“Septa.” Cersei sat beneath the Iron Throne, clad in green silk and golden lace. “Tell his High Holiness that we are vexed8 with him. He presumes too much.” Emeralds glimmered9 on her fingers and in her golden hair. The eyes of court and city were upon her, and she meant for them to see Lord Tywin’s daughter. By the time this mummer’s farce10 was done they would know they had but one true queen. But first we must dance the dance and never miss a step. “Lady Margaery is my son’s true and gentle wife, his helpmate and consort11. His High Holiness had no cause to lay his hands upon her person, or to confine her and her young cousins, who are so dear to all of us. I demand that he release them.”
Septa Moelle’s stern expression did not flicker12. “I shall convey Your Grace’s words to His High Holiness, but it grieves me to say that the young queen and her ladies cannot be released until and unless their innocence13 has been proved.”
“Innocence? Why, you need only look upon their sweet young faces to see how innocent they are.”
“A sweet face oft hides a sinner’s heart.”
Lord Merryweather spoke14 up from the council table. “What offense15 have these young maids been accused of, and by whom?”
The septa said, “Megga Tyrell and Elinor Tyrell stand accused of lewdness16, fornication, and conspiracy17 to commit high treason. Alla Tyrell has been charged with witnessing their shame and helping18 them conceal19 it. All this Queen Margaery has also been accused of, as well as adultery and high treason.”
Cersei put a hand to her breast. “Tell me who is spreading such calumnies20 about my good-daughter! I do not believe a word of this. My sweet son loves Lady Margaery with all his heart, she could never have been so cruel as to play him false.”
“The accuser is a knight6 of your own household. Ser Osney Kettleblack has confessed his carnal knowledge of the queen to the High Septon himself, before the altar of the Father.”
At the council table Harys Swyft gasped21, and Grand Maester Pycelle turned away. A buzz filled the air, as if a thousand wasps22 were loose in the throne room. Some of the ladies in the galleries began to slip away, followed by a stream of petty lords and knights from the back of the hall. The gold cloaks let them go, but the queen had instructed Ser Osfryd to make note of all who fled. Suddenly the Tyrell rose does not smell so sweet.
“Ser Osney is young and lusty, I will grant you,” the queen said, “but a faithful knight for all that. If he says that he was part of this . . . no, it cannot be. Margaery is a maiden4!”
“She is not. I examined her myself, at the behest of His High Holiness. Her maidenhead is not intact. Septa Aglantine and Septa Melicent will say the same, as will Queen Margaery’s own septa, Nysterica, who has been confined to a penitent’s cell for her part in the queen’s shame. Lady Megga and Lady Elinor were examined as well. Both were found to have been broken.”
The wasps were growing so loud that the queen could hardly hear herself think. I do hope the little queen and her cousins enjoyed those rides of theirs.
Lord Merryweather thumped23 his fist on the table. “Lady Margaery had sworn solemn oaths attesting24 to her maidenhood25, to Her Grace the queen and her late father. Many here bore witness. Lord Tyrell has also testified to her innocence, as has the Lady Olenna, whom we all know to be above reproach. Would you have us believe that all of these noble people lied to us?”
“Perhaps they were deceived as well, my lord,” said Septa Moelle. “I cannot speak to this. I can only swear to the truth of what I discovered for myself when I examined the queen.”
The picture of this sour old crone poking26 her wrinkled fingers up Margaery’s little pink cunt was so droll27 that Cersei almost laughed. “We insist that His High Holiness allow our own maesters to examine my good-daughter, to determine if there is any shred28 of truth to these slanders29. Grand Maester Pycelle, you shall accompany Septa Moelle back to Beloved Baelor’s Sept, and return to us with the truth about our Margaery’s maidenhead.”
Pycelle had gone the color of curdled30 white. At council meetings the wretched old fool cannot say enough, but now that I need a few words from him he has lost the power of speech, the queen thought, before the old man finally came out with, “There is no need for me to examine her . . . her privy31 parts.” His voice was a quaver. “I grieve to say . . . Queen Margaery is no maiden. She has required me to make her moon tea, not once, but many times.”
The uproar32 that followed that was all that Cersei Lannister could ever have hoped for.
Even the royal herald33 beating on the floor with his staff did little to quell34 the noise. The queen let it wash over her for a few heartbeats, savoring35 the sounds of the little queen’s disgrace. When it had gone on long enough, she rose stone-faced and commanded that the gold cloaks clear the hall. Margaery Tyrell is done, she thought, exulting36. Her white knights fell in around her as she made her exit through the king’s door behind the Iron Throne; Boros Blount, Meryn Trant, and Osmund Kettleblack, the last of the Kingsguard still remaining in the city.
Moon Boy was standing37 beside the door, holding his rattle38 in his hand and gaping39 at the confusion with his big round eyes. A fool he may be, but he wears his folly40 honestly. Maggy the Frog should have been in motley too, for all she knew about the morrow. Cersei prayed the old fraud was screaming down in hell. The younger queen whose coming she’d foretold41 was finished, and if that prophecy could fail, so could the rest. No golden shrouds42, no valonqar, I am free of your croaking43 malice44 at last.
The remnants of her small council followed her out. Harys Swyft appeared dazed. He stumbled at the door and might have fallen if Aurane Waters had not caught him by the arm. Even Orton Merryweather seemed anxious. “The smallfolk are fond of the little queen,” he said. “They will not take well to this. I fear what might happen next, Your Grace.”
