GOT: The Great — Chapter 230 - Oathbreaker — Face to Face

After taking Tyrion to see Jaime, Drogo returned to the Painted Table chamber.

Daenerys, Melisandre, and Sansa Stark had not yet left.

He walked to the window and watched Tyrion's ship grow small against the water. Then he said, low and flat, "I will not honor the agreement with Tyrion."

Melisandre stood beside the brazier. The red glow painted her face half in light, half in shadow.

Sansa Stark sat in a chair with Brienne of Tarth standing behind her. Barristan Selmy and the Unsullied guards formed a line at the door.

Daenerys Targaryen stood on the far side of the Painted Table. The spot furthest from him.

Drogo let the silence sit after he said it. He wanted to give them time to absorb it.

Melisandre's eyes flickered in the firelight. He didn't need to guess what she was thinking. Followers of the Lord of Light had never cared much about deception, so long as it served to defeat the darkness.

In her eyes, as long as he marched against the Others in the end, lying to a few people along the way was nothing at all.

Sansa Stark's expression shifted. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and her hands clasped together on her knees.

House Stark held oaths as dear as life itself. She was probably mentally pinning the label "oathbreaker" to him right now.

"All is fair in war," Drogo said. "And Tywin is unlikely to take the peace message Tyrion brings home at face value. That old lion is even more cunning than I am."

Daenerys Targaryen nodded. She and Drogo had done the same thing at Astapor, traded a dragon for a city's army, then turned around and burned the slavers.

She understood.

"The five hundred thousand common people in King's Landing are innocent."

"I know." Drogo kept his voice easy. "Before any of that, I will take apart Cersei Lannister's plan to blow up the city."

What he was actually thinking: unless another kingslayer appeared and cut Joffrey and Cersei Lannister down beneath the throne, King's Landing would still end up in flames.

"I have a man inside King's Landing. Master of Coin, Lord Protector of the Eyrie, Lord Paramount of the Riverlands — Petyr Baelish is mine. He promised to create chaos in King's Landing when the time came. That time is now."

At the name Petyr Baelish, Sansa Stark's fingers moved.

The spymaster Wodevar Tamad strode in. He swept the room, Daenerys Targaryen, Melisandre, Sansa Stark, Barristan Selmy, the Unsullied guards, then fixed his gaze on Drogo.

Drogo waved him forward. "No outsiders here. Speak."

"All unit commanders have been contacted. We can launch the general assault on King's Landing at any time."

Drogo walked to the Painted Table and tapped his finger twice on King's Landing.

"The situation has changed. We do not assault the city directly." His finger moved from King's Landing to Flea Bottom outside the walls. "I want every single person inside King's Landing to know one thing: Cersei Lannister has hidden wildfire throughout the city. She means to drag the entire city down as her funeral pyre."

"Where do we start the rumor?"

"Taverns, brothels, the fish market," Drogo said. "Pick your people. Have them slip into the city disguised as refugees fleeing the war. If anyone asks, tell them Daenerys Targaryen is not here to sack the city — she is here to save lives. Open the gates, and no one has to die."

Wodevar Tamad was quiet for a moment, his brows drawing together.

"Khal, the agents I trained after Lord Varys's methods are all little birds — half-grown children. They are good at stealing information. But spreading rumors? I doubt anyone would take them seriously."

Before Drogo could answer, Sansa Stark spoke.

"Use women."

Everyone looked at her.

"I don't mean camp followers." She glanced at Wodevar Tamad, then turned to Drogo. "Street-level gossip in King's Landing is not carried by men. It's the baker's wife, the fishmonger's daughter, the widow at the washhouse. They talk to half the city every single day. Nobody guards their words around them."

Wodevar Tamad considered it, then nodded slowly. "With King's Landing deep in famine, using food to buy a few women's cooperation, that would not be difficult."

"They need to be taught how to say it," Sansa Stark added. "Not like reading a proclamation. In King's Landing, the news that truly frightens people is always said quietly, like sharing a secret. The softer the words, the faster they travel."

She had spent two years in King's Landing. Two years as a hostage. Two years as the Stark orphan girl no one thought to worry about. Those two years had made her into someone who understood King's Landing in her bones.

"Do as she says," Drogo told Wodevar Tamad.

Wodevar Tamad turned and left.

Drogo looked to Barristan Selmy.

The old knight stepped forward from the doorway, hand resting on his sword hilt, back straight as a lance.

"Ser Barristan," Drogo said. "The people in that city still remember you."

Barristan Selmy did not deny it. Decades in the Kingsguard. The last Blackfyre cut down in the War of the Ninepenny Kings. The Mad King pulled from Duskendale alone and alive. His name was known everywhere, from the Red Keep to Flea Bottom.

"Take men into the city. Find the Alchemists' Guild. Locate the old pyromancers who planted the wildfire caches throughout King's Landing, and use gold to open their mouths."

"I want the location of every cache."

"I will not fail you, Khal." Barristan Selmy met his eyes. No hesitation in them.

"If you cross paths with gold cloaks, avoid them if you can. If you can't, kill them." Drogo held his gaze. "Take a few Unsullied with you. Grey Worm has already selected the men. They'll go in as your attendants."

Barristan Selmy lifted his hand from his sword hilt and dropped to one knee.

When everything was settled, Drogo said, "All of you. Out."

Daenerys Targaryen only looked at him. Her lips parted slightly, then closed again without a word. She turned and walked out of the Painted Table chamber.

The Unsullied guards stepped aside to let her pass, then fell in behind her.

Sansa Stark rose to follow.

"You stay." Drogo said it to Sansa Stark, and Brienne of Tarth's steps stopped too. He looked at Brienne of Tarth. "Go on. She's safe with me."

Brienne of Tarth left with Melisandre.

The Painted Table chamber held only Drogo and Sansa Stark.

The coals in the brazier had burned low. Melisandre was gone. Jonina had taken Perce away. No one had thought to add more charcoal.

Drogo walked to Sansa Stark and lifted her chin with one finger.

How long had it been since they had spoken alone? Since that night outside Storm's End, when he had taken her seven times under the open sky with three dragons watching, not once since.

Not by design. The war simply hadn't stopped.

One battlefield after another. One negotiation after another.

"Your uncle Edmure Tully is at the Sea Dragon Tower. Have you seen him?"

"I have. He told me you forced him to surrender Riverrun. That you gave Riverrun to House Frey." Her voice stayed level. "To my enemies."

"But he also told me it's temporary. That after King's Landing falls, you'll march north and destroy the Freys."

"That's right," Drogo said. "When I was at Harrenhal, I also..."

"Uncle Edmure told me."

A beat of silence.

"My mother was also at Harrenhal. The Lord of Light brought her back." Sansa Stark looked down at her hands, fingers laced together in her lap. "Our family has been faithful to the Old Gods for generations. Before, I hated that red priestess who followed Stannis everywhere."

"She burned the statues of the Seven. She burned the heart tree at Storm's End. I thought she was a heretic." A pause. "Until I learned that the Lord of Light resurrected my mother."

"I prayed beneath a weirwood so many times. In King's Landing, before Joffrey made me look at my father's head. I prayed every day. The Old Gods never answered. Not once."

"Now I understand Stannis Baratheon. Why he could bring himself to burn every heart tree outside Storm's End."

Drogo smiled, just slightly, and pressed his lips to her forehead.

➤ Next: Above the Sea of Clouds