Chapter 179: The Legacy of Love (II)
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Chapter 179: The Legacy of Love (II)
Continuous POV Duncan
Great reception hall of the Never Winter Bank.
Seconds after a mental battle was fought...
-----
I was mentally challenged. I had to use a good portion of Lay of Hands to recover. Casting Lesser Restoration wasn't that useful. I definitely had an exhausted malus. I needed good Sleep or Greater Restoration for a full recovery.
For the 314th time, Zick had kicked my ass... but at least I had managed to last nine seconds longer than in the 313th duel.
The Old Man hadn't held back, slaughtering me on almost every front. Although I possessed a higher raw will than The Watcher, that inhuman individual possessed unparalleled control and mastery. It was like a military cadet, armed with a machine gun and bazooka, being stoned to death by a stone-throwing Grandmaster...
The mental technique taught to me by Zick was a modified branch of legilimancy/occlumancy, a very similar mental art, created by his own hand and remodelled to suit the needs of a Non-Incantor.
An art that Zick practised every day for pure enjoyment. It was his only means of dealing with every possible opponent in his imagination.
The Watcher was a genius without equal in martial art.
In the Real World, Chai Duq was recognised as the undisputed 'King among Mages'. But, had Zick not been cursed by his debilitating physical limitations, he would undoubtedly be recognised from every corner of the globe as 'King among Warriors'.
"No complaints about creativity and initiative, but you still lack stability and stamina. Your flow, however commendably unpredictable, must not result in Chaos... Even the most impervious storms follow their own harmony. Focus more on finding and navigating your own, Duncan." New novel chapters are published on
With every defeat, there always followed a lesson to be learned.
"I will, master... Thank you for the lesson." I replied.
"And...? You forget something, I think." The hypocritical old butcher wanted his pound of flesh...
"I lost. 'I admit my defeat', oh my 'Loving Master'. [Glory and Praise to thee, Zick, that of the best master-at-arms, there is none to be seen.] ...Satisfied now?"
"Ha ha! More than satisfied! Take care, lad, and keep pursuing the path of poetry. I expect a new and original sonnet at your next defeat...! Talk about rewards! On the last moon, we upped the ante. So, as agreed, you owe me a secret... And, this time, you won't get away with your cheap tricks. I want some juicy information. Something to keep me up all night." Zick demanded his second tribute.
"Mmm... I wouldn't know what to choose, Master. I could even get you a couple of cardiac arrests if you wanted... Any particular request?" So many times, Zick could have investigated my true nature. So many truths could have been extracted from me by force. But never once, in seven long years, did The Watcher ask anything about my... 'past'.
"Well, well... Indeed there is. But let's stick to the subject of 'Legacy'." For a few moments, I looked at the mischievous foxy grin of that naive fake old man and nodded. "Ask away, Master. If it is my chance, I will clarify your doubts."
"Even if you do not wish to take over my inheritance, you will still be obliged to do so one day. You cannot break the covenant you chose to accept, nor is it any longer my option, except in the event of your 'untimely death', to designate a new heir. Sooner or later, Duncan, whether you still want it or not, you will be the next Guardian of Love... So why do you have that victorious slapdash air of someone who has found a shortcut?" Before I answered, I made sure Zick was serious... He really was! I burst out laughing.
"Ahahahaha! But how? Has no one told you that yet? Not even the Kindly Man, Lo Tho or the Green King? Sprrzz... Puhahahah! You're the best, Master! Ahahah! I can hardly believe you really don't know!" Zick was astonished for a moment, then the frail, weak man grabbed me by the lapels of his doublet and demanded, tugging at me, "Know what? What do you know that I don't know?! Spit it out, you wretch!"
"Pff... Yes! Yes! I'll tell you. I'll tell you." The Watcher loosened his grip, waiting impatiently for the answer.
"Well, technically, it is true that the still extinguished torch of Love has passed to me. And that I, should the current Watcher perish or abdicate of his own free will, would be forced to fill that role... But no one forbids me from appointing a successor in my turn. My Heir'." I anticipated.
"But...! Only a Guardian in charge can designate an Heir...!" Zick turned to his first assistant, bodyguard and trusted advisor... Ramas shook his head, implicitly replying, "Both Duncan and the noble Duq have the right to nominate an Heir-Designate in their turn and, eventually, choose to pass their office directly to said chosen one, should both parties agree and the Heir possesses the necessary age of majority for the nomination..." Ramas added, "You never asked me, Master... I thought you knew."