“Lord Merryweather is right,” said Lord Waters. “If it please Your Grace, I will launch the rest of our new dromonds. The sight of them upon the Blackwater with King Tommen’s banner flying from their masts will remind the city who rules here, and keep them safe should the mobs decide to run riot again.”
He left the rest unspoken; once on the Blackwater, his dromonds could stop Mace45 Tyrell from bringing his army back across the river, just as Tyrion had once stopped Stannis. Highgarden had no sea power of its own this side of Westeros. They relied upon the Redwyne fleet, presently on its way back to the Arbor46.
“A prudent47 measure,” the queen announced. “Until this storm has passed, I want your ships crewed and on the water.”
Ser Harys Swyft was so pale and damp he looked about to faint. “When word of this reaches Lord Tyrell, his fury will know no bounds. There will be blood in the streets . . .”
The knight of the yellow chicken, Cersei mused48. You ought to take a worm for your sigil, ser. A chicken is too bold for you. If Mace Tyrell will not even assault Storm’s End, how do you imagine that he would ever dare attack the gods? When he was done blathering she said, “It must not come to blood, and I mean to see that it does not. I will go to Baelor’s Sept myself to speak to Queen Margaery and the High Septon. Tommen loves them both, I know, and would want me to make peace between them.”
“Peace?” Ser Harys dabbed49 at his brow with a velvet50 sleeve. “If peace is possible . . . that is very brave of you.”
“Some sort of trial may be necessary,” said the queen, “to disprove these base calumnies and lies and show the world that our sweet Margaery is the innocent we all know her to be.”
“Aye,” said Merryweather, “but this High Septon may want to try the queen himself, as the Faith once tried men of old.”
I hope so, Cersei thought. Such a court was not like to look with favor on treasonous queens who spread their legs for singers and profaned52 the Maiden’s holy rites53 to hide their shame. “The important thing is to find the truth, I am sure we all agree,” she said. “And now, my lords, you must excuse me. I must go see the king. He should not be alone at such a time.”
Tommen was fishing for cats when his mother returned to him. Dorcas had made him a mouse with scraps54 of fur and tied it on a long string at the end of an old fishing pole. The kittens loved to chase it, and the boy liked nothing better than jerking it about the floor as they pounced55 after it. He seemed surprised when Cersei gathered him up in her arms and kissed him on his brow. “What’s that for, Mother? Why are you crying?”
Because you’re safe, she wanted to tell him. Because no harm will ever come to you. “You are mistaken. A lion never cries.” There would be time later to tell him about Margaery and her cousins. “There are some warrants that I need you to sign.”
For the king’s sake, the queen had left the names off the arrest warrants. Tommen signed them blank, and pressed his seal into the warm wax happily, as he always did. Afterward56 she sent him off with Jocelyn Swyft.
Ser Osfryd Kettleblack arrived as the ink was drying. Cersei had written in the names herself: Ser Tallad the Tall, Jalabhar Xho, Hamish the Harper, Hugh Clifton, Mark Mullendore, Bayard Norcross, Lambert Turnberry, Horas Redwyne, Hobber Redwyne, and a certain churl57 named Wat, who called himself the Blue Bard58.
“So many.” Ser Osfryd ffled through the warrants, as wary59 of the words as if they had been roaches crawling across the parchment. None of the Kettleblacks could read.
“Ten. You have six thousand gold cloaks. Sufficient for ten, I would think. Some of the clever ones may have fled, if the rumors60 reached their ears in time. If so, it makes no matter, their absence only makes them look that much more guilty. Ser Tallad is a bit of an oaf and may try to resist you. See that he does not die before confessing, and do no harm to any of the others. A few may well be innocent.” It was important that the Redwyne twins be found to have been falsely accused. That would demonstrate the fairness of the judgments62 against the others.
“We’ll have them all before the sun comes up, Your Grace.” Ser Osfryd hesitated. “There’s a crowd gathering64 outside the door of Baelor’s Sept.”
“What sort of crowd?” Anything unexpected made her wary. She remembered what Lord Waters had said about the riots. I had not considered how the smallfolk might react to this. Margaery has been their little pet. “How many?”
“A hundred or so. They’re shouting for the High Septon to release the little queen. We can send them running, if you like.”
“No. Let them shout until they’re hoarse65, it will not sway the Sparrow. He only listens to the gods.” There was a certain irony67 in His High Holiness having an angry mob encamped upon his doorstep, since just such a mob had raised him to the crystal crown. Which he promptly68 sold. “The Faith has its own knights now. Let them defend the sept. Oh, and close the city gates as well. No one is to enter or leave King’s Landing without my leave, until all this is done and settled.”
“As you command, Your Grace.” Ser Osfryd bowed and went off to find someone to read the warrants to him.
By the time the sun went down that day, all of the accused traitors69 were in custody70. Hamish the Harper had collapsed71 when they came for him, and Ser Tallad the Tall had wounded three gold cloaks before the others overwhelmed him. Cersei ordered that the Redwyne twins be given comfortable chambers73 in a tower. The rest went down to the dungeons74.
“Hamish is having difficulty breathing,” Qyburn informed her when he came to call that night. “He is calling for a maester.”
“Tell him he can have one as soon as he confesses.” She thought a moment. “He is too old to have been amongst the lovers, but no doubt he was made to play and sing for Margaery whilst she was entertaining other men. We will need details.”
