Hers Is The Fury

Word Reaches King's Landing

[King's Landing - Chambers of the Hand of the King]

Ned Stark was seated at his desk listening to Lord Varys who walks around securing the windows and doors so they could sit down for a private conversation.

"How is your son, My Lord?"

"He'll nevr walk again."

"But his mind is sound?"

"So they say."

"A blessing then. I suffered an early mutilation myself. Some doors close forevr ... others open in the most unexpected places. May I?" He gestured to a chair. Receiving a nod, he sat.

"If the wrong ears heard what I'm about to tell you, off comes my head. And who would mourn poor Varys then? North or South, they sing no songs for spiders. But there are things you must know. You are the King's Hand and the King is a fool ... your friend, I know, but a fool ... and doomed unless you save him."

"I've been in the capital a month. Why have you waited so long to tell me this?"

"I didn't trust you."

"So why do you trust me now?"

"The Queen is not the only one who has been watching you closely." Varys informed him. "There are few men of honor in the capital. You are one of them. I would like to believe I am another, strange as that may seem."

"What sort of doom does the King face?"

"The same sort as Jon Arryn. The tears of Lys, they call it. A rare and costly thing, as clear and tasteless as water. It leaves no trace."

Ned quickly rose, turning his back to Varys and walking over to the open-air entrance to the balcony.

"Who gave it to him?"

"Some dear friend, no doubt. But which one? There were many. Lord Arryn was a kind and trusting man. There was one boy ... all he was he owed to Jon Arryn."

Ned turned to look at Varys. "The squire, Ser Hugh?"

"Pity what happened to him, just when his life seemed to be going so nicely."

"If Ser Hugh poisoned him, who paid Ser Hugh?"

"Someone who could afford it."

Ned walked back to his desk and placed his hands on the chair back. "Jon was a man of peace. He was Hand for seventeen years - seventeen good years. Why kill him?"

"He started asking questions."

Which is exactly what Lord Stark had been doing.

Elsewhere in the Keep, Arya Stark was chasing a cat through the dungeons. She stopped suddenly, staring at a statue of a huge dragon's skull. As she explores, she hears two men approach. Quickly, she hid within the dragon's open jaws so she could listen.

"He's found two bastards already. He has the book. The rest will come." Varys told his old friend, Magistar Illyrio Mopatis.

"And when he knows the truth, what will he do?"

"The gods alone know. The fools tried to kill his son. What's worse -- they botched it." Varys closed and locked the corridor gate. "The wolf and the lion will be at each other's throats. We will be at war soon, my friend."

"What good is war now? We're not ready. If one Hand can die, why not a second?"

"This Hand is not the other."

"We need time. Khal Drogo will not make his move until his son is born. You know how these savages are."

"Delay," you say. "Move fast, " I reply. This is no longer a game for two players." Varys told him.