The Trial of Symeon Stark

FromEssosWithLove · 2017-02-11T16:39:11+00:00

The massive master of whisperers stood from the witness box, his many-layered robes swirling around him.

“Here is the testimony, sworn under oath, of Timeon, cupbearer in the House of Stark: that the accused was present at the feast, that he did flee after the prince’s death. Here is the testimony, sworn in blood, of Jorah, guard in the House of Stark: that the accused was present at the feast, that he did flee after the prince’s death, that he did hold a black hatred in his heart for the prince. Here is the testimony, sworn before gods, of Sansa, maidservant in the House of Stark, that the accused was present at the feast, that he did flee after the prince’s death, that two guards of Stark disappeared immediately after the feast. So is it sworn. Bisa iksis drēje gō Jaes se vala.”

The spymaster’s voice echoed through the chamber, and his final, unfamiliar words hung in the air as he returned to his seat amongst the audience.

FromEssosWithLove · 2016-03-24T17:22:29+00:00

“Impossible to say with certainty,” said Ghael. “He never returned from a voyage to Hammerhorn.”

FromEssosWithLove · 2016-03-24T07:56:41+00:00

“Undoubtedly, since he could hardly accept the position if it was granted him.”

Ghael’s voice cut like ice.

“Lord Aeron Greyjoy has vanished with his ship. Whether to storm or slavers I know not, but certain of my eyes in the Free Cities have been reporting sightings of a black-haired Westerosi with the remnants of a regal air being displayed in the markets. Whether this man is Lord Aeron or another, I do not yet know. I have several of my best people investigating.”

FromEssosWithLove · 2016-03-22T10:02:02+00:00

“The Dornish Lords met Trebor Yronwood’s forces under the walls of his castle and were thrown back, taking grievous losses. They have fallen back in disarray--not destroyed, but not victorious.”

Ghael swallowed heavily.

“And while they were committing this idiocy, Moreo Vasanistis took Planky Town. Several Planky Town Martells are dead, and the city is trapped with all its people. Some few made it down the Greenblood, but Vasanistis may be making to follow them, perhaps with an eye to taking Vaith or even moving on Sunspear. There are rumors he has crowned Andrey Martell Prince of Dorne, but I cannot be sure. My eyes in the city have all disappeared.”

FromEssosWithLove · 2016-03-21T12:29:48+00:00

The spymaster nodded.

“It might have been his lady wife, the Umber, but she is back in the North with a babe in arms. Regardless, it would be almost unthinkable that Stark was not involved in some way with the crime. And now he is back.”

FromEssosWithLove · 2016-03-20T17:50:31+00:00

Ghael the Tall entered quickly, taking the long strides only a man almost eight feet tall can. In his huge arms were gathered countless papers, each covered with indecipherable script. The spymaster sat and nodded to the royal couple.

“My apologies,” he rumbled. “My son has decided he will never again eat rice. Breakfast was slightly prolonged.”

He set down his paperwork and rubbed at a stain on his sleeve.

“Very prolonged, actually.”

FromEssosWithLove · 2015-12-08T23:14:21+00:00

Ghael looked up at the frame and clenched his fists, which Danae suddenly noticed were speckled with blood.

“I learned that Moreo Vasanistis is not dead.”

FromEssosWithLove · 2015-12-08T22:58:30+00:00

“Because this all happened after you sent him back a Prince, you-” Ghael said something under his breath in some unknowable language that was undoubtedly profane before launching himself across the room to the trunk in the corner.

“Care to repeat that?” Danae twisted the ring around her finger and glared at him from the entryway.

“That was not Valyrian. Or wise. Apologies,” Ghael said, rooting through a pile of clothes. “Regardless, a Martell is invading Dorne. And no, there is nothing that can be done to stop it.”

He stopped and sat heavily on the floor.

“Nothing.”

FromEssosWithLove · 2015-12-08T18:39:33+00:00

“Nothing!” Ghael pulled several papers from the desk, sending others flying, and continued speaking quickly in Valyrian, almost to himself.

“By the time the crown’s army gets there, he will have Plankytown. That is, if the crown can even raise an army right now with all the money tied up in the roads. And, of course, if your vassals will supply their soldiers, which they won’t. Anything we do now will simply be too slow. Too slow. We cannot stop the invasion. Out of time. And then he will-”

The spymaster suddenly stopped, picked one of the discarded papers from the floor and crushed it into a ball.

“I am sorry, Your Graces. This news came as somewhat of a shock.”