“I shall help him to remember them, Your Grace.”
The next day, Lady Merryweather helped Cersei dress for their visit to the little queen. “Nothing too rich or colorful,” she said. “Something suitably devout75 and drab for the High Septon. He’s like to make me pray with him.”
In the end, she chose a soft woolen76 dress that covered her from throat to ankle, with only a few small vines embroidered77 on the bodice and the sleeves in golden thread to soften78 the severity of its lines. Even better, brown would help conceal the dirt if she was made to kneel. “Whilst I am comforting my good-daughter you shall speak with the three cousins,” she told Taena. “Win Alla if you can, but be careful what you say. The gods may not be the only ones listening.”
Jaime always said that the hardest part of any battle is just before, waiting for the carnage to begin. When she stepped outside, Cersei saw that the sky was grey and bleak79. She could not take the risk of being caught in a downpour and arriving at Baelor’s Sept soaked and bedraggled. That meant the litter. For her escort, she took ten Lannister house guards and Boros Blount. “Margaery’s mob may not have the wit to tell one Kettleblack from another,” she told Ser Osmund, “and I cannot have you cutting through the commons. Best we keep you out of sight for a time.”
As they made their way across King’s Landing, Taena had a sudden doubt. “This trial,” she said, in a quiet voice, “what if Margaery demands that her guilt61 or innocence be determined80 by wager of battle?”
A smile brushed Cersei’s lips. “As queen, her honor must be defended by a knight of the Kingsguard. Why, every child in Westeros knows how Prince Aemon the Dragonknight championed his sister Queen Naerys against Ser Morghil’s accusations81. With Ser Loras so gravely wounded, though, I fear Prince Aemon’s part must fall to one of his Sworn Brothers.” She shrugged82. “Who, though? Ser Arys and Ser Balon are far away in Dorne, Jaime is off at Riverrun, and Ser Osmund is the brother of the man accusing her, which leaves only . . . oh, dear . . .”
“Boros Blount and Meryn Trant.” Lady Taena laughed.
“Yes, and Ser Meryn has been feeling ill of late. Remind me to tell him that when we return to the castle.”
“I shall, my sweet.” Taena took her hand and kissed it. “I pray that I never offend you. You are terrible when roused.”
“Any mother would do the same to protect her children,” said Cersei. “When do you mean to bring that boy of yours to court? Russell, was that his name? He could train with Tommen.”
“That would thrill the boy, I know . . . but things are so uncertain just now, I thought it best to wait until the danger passed.”
“Soon enough,” promised Cersei. “Send word to Longtable and have Russell pack his best doublet and his wooden sword. A new young friend will be just the thing to help Tommen forget his loss, after Margaery’s little head has rolled.”
They descended83 from the litter under Blessed Baelor’s statue. The queen was pleased to see that the bones and filth84 had been cleaned away. Ser Osfryd had told it true; the crowd was neither as numerous nor as unruly as the sparrows had been. They stood about in small clumps85, gazing sullenly86 at the doors of the Great Sept, where a line of novice87 septons had been drawn88 up with quarterstaffs in their hands. No steel, Cersei noted89. That was either very wise or very stupid, she was not sure which.
No one made any attempt to hinder her. Smallfolk and novices90 alike parted as they passed. Once inside the doors, they were met by three knights in the Hall of Lamps, each clad in the rainbow-striped robes of the Warrior’s Sons. “I am here to see my good-daughter,” Cersei told them.
“His High Holiness has been expecting you. I am Ser Theodan the True, formerly91 Ser Theodan Wells. If Your Grace will come with me.”
The High Sparrow was on his knees, as ever. This time he was praying before the Father’s altar. Nor did he break off his prayer when the queen approached, but made her wait impatiently until he had finished. Only then did he rise and bow to her. “Your Grace. This is a sad day.”
“Very sad. Do we have your leave to speak with Margaery and her cousins?” She chose a meek92 and humble93 manner; with this man, that was like to work the best.
“If that is your wish. Come to me afterward, my child. We must pray together, you and I.”
The little queen had been confined atop one of the Great Sept’s slender towers. Her cell was eight feet long and six feet wide, with no furnishings but a straw-stuffed pallet and a bench for prayer, a ewer94 of water, a copy of The Seven-Pointed Star, and a candle to read it by. The only window was hardly wider than an arrow slit95.
Cersei found Margaery barefoot and shivering, clad in the roughspun shift of a novice sister. Her locks were all a tangle96, and her feet were filthy97. “They took my clothes from me,” the little queen told her once they were alone. “I wore a gown of ivory lace, with freshwater pearls on the bodice, but the septas laid their hands on me and stripped me to the skin. My cousins too. Megga sent one septa crashing into the candles and set her robe afire. I fear for Alla, though. She went as white as milk, too frightened even to cry.”
“Poor child.” There were no chairs, so Cersei sat beside the little queen on her pallet. “Lady Taena has gone to speak with her, to let her know that she is not forgotten.”
“He will not even let me see them,” fumed98 Margaery. “He keeps each of us apart from the others. Until you came, I was allowed no visitors but septas. One comes every hour to ask if I wish to confess my fornications. They will not even let me sleep. They wake me to demand confessions99. Last night I confessed to Septa Unella that I wished to scratch her eyes out.”
