The Mountain of Ice and Fire

Chapter 726: The Fall of Aegon VI's Dynasty

"What plan?" The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Rollam Darke, asked in a heavy voice.

He was pessimistic about any plan to resist the Faceless Men's assassination.

Only the Lannisters, with their immense wealth, could afford such a large sum to assassinate Aegon Targaryen VI. That amount of money could probably rebuild a kingdom.

"Cersei is sending Lord Gawen Westerling, the Mountain's father-in-law, from the Westerlands with a hundred golden hero statues to Braavos. Which route would Gawen take?" Jon Connington's eyes gleamed.

His stern authority had returned to him.

"There are at least three routes," Grand Maester Haldon said. "The first is south from the Sunset Sea in the Westerlands, past Oldtown, through the Dornish Sea, and straight to Braavos. This is the route everyone would choose, the one all trade takes, and the one that captains from all over are familiar with."

"The second route is from the Westerlands along the river road, boarding a ship at Gulltown in the Vale to cross the Narrow Sea to Braavos. This is a combination of land and sea, with the shortest sea route, but with a thousand miles of land travel."

"The third route is north from the Sunset Sea in the Westerlands, past the Iron Islands, into the bogs of the Neck in the North, and with the guidance of the local crannogmen and mudmen, across the swamp, boarding a ship at White Harbor to cross the sea to Braavos. This route is the most unexpected, and the time and distance are also the shortest."

"No one can cross those hundreds of miles of swamp!" Jon Connington said. "The castle of Greywater Watch, guarding the Neck, is built on floating islands, and even the ravens of the North can't find it."

"But with the guidance of the local crannogmen and mudmen, Lord Gawen will easily cross the Neck," Grand Maester Haldon said decisively.

"Alright, I admit that's possible. The Mountain led his army north to help the Starks garrison Winterfell. The Starks of the North and the Mountain are allies. If Lord Gawen asks the Mountain for help, and the Mountain asks the Starks, the Starks will order the local crannogmen and mudmen to guide Lord Gawen," Jon said, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Even if we know that Gawen departed from Lannisport in the Westerlands, went north, passed the Iron Islands, and crossed the Neck in the North, how can we stop them?" asked Septa Lemore, the Mistress of Coin, her face full of worry.

Lemore, Rollam, Jon, and Haldon had accompanied Aegon Targaryen VI as he grew up. Their feelings for Aegon were more like those of parents for their children.

"We need Daenerys's dragons," Jon Connington said. "As long as Daenerys rides a dragon to scout, no matter which route Lord Gawen takes, he won't escape the dragon's eyes."

"If we seize the Lannisters' gold, their Faceless Men plan will naturally fail," Rollam Darke said, overjoyed. "Good idea! I knew nothing could stump the Hand of the King."

"With the Lannisters' gold, we can use it for military expenses, or we can use the money to hire the Faceless Men to assassinate our enemies. Cersei, Tommen, the Mountain, Stark—whoever is the biggest threat to us, we'll give their name to the Faceless Men."

"Grand Maester, release your ravens," Jon said. "There's no time to lose. We should act immediately."

"As you command, Hand of the King," Grand Maester Haldon said, never cracking a smile, as stiff as a board.

As long as they had Daenerys's dragons, Lord Gawen's gold would have nowhere to hide.

In the hall, the oppressive atmosphere disappeared, and smiles appeared on the faces of the courtiers and generals.

*

Night fell, in Aegon VI's study.

The king was with the Hand of the King.

Aegon VI took off the crown from his head. The crown made him uncomfortable. After a long time, his neck would stiffen, and it felt like he was carrying a heavy object on his head.

"Father, Cersei is not to be feared," Aegon VI changed back into Young Griff.

"Oh? Why?" Jon's face was stern as iron.

"If I were Cersei, since I wouldn't negotiate, I would never let you return."

"Cersei wanted me to send you a message."

"She could have sent any soldier back with a message, but you are my Hand, my most capable courtier, and the foster father who raised me. With you in her hands, Cersei would have more leverage to bargain with me."

Jon stared at Aegon. "Aegon, I was captured by Cersei. A dagger was held to my throat, threatening me to write a letter to you to release Ser Selwyn Tarth, while Black Balaq and Benethon lay at my feet. I was desperate and refused to be humiliated, so I chose to commit suicide."

