparrows were. All that was needed was to make the deed irreversible.
A roar like a crashing tide rang out as the Sparrows stormed into the Great Sept of Baelor. They carried axes in their hands and their leader on their shoulders, demanding that the septons choose the Great Sparrow as an archbishop.
The big Sparrows had seven-pointed stars marked on their chests. Loud-voiced and bearded, they waved axes and clubs, reeking of filth.
"This is an act of rebellion," the High Septon said in shock.
He had already warned the Storm about the danger of the Sparrows, yet the Storm had done nothing.
"Look at you," the Great Sparrow rebuked them. "Each of you is fat and well fed, while the Sparrows go hungry. You do not work. You produce nothing. You should wear coarse robes and scrub the floors. Labor is also a form of prayer, especially pleasing to the Smith."
"That is not for you to accuse us of," the High Septon cursed angrily.
"Enough talk. Today, we will see a new archbishop," the Sparrows cheered.
Everyone sat on pins and needles, forced to begin choosing.
Just then, another rush of noise sounded.
A side door was shoved open. Archbishop Ollidor, who had slipped away and vanished, now charged in with a group of tall, strong septons and septas, pointing at the Great Sparrow's men.
"They are kidnapping the High Septon!" Archbishop Ollidor shouted.
The Church instantly fell into chaos. Clubs flew everywhere, and the scene turned disorderly.
At first, it was only the Sparrows and the clergy fighting. But as the sounds of struggle grew louder and louder.
"You rotten creatures!" the Great Sparrow cursed. He had confidence in his beggar brothers. How could these men possibly lose to such corrupt trash?
Clubs and short swords struck with heavy cracks. Flesh split, men screamed, and blood flew. Tables and chairs were knocked aside. The High Septon, panting heavily, managed to find a place to stand.
"Someone is endangering the High Septon!"
There were even silver-robed clergy calling for help in the square, and the bells rang loudly.
The good men and women who had come to pray were stunned. A great tide of people poured into the place, and the situation became utterly chaotic.
Some troublemakers took the chance to steal, while others joined one side or the other, Sparrows or clergy. The scene became a general melee.
The Great Sparrow had been directing matters from his place, but he sensed that something was wrong. It seemed time to withdraw.
Suddenly, pain stabbed through his waist. A dagger had driven into his body with perfect accuracy, and he did not even know who the killer was.
"The one endangering the High Septon is here!"
The Great Sparrow did not know who shouted. He only saw his blood slowly seep out, soaking his clothes dark red.
"Kill the Great Sparrow!"
More daggers and clubs came smashing viciously toward him. Some belonged to septons, some to strangers.
Before the Great Sparrow's eyes, a face suddenly appeared, stern and resolute, wearing the hint of a smile that was not quite a smile.
The Storm.
The Storm never forgot.
The Sparrows could live, but the Great Sparrow had to die. The Storm would not share authority with anyone, not even the Seven.
"It was him. It was him. He is no believer in the Seven. He thinks he is the god. I should have known, should have known that when he asked me that question that day, he had another purpose."
Pain surged from the Great Sparrow's wound in waves. Death was no pity. He had been too foolish. Death was no pity.
"The swift and decisive Storm."
He could have waited. He still could have waited. A flourishing age upon the earth, a kingdom of heaven among men.
When winter came and there were more and more Sparrows, who could stop him? The Great Sparrow's thoughts came in broken fragments.
"Great Sparrow!"
All the Sparrows stopped fighting and hurried to gather around him. Some Sparrows had already fallen. Men lay sprawled everywhere. The sacred hall was full of blood, looters, and fighters.
The believers watched the stubborn Great Sparrow as his body slowly grew cold.
"The one who harmed me, the one who harmed me..." The Great Sparrow felt his life slowly sinking away, like an extinguishing flame. "It was... it was..."
Perhaps it was the Storm.
But in the end, the Great Sparrow did not say it aloud. Only Gendry. Only Gendry had been born a commoner and a smith. The other nobles would never see Sparrows as people.
Yet the Storm did not believe in the Seven's realm upon the earth, and would not lose himself in doctrine. If that was a flaw, it was his only flaw. Even so, the Storm was far better than the lion and the wolf cub.
The Great Sparrow's gaze began to scatter.
I am going to die, but the Sparrows cannot all die because of me.
Holy Mother above, for peace, I too can be sacrificed. So be it. Let this be the judgment for my betrayal of the realm.
In truth, the Lannisters were the people the Great Sparrow hated most.
"If it must be this way, then better to give the Storm the advantage," the Great Sparrow told himself.
"It was the Lannisters! The Lannisters harmed me!" the Great Sparrow shouted with the last of his strength. "Avenge me!"