A shame you did not do it, Cersei thought. Blinding some poor old septa would certainly persuade the High Sparrow of your guilt. “They are questioning your cousins the same way.”
“Damn them, then,” said Margaery. “Damn them all to seven hells. Alla is gentle and shy, how can they do this to her? And Megga . . . she laughs as loud as a dockside whore, I know, but inside she’s still just a little girl. I love them all, and they love me. If this sparrow thinks to make them lie about me . . .”
“They stand accused as well, I fear. All three.”
“My cousins?” Margaery paled. “Alla and Megga are hardly more than children. Your Grace, this . . . this is obscene. Will you take us out of here?”
“Would that I could.” Her voice was full of sorrow. “His High Holiness has his new knights guarding you. To free you I would need to send the gold cloaks and profane51 this holy place with killing101.” Cersei took Margaery’s hand in hers. “I have not been idle, though. I have gathered up all those that Ser Osney named as your lovers. They will tell His High Holiness of your innocence, I am certain, and swear to it at your trial.”
“Trial?” There was real fear in the girl’s voice now. “Must there be a trial?”
“How else will you prove your innocence?” Cersei gave Margaery’s hand a reassuring102 squeeze. “It is your right to decide the manner of the trial, to be sure. You are the queen. The knights of the Kingsguard are sworn to defend you.”
Margaery understood at once. “A trial by battle? Loras is hurt, though, elsewise he . . .”
“He has six brothers.”
Margaery stared at her, then pulled her hand away. “Is that a jape? Boros is a craven, Meryn is old and slow, your brother is maimed, the other two are off in Dorne, and Osmund is a bloody104 Kettleblack. Loras has two brothers, not six. If there’s to be a trial by battle, I want Garlan as my champion.”
“Ser Garlan is not a member of the Kingsguard,” the queen said. “When the queen’s honor is at issue, law and custom require that her champion be one of the king’s sworn seven. The High Septon will insist, I fear.” I will make certain of it.
Margaery did not answer at once, but her brown eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Blount or Trant,” she said at last. “It would have to be one of them. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Osney Kettleblack would cut either one to pieces.”
Seven hells. Cersei donned a look of hurt. “You wrong me, daughter. All I want—”
“—is your son, all for yourself. He will never have a wife that you don’t hate. And I am not your daughter, thank the gods. Leave me.”
“You are being foolish. I am only here to help you.”
“To help me to my grave. I asked for you to leave. Will you make me call my gaolers and have you dragged away, you vile105, scheming, evil bitch?”
Cersei gathered up her skirts and dignity. “This must be very frightening for you. I shall forgive those words.” Here, as at court, one never knew who might be listening. “I would be afraid as well, in your place. Grand Maester Pycelle has admitted providing you with moon tea, and your Blue Bard . . . if I were you, my lady, I would pray to the Crone for wisdom and to the Mother for her mercy. I fear you may soon be in dire106 need of both.”
Four shriveled septas escorted the queen down the tower steps. Each of the crones seemed more feeble than the last. When they reached the ground they continued down, into the heart of Visenya’s Hill. The steps ended well below the earth, where a line of flickering107 torches lit a long hallway.
She found the High Septon waiting for her in a small seven-sided audience chamber72. The room was sparse108 and plain, with bare stone walls, a rough-hewn table, three chairs, and a prayer bench. The faces of the Seven had been carved into the walls. Cersei thought the carvings109 crude and ugly, but there was a certain power to them, especially about the eyes, orbs110 of onyx, malachite, and yellow moonstone that somehow made the faces come alive.
“You spoke with the queen,” the High Septon said.
She resisted the urge to say, I am the queen. “I did.”
“All men sin, even kings and queens. I have sinned myself, and been forgiven. Without confession100, though, there can be no forgiveness. The queen will not confess.”
“Perhaps she is innocent.”
“She is not. Holy septas have examined her, and testify that her maidenhead is broken. She has drunk of moon tea, to murder the fruit of her fornications in her womb. An anointed knight has sworn upon his sword to having carnal knowledge of her and two of her three cousins. Others have lain with her as well, he says, and names many names of men both great and humble.”
“My gold cloaks have taken all of them to the dungeons,” Cersei assured him. “Only one has yet been questioned, a singer called the Blue Bard. What he had to say was disturbing. Even so, I pray that when my good-daughter is brought to trial, her innocence may yet be proved.” She hesitated. “Tommen loves his little queen so much, Your Holiness, I fear it might be hard for him or his lords to judge her justly. Perhaps the Faith should conduct the trial?”
The High Sparrow steepled his thin hands. “I have had the selfsame thought, Your Grace. Just as Maegor the Cruel once took the swords from the Faith, so Jaehaerys the Conciliator deprived us of the scales of judgment63. Yet who is truly fit to judge a queen, save the Seven Above and the godsworn below? A sacred court of seven judges shall sit upon this case. Three shall be of your female sex. A maiden, a mother, and a crone. Who could be more suited to judge the wickedness of women?”
“That would be for the best. To be sure, Margaery does have the right to demand that her guilt or innocence be proven by wager of battle. If so, her champion must be one of Tommen’s Seven.”
“The knights of the Kingsguard have served as the rightful champions of king and queen since the days of Aegon the Conqueror111. Crown and Faith speak as one on this.”
