Chapter 60 Chapter 59: Ed

The straw on the floor was filled with the smell of urine.There are no windows, no beds, not even a bucket of water.He vaguely remembered that the walls were light red, with patches of saltpeter exposed, and there was a gray door made of splintered wood, four feet thick, with iron nails nailed on it.When he was pushed in, he glanced briefly at the room, and when the door closed with a bang, he couldn't see anything clearly.There is not a ray of light here, and he is no different from a blind man. In other words, it is no different from a dead person.He was buried underground with his king. "Ah, Robert," he murmured, reaching out and touching the cold stone wall, his wounded foot throbbing with every movement.He recalled the jokes the king had told in the catacombs of Winterfell, under the cold stone eyes of the statues of the Kings of Winter.The king eats, so Robert said, and the Prime Minister shits.At that time he laughed very happily, but unfortunately he made a mistake.The king should die, Ned Stark thought, and the Prime Minister with him.

The dungeon was located under the Red Castle, and he didn't dare to think about how deep it was.He thought of the stories about Maegor the Cruel, who said he had murdered all the builders who had built his castle, so they could never reveal its secrets. He cursed every one of them Littlefinger, Jayno Slynt and his gold cloaks, the queen, the Kingslayer, Pycelle, Varys and Ser Barristan, and even Lord Renly, Robert's own brother, because He ran away when he needed him most.In the end, though, he blamed himself. "Idiot!" he yelled into the darkness, "you bloody idiot!"

Cersei Lannister's face loomed in the darkness.Her hair was like sunlight, and her smile was mocking. "In the Game of Thrones, you're either a winner or a dead end," she whispered.Ned lost the game, and his men paid for his stupidity in blood and with their lives. Thinking of his two daughters, he just wanted to cry aloud, but the tears just couldn't fall.Even here, he was still a Stark of Winterfell, his grief and rage frozen inside him. If he was still, the leg would not hurt so much, so he lay as still as he could.Exactly how long he lay there, he could not tell.Here there is no rising and setting of the sun, nothing to see, not even a mark on the wall.Eyes open or closed, it makes no difference.He fell asleep and woke up, woke up and slept again, and he didn't know which was more painful, falling asleep or waking up.When he fell asleep, he would dream, dark and disturbing dreams, full of blood and promises that could not be kept; when he woke up, he had nothing to do but think, but what he thought in his mind was more terrifying than nightmares.Thinking of Kate was like lying on a bed of nettles.He imagined where she was and what she was doing at this moment, but he didn't know whether he could meet her again in this life.

Time flies, days go by, or so it feels.The broken leg under the cast was aching and starting to itch.He touched his thigh and it was hot.The only sound here is his breathing.After a while, he started talking loudly just to be heard.He hatched a plan, determined to keep his sanity, to build a castle of hope in the darkness.Both of Robert's younger brothers were safe, and now they were at Dragonstone and Storm's End.Once Alyn and Harwin had dealt with Ser Gregor, they would return to King's Landing with the rest of his guard.And once Caitlin receives the news, she will call on the northern princes to rise up, and the nobles of the Three Rivers and the Vale of Arryn will fight alongside her.

He found himself thinking of Robert over and over again.He saw the young king, tall and handsome, wearing a deer helmet and holding a war hammer, riding on a horse like a horned giant.In the darkness, he heard his laughter and looked at his pair of blue and clear eyes like a lake in a mountain. "Look at us, Ned," said Robert. "Gods, how did we get here? You were locked up here, and I died at the feet of a pig. We fought and won together. Throne..." I'm sorry, Robert, Ned thought, but he couldn't say it. I lied to you, withheld the truth, and let them kill you. But the king heard it anyway. "You stiff-necked fool," he murmured, "you're too proud to obey. Stark, can pride be eaten? Will honor protect your children?" His face Pieces peeled off, the skin cracked, and he reached out and tore the mask off.It wasn't Robert at all, it turned out, but Littlefinger, giggling and mocking him.He opened his mouth to speak, but his lies turned into gray moths and flapped away.

Ned was half asleep when footsteps came down the corridor, and at first he thought he was dreaming, for it had been so long since he had heard anything but his own words.He had a high fever, chapped lips, and a throbbing pain in his leg.When the heavy wooden door creaked open, the sudden light hurt his eyes. A jailer threw him a jar.The clay pot is very cold, and the surface is densely covered with water droplets.Ned clasped his hands tightly and swallowed hungrily.Water dripped from the corner of his mouth and dripped into his beard.He drank until he felt unwell before stopping. "How long has it been...?" he asked weakly.