"Suicide?" Aegon VI stared at Jon in shock. "Father, your character is too unyielding."

"I was forced to despair. Cersei told me that even if she signed a truce with us, she might forget it all a few heartbeats later."

Aegon was stunned. "Father, did she really say that?"

"Not a word was false!"

"How can the Lannisters be so shameless? Can they betray oaths and royal credibility at will?"

"Aegon! Cersei despises everything. When I questioned her, she smiled and told me that she had never believed in the Seven Gods since she was a child, nor had she ever believed in them after growing up. As for the oaths made in the name of the Seven Gods, she thought they were all insignificant lies."

Aegon Targaryen was completely stunned, unable to believe it.

"Father, your character is too unyielding. Fortunately, you didn't really commit suicide."

"Cersei didn't let me die. She reached out and pushed Brienne's elbow away, letting the dagger leave my throat. The other two Kingsguard and a tall female general worked together to subdue me, tied me up, and threw me into the black cells beneath the Red Keep."

"You were imprisoned in the dungeons of the Red Keep?"

"Yes, Aegon. I am still in the dungeons beneath the Red Keep, with chains locking my hands and feet."

"You are still being held in the dungeons of the Red Keep?" Confusion flashed in Aegon VI's beautiful violet eyes.

Jon Connington stopped speaking and quietly looked at Aegon Targaryen VI, without a word or a movement, just quietly looking at him, a hint of scrutiny in his eyes, as if he was not familiar with Aegon Targaryen VI.

The young king suddenly felt a pang of weakness in his heart, and cold sweat broke out on his back. He wanted to stand up, but found his legs weak. He wanted to shout, but found his throat blocked. He forced a smile and said, "Father, you're joking, aren't you? You're clearly right in front of me."

"Yes, I am in front of you, and at the same time, I am in the dungeons beneath the Red Keep. Aegon Targaryen, the Stark family of the North sends its greetings." Jon Connington tilted his head slightly, flicked his hair, and then his entire face changed, turning into the face of an unfamiliar girl. The girl's face was very beautiful, like the delicate elegance of a blue rose in the winter snow of the North. In the girl's hand, a dagger had appeared at some point, the hilt ornate and intricate, a dragon-shaped handle. The blade shimmered with a dark cyan light. It was a fine dagger made of Valyrian steel.

This dagger was first held by the assassin who tried to kill Bran Stark. After the assassin was killed, the dagger went to Bran's mother, Catelyn Tully. Catelyn Tully took it to King's Landing, where she met Eddard Stark, and the dagger went into Eddard Stark's hand as evidence to track down the assassin.

Littlefinger Petyr Baelish promised Eddard to help him secretly investigate the owner of the dagger, and the dagger went into Littlefinger's hand. During the coup in King's Landing, Littlefinger betrayed Eddard, using the dagger to strangle Eddard from behind. The coup was successful, Cersei took power, and the dagger returned to its original owner, back to the king's private armory. Arya Stark came to King's Landing and subdued Cersei, and the dagger from the king's private armory went into Arya Stark's hand again.

This is the fluctuating life of a peerless dagger made of Valyrian steel!

Now, this dagger was pressed against Aegon Targaryen's throat.

"Aegon Targaryen, your father Rhaegar Targaryen forcibly abducted my aunt Lyanna Stark, and ultimately impaled her in the Tower of Joy in Dorne. Your grandfather, King Aerys, hanged my great-uncle Brynden Stark and burned my grandfather Rickard. The younger generation of the Stark family learns this blood feud in school. I am Arya Stark of the North, and my father is Eddard Stark... When the North was attacked by the Others, at a time of life and death, you used any means to slaughter the followers and family of my messenger for the Iron Throne. You ordered the killing of Roland Connington's mother and wife, and two children, who were not warriors. Those two children were not even ten years old. Aegon, even if you sit on the Iron Throne, you will be a tyrant like the Mad King."

Aegon Targaryen was dumbfounded, covered in cold sweat, his handsome face devoid of blood, his kingly demeanor gone, and fear gripped his heart. "You, you are a Faceless Man?"

"I am Arya Stark."

