WMK 127 (Patreon)

Chapter 127: The Storm Breaks (Part 2)

Red Keep stood tall on Aegon's High Hill, its walls and main structure built from pale red stone.

By the time William arrived at the Red Keep, the sun was already high in the sky.

The massive bronze gates were wide open, and a crowd had gathered outside. Because he was on horseback, his view was unobstructed over the people, allowing him to see several dozen fully armed Gold Cloaks blocking the entrance, with the iron portcullis behind them closed shut.

Bold commoners, drawn by the commotion, stood before the gates, peering past the Gold Cloaks and whispering amongst themselves.

Further away, near the base of the walls, numerous carriages were parked. Nobles in splendid clothing gathered in small groups, talking quietly amongst themselves, their expressions also seeming somewhat unnatural.

Just as William was feeling puzzled, Bennard and two guards emerged from the shadows at the foot of the wall, leading their horses.

William dismounted and asked, "What's going on, Bennard?"

"When we arrived this morning and asked to see Lord Eddard, a steward told us Lord Eddard wouldn't be available until noon and asked us to wait in the square," Bennard said, also looking confused. "But not long after, a squad of Gold Cloaks came and drove everyone waiting in the square out."

'Oh no, could it be today?' William's heart sank. He instinctively rested his hand on his sword hilt; the Valyrian steel armor gave him immense courage.

He glanced at the ten guards beside him, then slowly lowered his hand. Without a word, he looked up and studied the fortress before him.

The pointed tops of massive towers rose above the walls, gleaming with a metallic sheen in the sunlight. Heavy walls surrounded the castle, with thick stone parapets protecting their edges. The walls were studded with countless embrasures and crenellations, and as the sunlight slanted down, it seemed one could catch the cold glint of arrowheads within.

His gaze traveled downward, spotting a locked side door not far from the main gate. A cat squeezed out through a broken hole beneath the door.

William's mind stirred.

The filthy black cat seemed to sense something, pausing with its paw still in the air. It turned its head, its single remaining ear twitching, and a spark of intelligence seemed to flash in its grey eyes.

Then it arched its back, stretched out its furry paws, and shot away like lightning, darting along the base of the wall until it was out of sight.

"Let's wait too," William said to Bennard.

The group moved to stand quietly by the wall, looking no different from the other waiting nobles.

Suddenly, William handed his reins to Bennard and said in a low voice, "Stay here with the men and provide cover. Miles, come with me."

Bennard frowned. "Ser, where are you going?"

"Into the Red Keep, to see what's happening. I'm worried someone means Lord Eddard harm."

"Lord Eddard..." Bennard said, alarmed and uncertain. "But how will you get in?"

William handed over his helmet as well and smiled mysteriously. "A friend is helping. Don't worry."

Bennard silently took the reins and the helmet shaped like a giant bat.

Looking around and taking advantage of the moment when no one was paying attention to them, William stealthily moved off to the left of the gate, with Miles following closely.

The two of them sneaked to a shadowy corner overgrown with weeds. In the wall was a rusty iron door that seemed almost fused with the stone.

William drew Dark Sister. The sharp blade sliced through the long-rusted bolt and hinges as if through soft cheese.

With his hand covered by the Valyrian steel gauntlet, William gripped the iron sheet and yanked the small door out. A grating sound echoed as pebbles fell.

When the dust settled, a narrow opening just wide enough for one person was revealed in the wall.

Inside the passage were two more iron grates, but before Dark Sister's sharpness, they were practically useless.

Miles stood guard outside, anxiously looking up along the wall. After ensuring no guards had noticed, he gently propped the iron door back against the opening and followed William into the Red Keep.

It was equally deserted and bleak on the other side of the door. At William's feet crouched the one-eared black cat, meowing at him twice.

He whispered, "No fish right now. Come find me later, I'll have as many as you want."

The cat stood up, gave him a disdainful look, then turned and darted into a nearby patch of grass.

Seeing Miles's strange look, William shrugged. "These cats run around the Red Keep all year round. It's normal for them to know some secret passages or small doors."

Miles's expression remained neutral, and he simply shrugged as well.

The interior of the Red Keep was vast, full of courtyards, arched halls, and covered bridges. Strangely, however, there were few people moving about, not even any animals. An ominous atmosphere hung in the air.

The two men fastened their cloaks to conceal the sigils on their surcoats, quickened their pace, and strode boldly towards the largest keep.