Cersei covered her face with her hands, as if in grief. When she raised her head again, a tear glistened112 in one eye. “These are sad days indeed,” she said, “but I am pleased to find us so much in agreement. If Tommen were here I know he would thank you. Together you and I must find the truth.”
“We shall.”
“I must return to the castle. With your leave, I will take Ser Osney Kettleblack back with me. The small council will want to question him, and hear his accusations for themselves.”
“No,” said the High Septon.
It was only a word, one little word, but to Cersei it felt like a splash of icy water in the face. She blinked, and her certainty flickered114, just a little. “Ser Osney will be held securely, I promise you.”
“He is held securely here. Come. I will show you.”
Cersei could feel the eyes of the Seven staring at her, eyes of jade115 and malachite and onyx, and a sudden shiver of fear went through her, cold as ice. I am the queen, she told herself. Lord Tywin’s daughter. Reluctantly, she followed.
Ser Osney was not far. The chamber was dark, and closed by a heavy iron door. The High Septon produced the key to open it, and took a torch down from the wall to light the room within. “After you, Your Grace.”
Within, Osney Kettleblack hung naked from the ceiling, swinging from a pair of heavy iron chains. He had been whipped. His back and shoulders been laid almost bare, and cuts and welts crisscrossed his legs and arse as well.
The queen could hardly stand to look at him. She turned back to the High Septon. “What have you done?”
“We have sought after the truth, most earnestly.”
“He told you the truth. He came to you of his own free will and confessed his sins.”
“Aye. He did that. I have heard many men confess, Your Grace, but seldom have I heard a man so pleased to be so guilty.”
“You whipped him!”
“There can be no penance116 without pain. No man should spare himself the scourge117, as I told Ser Osney. I seldom feel so close to god as when I am being whipped for mine own wickedness, though my darkest sins are no wise near as black as his.”
“B-but,” she sputtered118, “you preach the Mother’s mercy . . .”
“Ser Osney shall taste of that sweet milk in the afterlife. In The Seven-Pointed Star it is written that all sins may be forgiven, but crimes must still be punished. Osney Kettleblack is guilty of treason and murder, and the wages of treason are death.”
He is just a priest, he cannot do this. “It is not for the Faith to condemn119 a man to death, whatever his offense.”
“Whatever his offense.” The High Septon repeated the words slowly, weighing them. “Strange to say, Your Grace, the more diligently120 we applied121 the scourge, the more Ser Osney’s offenses122 seemed to change. He would now have us believe that he never touched Margaery Tyrell. Is that not so, Ser Osney?”
Osney Kettleblack opened his eyes. When he saw the queen standing there before him he ran his tongue across his swollen123 lips, and said, “The Wall. You promised me the Wall.”
“He is mad,” said Cersei. “You have driven him mad.”
“Ser Osney,” said the High Septon, in a firm, clear voice, “did you have carnal knowledge of the queen?”
“Aye.” The chains rattled124 softly as Osney twisted in his shackles125. “That one there. She’s the queen I fucked, the one sent me to kill the old High Septon. He never had no guards. I just come in when he was sleeping and pushed a pillow down across his face.”
Cersei whirled, and ran.
The High Septon tried to seize her, but he was some old sparrow and she was a lioness of the Rock. She pushed him aside and burst through the door, slamming it behind her with a clang. The Kettleblacks, I need the Kettleblacks, I will send in Osfryd with the gold cloaks and Osmund with the Kingsguard, Osney will deny it all once they cut him free, and I’ll rid myself of this High Septon just as I did the other. The four old septas blocked her way and clutched at her with wrinkled hands. She knocked one to the floor and clawed another across the face, and gained the steps. Halfway126 up, she remembered Taena Merryweather. It made her stumble, panting. Seven save me, she prayed. Taena knows it all. If they take her too, and whip her . . .
She ran as far as the sept, but no farther. There were women waiting for her there, more septas and silent sisters too, younger than the four old crones below. “I am the queen,” she shouted, backing away from them. “I will have your heads for this, I will have all your heads. Let me pass.” Instead, they laid hands upon her. Cersei ran to the altar of the Mother, but they caught her there, a score of them, and dragged her kicking up the tower steps. Inside the cell three silent sisters held her down as a septa named Scolera stripped her bare. She even took her smallclothes. Another septa tossed a roughspun shift at her. “You cannot do this,” the queen kept screaming at them. “I am a Lannister, unhand me, my brother will kill you, Jaime will slice you open from throat to cunt, unhand me! I am the queen!”
“The queen should pray,” said Septa Scolera, before they left her naked in the cold bleak cell.
She was not meek Margaery Tyrell, to don her little shift and submit to such captivity127. I will teach them what it means to put a lion in a cage, Cersei thought. She tore the shift into a hundred pieces, found a ewer of water and smashed it against the wall, then did the same with the chamber pot. When no one came, she began to pound on the door with her fists. Her escort was below, on the plaza128: ten Lannister guardsmen and Ser Boros Blount. Once they hear they’ll come free me, and we’ll drag the bloody High Sparrow back to the Red Keep in chains.
She screamed and kicked and howled until her throat was raw, at the door and at the window. No one shouted back, nor came to rescue her. The cell began to darken. It was growing cold as well. Cersei began to shiver. How can they leave me like this, without so much as a fire? I am their queen. She began to regret tearing apart the shift they’d given her. There was a blanket on the pallet in the corner, a threadbare thing of thin brown wool. It was rough and scratchy, but it was all she had. Cersei huddled129 underneath130 to keep from shivering, and before long she had fallen into an exhausted131 sleep.
