Grand Maester Pycelle

"You are awake." Alden, who had been teasing Glory, heard movement from the bed and turned. The young woman who had been unconscious for two days had opened her eyes and was staring blankly around her. "Do not move. Your wounds have not fully healed. If you move too much, they will open again."

The young woman gave no response. She only turned her head and stared straight at the top of the tent. Her eyes were filled with deadness, as though Alden had saved only a body while the soul inside it had already died.

It was no wonder she reacted this way. After Alden brought her back to camp and settled her in his tent, he had called Maester Holley, the camp's accompanying healer, to treat her.

After examining her, Maester Holley found that the young woman's injuries were far too severe. She had many broken bones and internal injuries he could not fully assess. Worst of all, her most intimate injuries were brutal enough that her still breathing seemed like a miracle.

Maester Holley used every bit of medical knowledge he possessed to save her, but even then he could not guarantee she would live. In his words, all they could do was pray to the Mother and hope her mercy would fall on the woman.

Alden said nothing to that. In his view, bringing the young woman back to camp and arranging treatment for her was already enough. If she still could not be saved, then it could only be said that this was her fate.

While Maester Holley treated the woman, Alden also examined Glory.

Although Glory had absorbed the coldness from the cracked dragon egg, Alden found nothing abnormal in the cub. The only possible change was that Glory's appetite had grown. Each meal it ate nearly its own body size in meat, and it needed four meals a day.

That was only its appetite as a cub. Once Glory grew up, it would likely eat even more. With Alden's current pay, he might not be able to keep up.

Training Glory to hunt for itself was therefore put on the agenda. Fortunately, his cavalry patrol was made up entirely of hunters. Capturing one or two live animals in the nearby woods was not difficult.

Over these two days, Alden had tried to let Glory hunt the live animals they caught whenever it was hungry, training its hunting ability.

Glory was a shadowcat. Even after being adopted by Alden, its ability to hunt remained as intact as its wildness.

The tourney began on schedule the day after the Red Keep feast. Because there were far too many entrants, the schedule had to be lengthened. The archery contest, which would normally have finished in one day, was stretched to two. After a morning of competition, only fifty-six archers remained. The champion archer would likely be decided that afternoon.

Every gambling den in King's Landing had begun taking wagers. Some nobles had opened their own betting pools as well. The largest of all was the pool opened in the name of the Iron Throne by Lord Jon Arryn, the Hand of the King.

King Robert did not care about money, but Lord Arryn, as steward of the realm, had to find ways to fill the hole in the treasury created by the tourney. The easiest short-term method was naturally to open a betting pool and become the house.

The income from the wagers might not fully fill the hole, but at least it would keep this year's accounts from looking quite so ugly.

Because he was responsible for camp security, Alden had not left camp over the past two days to watch the tourney.

He had not been immune to the mood, however, and had placed a wager with his fellow soldiers. His choice was a Dornishman named Anguy.

In Alden's memory, during the tourney held more than ten years later to welcome Eddard Stark as Hand of the King, an archer named Anguy would become champion.

He did not think this Anguy necessarily had anything to do with the Anguy from more than ten years later, but he still chose him for the wager, if only for luck.

That luck clearly did not come. The Anguy he chose was eliminated in the first round that afternoon.

After several more rounds, the champion archer of this tourney proved to be a middle-aged man named Bryn Raven. It was said that he was on very good terms with Ser Brynden Tully, the famed archer of the riverlands, and that the two men's skill with a bow was comparable.

Although the archery contest had ended, the people's enthusiasm did not fall much. The melee would take place the next day, and melees had always been the deadliest tourney events. Blood and brutality were their theme, and naturally they were also the most entertaining to watch. Betting pools had already appeared over how many men would die in the melee.

House Tyrell had sent several of its best archers to the contest, but perhaps because they performed poorly, every Tyrell archer was eliminated in the first round.

That was obviously not something to celebrate. When Lord Mace Tyrell returned to camp with Garlan, the gloom on his face did not change.

This was Alden's first time seeing the Warden of the South and Lord of Highgarden. Although Alden had guessed beforehand what he might be like, seeing the barrel-bodied middle-aged man with his carefully trimmed beard did not leave him especially disappointed. If Alden had to describe Lord Mace in one word, the word would be mediocre.

Mediocre did not mean incompetent. In truth, Mace Tyrell was better than most noble lords. He only seemed so ordinary when compared with the other great lords of equal standing. Add to that his frequent fits of overheated thinking and decisions that ran against common sense, and he appeared unimpressive.

But if anyone truly treated Mace Tyrell as an easy man to push around, that person would certainly suffer for it in the end.

After returning to camp, Lord Mace summoned the men who would enter the melee the next day, asking some about their condition and encouraging others. To him, this tourney was an opportunity for House Tyrell to win renown. He did not know that the Queen of Thorns, far away in Highgarden, had no interest in this tourney at all and did not believe House Tyrell needed a tournament victory to make its name.

Because the lord of Highgarden had returned, the guards from House Tyrell's temporary residence in King's Landing and the lord's household guard also came to the camp. The guard work originally assigned to the camp was handed over to those men, leaving Alden with little to do.

Just as Alden was preparing to take several of his men and Glory to hunt in the nearby hills and woods, using the chance to train the cub, Maester Holley found him and said he hoped Alden would escort him into the city to see Grand Maester Pycelle.

Alden naturally did not refuse. He ordered Raul to look after the young woman he had rescued, changed into plain clothes, told Vortimer's attendant that he had business in the city, and followed Maester Holley down the slope of Lion Hill.

Counting the present King Robert, Grand Maester Pycelle had served four kings in the Red Keep. That gave him very high status in the eyes of some people there, perhaps even higher than the king's.