"... Oh, dear me. Zishua will escort me alive..." Then Zick turned to me again with an accusing index finger pointing. "And you, you devious mad-double-crosser, have you chosen anyone yet! Who?"
"No one!... 'Yet'... I have two or three possible candidates in mind, but it will still take time. So you'll still have to hold out for a few more years, Master, and make sure you eat more vegetables and keep fit." The joke was not received in the spirit I had expected.
The playful and jovial Guardian of Love now demanded seriousness...
"...I cannot take on that role, Master. Only the integration of Free Folk will take years, and most of my attention will always be on these lands. I have sown my own wind in the North and throughout Westeros. Soon, a storm, ready to strike the First Men, will be reaped. At the very least, I must stay until the end to face the consequences of my actions... " Then I continued ", my possible candidate is filled with untapped potential. And you will guide him towards that possible path."
Zick asked, "So, will this 'possible' candidate be part of my small rewards circle?" The agreement sealed by my Uncle Leobald with the Spider Queen stipulated that I could choose half from among those twenty-six impending future disciples of The Watcher.
"Of course. He or she will have the best teacher in the world at his or her side. The best guide. But, in each, the choice to take that path will be in their hands. " The Watcher provided a glimmer of a smile.
Benfred was a natural talent on the dance floor. My brother knew how to move, keep time and guide his dame, learn each step with ease, improvise without overdoing it, and at the same time, maintain the poise of a proper nobleman...
"What can you tell me about Tywin Lannister, Master? Barbrey thinks I am a fool to put so much faith in the man... What do you think?" I asked in a low voice.
"Hmm... Hard to answer that. When talking about you, one would have to redefine the concept of 'Madness'." After the little ironic quip, Zick added, "that man has suffered vast setbacks of disappointment and pain throughout his life. Traumas that have forced him to wear, in perpetuity, a solid, impermeable armour...
You managed to create a crack in the Old Lion's adamantine armour and win some of his respect, but trust will take much longer.
The Lion's survival instinct keeps roaring at him not to trust anyone.
...For the moment, Tywin Lannister is more of a spectator in deep contemplation and waiting... He is waiting for life to show him that all his pillars of belief have been erected on the wrong foundation.
The coming years will be decisive for the final decision of the Head of House Lannister. But whatever path he chooses, he will walk it to the end, never looking back.
... In summary, my boy, your plan holds its fair share of a gamble." I carefully contemplated the analysis of the world's best observer.
"Far be it from me to call myself the best person to ask you this question... But why did you choose him? Why not go for Kevan, Gerion or Tyrion? You have more control over the future choices of those palpable candidates for the Throne of the West." Zick asked with eager curiosity.
"I could give you a hundred different answers, Master, but the one you seek is the same, for which I chose Barbrey as Westeros' Queen of Shadows Candidate...
An inalienable factor that compels me to tread unpredictable paths that rises above all other rational or instinctive deduction, and that will perhaps, one day, decree my doom..." The Watcher waited for the longed-for answer.
"Because he deserves it."
Zick peered at me with a quick analytical glance, and then the elderly man smiled, replying, "A good answer."
"It's normal. I have a good teacher," then... suppressing my reluctance, I added, "you may set that meeting, Guardian of Love. I will meet Lord Leyton at a time and place that suits him."
"Very Good. I will arrange the meeting for the morning after the end of the second tournament event.
You and Lord Leyton will meet in my manor, alone and undisturbed." The old fox had already set up pens and inkwells. Zick had calculated everything. He knew I would accept!
"Before the joust? Doesn't that seem a little too imminent a meeting?" I asked calmly, showing no signs of wanting to back out.
"No, it's perfect, instead. Better to get terms down on paper first. There is a risk that more egregious situations may arise than we had anticipated.
Lord Leyton will come to you with a 'Sincere' proposal for peace. I would like you to listen to it, always showing respect and courtesy to the Protector of the High Council Andalus. The same reverence you would show the Overlord of Carcosa.... Do we understand each other?" I nodded, swallowing a small sob of contempt.
Oldtown was not easy to deal with. Not after my intelligence lifted the immaculate Andalus facade carpet, showing glimpses of the filth and dust piled underneath.
