Leaves and dead branches snapped under my boots as we made our way back toward where we’d left the carriage.
“Your Grace…” Larys called out from behind, his breath coming heavy and ragged.
“I’m not going back,” I said without looking back.
“We have nowhere else to go,” Larys replied.
I stopped dead and turned to face him.
“So what? You want us to sit there rotting in shit and piss? How long do you think we last before someone sticks a knife in us and dumps us on that pile of rotting bodies? We can’t keep wandering around aimlessly. We need real safety. Harrenhal. My armies are gathered there.”
“A hundred leagues to Harrenhal, Your Grace,” Larys rasped.
“And the woods and fields are teeming with Rivermen.”
“Fucking Rivermen,” I spat.
“I’ll make them pay. Every last one of those treasonous cunts. I’ll make sure there isn’t even a Riverlands left when I’m done with them.”
“I hope that’s just the wrath talking, Your Grace,” Larys wheezed softly.
“They are still your subjects. They could argue they were only following their oaths.”
“No, they’re not,” I spat.
“They’re treasonous cunts in open rebellion. They broke their king’s peace. Oh, the things I’m going to do to them… I keep going over it in my head, again and again. Them, those barbaric Northmen, and that fucking boar Borros dragging his feet, and”
I stopped mid-sentence and turned back around.
Larys’s breathing had turned harsh and labored.
He was slumping heavily against the trunk of a rough pine, using the bark just to keep himself upright while his crippled leg buckled beneath him.
If only your heart were as loyal inside as your face pretends to be on the outside.
But a silver tongue is a treacherous weapon, and the only fitting reward for a man who lives by whispers is six inches of cold steel straight through the heart.
“The Gods are entertained, if only for a fleeting moment. Treachery is a dance as old as creation, but yours is a bloody little affair, far less dull than the prayers of lesser men. In their divine mercy, a God has bestowed upon you a reward.”
The sound came again.
I raised an eyebrow, waiting for the grand reward, waiting for my hip to mend or the burned meat on my ribs to stop burning.
I looked down, and lo and behold, it was healed.
Just a single millimeter of clean, healthy skin.
Is this the reward?
A speck of healthy skin for a masterclass in betrayal.
I stared at one millimeter of perfection sitting in a sea of rot.
So that’s the game.
How many people do I have to kill, and kill with style, to get my entire body back?
How many bodies is a functional leg worth?
Fine.
If that’s the exchange rate, I’m going to need a lot more bodies.
After all, there are dues to be paid.
Every friendship, a hundred times over.
And every insult, every wound.
A thousand times.
Over, and over, and over again.
I walked over, grabbed Larys’s hand, and hoisted it onto my shoulder.
He stared up at me in surprise.
“What?” I said.
“At your pace, the war will be over before we get where we’re going. I’m not getting caught in these woods with nothing but a dagger and a cripple who carries a sharp mind, but no sharp steel.”
“Your Grace” Larys started.
“Shut up, Larys. I’m sick of those words. ‘Your Grace, Your Grace, Your Grace.’ It’s all I ever hear. My name is Aegon. Call me Aegon.”
Larys went quiet for a moment.
“Aegon,” Larys said slowly.
“You honor me, but I can walk on my own. I am only tired. With your injuries, taking my weight will make us even slower than my limp. I beg you to reconsider. As you said, the war will be over before we make any real progress. We are moving from castle to castle with no protection, no supplies, and no knowledge of whether the garrisons ahead are friend or foe. Let us turn back. We can hire a ship to Dragonstone”
“And do what?” I asked.
“Hide until the war is over? Let my younger brothers fight my war for me? Leave my wife with that whore and her bastards? I’d rather die.”
“Forgive me if I overstep,” Larys said, “but what will you do then? Take up a sword and fight their armies? Ride your dragon into battle? Your brothers have dragons. Your queen and mother are hostages, she won’t harm them. Aemond has Vhagar; no real harm can come to him. But it can come to us. A simple bandit on this road could kill us both. Let us at least fall back to the safety of Rook’s Rest, then decide where to go.”