The next she knew, a heavy hand was shaking her awake. It was black as pitch inside the cell, and a huge ugly woman was kneeling over her, a candle in her hand. “Who are you?” the queen demanded. “Are you come to set me free?”
“I am Septa Unella. I am come to hear you tell of all your murders and fornications.”
Cersei knocked her hand aside. “I will have your head. Do not presume to touch me. Get away.”
The woman rose. “Your Grace. I will be back in an hour. Mayhaps by then you will be ready to confess.”
An hour and an hour and an hour. So passed the longest night that Cersei Lannister had ever known, save for the night of Joffrey’s wedding. Her throat was so raw from shouting that she could hardly swallow. The cell turned freezing cold. She had smashed the chamber pot, so she had to squat132 in a corner to make her water and watch it trickle133 across the floor. Every time she closed her eyes, Unella was looming134 over her again, shaking her and asking her if she wanted to confess her sins.
Day brought no relief. Septa Moelle brought her a bowl of some waterly grey gruel135 as the sun was coming up. Cersei flung it at her head. When they brought a fresh ewer of water, though, she was so thirsty that she had no choice but to drink. When they brought another shift, grey and thin and smelling of mildew136, she put it on over her nakedness. And that evening when Moelle appeared again she ate the bread and fish and demanded wine to wash it down. No wine appeared, only Septa Unella, making her hourly visit to ask if the queen was ready to confess.
What can be happening? Cersei wondered, as the thin slice of sky outside her window began to darken once again. Why has no one come to pry137 me out of here? She could not believe that the Kettleblacks would abandon their brother. What was her council doing? Cravens and traitors. When I get out of here I will have the lot of them beheaded and find better men to take their place.
Thrice that day she heard the sound of distant shouting drifting up from the plaza, but it was Margaery’s name that the mob was calling, not hers.
It was near dawn on the second day and Cersei was licking the last of the porridge from the bottom of the bowl when her cell door swung open unexpectedly to admit Lord Qyburn. It was all she could do not to throw herself at him. “Qyburn,” she whispered, “oh, gods, I am so glad to see your face. Take me home.”
“That will not be allowed. You are to be tried before a holy court of seven, for murder, treason, and fornication.”
Cersei was so exhausted that the words seemed nonsensical to her at first. “Tommen. Tell me of my son. Is he still king?”
“He is, Your Grace. He is safe and well, secure within the walls of Maegor’s Holdfast, protected by the Kingsguard. He is lonely, though. Fretful. He asks for you, and for his little queen. As yet, no one has told him of your . . . your . . .”
“. . . difficulties?” she suggested. “What of Margaery?”
“She is to be tried as well, by the same court that conducts your trial. I had the Blue Bard delivered to the High Septon, as Your Grace commanded. He is here now, somewhere down below us. My whisperers tell me that they are whipping him, but so far he is still singing the same sweet song we taught him.”
The same sweet song. Her wits were dull for want of sleep. Wat, his real name is Wat. If the gods were good, Wat might die beneath the lash113, leaving Margaery with no way to disprove his testimony138. “Where are my knights? Ser Osfryd . . . the High Septon means to kill his brother Osney, his gold cloaks must . . .”
“Osfryd Kettleblack no longer commands the City Watch. The king has removed him from office and raised the captain of the Dragon Gate in his place, a certain Humfrey Waters.”
Cersei was so tired, none of this made any sense. “Why would Tommen do that?”
“The boy is not to blame. When his council puts a decree in front of him, he signs his name and stamps it with his seal.”
“My council . . . who? Who would do that? Not you?”
“Alas, I have been dismissed from the council, although for the nonce they allow me to continue my work with the eunuch’s whisperers. The realm is being ruled by Ser Harys Swyft and Grand Maester Pycelle. They have dispatched a raven103 to Casterly Rock, inviting139 your uncle to return to court and assume the regency. If he means to accept, he had best make haste. Mace Tyrell has abandoned his siege of Storm’s End and is marching back to the city with his army, and Randyll Tarly is reported on his way down from Maidenpool as well.”
“Has Lord Merryweather agreed to this?”
“Merryweather has resigned his seat on the council and fled back to Longtable with his wife, who was the first to bring us news of the . . . accusations . . . against Your Grace.”
“They let Taena go.” That was the best thing she had heard since the High Sparrow had said no. Taena could have doomed140 her. “What of Lord Waters? His ships . . . if he brings his crews ashore141, he should have enough men to . . .”
“As soon as word of Your Grace’s present troubles reached the river, Lord Waters raised sail, unshipped his oars66, and took his fleet to sea. Ser Harys fears he means to join Lord Stannis. Pycelle believes that he is sailing to the Stepstones, to set himself up as a pirate.”
“All my lovely dromonds.” Cersei almost laughed. “My lord father used to say that bastards142 are treacherous143 by nature. Would that I had listened.” She shivered. “I am lost, Qyburn.”
“No.” He took her hand. “Hope remains144. Your Grace has the right to prove your innocence by battle. My queen, your champion stands ready. There is no man in all the Seven Kingdoms who can hope to stand against him. If you will only give the command . . .”
This time she did laugh. It was funny, terribly funny, hideously145 funny. “The gods make japes of all our hopes and plans. I have a champion no man can defeat, but I am forbidden to make use of him. I am the queen, Qyburn. My honor can only be defended by a Sworn Brother of the Kingsguard.”
