Game of Thrones: The Road to Pirate King

Chapter 173 The Mad King - The Split Alliance

While the clamor of the seven groups' martial arts contest echoed throughout Harrenhal, a different, gloomy scene unfolded deep within the castle.

The Mad King Aerys II and his small but self-serving royal council—including Varys the Spider, Chancellor of the Exchequer Colton Chester, Minister of Justice Simon Staunton, and Lord Marie Weiss, the Hand of the King—are gathered in the stone chamber by candlelight, plotting their next move.

Varys, the "Eight-Clawed Spider," delivered news in his soft, feather-like voice that was enough to ignite the king's fury: "Your Majesty, they have quietly woven a web against you through the bond of marriage. Lord Tywin..."

House Stark, House Arryn, House Tully—they intend to openly nominate Prince Rhaegar to replace you on the throne after the tournament.

Aerys II's breathing suddenly became heavy, his withered fingers digging tightly into the armrests of his throne, his eyes blazing with a frenzied green flame: "Traitors! A bunch of insatiable ingrates! I'll burn them all! With wildfire, I'll consume them all—"

"Your Majesty!" The voice of Justice Minister Simon Staunton was cold and hard, interrupting the king's rage. "Please calm down. We are at Harrenhal, and they far outnumber our loyal guards. Anger will not help; what we need is a plan."

"A plan?" Iris hissed, his gaze sweeping over his high-ranking officials. "What plan?!"

Earl Marie Weiss, the Hand of the King, placed his hands on the table, the candlelight reflecting a cold gleam in his deep green eyes: "Since they have formed an alliance through marriage, then we will use marriage to tear them apart completely."

Varys laid out his treacherous plan with meticulous clarity: "First, it concerns the marriage between the Lannisters and the Tullys."

Varys's voice was soft yet clear, as if stating a trivial matter. "Ser Jaime Lannister desperately desires to become a Kingsguard, regarding the white robes as the highest honor. We will grant his wish; His Majesty need only generously bestow this honor upon him. This kills two birds with one stone: it firmly controls the apparent heir of Casterly Rock within the Red Keep, making him your most glamorous hostage; and it completely shatters his unpleasant engagement to Lady Lysa Tully. And thus," he paused slightly, his tone flat and even, "the rightful heir of House Lannister will rightfully fall upon Lord Tyrion."

Aerys II's manic eyes narrowed, a mixture of suspicion and a flicker of intrigue in them: "Would Jaime Lannister himself agree? More importantly, would Lord Tywin—would he tolerate us manipulating his heir like this?"

"Ser Jaime will surely accept it gladly," Varys replied confidently, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Young men yearn for gleaming armor and resounding songs; he longs to be a part of the legend. According to my little birds, he seems rather dissatisfied with Lady Lysa Tully's—appearance—and even had a heated argument with Lord Tywin about it. His Majesty is now bestowing upon him the honor he's dreamed of; he will be eternally grateful."

"As for Lord Tywin," Varys's voice held a hint of barely perceptible sarcasm, "he certainly wouldn't agree. His disgust for the matter, and his opinion of Lord Tyrion—, is no secret in King's Landing."

Upon hearing this, Aerys II burst into a sharp and hearty laugh, as if he had heard the most ridiculous joke in the world: "Good! Good! That's settled then! I want to see how interesting Tywin's face will be when he finds out that his heir has become that little monster he wants to strangle! His expression will be worse than if he'd eaten shit! Hahahaha!"

Varys's soft voice continued to echo in the somber stone chamber, like the flicking of a viper's tongue: "Dorn. Their current support for Prince Rhaegar is based on his marriage to Princess Elia. The most direct way to dismantle this support is to have His Highness Rhaegar break off his engagement with her." He spread his soft palm, as if displaying a simple commodity. "Once the marriage is gone, the people of Dorne will not feel the breakdown of the alliance, but rather a naked humiliation. At that point, all they will have left for Rhaegar is hatred, and there will be no possibility of them helping him again."

Earl Marie Weiss, the Hand of the King, frowned and raised a question that was both doctrinal and legal: "Divorce? They made a sacred vow under the witness of the Seven Gods, how can they be so careless as to just get divorced like that?"