"You have broken your oath. The Faceless Men will not avenge their own family, nor will they walk the earth under their own name."

"I am an exception, Aegon." Arya's eyes were as cold and merciless as the Valyrian dagger in her hand.

"Don't kill me." Aegon found himself kneeling in front of Arya. He didn't know how he had knelt. He heard himself begging incessantly, saying some incoherent words, as if saying that being king was not his intention, that he was forced by Jon, Rollam, Lemore, and Haldon, that the captain and generals of the Golden Company had come to his door to support him, and that the generals of the Golden Company said that whether it was a white dragon or a black dragon, it was still a dragon, and that the dragon was the true heir to the Iron Throne. He himself was unwilling to lead troops to attack the continent of Westeros, and he had no intention of sitting on the Iron Throne...

However, soon, Aegon felt the cold sharpness slice across his throat. His hands could not cover the cut on his throat, and hot blood spurted from between his fingers. His heart broke, his body spasmed, and the hot blood quickly drained his strength. He slumped down, falling into his own pool of blood.

Rhaegar's eldest son, Aegon Targaryen VI, seventeen years old, had his throat cut by Arya Stark's dagger. The wound was very deep, cutting through the entire throat, impossible to stitch.

"You shouldn't have harmed Ser Roland's two children, or the old people and women who were not warriors." These were the last words Aegon VI heard before his death.

*

Hush!

Rollam Darke was awakened from his sleep by a shushing sound. He rolled over and sat up, and standing in front of him was an unfamiliar girl, not very tall, but with a face like the moon, beautiful in appearance. Her hands were behind her back, cold as ice in the dead of winter.

"Who are you?" Rollam's voice was still calm. He reached for the short sword under his pillow, and his heart became even calmer.

"You are Aegon's Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, you are a warrior, so I will kill you!"

"Heh heh, little girl, are you here to kill me?" Rollam laughed, glancing at the sword belt on the wall. His sword was still on the sword belt and had not been taken.

"I just killed Aegon Targaryen VI, your king. I am a lone wolf from the North, and my name is Arya Stark."

Rollam's heart immediately turned cold. The other party was too calm, too sharp, and appeared too suddenly. What she said filled Rollam with despair. He was overwhelmed by a tide of fear. "Are you a Faceless Man hired by Cersei?" His voice changed, becoming hoarse and panicked.

"Cersei can't afford to hire me," Arya said indifferently. "Since you have already grasped the short sword, then strike."

"Good!" With that one word, Rollam's hand suddenly became steady. The instinct of a warrior made him brave, and valor flowed in his blood. With a flash of cold light, the short sword in Rollam's hand went straight for Arya's chest.

The chest had the largest area and was the easiest target.

Pfft!

The short sword pierced the enemy's chest, but it felt empty in his hand. A cloak was pierced by Rollam's short sword, and Arya, who was clearly standing in front of him, suddenly disappeared into thin air.

Rollam was shocked. He turned around, and a cold breath swept across his throat. He staggered backward, and the short sword in his hand fell to the ground. After several heartbeats, Rollam Darke fell to the ground, his eyes wide, and blood gurgled from his throat… He trembled all over, his face full of shock, his throat gurgling…

Faced with a Faceless Man, he couldn't even counterattack. He was just a fish on a cutting board. He refused to believe until his death that he was so vulnerable…

...

When Septa Lemore and Maester Haldon woke up, dizzy from the bumps, they found themselves tied to a horse, face down and back up, moving forward. It was already dawn, and they were no longer in Storm's End, but were traveling in the primeval forest of the Kingswood. The sound of horses' hooves was faint and broken. It sounded like there were four horses in total.

"Hey, who are you?" Haldon heard Septa Lemore's voice.

"A nameless man, really." The voice of Harry Strickland, the former captain of the Golden Company, now the commander-in-chief of the Royal Army, sounded faintly.

"Harry, what are you doing? Quickly let me down," Septa Lemore shouted, face down, only able to see the horse's legs, grass, bluestone slabs, fallen leaves, and branches.

She hadn't figured out the situation yet!

"Septa Lemore, swear in the name of the Seven Gods that you will become a true septa, healing the sick, praying, and naming the poor, and I will let you go."