"I want to talk to you."
In the room next to the Stag King's bedroom, Brienne found the red-robed woman sitting by the hearth, gnawing on a pig's trotter.
"About what?" Melisandre glanced up at the female knight, then went back to dealing with the plump pig's foot on her plate.
Brienne turned her head and glanced at the pockmarked knight standing at the doorway, sneering coldly. She hesitated before saying, "About blood magic."
"Burp." Melisandre tilted her head back and forcefully swallowed a large, chewy chunk of pigskin. Her fair, tender neck rippled as it moved, and the ruby hanging at her throat reflected a mesmerizing red glow in the firelight.
She wiped the grease from the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand, then picked up a wineskin and gulped it down in one go until it was empty. Only then did she gasp and say, "I was just about to head to the godswood. Let's talk as we walk."
"Oh." Brienne pressed her lips together nervously and followed Melisandre out of the castle.
The red-robed woman walked in front, Brienne a step behind, with two Knights of the Fiery Heart trailing three paces back.
One was peerlessly gorgeous and alluring, her red robes flowing. The other was tall and powerfully built, hideously ugly, clad in iron armor and helm.
The two women, so starkly different in style, drew stares and whispers from mercenaries, servants, knights, and wildlings as they passed.
Winterfell's godswood was nearly as old as House Stark itself. Spread across 120 acres, it had grown and multiplied over thousands of years, becoming almost a primeval forest beyond the frontier.
The four stopped by a hot spring pool behind the guest quarters, their feet sinking into the thick, soft layer of rotting leaves beneath them.
The Knights of the Fiery Heart seemed to have accompanied the red-robed woman here several times before and knew what she intended to do, so they obediently halted at a bend seven or eight meters away.
"I thought you were going to see the heart tree," Brienne said in surprise.
"See the face tree?" Melisandre chuckled softly. "I only want to burn it. The only thing in the godswood that interests me is this hot spring pool. You can try it later."
With a light laugh, Melisandre squatted down and dipped her jade-like hand into the steaming water, swirling it a few times. "What do you want to ask?"
Brienne steadied herself. Her thick, caterpillar-like lips wriggled a few times like a cow chewing cud as she rasped, "Can a shadowbinder curse someone through blood?"
"That question is as stupid as asking whether people can eat," Melisandre replied.
Brienne's left hand unconsciously moved to the hilt of her sword. Her gaze sharpened. "Shadowbinders in Volantis once used the blood of a noble to summon that noble's soul and bind it to a shadow. Can you do that?"
Melisandre smiled faintly, scooped up a handful of spring water, and rubbed away the grease clinging to her sleeve cuff. "Anything a shadowbinder in this world can do, I can do."
Clang.
It was as if a black-red bolt of lightning flashed by the pool.
Splash.
The smug smile froze on the red-robed woman's face. She tried to turn her head, but the instant she moved, a streak of blood seeped from her pale neck. With another splash, her head fell into the pool.
Hiss, hiss, hiss.
The strike had been too fast, the blade too sharp. Her body remained crouched there, while blood sprayed from the severed neck like a faucet with a loosened fitting, sending up a crimson mist.
Brienne's rough, round face went pale for an instant. The next moment, guards in the woods shouted, "Brienne's killed someone. Brienne's killed the High Priestess."
Well, what man would sit stiffly and properly while Aunt Mel bathed in clear spring water without sneaking a look or two, even if everyone knew she belonged to their own big boss?
The two Knights of the Fiery Heart hid their bodies behind the trees, but their eyes were wide open and their heels lifted high as they stared through the gaps in the branches toward the pool.
Hearing the knight's shout, Brienne seemed to snap out of a trance. She quickly raised her sword again and viciously stabbed the headless corpse several times, through the back, the spine, and the waist, piercing several transparent holes just as the Knights of the Fiery Heart rushed over.
Bang, bang. Two swords struck squarely at the back of Brienne's head, but only sent a spray of sparks off her iron helm and knocked her stumbling.