The jailer was as thin as a scarecrow, with a mouse face and a cropped beard.He wore an armored coat over a half-length leather cloak. "Don't talk," he said, taking the pitcher from Ned's hand. "Please," Ned said, "my daughter..." The door slammed shut, and the light faded away.He blinked, bowed his head, and curled up on the straw.The straw no longer smells like urine or feces, it doesn't smell like anything at all. He could no longer tell the difference between falling asleep and waking up.In the darkness, memories came to my heart quietly, as vivid as an illusion.That year was the "wrong spring", he was eighteen years old again, accompanied Jon and Robert down from the Eagle's Nest City, and went to Harrenhal to participate in the tournament.He saw the green grass and smelled the pollen on the wind.Warm days, cool nights, sweet bouquet.He remembered Brandon's laugh, Robert's ferocity in the jousting, the way he laughed as he chopped left and right and knocked his opponents off their horses one by one.He also remembered Jaime Lannister, the blond boy in white scales, kneeling on the grass before the king's tent, sworn to protect King Aerys.After taking the oath, Ser Oswell Hean helped Jaime to his feet, and Ser Gerald "The White Bull" Hightower, Captain of the Guard, tied the snow-white cloak of the Kingsguard on him himself.All six white knights were present to welcome their new brethren.

The tourney lasted ten days, but only Rhaegar Targaryen stole the show in the crucial joust.The armor worn by the crown prince back then was the same as the day he died in battle: gleaming black armor, and a three-headed dragon inlaid with rubies on his chest, which was his family emblem.He galloped with a scarlet ribbon flowing behind him, and no spear could touch him.Brandon fell from his horse, as did the bronze Yohn Royce, and even Sir Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Dawn. Robert was fighting Jon and old Lord Hunter for the final battle when the Dauphin had come round the ring to claim the crown after he had knocked out Ser Barristan in the decisive battle.Ned remembered Rhaegar Targaryen galloping past his wife, Princess Elia of House Martell of Dorne, and laying Queen of Love and Beauty on Lyanna's lap.The moment when the smiles of the audience disappeared is still vivid in my mind. It was a crown woven of winter snow roses, as blue as frost.

Ned Stark reached for the wreath, but there were thorns hidden beneath the pale blue petals.The sharp, cruel thorns tore at the skin, and he watched the blood trickle down his fingers.Suddenly woke up, surrounded by darkness. “Promise me, Ned,” my sister whispered to him in her bed of blood.She loved the fragrance of winter snow roses the most during her lifetime. "Gods save me," Ned broke down in tears. "I'm going crazy." The gods in the sky did not respond. Whenever the jailer brought him water to drink, he told himself that another day had passed.At first he asked someone to come and tell him about his daughter and what happened outside, but grunting and kicking were the only answers.A few "days" later, he had stomach cramps, so he begged the jailer for food, but the result was the same, he still had nothing to eat.Perhaps the Lannisters were planning to starve him to death. "No," he said to himself.If Cersei was going to put him to death, he would have been cut down in the throne room with his men.She wants him to live, no matter how weak and desperate, she wants to keep him alive.Catelyn still held her brother; if she killed him, the imp would die too.

The sound of chains clashing came from outside the cell.The door swung open, and Ned put his hand on the damp wall and crawled into the light.The bright light from the torch made him squint his eyes. "Food," he said hoarsely. "I've brought wine," a voice answered.Not the mouse face; this time the jailer was stockier, but also wore a half-length leather cloak and a spiked steel helmet. "Master Ed, drink quickly." He stuffed a wine bag into Ned's hand. The voice was strangely familiar, but it took Ned Stark a while to remember. "Varys?" he said weakly, reaching out to touch his face. "I... I'm not dreaming. It's really you." Stubby black stubble covered the eunuch's plump cheeks, and Ned felt their roughness in his fingers.Varys had transformed himself into a bearded jailer, reeking of sweat and bad wine. "How are you... What kind of magician are you?"