For goodness' sake, the Wizarding Confederacy was certainly no slouch, nor were the Andals strictly 'worse' than the Ghiscarians, Braavosians or Dothraki, but Qyburn's latest reports still haunted my dreams.
"Wouldn't the Chief Sorcerer of the Confederacy be angrier with me if he knew that his 'Possible Ally of the North' dealt with his arch-enemy first rather than with him?" I asked, eyeing the world's second deadliest individual.
Even now, despite months of preparation, I felt considerable anxiety about the long-awaited meeting between The King in The Yellow and myself...
At every opportunity, those ruthless, genial eyes tried to undermine my determination, constantly putting me under pressure.
Humility aside, I was certainly not one to be frightened lightly. But Duq of the Chai dynasty made me break out in a cold sweat. Even my well-chained and Silent Demon would roar out from time to time {Don't-Antagonize-That-Monster! He is not Prey in Our Grasp! Keep Away From Him, Brat!!}
First Emperor among men and then King among Wizards. The past of that semi-divine being was a legend within the legend.
''I will take care of Chai. For now, just focus on tomorrow's event."
Zick concluded, "The Keeper of Magic is somewhat untraceable as of late, but I have already regaled the Keeper of Beauty. The Lord of Winterfell and the other members of the Green Council grant you full representative authority... Prepare yourself, my boy, for when you deal with Lord Hightower, you will speak as the First Men's High Spokesman."
*****
End Chapter.
--------
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Chapter 179: The Legacy of Love (II)
Continuous POV Duncan
Great reception hall of the Never Winter Bank.
Seconds after a mental battle was fought...
-----
I was mentally challenged. I had to use a good portion of Lay of Hands to recover. Casting Lesser Restoration wasn't that useful. I definitely had an exhausted malus. I needed good Sleep or Greater Restoration for a full recovery.
For the 314th time, Zick had kicked my ass... but at least I had managed to last nine seconds longer than in the 313th duel.
The Old Man hadn't held back, slaughtering me on almost every front. Although I possessed a higher raw will than The Watcher, that inhuman individual possessed unparalleled control and mastery. It was like a military cadet, armed with a machine gun and bazooka, being stoned to death by a stone-throwing Grandmaster...
The mental technique taught to me by Zick was a modified branch of legilimancy/occlumancy, a very similar mental art, created by his own hand and remodelled to suit the needs of a Non-Incantor.
An art that Zick practised every day for pure enjoyment. It was his only means of dealing with every possible opponent in his imagination.
The Watcher was a genius without equal in martial art.
In the Real World, Chai Duq was recognised as the undisputed 'King among Mages'. But, had Zick not been cursed by his debilitating physical limitations, he would undoubtedly be recognised from every corner of the globe as 'King among Warriors'.
"No complaints about creativity and initiative, but you still lack stability and stamina. Your flow, however commendably unpredictable, must not result in Chaos... Even the most impervious storms follow their own harmony. Focus more on finding and navigating your own, Duncan." New novel chapters are published on
With every defeat, there always followed a lesson to be learned.
"I will, master... Thank you for the lesson." I replied.
"And...? You forget something, I think." The hypocritical old butcher wanted his pound of flesh...
"I lost. 'I admit my defeat', oh my 'Loving Master'. [Glory and Praise to thee, Zick, that of the best master-at-arms, there is none to be seen.] ...Satisfied now?"
"Ha ha! More than satisfied! Take care, lad, and keep pursuing the path of poetry. I expect a new and original sonnet at your next defeat...! Talk about rewards! On the last moon, we upped the ante. So, as agreed, you owe me a secret... And, this time, you won't get away with your cheap tricks. I want some juicy information. Something to keep me up all night." Zick demanded his second tribute.
"Mmm... I wouldn't know what to choose, Master. I could even get you a couple of cardiac arrests if you wanted... Any particular request?" So many times, Zick could have investigated my true nature. So many truths could have been extracted from me by force. But never once, in seven long years, did The Watcher ask anything about my... 'past'.
"Well, well... Indeed there is. But let's stick to the subject of 'Legacy'." For a few moments, I looked at the mischievous foxy grin of that naive fake old man and nodded. "Ask away, Master. If it is my chance, I will clarify your doubts."