Brienne ignored them. After hacking the corpse into the pool, she swung her sword again, chopping at the back of Aunt Mel's head as it half-floated on the water.
How sharp was Valyrian steel? How great was Brienne's strength?
After several strikes, Aunt Mel's severed head split cleanly in two, red and white a blurred mess.
"Brienne, how dare you!"
The Knights of the Fiery Heart were shocked and furious, but no matter how they slashed at her more than ten times, her armor did not even dent.
"Pin her down," another knight shouted.
Brienne's brute strength flared. Like a football scorer charging with the ball, she barreled forward without regard for anything, ramming left with her thick, oak-stump-like shoulder, then right, knocking both knights to the ground before turning and running.
Once she burst out of the godswood, she sprinted toward the main keep. The godswood lay behind the guest quarters, which were connected to the main keep by an arched bridge. The Stag King lived in the guest quarters, while Lady Margaery led the Vale knights stationed in the main keep.
"Brienne murdered the High Priestess. Stop her."
"High Priestess Melisandre was assassinated by Brienne."
The knights training on the parade ground first looked confused, exchanging glances. When they realized the cries came from Aunt Mel's guards and saw Brienne running at full speed, they erupted in fury and howled as they charged at the female knight.
Clang, bang, crash. Thrown daggers and slashing swords were useless.
Some even loosed volleys of crossbow bolts, but Brienne was like a paladin charging a tower with invincibility, unstoppable, until—
Bang.
A burly warrior of the Fiery Heart swung a spiked mace as big as a rice cooker straight into Brienne's face.
With that single blow, the running knight was smashed backward into a tumble.
"Aaagh." Even with her visor on, the female knight let out a pig-slaughtering scream as blood poured down her chin.
In the next instant, soldiers swarmed in, hacking with blades, stabbing with swords, smashing with axes.
Brienne was like a turtle flipped onto its back, unable to get up, screaming as she was beaten.
Fortunately, the main keep's parade ground was only an arched bridge and a few dozen meters away from the guest quarters' training yard.
Very soon, Lady Margaery, Greatjon, and a group of northern heroes arrived with wildlings and Vale knights to break up the fight.
The Vale, the Eyrie, King Aegon's study.
The Imp trotted in on his misshapen short legs, thumping along, holding up a sheet of parchment, his face alight with excitement. "It worked!"
"It worked?" Aegon rose from the cushioned couch by the hearth, hurried over, took the letter, and read it quickly.
"Isn't it too simple?" Aegon frowned.
"Too simple," Tyrion nodded with a frown.
"But the head was cut off, the body split in two, blood and flesh everywhere, and the heart was pierced through." Aegon held up the letter, his expression conflicted.
"The head was cut off, the heart pierced, and it was done with a Valyrian steel sword." Tyrion nodded again.
"So, definitely dead?" Aegon's eyes flickered, caught between hope and hesitation.
"Dead beyond any doubt." The uncertainty on Tyrion's face gradually vanished, replaced by absolute conviction.
There was no need to consult the Dragon Queen anymore, because even if the Dragon Queen herself lost her head, she would still be finished.
After that, the two of them went together to the queen's bedchamber to find Jon.
"Dead? That makes sense. If a knight got close while you were completely unguarded, no one could evade it."
Jon held the letter, his expression desolate, a bitter spring welling up in his heart.
Gods above, what have I done?!
"Jon," Queen Sansa leaned over gently. Her soft, warm hand covered the back of her elder brother's broad, rough hand as she spoke softly, "I am truly happy. The moment I saw you and Rickon, I felt as if I had come back to life.
"But this is only the beginning. The door to happiness has just opened for us. Before long, you and Rickon will be uncles.
"In the future, I will take the baby to Winterfell, and I want to name him 'Edd.' What do you think?"
"Sansa, you should have several more children. Just Edd isn't enough. There should also be Robb, Catelyn, and Arya," Rickon said loudly from the side.