"Thirsty magician." Varys said, "My lord, drink up." Ned's hands were fluttering around the wineskin. "Is this the poison they gave Robert to drink?" "You're wrong about me," Varys said sadly. "No one likes eunuchs. Give me the wine bag." He took a few sips, the red liquid dripping from the corners of his fat mouth. "Although this can't be compared with the wine you invited me to drink on the night of the martial arts competition, it is by no means poisonous." He wiped his lips and came to a conclusion. "Come." Ned tried to take a sip. "This is wine lees." He felt like he was going to spit it out. "Yes, no matter you are a prince or a eunuch or a pawn, you have to learn to swallow sweet and sour. My lord, your time is coming." "My daughters..." "Your little daughter has escaped Ser Meryn," Varys told him, "and it is some kind of mercy on the gods that I have not been able to find her, nor have any of the Lannisters, for our The new king does not love her. Your eldest daughter is still Joffrey's fiancée, and Cersei kept her with her. She just went to court a few days ago to intercede for you. It's a pity that you were not there, otherwise it would have been greatly touched .” He leaned forward with obvious intent. "Master Ed, you must know that you are doomed, right?" "The queen will not kill me," Ned said.He was starting to feel dizzy; the drink was too strong, and he hadn't eaten for too long. "Kate... Kate has her brother..." "But not the brother she loves," Varys sighed, "and he's gone now too. She let the imp slip out of her hand, apparently. I think he's probably dead by now somewhere in the Moon Mountains It's a famous place." "If this is the case, then cut my throat quickly and end it." The alcohol surged, he was exhausted physically and mentally, and his mind was dizzy. "I have no interest in your blood." Ned frowned. "When they slaughtered my men, you stood by the queen and watched silently." "I would still do that now. I remember that I was not only unarmed and armored, but also surrounded by Lannister warriors." The eunuch tilted his head and looked at him curiously. "When I was a child, before I was cut off, I toured the Free Cities with the troupe. One thing they taught me is that everyone has a part to play, and it's the same in and out of the play. The court is the same. In this way, the King's Law Enforcement Officer must look fierce, the Chancellor of the Exchequer must be thrifty, the Captain of the Kingsguard must be brave... and the Chief of Intelligence must be scheming, good at flattering, and pervasive. And a courageous A complete intelligence chief is as useless as a cowardly knight." Ned studied the eunuch's face, searching for the truth beneath his fake scars and fake beard.He tried drinking some wine again, this time more smoothly. "Can you get me out of this crypt?" "I can...but should I do it? Of course not. Someone will investigate by then, and all the clues will point to me." Ned hadn't expected him to say yes. "You're really telling the truth." "My lord, eunuchs have no honor, and spiders don't have the blessing to act with self-esteem in mind." "Then can you at least deliver a letter for me?" "It depends on the content of the letter. If you want, I will be happy to provide pen and paper. I will read the letter when you have written it. As for sending it, it will depend on whether it suits my personal purpose." gone." "Your purpose? Lord Varys, what is your purpose?" "Peace," Varys replied without hesitation. "If there is any soul in King's Landing that is sincerely interested in keeping Robert Baratheon alive, it is me." He sighed. "For fifteen years I have done my best to protect him from my enemies, but in the end I cannot save him from my friends. What madness is in your head to tell the queen that you know who Joffrey really is? ?” "Benevolent madness," Ned admitted. "Ah," Varys said, "isn't it? Lord Ed, you are an upright person. I often forget this, because I rarely meet people like you in my life." He looked around the cell. "When I saw what honesty and honor did to you, I finally understood why." Ned Stark leaned his head against the damp stone wall and closed his eyes.His injured leg ached. "The king's drink... did you ask Lancel?" "Of course I did. Cersei gave him the wineskin, and told him it was Robert's favorite drink." The eunuch shrugged. "Hunting is dangerous. If the pig hadn't killed Robert, he would have been thrown off his horse, bitten by a snake, or missed by an arrow... The forest is the slaughterhouse of the gods in the sky. But killing the king It's not medicinal wine, but your 'kindness'." Ned was afraid of that. "Gods forgive me." "If there were gods," Varys said, "I don't think they'll hold you accountable. Cersei won't be waiting long anyway. Robert is getting harder and harder to handle, and she'll have to get rid of him before she can let go." His two brothers. Stannis and Renly are really a pair, a steel fist and a silk glove." He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "My lord, you are so stupid. You should have followed Littlefinger's advice and supported Joffrey's ascension to the throne." "You... how do you know?" Varys smiled. "It is enough for you to know that I know about it. I also know that Her Majesty will