"Even if you do not wish to take over my inheritance, you will still be obliged to do so one day. You cannot break the covenant you chose to accept, nor is it any longer my option, except in the event of your 'untimely death', to designate a new heir. Sooner or later, Duncan, whether you still want it or not, you will be the next Guardian of Love... So why do you have that victorious slapdash air of someone who has found a shortcut?" Before I answered, I made sure Zick was serious... He really was! I burst out laughing.
"Ahahahaha! But how? Has no one told you that yet? Not even the Kindly Man, Lo Tho or the Green King? Sprrzz... Puhahahah! You're the best, Master! Ahahah! I can hardly believe you really don't know!" Zick was astonished for a moment, then the frail, weak man grabbed me by the lapels of his doublet and demanded, tugging at me, "Know what? What do you know that I don't know?! Spit it out, you wretch!"
"Pff... Yes! Yes! I'll tell you. I'll tell you." The Watcher loosened his grip, waiting impatiently for the answer.
"Well, technically, it is true that the still extinguished torch of Love has passed to me. And that I, should the current Watcher perish or abdicate of his own free will, would be forced to fill that role... But no one forbids me from appointing a successor in my turn. My Heir'." I anticipated.
"But...! Only a Guardian in charge can designate an Heir...!" Zick turned to his first assistant, bodyguard and trusted advisor... Ramas shook his head, implicitly replying, "Both Duncan and the noble Duq have the right to nominate an Heir-Designate in their turn and, eventually, choose to pass their office directly to said chosen one, should both parties agree and the Heir possesses the necessary age of majority for the nomination..." Ramas added, "You never asked me, Master... I thought you knew."
"... Oh, dear me. Zishua will escort me alive..." Then Zick turned to me again with an accusing index finger pointing. "And you, you devious mad-double-crosser, have you chosen anyone yet! Who?"
"No one!... 'Yet'... I have two or three possible candidates in mind, but it will still take time. So you'll still have to hold out for a few more years, Master, and make sure you eat more vegetables and keep fit." The joke was not received in the spirit I had expected.
The playful and jovial Guardian of Love now demanded seriousness...
"...I cannot take on that role, Master. Only the integration of Free Folk will take years, and most of my attention will always be on these lands. I have sown my own wind in the North and throughout Westeros. Soon, a storm, ready to strike the First Men, will be reaped. At the very least, I must stay until the end to face the consequences of my actions... " Then I continued ", my possible candidate is filled with untapped potential. And you will guide him towards that possible path."
Zick asked, "So, will this 'possible' candidate be part of my small rewards circle?" The agreement sealed by my Uncle Leobald with the Spider Queen stipulated that I could choose half from among those twenty-six impending future disciples of The Watcher.
"Of course. He or she will have the best teacher in the world at his or her side. The best guide. But, in each, the choice to take that path will be in their hands. " The Watcher provided a glimmer of a smile.
Benfred was a natural talent on the dance floor. My brother knew how to move, keep time and guide his dame, learn each step with ease, improvise without overdoing it, and at the same time, maintain the poise of a proper nobleman...
"What can you tell me about Tywin Lannister, Master? Barbrey thinks I am a fool to put so much faith in the man... What do you think?" I asked in a low voice.
"Hmm... Hard to answer that. When talking about you, one would have to redefine the concept of 'Madness'." After the little ironic quip, Zick added, "that man has suffered vast setbacks of disappointment and pain throughout his life. Traumas that have forced him to wear, in perpetuity, a solid, impermeable armour...
You managed to create a crack in the Old Lion's adamantine armour and win some of his respect, but trust will take much longer.
The Lion's survival instinct keeps roaring at him not to trust anyone.
...For the moment, Tywin Lannister is more of a spectator in deep contemplation and waiting... He is waiting for life to show him that all his pillars of belief have been erected on the wrong foundation.
The coming years will be decisive for the final decision of the Head of House Lannister. But whatever path he chooses, he will walk it to the end, never looking back.
... In summary, my boy, your plan holds its fair share of a gamble." I carefully contemplated the analysis of the world's best observer.
"Far be it from me to call myself the best person to ask you this question... But why did you choose him? Why not go for Kevan, Gerion or Tyrion? You have more control over the future choices of those palpable candidates for the Throne of the West." Zick asked with eager curiosity.