“Of course this cannot be a trivial matter, my lord,” Varys replied calmly, as if prepared. “But we need a legitimate reason.” Princess Elia Martell had given birth to only one daughter since her marriage to Prince Rhaegar.

According to the diagnosis of the Grand Tutor Paisel himself—"He deliberately emphasized the authority of the scholar, "Her Highness is physically weak and her vital energy is greatly depleted, making it extremely difficult for her to bear children for the royal family."

He paused briefly, letting the harsh reality settle, before concluding in an irrefutable tone: "And the king needs a healthy male heir, the Iron Throne needs a secure future, and the Seven Kingdoms—need a true prince. This is the most compelling reason."

King Aerys II, seated on his throne, let out a disgusted snort, as if the mere mention of the name made him uneasy: "Indeed! And that woman always carries that lingering scent of Dorn, you can smell it across the hall, it's nauseating!"

Varys smiled sinisterly, a smile seemingly shrouded in shadow. "The North. We should do everything in our power to bring Prince Rhaegar and Lady Lyanna Stark together." His slender fingers tapped lightly in the air, as if weaving invisible threads. "This will not only channel the North's potential goodwill towards the royal family, but also sever once and for all the strong alliance between the Starks and Baratheons forged through Lady Lyanna and Lord Robert. Let their internal marriage become our weapon."

Lord Mariewes, Hand of the King, frowned, his doubts deepening: "That little she-wolf from the North? This—"

How can we arrange this? Marriage is no child's play!

"Heh heh heh," Varys chuckled softly, a low, knowing laugh. Despite being a eunuch, his observations were exceptionally sharp. "While I cannot comprehend the emotions of ordinary people, my eyes see very clearly. At the banquet, the way Lady Lyanna gazed at Prince Rhaegar was no ordinary admiration. And the look our prince returned—" He paused deliberately, creating an ambiguous atmosphere, "—contained a heat that could melt the hardest ice. It was a flame of love capable of burning away all reason."

Count Marie Weiss remained deeply apprehensive: "But Prince Rhaegar's character—he has always valued honor and promises. Would he agree to divorce the princess of Dorne first, and then immediately pursue a lady already engaged to the Duke of Stormlands? This—this is too much—"

King Iris II, seated on his throne, impatiently waved his hand, interrupting his questioning. His voice carried an undeniable air of authority: "He will agree. I will personally 'convince' him. This matter is settled."

Varys's voice remained soft, yet it cut to the heart of the matter with the precision of a cold dagger: "The Iron Islands. King Coron is aging, and his eldest son, Balon, though valiant, lacks strategy. We can secretly extend an olive branch to his younger brother, Euron Greyjoy, promising him the royal support to replace his brother as heir to the Iron Islands." He leaned forward slightly, a calculating glint in his eyes. "The Greyjoy warriors and their longship fleet will become a deadly blade, silently piercing the rear of any rebels from the sea. Even if Euron ultimately rejects our offer," he added slyly, "this will be enough to sow the seeds of suspicion and ambition between the brothers, triggering internal strife in the Iron Islands. In any case, we will benefit."

Lord Marie Weiss, the Hand of the King, pondered for a moment, then nodded: "Euron—that little sea monster? Hmm, I've seen him, at that tournament. He's certainly a clever man, and more importantly, he has an undisguised ambition in his eyes. He's not one to be subservient to others."

King Iris II, seated on his throne, let out a cold snort of utter disgust, his face filled with contempt: "Those Ironborn pirates who worship the drowning god? Uncouth barbarians! In my opinion, we should send the royal fleet to raze those cold, rocky islands to the ground and end it all!"

Varys immediately bowed, his tone humble yet undeniably pragmatic: "Your Majesty, please calm your anger. Your fury is enough to incinerate the seas and boil rocks, but perhaps this matter can be postponed. Once the current situation stabilizes and the monarchy is consolidated, we will have more measured and thorough methods to deal with the Iron Islands. For now, their power may still be of our use."

