chapter 103 part 1
Chapter 103: The Small Council
Chapter 103: The Small Council
The Red Keep, the Throne Room, the Small Council.
The Throne Room was magnificently appointed. The floor was paved with Myrish carpets, and in one corner stood a wooden screen from the Summer Isles, carved with hundreds of vibrant, exotic birds and mythical beasts.
The walls were hung with exquisite tapestries from Norvos, Tyrosh, and Lys. On either side of the door stood a pair of Valyrian sphinx statues, their round ruby eyes glinting with spirit in their black marble faces.
At the head of the meeting table, the King's chair, adorned with a golden Crowned Stag emblem, was empty.
Lord Jon Arryn sat to the right of the King's chair, this position symbolizing the Hand of the King.
Seated around the long table were the other Small Council members: Master of Laws, Renly Baratheon; Master of Coin, Petyr Baelish; Commander of the Kingsguard, Barristan Selmy; Grand Maester Pycelle; and Master of Whisperers, Varys.
Besides the empty seat of the King, the position of Master of Ships, Stannis Baratheon, was also vacant.
Recent worries had made Jon Arryn thinner than ever. His eyes were sunken, his face pale, and he looked utterly exhausted.
Jon Arryn let out a sigh and asked, "Only us here? Has Stannis not arrived yet?"
As Jon Arryn's words fell, a momentary stillness seemed to settle around the long table.
Petyr Baelish, his attire neat and proper, like that of a knight, scanned the expressions of those present. His grey-green eyes flickered slightly as he spoke, "Hand of the King, you know Lord Stannis. His duties as Master of Ships are heavy, and it is difficult for him to disengage."
Renly Baratheon chuckled, his voice laced with teasing. "Lord Baelish, your words are quite convincing. I even suspect that the upright Stannis has bribed you."
Petyr Baelish smiled and shook his head. "That would be my honor, which I would never forget."
The others chuckled softly, breaking the tension in the Throne Room.
Jon Arryn looked at Renly, who had a face full of smiles.
Renly was dressed in a dark green velvet doublet embroidered with twelve golden stags, a close-fitting garment. A woven gold half-cape was secured to one shoulder with a resplendent brooch.
When Robert seized the Iron Throne, Renly was merely a seven-year-old boy... Now, Renly, whose appearance was strikingly similar to Robert's, seemed like time had reversed, allowing him to see the heroic and vibrant Robert who had returned victorious from the Trident.
Jon Arryn stopped his recollections. Today, the Small Council meeting was convened for an important matter.
Regarding the matter of the royal bloodline, although his investigation had not even reached halfway, he could now say with almost certainty that Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen were not Robert's blood.
Once all the ironclad evidence was gathered, he would personally report to King Robert.
After this matter was revealed, Jon Arryn could already imagine the great shock the kingdom would face under King Robert's furious rage.
This was a matter that could not be concealed, nor should it be.
As the Hand of the King, if proof was confirmed and King Robert learned the truth, even a moment's delay would be his dereliction of duty.
Still, that saying holds true: this matter was indeed of great importance.
At that time, all Jon Arryn could do was advise King Robert not to conduct a public trial, but to handle Cersei Lannister and her bastards privately.
For example, all relevant individuals would have to die of illness.
King Robert was still young and full of vigor; he would marry a new Queen and also welcome true marital heirs.
This was the best course of action Jon Arryn could think of. In this way, the Seven Kingdoms would at least not be shaken, and the kingdom could calmly pass through the impact of this matter.
However, Jon Arryn understood King Robert's temperament. This was his extravagant hope. He had no faith in King Robert at all, and could only try; perhaps King Robert would maintain reason just once for the sake of the kingdom's stability.
...
What Jon Arryn was doing now was to prepare in advance, to prevent and deal with the worst-case scenario.
First, he needed to find other legitimate reasons to rationally seal off King's Landing, and, without arousing suspicion from others, indirectly control the Lannister family members within King's Landing.
Jon Arryn's gaze swept across the Small Council members, and he slowly said, "My Lords, I believe you have all heard about the events in the Hand's Solar. Alas, I think some people may even have already grasped things I myself have forgotten..."
Grand Maester Pycelle, seated at the end of the long table, spoke. "Lord Jon Arryn, the secret passages leading to the Hand's Solar did not appear in recent years. They are a trouble left to you by the old dragons. This is a hidden danger created by the old dragons, which also indicates that the remnants of the old dragons still harbor malicious intentions."
Pycelle had a benevolent face. A few strands of white hair hung on either side of his already bald forehead, and a long white beard flowed down to his chest. His maester's chain, made of twenty-four gold plates, hung from his throat all the way to his chest.
The Kings Pycelle had served included: Aerys V, Jaehaerys II, Aerys II (the Mad King), and Robert I.
Petyr Baelish did not show it on his face, but in his heart, he greatly looked down on the obsequious Pycelle.
Everyone could hear it. Jon Arryn was merely sighing with emotion, while Pycelle was impatiently trying to excuse Jon Arryn.
The incident of the Hand's Solar's hidden compartment itself didn't need any special exoneration. Everyone knew clearly in their hearts that this was one of the legacies left by the Targaryen dynasty. The Baratheons were usurpers, so it was only natural for there to be omissions in taking over the legacy.
Deep down, King Robert should bear more responsibility, because he was the master of the Red Keep.
Now that Pycelle had said this, Petyr Baelish, on the contrary, felt that while Pycelle's words appeared to be currying favor with Jon Arryn, he was "unintentionally" making Jon Arryn bear all the responsibility.
Petyr Baelish's pupils flickered. Was Pycelle a doddering old fool, or did he have other intentions?
Petyr Baelish's gaze met Varys, who had been silent all along. Varys retracted his gaze.
Petyr Baelish's lips curled. He was interested in testing the doddering Grand Maester Pycelle.
"Grand Maester Pycelle, are the remnants of the old dragons still active? Hearing that, why do I feel... are you trying to imply that Hand Jon Arryn and Lord Varys have always been very derelict in their duties?"
Petyr Baelish's gaze fixed on Pycelle, continuing, "I think this is a playful remark. Of course, I am also joking."
Pycelle trembled as he stood up, his maester's chain clinking.
Pycelle bowed towards Jon Arryn's direction, placing his hand on his chest and bowing his head. "Lord Jon Arryn, I absolutely have no such intention. Lord Baelish misunderstood my meaning. I only spoke from a public conscience!"
Jon Arryn waved his hand, signaling for Pycelle to sit down. He looked at the somewhat helpless Petyr Baelish and said, "Grand Maester Pycelle, I have never misunderstood you. I have always trusted you."
Pycelle, who had sat down, bowed his head in thanks, completely ignoring the instigator Petyr Baelish from beginning to end.
Petyr Baelish temporarily found no flaws. Pycelle's actions were no different from usual; he was deeply afraid of offending Hand Jon Arryn and losing his position on the Small Council.