"I could give you a hundred different answers, Master, but the one you seek is the same, for which I chose Barbrey as Westeros' Queen of Shadows Candidate...
An inalienable factor that compels me to tread unpredictable paths that rises above all other rational or instinctive deduction, and that will perhaps, one day, decree my doom..." The Watcher waited for the longed-for answer.
"Because he deserves it."
Zick peered at me with a quick analytical glance, and then the elderly man smiled, replying, "A good answer."
"It's normal. I have a good teacher," then... suppressing my reluctance, I added, "you may set that meeting, Guardian of Love. I will meet Lord Leyton at a time and place that suits him."
"Very Good. I will arrange the meeting for the morning after the end of the second tournament event.
You and Lord Leyton will meet in my manor, alone and undisturbed." The old fox had already set up pens and inkwells. Zick had calculated everything. He knew I would accept!
"Before the joust? Doesn't that seem a little too imminent a meeting?" I asked calmly, showing no signs of wanting to back out.
"No, it's perfect, instead. Better to get terms down on paper first. There is a risk that more egregious situations may arise than we had anticipated.
Lord Leyton will come to you with a 'Sincere' proposal for peace. I would like you to listen to it, always showing respect and courtesy to the Protector of the High Council Andalus. The same reverence you would show the Overlord of Carcosa.... Do we understand each other?" I nodded, swallowing a small sob of contempt.
Oldtown was not easy to deal with. Not after my intelligence lifted the immaculate Andalus facade carpet, showing glimpses of the filth and dust piled underneath.
For goodness' sake, the Wizarding Confederacy was certainly no slouch, nor were the Andals strictly 'worse' than the Ghiscarians, Braavosians or Dothraki, but Qyburn's latest reports still haunted my dreams.
"Wouldn't the Chief Sorcerer of the Confederacy be angrier with me if he knew that his 'Possible Ally of the North' dealt with his arch-enemy first rather than with him?" I asked, eyeing the world's second deadliest individual.
Even now, despite months of preparation, I felt considerable anxiety about the long-awaited meeting between The King in The Yellow and myself...
At every opportunity, those ruthless, genial eyes tried to undermine my determination, constantly putting me under pressure.
Humility aside, I was certainly not one to be frightened lightly. But Duq of the Chai dynasty made me break out in a cold sweat. Even my well-chained and Silent Demon would roar out from time to time {Don't-Antagonize-That-Monster! He is not Prey in Our Grasp! Keep Away From Him, Brat!!}
First Emperor among men and then King among Wizards. The past of that semi-divine being was a legend within the legend.
''I will take care of Chai. For now, just focus on tomorrow's event."
Zick concluded, "The Keeper of Magic is somewhat untraceable as of late, but I have already regaled the Keeper of Beauty. The Lord of Winterfell and the other members of the Green Council grant you full representative authority... Prepare yourself, my boy, for when you deal with Lord Hightower, you will speak as the First Men's High Spokesman."
*****
End Chapter.
--------
Chapter 179: The Legacy of Love IIContinuous POV Duncan Great reception hall of the Never Winter Bank. Seconds after a mental battle was fought... ----- I was mentally challenged. I had to use a good portion of Lay of Hands to recover. Casting Lesser Restoration wasn't that useful. I definitely had an exhausted malus. I needed good Sleep or Greater Restoration for a full recovery. For the 314th time, Zick had kicked my ass... but at least I had managed to last nine seconds longer than in the 313th duel. The Old Man hadn't held back, slaughtering me on almost every front. Although I possessed a higher raw will than The Watcher, that inhuman individual possessed unparalleled control and mastery. It was like a military cadet, armed with a machine gun and bazooka, being stoned to death by a stone-throwing Grandmaster... The mental technique taught to me by Zick was a modified branch of legilimancy/occlumancy, a very similar mental art, created by his own hand and remodelled to suit the needs of a Non-Incantor. An art that Zick practised every day for pure enjoyment. It was his only means of dealing with every possible opponent in his imagination. The Watcher was a genius without equal in martial art. In the Real World, Chai Duq was recognised as the undisputed 'King among Mages'. But, had Zick not been cursed by his debilitating physical limitations, he would undoubtedly be recognised from every corner of the globe as 'King among Warriors'. "No complaints about creativity and initiative, but you still lack stability and stamina. Your flow, however commendably unpredictable, must not result in Chaos... Even the most impervious storms follow their own harmony. Focus more on finding and navigating your own, Duncan." New novel chapters are published onWith every defeat, there always followed a lesson to be learned. "I will, master... Thank you for the lesson." I replied. "And...? You forget something, I think." The hypocritical old butcher wanted his pound of flesh... "I lost. 