be visiting you tomorrow." Ned looked up slowly. "why?" "My lord, although Cersei is afraid of you...but she is more afraid of others. Her dear Jaime is now fighting against the nobles of the river, Lysa Ellingall occupies the Eyrie City, has a strong force, and she and the Queen Mother There has always been discord. In Dorne, the Martell family still holds a grudge against the death of Princess Ilia and her baby. What's more, at this moment, Young Master Ling is leading the army of northern princes across the neck to the south. " "Robb is only a boy." Ned was shocked. "A boy with an army," said Varys, "but, as you say, he's only a boy after all. It's the king's two younger brothers who really bother Cersei. . . . especially Lord Stannis. His right to succession is justified, and he can fight well, and he will not relent. There is no one in this world more terrible than a man of absolute integrity. No one knows what Stannis was doing on Dragonstone during this time, but I Bet he's gathering troops, not shells. So here's what Cersei fears: When her father and brother take on the Starks and Tullys, Stannis lands and sets himself up. Wang, and cut off her son's head with the beautiful curly hair... Of course, she herself could not save her life, although I really believe that she cares more about children." "Stannis Baratheon is Robert's true heir," Ned said. "The throne belongs to him, and I welcome him as king." Varys spat. "I assure you, Cersei doesn't want to hear that. Stannis may take the throne, but if you don't mind your tongue, there will be nothing but a rotting head to welcome him." Yes. Sansa tried so hard to intercede for you, it would be a pity if she didn't seize the opportunity. To be honest, you can get away with it now if you want to. Cersei is not stupid. She knows that a tamed wolf is more useful than a dead wolf many." "You want me to serve the woman who murdered my king, slaughtered my men, and maimed my son?" Ned couldn't believe it. "I want you to serve your country," said Varys. "All you have to do is promise to the queen that you will confess your evil treason, order your son to lay down his arms, honor Joffrey as true king, and accuse Stannis and Renly of It's ungrateful treason, and that's fine. Our blue-eyed lioness knows you're a man of your word, and if you give her the time and strength to deal with Stannis and promise to die with her secrets, then I'm sure she'll I agree with you to wear black clothes and spend the rest of your life on the Great Wall with your brother and your illegitimate son." Thinking of Jon, Ned was filled with shame, and a deep sorrow beyond words.If only he could look at the kid again, sit down and have a good heart-to-heart talk with him... His brow furrowed, his fingers opened and closed helplessly as the pain came from under the dirty gray plaster of the broken leg. "Was it your idea," he gasped to Varys, "or did you and Littlefinger come up with it together?" This remark seemed to amuse the eunuch. "I'd rather marry a black sheep of Qohor than I'd be with him. Littlefinger is the second most cunning man in the Seven Kingdoms. Well, I'll pick him some useful news, just enough to get him' Thinking 'I'm his... as if I made Cersei believe that too." "As if you made me believe so. Please tell me, Lord Varys, who do you serve?" Varys smiled slightly. "Oh, my lord, do you need to say it? Of course I have served the country. I swear on my lost lifeblood that I serve the country, and what the country needs is peace." He took the last sip of wine and put The empty wine bag was thrown aside. "So, Lord Ed, what is your answer? Please assure me that when the Queen Mother arrives, you will say what she wants to hear." "If I make such a promise, how is my oath any different from a hollow armor that no one wears? My life is not so precious." "Unfortunately." The eunuch stood up. "Then, my lord, what about your daughter's life? How precious is that?" A chill came over Ned. "My daughter..." "My lord, don't you think that I have forgotten your innocent and good daughter? The queen mother will never forget." "No," Ned begged hoarsely. "Varys, have mercy on the gods, kill or cut me to your mercy, but don't involve my daughter. Sansa is only a child." "Prince Rhaegar's daughter, Princess Rhaynis, is also a child? She is a lovely little baby, younger than your two daughters. Do you know that she has a little black cat named Baelor?" Rion? I still don't know the whereabouts of that cat. Rhaenys always likes to think of it as the real Black Death Balerion. But, I think the day the Lannister army broke down the door of her room, they Let her know the difference between a kitten and a dragon soon." Varys sighed wearily, as if carrying the world's sorrow on his shoulders. "The Archbishop once said to me that we suffer because we are guilty. If this is true, Lord Ed, please tell me...why in the power games of you princes and nobles, it is always the innocent who suffer the most Think it over, if you will, before the queen arrives. Besides, think it over: the next person who visits you may bring bread and cheese, and milk of the poppy to relieve pain...  And possibly with Sansa's neck." "Which one to choose, my dear Prime Minister, is entirely up to you to decide."