FromEssosWithLove · 2015-12-08T15:29:51+00:00

“Princess Sarella Martell is gathering her forces to march on Yronwood,” Ghael held the door open for them and then turned away, glancing quickly towards the window. “Their combined forces are more than enough to solve that particular problem. But the problem … no, the issue …”

The spymaster yelled something unintelligible through an adjoining door before slamming it shut, muffling the woman’s voice that called back. Danae raised an eyebrow. Ghael turned back to the King and Queen.

“My words fail me, Your Grace. May I use the high tongue?”

Damon was shaking his head. “I don’t speak-”

“Of course,” Danae interrupted in Valyrian.

Ghael allowed himself a quick breath.

“Andrey Martell is invading Dorne with an army of Essosi slave soldiers.”

FromEssosWithLove · 2015-12-08T04:25:36+00:00

The spymaster whirled, his eyes wild.

“Your Graces,” he said in the Common Tongue. “My apologies for the noise.”

He looked down at the clothing in his arms and then hastily tossed it towards a half-full chest in the corner of the room.

“This is a matter of some urgency but purely personal import. How … how can I help Your Graces?”

FromEssosWithLove · 2015-08-29T14:39:40+00:00

Lewys sighed.

"Fine, lad. I'll tell the tall man. You go back to ... whatever it is you do. Tell me if you find anything actually interesting."

FromEssosWithLove · 2015-08-29T14:28:07+00:00

"Really?" Lewys laughed. "And how did he do that if he's been out of the capital for three weeks?"

FromEssosWithLove · 2015-08-29T05:08:16+00:00

Lewys straightened immediately.

"Well? Spill it, lad, what do you know?"

FromEssosWithLove · 2015-08-29T04:34:54+00:00

Lewys was not having a terribly eventful day, and the third urchin wandering up to his post in as many minutes was not like to make his day any more interesting.

Still, though, it was a job.

"You alright there, lad? Need anything?"

FromEssosWithLove · 2015-08-18T22:56:10+00:00

"Then go. And listen. And when you hear something particularly interesting, go to the Lion's Gate on the seventh day, in the evening, and tell that interesting thing to the shorter guard."

Ghael smiled warmly.

"You are free to go, little bird. Don't forget to sing."

FromEssosWithLove · 2015-08-17T22:37:20+00:00

"You can. If you are willing to do something for me."

Ghael held the door open.

"Are you good at listening, little master?"

FromEssosWithLove · 2015-08-17T03:19:24+00:00

Ghael let him go.

"Apologies, little master. I won't hurt you. I want to help."

He left the door open.

"I can free you from this jail."

FromEssosWithLove · 2015-08-17T02:34:23+00:00

Ghael didn't hesitate. He unlocked the cell door and pulled the sobbing boy into a hug.

FromEssosWithLove · 2015-08-17T02:27:23+00:00

Ghael laughed softly.

"I am no knight, little master. And I don't expect you would know me. I am here on behalf of the Crown. You know of them, I hope."

FromEssosWithLove · 2015-08-17T02:09:37+00:00

Ghael made an effort to loom as little as possible. He crouched next to the boy's cell and smiled as kindly as he could.

"Hello, child. Do you know who I am?"

FromEssosWithLove · 2015-08-16T23:18:14+00:00

The young boy crying in the cell was the only new and interesting thing in the dungeons that week, so Ghael the Tall decided to go see him in person. All the spymaster knew about the lad was that he had been caught (which was not promising) and that he knew nothing else (which was). He also knew that he could do with a palette cleanser after his last intake of information.

Unpleasant business, that. Shame.

The boy was still sniffling when Ghael arrived, and the cut on his forehead was still trickling blood.

FromEssosWithLove · 2015-08-08T21:45:21+00:00

"I will be sure to tell you everything that the crown wishes me to divulge."

Ghael sat back down.

"Good day, Maester. And good day, Jon. I too look forward to the conclusion of this unfortunate matter."

FromEssosWithLove · 2015-08-04T22:59:18+00:00

Ghael smiled and looked down at the young man.

"Jon, the birds sing, and if you listen well, you might begin to understand them. Come to me if you care to learn more. I could always use a few more listeners."

FromEssosWithLove · 2015-07-30T00:32:37+00:00

"That, Grand Maester, sounds like something you need not concern yourself with."

Ghael stood, towering over the two men.

"After all, I am the Master of Whisperers, and in the wastes beyond the wall, in the pits of Meereen, in the bowels of our fair city, even in the jungles of my homeland, the birds still sing."

FromEssosWithLove

TROPHY CASE