Because of that, after Robert took the Iron Throne, the Hand, Lord Arryn, specifically arranged a residence for Pycelle near the castle library. He had a road built near that residence leading directly outside the Red Keep, then purchased a house for the grand maester near the road, granting Pycelle the right to pass directly in and out of the castle. It showed great regard.

Over the past few years, Grand Maester Pycelle had also performed extremely well in helping King Robert stabilize the situation. Most notably, he helped bring about Robert's marriage to Cersei Lannister, drawing in powerful House Lannister and making the Iron Throne truly secure.

For that reason, he was very pleased to see Cersei become pregnant and give birth. When King Robert proposed holding a tourney in the child's name, Pycelle supported it. Yet these days he had not attended the feasts or watched the tourney. Instead, he remained in the library, organizing documents from the Targaryen dynasty and compiling a history of its reign.

In truth, as early as when he served as grand maester to Aegon the Fifth, Pycelle had wanted to write a history of the Targaryen dynasty. But the work involved many secret histories of the royal house that could not be made public. He had barely begun before Aegon the Fifth forbade it, and the kings after him successively prevented the project as well.

Even so, Grand Maester Pycelle never gave up. Over the years, he had continued collecting related materials, organizing them and storing them together, waiting for the day they might be used.

Now Robert Baratheon sat the Iron Throne. The Targaryen dynasty had ended, and the Baratheon dynasty was beginning. The secret histories of the Targaryen royal house were no longer forbidden.

Because King's Landing had fallen so quickly, many secret documents in the Red Keep had not been destroyed in time. Add to that some files Stannis Baratheon found on Dragonstone and certain Valyrian historical materials related to House Targaryen provided by House Velaryon of Driftmark, and Pycelle already had enough documents to complete his chronicle of the Targaryen dynasty.

The problem was that the amount of material was enormous, and much of it was complex and obscure. Many important documents were written in ciphered tongues or rare languages. For Pycelle, his assistants, and his students alone to sort them out would be extremely difficult. He needed other maesters skilled in historical compilation to join the work and complete this classic.

Among all the candidates who came to Grand Maester Pycelle's mind, one man seemed most suitable: Maester Holley.

At the Citadel, Maester Holley had been known for history. Whether the question concerned the family histories of great nobles or the changing history of Westeros itself, he could answer easily and in detail. During his studies, he had corrected errors and gaps in many older historical manuscripts more than once.

If Maester Holley's nature had not been so unsociable, if he had understood how to make friends and had not offended important figures at the Citadel and been forced to leave, then perhaps by now he would already have taken up the copper rod, donned the copper mask, and become an archmaester of history.

So when Pycelle found the historical documents too difficult to organize, he found an assistant maester under him who had a decent relationship with Holley and had that man invite Holley to help compile the Targaryen chronicle.

Holley quickly accepted the invitation and wrote back to the assistant maester, saying he would come to King's Landing with House Tyrell's party.

After receiving the reply, Grand Maester Pycelle waited for the Tyrell party to arrive. Yet when the party reached King's Landing several days earlier, the Maester Holley he awaited did not appear. That made Pycelle suspect something had happened to him.

He sent someone to the Tyrell camp to inquire and learned that Maester Holley was indeed in the camp, but had matters to handle and could not come see the grand maester yet.

Pycelle was somewhat displeased by Holley's attitude, but he did not truly become angry. To him, the most important matter was completing the history of the Targaryen dynasty.

After learning Holley's situation, he ordered the assistant maester to remain at his residence outside the Red Keep. Once Holley arrived, he was to be brought directly to Pycelle.

When Grand Maester Pycelle sorted documents, he liked to do it slowly and alone. He had sent all his servants out of the room, then sat at his desk, turning through the secret histories of the Targaryen royal house and quickly noting important points.

He did not know how long he had been working. Outside, the sky had gone dark. The candles in the room had burned low and were no longer good for reading.

Just as Pycelle closed the book and notes on his desk, preparing to rest and eat something, he saw that someone was standing beside him. He had no idea when the man had appeared.

Startled, Grand Maester Pycelle looked up warily. The hand inside his sleeve settled on the dagger hidden there.

In the dim candlelight, he saw a familiar face. Confusion came first. "Maester Henne, when did you return from Harrenhal? The documents I asked you to bring from Harrenhal..."

Halfway through his words, Pycelle suddenly sensed something wrong with the Maester Henne before him. He frowned, then seemed to think of something. His face darkened at once, and he said in a low voice, "How do you still dare to come back? His Grace's warrant has not been withdrawn. Anyone would hunt you for two thousand gold dragons. Instead of returning across the narrow sea, why remain in King's Landing? Do you still mean to assassinate the king?"

The man raised a hand, signaling Pycelle to be quiet, then said coldly, "Do not be nervous. I have no interest in your king. He is not on my list. I only came back to collect a debt you owe."

"When did I ever owe you a debt?" Grand Maester Pycelle knew very well how strong this man was. Resistance would be useless, so he drew his hand back out of his sleeve.

"You took my money, but you did not tell me that man was protected by four knights in heavy armor and a squad of archers. I nearly died there." The man's teeth clenched slightly. "Your intelligence was wrong and caused me serious harm. You must return half my payment and compensate me besides. Otherwise, I would not mind letting the Grand Maester sleep forever and never wake."

Grand Maester Pycelle was greedy for coin, but he understood that life mattered more than money. Faced with the man's threat, he could only compromise.

Just as he was about to agree to compensation, a servant knocked on the brass ring hanging on the door. "Grand Maester Pycelle, Maester Holley has arrived. Will you see him now?"

Grand Maester Pycelle hesitated. Then he signaled the man to remain silent and turned toward the door. "Let him in."

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