Jon looked at his youngest brother, then at his elegant and noble queenly sister. His gaze drifted downward and came to rest on her abdomen.
The loss and desolation on his face slowly faded away.
I did the right thing. For this family, so hard-won and finally reunited, I am willing to descend into the seven layers of hell.
(Big Black: You are overthinking it. My seven layers of hell do not take heretics!)
One day later, King Aegon rode the Black Dread, Tyrion rode Thessa with Jon in tow, and the three of them descended together into the front courtyard of Winterfell's main keep.
The two rival kings finally met.
Well, with Aunt Mel dead, King Aegon no longer feared any curse.
The main keep where the Duke of Winterfell resided.
In the great hall, where enormous direwolf pelts hung from the walls, the two parties took up their positions, each occupying one side of the hall.
The two kings sat facing each other. Behind each stood a group of helmeted and armored retainers, hands on hilts and blades. The King in the North sat between them, mediating between the two monarchs.
"Yes, I killed the priestess Melisandre." Brienne swept her gaze around the room, paused for a moment on Tyrion's numb, homely face, then nodded and admitted to the murder.
Her condition was still fairly good. Her hands and feet were bound in iron chains. She wore a sky-blue woolen vest and brown leather trousers. There were bruises and dark red marks on her broad, rough face. Her crooked nose, which looked as though it had been stepped on hundreds of times, had once again had its bridge broken. That was all, however, merely superficial injuries.
Compared to the attacks she had endured that day, these wounds were nothing at all.
This showed just how genuine and deep Aunt Dany's love for her grand-nephew was. That set of Valyrian steel armor was practically flawless.
Yes, that day Brienne had been wearing Aegon's Valyrian steel armor and had pried off the red three-headed dragon crystal set in the breastplate.
"Ser Brienne, your reputation has always been excellent. Upright, loyal, true to your word, even praised as the 'Cloakless Kingsguard.' Why would you commit such an atrocity?"
Chief Justiciar Jon subtly tilted the scales in her favor.
Stannis narrowed his eyes and stared at him, his gaze deep and heavy.
Brienne's eyes were resolute. She faced the varied looks of everyone present without flinching and declared loudly, "For my oath, for vengeance, and for justice!"
"Could you explain in more detail?" the Duke of the North asked.
"The shadowbinders of Volantis can use the blood of a person of importance to summon that person's soul and bind it to a shadow, then command the shadow to curse an enemy.
"I asked her whether she knew this sorcery. She said that as long as it was a spell mastered by shadowbinders, she was proficient in it. Then, while she was off guard, I suddenly struck and cut off her head."
Brienne concealed nothing. From the moment she sought an audience with Stannis to the killing of Melisandre, she recounted everything in full detail.
"Then Renly really might have been…"
"So that's it. Renly actually died by sorcery."
"That kind of shadow magic perfectly matches what Lady Catelyn described back then."
"Shadowbinders are too evil. That witch deserved to die. Who knows whether she might have cursed us next."
"Brienne of Tarth, the 'Cloakless Kingsguard,' truly lives up to her name. Loyal, righteous, decisive, and brave!"
"Indeed. The Dragon Queen truly did not misjudge her. Though Brienne is a woman, since Ser Barristan, there has been no one in the Seven Kingdoms with greater knightly spirit than her."
"The greatest knight of the post-Barristan era!"
"Gods above, Brienne is certainly innocent, but another person committed kinslaying. Almost on par with the Imp."
"Who would have thought he was that kind of man."
Many people had been present during Brienne's ordeal that day, and coupled with her excellent reputation, no one doubted her words.
However, the implications of her account were far too shocking. The nobles in the hall began to murmur among themselves, occasionally casting strange looks toward Stannis.
Aegon's expression did not change, but he could not help letting a smug smile curl at the corner of his mouth.
The Imp remained numb-faced, his eyes locked rigidly on Stannis across from him.
Stannis's jaw muscles bulged, his teeth grinding with an audible creak.
(End of chapter)
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