“I see.” The smile died on Qyburn’s face. “Your Grace, I am at a loss. I do not know how to counsel you . . .”
Even in her exhausted, frightened state, the queen knew she dare not trust her fate to a court of sparrows. Nor could she count on Ser Kevan to intervene, after the words that had passed between them at their last meeting. It will have to be a trial by battle. There is no other way. “Qyburn, for the love you bear me, I beg you, send a message for me. A raven if you can. A rider, if not. You must send to Riverrun, to my brother. Tell him what has happened, and write . . . write . . .”
“Yes, Your Grace?”
She licked her lips, shivering. “Come at once. Help me. Save me. I need you now as I have never needed you before. I love you. I love you. I love you. Come at once.”
“As you command. ‘I love you’ thrice?”
“Thrice.” She had to reach him. “He will come. I know he will. He must. Jaime is my only hope.”
“My queen,” said Qyburn, “have you . . . forgotten? Ser Jaime has no sword hand. If he should champion you and lose . . .”
We will leave this world together, as we once came into it. “He will not lose. Not Jaime. Not with my life at stake.”
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收听单词发音
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1
harridan
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| n.恶妇；丑老大婆 | |
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axe
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| n.斧子；v.用斧头砍，削减 | |
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disapproval
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| n.反对，不赞成 | |
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maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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wager
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| n.赌注；vt.押注，打赌 | |
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knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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knights
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| 骑士； （中古时代的）武士( knight的名词复数 )； 骑士； 爵士； （国际象棋中）马 | |
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8
vexed
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| adj.争论不休的；（指问题等）棘手的；争论不休的问题；烦恼的v.使烦恼( vex的过去式和过去分词 )；使苦恼；使生气；详细讨论 | |
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glimmered
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| v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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farce
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| n.闹剧，笑剧，滑稽戏；胡闹 | |
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consort
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| v.相伴；结交 | |
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flicker
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| vi./n.闪烁，摇曳，闪现 | |
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innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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offense
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| n.犯规，违法行为；冒犯，得罪 | |
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lewdness
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| n. 淫荡, 邪恶 | |
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conspiracy
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| n.阴谋，密谋，共谋 | |
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helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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calumnies
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| n.诬蔑，诽谤，中伤（的话）( calumny的名词复数 ) | |
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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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22
wasps
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| 黄蜂( wasp的名词复数 )； 胡蜂； 易动怒的人； 刻毒的人 | |
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thumped
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| v.重击， （指心脏）急速跳动( thump的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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attesting
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| v.证明( attest的现在分词 )；证实；声称…属实；使宣誓 | |
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maidenhood
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| n. 处女性, 处女时代 | |
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poking
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| n. 刺，戳，袋 vt. 拨开，刺，戳 vi. 戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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droll
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| adj.古怪的，好笑的 | |
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shred
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| v.撕成碎片，变成碎片；n.碎布条，细片，些少 | |
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slanders
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| 诽谤，诋毁( slander的名词复数 ) | |
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curdled
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| v.（使）凝结( curdle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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privy
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| adj.私用的；隐密的 | |
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uproar
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| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
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herald
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| vt.预示...的来临，预告，宣布，欢迎 | |
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quell
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| v.压制，平息，减轻 | |
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savoring
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| v.意味，带有…的性质( savor的现在分词 )；给…加调味品；使有风味；品尝 | |
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exulting
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| vi. 欢欣鼓舞，狂喜 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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39
gaping
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| adj.口的；张口的；敞口的；多洞穴的v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的现在分词 )；张开，张大 | |
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40
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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41
foretold
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| v.预言，预示( foretell的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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42
shrouds
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| n.裹尸布( shroud的名词复数 )；寿衣；遮蔽物；覆盖物v.隐瞒( shroud的第三人称单数 )；保密 | |
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43
croaking
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| v.呱呱地叫( croak的现在分词 )；用粗的声音说 | |
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44
malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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45
mace
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| n.狼牙棒，豆蔻干皮 | |
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arbor
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| n.凉亭；树木 | |
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47
prudent
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| adj.谨慎的，有远见的，精打细算的 | |
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48
mused
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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49
dabbed
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| （用某物）轻触( dab的过去式和过去分词 )； 轻而快地擦掉（或抹掉）； 快速擦拭； （用某物）轻而快地涂上（或点上）… | |
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50
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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51
profane
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| adj.亵神的，亵渎的；vt.亵渎，玷污 | |
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52
profaned
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| v.不敬( profane的过去式和过去分词 )；亵渎，玷污 | |
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53
rites
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| 仪式，典礼( rite的名词复数 ) | |
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54
scraps
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| 油渣 | |
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55
pounced
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| v.突然袭击( pounce的过去式和过去分词 )；猛扑；一眼看出；抓住机会（进行抨击） | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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57
churl
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| n.吝啬之人；粗鄙之人 | |
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58
bard
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| n.吟游诗人 | |
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wary
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| adj.谨慎的，机警的，小心的 | |
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rumors
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| n.传闻( rumor的名词复数 )；[古]名誉；咕哝；[古]喧嚷v.传闻( rumor的第三人称单数 )；[古]名誉；咕哝；[古]喧嚷 | |
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61
guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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62
judgments
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| 判断( judgment的名词复数 )； 鉴定； 评价； 审判 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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64
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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66
oars
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| n.桨，橹( oar的名词复数 )；划手v.划（行）( oar的第三人称单数 ) | |
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irony
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| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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traitors
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| 卖国贼( traitor的名词复数 )； 叛徒； 背叛者； 背信弃义的人 | |
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70
custody
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| n.监护，照看，羁押，拘留 | |
