Longhorn

[The Flint]

"Lord Barret was my cousin, and a good man. I owe him much. Lord Regent Aaron Fossoway I know not at all. He storms and he rages, and he gloats. Such men do not win wars. Even if this stupidity was Barret's last wish, a wise regent would have seen it as the unfortunate last cries of a depressed man, and nothing more. Or at least waited till he had allies and friends. Still, I would not have it said that I am a rat fleeing a sinking ship. But I am a lord now, and I am responsible for lives besides my own rather poor excuse for one."

[Deleted]

"You are not a rat fleeing a sinking ship. You're going to build the ship back up, and throw the rats off. You will not regret this, and you will not fail, not on those pathetic lickspittles - Redwyne, the greatest traitor. Caswell is a pile of horseshit, especially his son Oliver. Hewett, that morningstar-fucking moron from the awards ceremony. Earl Crane, the puffing buffoon. Easy men to sway.

"I agree that Fossoway moved too hastily. He does not have the skill to win this war, from what I know of his opponents and their plans. But we want to do it with as little massacre as possible - you would do the Reach a service to win over his supporters, for that will save large portions of your homeland from destruction. And your lands will grow - I was not jesting when I promised you the Regency."

[The Flint]

Francis cringed visibly, "Thank you milady, but I want it not. The Iron throne isn't the only seat that cuts. I prefer to stand behind and whisper. And selling one's soul for a regency would be a poor deal," Francis smiled, "since regencies usually only last about 15 years at the most, if that. If you have a friend, you can share that lesson with her."

[Deleted]

That made Aranya laugh loudly, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "If she had the sense the gods gave an aurochs, she'd know. I think she does." Her smile faded as she looked at him, although her eyes still twinkled. "A regency of fifteen years is a ripe old time. You will be able to use that time to make alliances with other Kingdoms, make friends with the rest of the Reach, marry very well and enjoy Highgarden all the while. You are of Tyrell blood, after all."

She looked at him for a long moment. "What do you want?"

[The Flint]

"Well, perhaps if I weasel my way out of this mess, my future will be rosy." Francis punned, a smile on his face, which faded fast when the question was posed.

"I want what all men want. A good woman, strong boys, a heavy purse, and loyal men. But I was born a second son. From birth we learn to temper our ambitions. So long ago i put aside a love of things. But I never managed to put aside my love of knowledge. Especially secret knowledge. To see, and hear, things not meant for me. If only there was a position for one such as that. Some high and respected office." Francis offered a soft smile, and offered another hunk of meat to the thin white rodent.

[Deleted]

"The master of whisperers is Horas Blackwood," Aranya said flatly. "If you want to work for him, that is another matter. But I do not have the authority to promise away seats on the small council."

[The Flint]

"And I'm sure Horas Blackwood is a man good at his job. I am pleased to deal with a trader honest enough to not sell something they don't own. So let me ask you what do you have the authority to offer, milady?"

[Deleted]

Aranya looked at him for a very long moment, clearly as if she was irritated about something. "There is no other offer I am authorized to make. We are furious with Fossoway. You must know that my aunt, Lilith Bettley, the wife of the Hand Piers Bettley, is Fossoway's hostage. I am extremely displeased about this. As for Lord Bettley, his wife is dear to him. No one else in the world matters more."

She looked at him silently.

[The Flint]

Francis eyes squinted, "Well, it appears I've sold myself before we even negotiated a price. More fool I. Nevertheless, we have an accord. For my soul I shall trade for your good will, since both are eternal, I'm sure." Francis smiled again. The bit about the Bettley woman was interesting, although he wasn't sure what part it would play. "And if she can be freed?"

[Deleted]

Aranya nodded. "I am glad we agree on this. For the good of the realm, then."

At Francis' question, Aranya's smiled faintly. "Lord Bettley would bed you, if you wanted."

[The Flint]

Francis wrinkled his nose, not entirely sure Aranya is joking, "I was hoping for a marriage alliance out of the deal perhaps, but not a catamite. Still, I can promise you no harm will come to her. Whatever threats the rotten apple spots, I will assure she is not harmed. And will work for her return, as subtly as I can."

[Deleted]

"A marriage alliance is a very strong possibility. Who do you have in mind?"

"Thank you for your word," Francis could tell that Aranya spoke sincerely. "I am very fond of my aunt. I'm going to gut Fossoway just for threatening her."

[The Flint]

"You have such a better knowledge of the available ladies of the realm than I do, I would be inclined to hear your opinion on the matter. I'm afraid the balls i've attended at Highgarden have mostly involved Fossoway kidnapping his guests, so its not been the place for introductions. I am sure your aunt will not come to harm. But I will make what arrangements I can to insure it."

[Deleted]

Aranya snorted. "I do not attend balls. But there are many highborn ladies. Is there a particular kingdom you had in mind? We have several young lovelies in the Vale, I'm sure, although to be honest I never worry much about that sort of thing.

"I will trust you to make whatever arrangements necessary. And remember - make those bitches love you. When Fossoway goes down, they must betray him in favor of you."

[The Flint]

"Fossoways' demise will end this. I can sway the rest of the Reach to peace. And when we have it, perhaps I shall tour the Vale, and meet your many young lovelies. Is there more? Or are we settled?"