'I admit my defeat', oh my 'Loving Master'. Glory and Praise to thee, Zick, that of the best master-at-arms, there is none to be seen. ...Satisfied now?" "Ha ha! More than satisfied! Take care, lad, and keep pursuing the path of poetry. I expect a new and original sonnet at your next defeat...! Talk about rewards! On the last moon, we upped the ante. So, as agreed, you owe me a secret... And, this time, you won't get away with your cheap tricks. I want some juicy information. Something to keep me up all night." Zick demanded his second tribute. "Mmm... I wouldn't know what to choose, Master. I could even get you a couple of cardiac arrests if you wanted... Any particular request?" So many times, Zick could have investigated my true nature. So many truths could have been extracted from me by force. But never once, in seven long years, did The Watcher ask anything about my... 'past'. "Well, well... Indeed there is. But let's stick to the subject of 'Legacy'." For a few moments, I looked at the mischievous foxy grin of that naive fake old man and nodded. "Ask away, Master. If it is my chance, I will clarify your doubts." "Even if you do not wish to take over my inheritance, you will still be obliged to do so one day. You cannot break the covenant you chose to accept, nor is it any longer my option, except in the event of your 'untimely death', to designate a new heir. Sooner or later, Duncan, whether you still want it or not, you will be the next Guardian of Love... So why do you have that victorious slapdash air of someone who has found a shortcut?" Before I answered, I made sure Zick was serious... He really was! I burst out laughing. "Ahahahaha! But how? Has no one told you that yet? Not even the Kindly Man, Lo Tho or the Green King? Sprrzz... Puhahahah! You're the best, Master! Ahahah! I can hardly believe you really don't know!" Zick was astonished for a moment, then the frail, weak man grabbed me by the lapels of his doublet and demanded, tugging at me, "Know what? What do you know that I don't know?! Spit it out, you wretch!" "Pff... Yes! Yes! I'll tell you. I'll tell you." The Watcher loosened his grip, waiting impatiently for the answer. "Well, technically, it is true that the still extinguished torch of Love has passed to me. And that I, should the current Watcher perish or abdicate of his own free will, would be forced to fill that role... But no one forbids me from appointing a successor in my turn. My Heir'." I anticipated. "But...! Only a Guardian in charge can designate an Heir...!" Zick turned to his first assistant, bodyguard and trusted advisor... Ramas shook his head, implicitly replying, "Both Duncan and the noble Duq have the right to nominate an Heir-Designate in their turn and, eventually, choose to pass their office directly to said chosen one, should both parties agree and the Heir possesses the necessary age of majority for the nomination..." Ramas added, "You never asked me, Master... I thought you knew." "... Oh, dear me. Zishua will escort me alive..." Then Zick turned to me again with an accusing index finger pointing. "And you, you devious mad-double-crosser, have you chosen anyone yet! Who?" "No one!... 'Yet'... I have two or three possible candidates in mind, but it will still take time. So you'll still have to hold out for a few more years, Master, and make sure you eat more vegetables and keep fit." The joke was not received in the spirit I had expected. The playful and jovial Guardian of Love now demanded seriousness... "...I cannot take on that role, Master. Only the integration of Free Folk will take years, and most of my attention will always be on these lands. I have sown my own wind in the North and throughout Westeros. Soon, a storm, ready to strike the First Men, will be reaped. At the very least, I must stay until the end to face the consequences of my actions... " Then I continued ", my possible candidate is filled with untapped potential. And you will guide him towards that possible path." Zick asked, "So, will this 'possible' candidate be part of my small rewards circle?" The agreement sealed by my Uncle Leobald with the Spider Queen stipulated that I could choose half from among those twenty-six impending future disciples of The Watcher. "Of course. He or she will have the best teacher in the world at his or her side. The best guide. But, in each, the choice to take that path will be in their hands. " The Watcher provided a glimmer of a smile. Benfred was a natural talent on the dance floor. My brother knew how to