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collapsed
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| adj.倒塌的 | |
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72
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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chambers
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| n.房间( chamber的名词复数 )；（议会的）议院；卧室；会议厅 | |
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74
dungeons
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| n.地牢( dungeon的名词复数 ) | |
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75
devout
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| adj.虔诚的，虔敬的，衷心的 (n.devoutness) | |
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76
woolen
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| adj.羊毛(制)的；毛纺的 | |
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77
embroidered
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| adj．绣花的 | |
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78
soften
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| v.(使)变柔软；(使)变柔和 | |
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bleak
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| adj.(天气)阴冷的；凄凉的；暗淡的 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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81
accusations
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| n.指责( accusation的名词复数 )；指控；控告；（被告发、控告的）罪名 | |
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82
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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83
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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84
filth
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| n.肮脏，污物，污秽；淫猥 | |
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85
clumps
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| n.（树、灌木、植物等的）丛、簇( clump的名词复数 )；（土、泥等）团；块；笨重的脚步声v.（树、灌木、植物等的）丛、簇( clump的第三人称单数 )；（土、泥等）团；块；笨重的脚步声 | |
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sullenly
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| 不高兴地，绷着脸，忧郁地 | |
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novice
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| adj.新手的，生手的 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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novices
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| n.新手( novice的名词复数 )；初学修士（或修女）；（修会等的）初学生；尚未赢过大赛的赛马 | |
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formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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meek
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| adj.温顺的，逆来顺受的 | |
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93
humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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94
ewer
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| n.大口水罐 | |
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slit
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| n.狭长的切口；裂缝；vt.切开，撕裂 | |
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tangle
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| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
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filthy
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| adj.卑劣的；恶劣的，肮脏的 | |
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fumed
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| 愤怒( fume的过去式和过去分词 )； 大怒； 发怒； 冒烟 | |
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99
confessions
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| n.承认( confession的名词复数 )；自首；声明；（向神父的）忏悔 | |
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100
confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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101
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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102
reassuring
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| a.使人消除恐惧和疑虑的，使人放心的 | |
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103
raven
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| n.渡鸟，乌鸦；adj.乌亮的 | |
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104
bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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105
vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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106
dire
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| adj.可怕的，悲惨的，阴惨的，极端的 | |
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107
flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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108
sparse
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| adj.稀疏的，稀稀落落的，薄的 | |
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109
carvings
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| n.雕刻( carving的名词复数 )；雕刻术；雕刻品；雕刻物 | |
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110
orbs
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| abbr.off-reservation boarding school 在校寄宿学校n.球，天体，圆形物( orb的名词复数 ) | |
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111
conqueror
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| n.征服者，胜利者 | |
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112
glistened
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| v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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113
lash
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| v.系牢；鞭打；猛烈抨击；n.鞭打；眼睫毛 | |
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114
flickered
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| （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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115
jade
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| n.玉石；碧玉；翡翠 | |
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116
penance
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| n.（赎罪的）惩罪 | |
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117
scourge
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| n.灾难，祸害；v.蹂躏 | |
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118
sputtered
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| v.唾沫飞溅( sputter的过去式和过去分词 )；发劈啪声；喷出；飞溅出 | |
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119
condemn
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| vt.谴责，指责；宣判(罪犯)，判刑 | |
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120
diligently
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| ad.industriously;carefully | |
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121
applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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122
offenses
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| n.进攻( offense的名词复数 )；（球队的）前锋；进攻方法；攻势 | |
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123
swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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124
rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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125
shackles
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| 手铐( shackle的名词复数 )； 脚镣； 束缚； 羁绊 | |
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126
halfway
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| adj.中途的，不彻底的，部分的；adv.半路地，在中途，在半途 | |
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127
captivity
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| n.囚禁；被俘；束缚 | |
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128
plaza
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| n.广场，市场 | |
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129
huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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130
underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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131
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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132
squat
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| v.蹲坐，蹲下；n.蹲下；adj.矮胖的，粗矮的 | |
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133
trickle
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| vi.淌，滴，流出，慢慢移动，逐渐消散 | |
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134
looming
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| n.上现蜃景（光通过低层大气发生异常折射形成的一种海市蜃楼）v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的现在分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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135
gruel
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| n.稀饭，粥 | |
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136
mildew
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| n.发霉；v.（使）发霉 | |
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137
pry
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| vi.窥(刺)探，打听；vt.撬动(开，起) | |
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138
testimony
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| n.证词；见证，证明 | |
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139
inviting
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| adj.诱人的，引人注目的 | |
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140
doomed
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| 命定的 | |
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141
ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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142
bastards
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| 私生子( bastard的名词复数 )； 坏蛋； 讨厌的事物； 麻烦事 （认为别人走运或不幸时说）家伙 | |
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143
treacherous
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| adj.不可靠的，有暗藏的危险的；adj.背叛的，背信弃义的 | |
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144
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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145
hideously
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| adv.可怕地，非常讨厌地 | |
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