Although neither had been to the Red Keep before, they assumed the Iron Throne was likely housed inside. In the original story, Eddard was ambushed in the throne room, his men slaughtered, and he himself imprisoned.

As they caught sight of the imposing main doors from a distance, they also noticed the walls and the area around the doors were heavily guarded by Gold Cloaks.

The two had to hide around a corner and peer out cautiously.

William scanned the surroundings, hoping to find another cat or some other animal to infiltrate and scout.

Suddenly, he felt Miles nudge him. He turned his head just in time to see a large group of Gold Cloaks pouring out of the main doors.

Among them was a man being dragged by two burly men holding his arms. His steps were unsteady, his face pale, and his eyes vacant, as if he had lost his soul.

"Lord Eddard," Miles whispered.

William quickly calculated the odds of successfully charging in, rescuing Eddard, fighting their way out of the Red Keep, and then escaping King's Landing. He could only sigh inwardly.

If he were alone, relying on his Valyrian steel equipment and magic, he might be able to fight his way out safely. But attempting a rescue would likely result in him only bringing out a dead Eddard.

Just as the Gold Cloaks escorting Eddard disappeared around a corner, another group of fully armed Lannister soldiers emerged from the hall. At their head was a tall man wearing a high-crested golden sun-and-spear helmet. His white armor was edged with a thin line of gold paint, and a golden lion clasp held his white cloak fastened.

'A Kingsguard leading Lannister soldiers... Hmm, so this must be the group sent to capture Arya. If I can save Arya, it might at least comfort Lady Catelyn, and perhaps prevent her from making so many foolish mistakes.'

William said in a low voice, "Follow them."

The two men trailed the twenty-plus Lannister soldiers from a distance, watching as they entered a courtyard below a tall tower, leaving two soldiers standing guard at the entrance.

Looking around to confirm there were no other soldiers nearby, William finally made up his mind. He and Miles walked over at a leisurely pace.

Seeing someone approach, the Lannister soldiers grew wary. One with a small mustache asked, "Hey, who are you? What are you doing here?"

Suddenly, a scream came from within the courtyard. Then another cry of pain, followed by shouts, curses, and even the faint sound of fighting echoed from behind the door.

Seeing that the two men didn't answer, clang! The two soldiers drew their longswords. The mustached soldier's tone turned severe, "We are carrying out the King's orders, arresting traitors from House Stark. You'd best not interfere. Now, who are you?"

William laughed heartily, "Don't be nervous. We're just passing through. We'll be on our way immediately."

In the instant the two soldiers relaxed slightly, William's hand flew to his sword hilt. A cold light flashed, and a gruesome gash appeared on one soldier's neck.

The mustached soldier reacted very quickly, thrusting his sword forward. William's left hand shot out and grabbed the blade squarely. As the mustached soldier, horrified, instinctively tried to wrench his sword back, Dark Sister, carrying a biting cold wind, stabbed straight into his neck.

William withdrew his sword, watching as the two soldiers desperately clutched their necks, making gurgling sounds, and slowly slumped to the ground.

"Miles, guard the entrance. Put on their cloaks. If anyone else comes, pretend to be Lannister men."

Miles glanced at the now-dead mustached soldier. "His last line was pretty cool."

Stepping into the courtyard, William saw several corpses lying on the ground in front of the tall tower, all dressed as servants.

William ran straight into the tower. The spiral staircase was littered with corpses, blood flowing down like water. Screams continued to come from upstairs.

Following the sounds of fighting, William rushed upward. In a small hall, he saw five Lannister soldiers hacking away at a few servants who were putting up a futile resistance with stools, being cut down one by one.

Noticing someone with a sword appear at the doorway, assuming it was a Stark guard, two Lannister soldiers immediately abandoned the servants and charged at him from left and right.

William wasted no words. He pivoted and slashed at the soldier on the right, allowing the left soldier's sword to strike his back.

Clang! The blocking longsword was severed in two, the tip flying away. Dark Sister continued its path unabated, sending a spray of blood into the air. The soldier on the right screamed and fell backward.

Before he hit the ground, William had already turned, his sword cutting toward the left soldier. That soldier didn't even have time to raise his sword to block before his head flew off into the distance.

Seeing two comrades killed in the blink of an eye, the remaining three soldiers immediately sensed something was wrong, but still mustered their courage and roared as they charged forward.

William respected their bravery, so he killed them swiftly and efficiently.

The few surviving servants stood stunned, rooted to the spot. William growled at them, "Run! Escape through the secret passages or side doors! The man at the courtyard entrance is friendly; he'll let you leave."