move, keep time and guide his dame, learn each step with ease, improvise without overdoing it, and at the same time, maintain the poise of a proper nobleman... "What can you tell me about Tywin Lannister, Master? Barbrey thinks I am a fool to put so much faith in the man... What do you think?" I asked in a low voice. "Hmm... Hard to answer that. When talking about you, one would have to redefine the concept of 'Madness'." After the little ironic quip, Zick added, "that man has suffered vast setbacks of disappointment and pain throughout his life. Traumas that have forced him to wear, in perpetuity, a solid, impermeable armour... You managed to create a crack in the Old Lion's adamantine armour and win some of his respect, but trust will take much longer. The Lion's survival instinct keeps roaring at him not to trust anyone. ...For the moment, Tywin Lannister is more of a spectator in deep contemplation and waiting... He is waiting for life to show him that all his pillars of belief have been erected on the wrong foundation. The coming years will be decisive for the final decision of the Head of House Lannister. But whatever path he chooses, he will walk it to the end, never looking back. ... In summary, my boy, your plan holds its fair share of a gamble." I carefully contemplated the analysis of the world's best observer. "Far be it from me to call myself the best person to ask you this question... But why did you choose him? Why not go for Kevan, Gerion or Tyrion? You have more control over the future choices of those palpable candidates for the Throne of the West." Zick asked with eager curiosity. "I could give you a hundred different answers, Master, but the one you seek is the same, for which I chose Barbrey as Westeros' Queen of Shadows Candidate... An inalienable factor that compels me to tread unpredictable paths that rises above all other rational or instinctive deduction, and that will perhaps, one day, decree my doom..." The Watcher waited for the longed-for answer. "Because he deserves it." Zick peered at me with a quick analytical glance, and then the elderly man smiled, replying, "A good answer." "It's normal. I have a good teacher," then... suppressing my reluctance, I added, "you may set that meeting, Guardian of Love. I will meet Lord Leyton at a time and place that suits him." "Very Good. I will arrange the meeting for the morning after the end of the second tournament event. You and Lord Leyton will meet in my manor, alone and undisturbed." The old fox had already set up pens and inkwells. Zick had calculated everything. He knew I would accept! "Before the joust? Doesn't that seem a little too imminent a meeting?" I asked calmly, showing no signs of wanting to back out. "No, it's perfect, instead. Better to get terms down on paper first. There is a risk that more egregious situations may arise than we had anticipated. Lord Leyton will come to you with a 'Sincere' proposal for peace. I would like you to listen to it, always showing respect and courtesy to the Protector of the High Council Andalus. The same reverence you would show the Overlord of Carcosa.... Do we understand each other?" I nodded, swallowing a small sob of contempt. Oldtown was not easy to deal with. Not after my intelligence lifted the immaculate Andalus facade carpet, showing glimpses of the filth and dust piled underneath. For goodness' sake, the Wizarding Confederacy was certainly no slouch, nor were the Andals strictly 'worse' than the Ghiscarians, Braavosians or Dothraki, but Qyburn's latest reports still haunted my dreams. "Wouldn't the Chief Sorcerer of the Confederacy be angrier with me if he knew that his 'Possible Ally of the North' dealt with his arch-enemy first rather than with him?" I asked, eyeing the world's second deadliest individual. Even now, despite months of preparation, I felt considerable anxiety about the long-awaited meeting between The King in The Yellow and myself... At every opportunity, those ruthless, genial eyes tried to undermine my determination, constantly putting me under pressure. Humility aside, I was certainly not one to be frightened lightly. But Duq of the Chai dynasty made me break out in a cold sweat. Even my well-chained and Silent Demon would roar out from time to time {Don't-Antagonize-That-Monster! He is not Prey in Our Grasp! Keep Away From Him, Brat!!} First Emperor among men and then King among Wizards. The past of that semi-divine being was a legend within the legend. ''I will take care of Chai. For now, just focus on tomorrow's event." Zick concluded, "The Keeper of Magic is somewhat untraceable as of late, but I have already regaled the Keeper of Beauty. The Lord of Winterfell and the other members of the Green Council grant you full representative authority... Prepare yourself, my boy, for when you deal with Lord Hightower, you will speak as the First Men's High Spokesman." ***** End Chapter. --------