"Highgarden." Varys's gaze swept over the names on the parchment, finally settling on "Velas Tyrell." "The heir to Highgarden, young Master Velas. He happens to have a jousting match tomorrow with Prince Oberyn Martell of Dorne. With a little manipulation of his horse's saddle or fodder, he'll be unexpectedly" killed on the field—and the Tyrell family will instantly be plunged into a vacuum of succession and chaos. At that time, even with all her shrewdness and cunning, Lady Olenna Tyrell, Queen of the Thorns, will be preoccupied with internal sorrow and strife, leaving her no time for anything else."

Upon hearing this, Chancellor of the Exchequer Colton Chester immediately stepped forward, his voice low and firm: "This matter can be arranged by me. There happen to be two men at the stables responsible for the fodder and feeding of the warhorses, and loyalty—can be bought."

Varys nodded approvingly, then changed the subject, revealing a deeper scheme: "Of course, murdering the heir is merely the most direct method, or rather, a safeguard to ensure they don't get in the way. Highgarden's attitude has always been ambiguous, like a reed in the wind, never truly committed to joining either side. Perhaps we could try a gentler approach to win them over."

Aerys II interrupted impatiently, "Win them over? How? The Tyrells are richer than a kingdom; what do they want?"

“They want what was taken from them, Your Majesty,” Varys said softly. “Didn’t the Iron Islands seize the wine trade that rightfully belonged to Greentree by force? We can, in the name of the King and the Royal Council, uphold justice and return this lucrative business to Highgarden. Even if this proposal ultimately fails to materialize for various reasons, it will be enough to sow seeds of suspicion and resentment between the Iron Islands and Highgarden. Either way, it will be in the best interests of the Royal Family.”

King Iris II laughed heartily: "Very good! What a lousy name! Sea Monster Wine, Sea Monster Wine, it sounds like something out of a salty, pungent pot! Green Pavilion Island Wine sounds much better!"

Varys leaned slightly forward, his voice gliding through the silent air like silk: "The Vale. Lord Jon Arryn is getting old and has no legitimate heir, which is an excellent opportunity. We can secretly push for Ser Essen Arryn, a member of the Arryn family branch in Seagull Town, to become the recognized legal heir to the Warden of the East."

King Aerys II scoffed, "Eisen Erin? Hmph, a knight from a remote branch. His reputation and influence in the Vale are like a firefly compared to the Duke of the Eyrie—far inferior!"

“You are absolutely right, Your Majesty,” Varys replied calmly, without denying it. “Ser Essen’s influence is naturally incomparable to that of Lord Jon Snow, who has ruled the Vale for many years. But that is precisely why he needs our support more and will be more reliant on the grace of the Iron Throne. Our aim is not to have him replace Lord Jon Snow immediately, but to cast a divisive stone.”

He continued, a calculating glint in his eyes: "Simply by spreading the word that we support Ser Essen's right to the throne, we will create a great strife among the Vale nobility. Some will see an opportunity and choose to align themselves with the future we support; others will resolutely defend Lord Jon's authority. Then, Lord Jon Arryn will have to devote all his energy to dealing with internal challenges and dissent, and consolidating his rule."

Varys concluded with a chilling satisfaction: "When the Vale is embroiled in its own power struggles and chaos over the succession, they won't have the time or ability to meddle in external affairs and cause trouble for Your Majesty."

One by one, cold and precise calculations unfolded under the candlelight, like a giant poison net, quietly enveloping the jubilant allies.

Count Mariewes, the Hand of the King, turned his gaze to King Iris II on the throne, his voice tinged with barely concealed worry. He concluded in a low voice, "Your Majesty, the plan has been drawn up, but the final key—still rests on Prince Rhaegar. If he is unwilling to cooperate, or—" He hesitated, not uttering the worst possibility, "—all the plans may come to naught."

A fleeting, unfathomable light flashed in Iris II's manic eyes. He waved his hand, his nails yellowed, interrupting the count, his tone carrying an overbearing, unquestionable certainty: "He is my son. I know him."

His voice suddenly hardened, ending the conspiracy: "You may all step back. Proceed as agreed tonight. Varys, have your little birds keep a close watch on those traitors. I need to know their every move!"