The servants, as if waking from a dream, scrambled down the stairs.

As William stepped over the blood-soaked corpses, he thought one of the bodies twitched. He looked down.

The mortally wounded middle-aged man had a large, bloody hole in his chest. With his last ounce of strength, he raised a hand, pointing towards a room inside the hall. He managed only one word, "Ice...", before breathing his last.

Kneeling for a closer look, William recognized the man as Vayon Poole, the steward of Winterfell. He had been utterly loyal to Eddard and had ultimately given his life for House Stark.

No time for sorrow. William hurried inside. Shelves lined with books stood against the wall. A greatsword, taller even than Captain Levi, stood quietly beside a bookshelf.

The greatsword was much lighter than it looked. William hefted it, realizing Ice was indeed too large, unsuited for foot combat. Perhaps this sword was better wielded on horseback.

Slinging Ice across his back, he continued running towards the source of the fighting.

Passing through two smashed wooden doors, William stood under the archway. He saw a small room where several soldiers lay moaning and writhing. The small, bald former First Sword of Braavos, wearing leather armor and holding a broken wooden sword, stood facing off against the tall, metal-gleaming Kingsguard. A small figure disappeared through a door on the other side of the hall.

"You are from House Whent?" Meryn Trant's face showed unconcealed surprise.

The earlier fight had torn open William's cloak, revealing the black bat sigil on the surcoat beneath.

Seeing Arya disappear right before his eyes, William grew anxious. He charged forward and swung his sword down.

Although Meryn Trant was among the least skilled fighters in the current Kingsguard, anyone who made it into the Kingsguard had to be above average in prowess.

Although the strike was fierce, its exaggerated motion created a massive opening. Without a second thought, Meryn sidestepped and slid, evading the longsword while simultaneously swinging his own blade horizontally towards the attacker's chest and abdomen.

He had great confidence in his heavy sword. Even if the man wore the finest plate armor, a direct hit would, at the very least, inflict serious damage, if not kill him outright.

William was forced to dodge as well. This counterattack snapped him back to冷静 (lěngjìng - calmness/composure). His longsword flashed down again in an overhead chop.

The Kingsguard calmly raised his sword to block, already calculating his countermove.

However, William's target was the sword itself. With a loud Clang!, Meryn felt his hand go light. Seeing only half of his sword remaining, his soul nearly fled his body in terror.

"Die!" William roared, stepping forward, raising his sword overhead, and bringing it down with all his might.

Even steel-forged armor could not withstand this thunderous blow. Dark Sister mercilessly shattered the armor and tore through flesh.

A piercing shriek echoed.

A massive wound appeared on Meryn's chest, even revealing damaged internal organs. Blood gushed out uncontrollably.

Clatter. The broken sword fell from his hand. Horror froze on the Kingsguard's face as he toppled backward, landing with a heavy thud.

Syrio Forel threw aside his broken wooden sword, walked up to William, and said gravely in his thick Braavosi accent, "I am Syrio Forel. I thank you greatly."

"No need for thanks. I came to rescue Arya," William said, moving to the door through which Arya had disappeared. He looked down the long corridor but stopped resignedly; he didn't have time to search for her slowly.

Syrio's voice came from behind. "Do not worry overly much. Little Arya is very resilient and adaptable. I believe she will be safe and sound."

"I hope so," William said, turning around to see Syrio pick up a sword and finish off two Lannister soldiers who were still breathing.

Syrio wiped the blood off the blade on a corpse. "They knew your identity. It might have caused unnecessary trouble."

"Thank you. Master Syrio, I am William Whent. I don't know if you've heard my name."

"Your reputation thunders in my ears, so it is you." Syrio's expression showed sudden understanding. "No wonder you could kill a Kingsguard so easily."

"This is no place to linger. Since you know of me, perhaps you wouldn't mind leaving with me. I know of a hidden side door we can use to escape."

"Nothing would please me more."

The two quickly descended the tower, met up with Miles at the entrance, retraced their path, and successfully escaped the Red Keep.

Watching Miles prop the small door shut again, Syrio said, "Ser William, Arya should be able to escape the Red Keep. I will stay in King's Landing to find her. When I do, I will bring her to Harrenhal. You need not worry."

After expressing his gratitude once more for the lifesaver, the former First Sword departed alone in another direction.

Looking at the walls that seemed soaked in blood, William said to Miles, "We must hurry home. The storm is about to break."