The Wizard of Fury Chapter 57 (Patreon)

It shocked Harry that every time he returned, he found the walls of the Red Keep bleaker than before.

King’s Landing was doing relatively well after the failure of the King’s Tourney. The expanded trade with the Free Cities and the Reach made King’s Landing a fruitful place to live. There was plenty of work for merchants, bodyguards, and simple couriers to keep coins flowing through the city.

Of course, not everything was improving in the ways that such business was.

The major brothels along the Street of Silk had all been shut down by the king’s men. Much like as he’d done back on Dragonstone, King Stannis had barred all brothels from existence in King’s Landing. Of course, that didn’t necessarily mean that such establishments weren’t still operating, but they weren’t doing so as openly as before.

Other seedier businesses suffered as well. Gambling dens and taverns noted for their vices were being cracked down on by the gold cloaks. It was leaving the citizens restless and uneasy whenever they saw such men pass by.

And yet every time he tried to implore an ounce of moderation upon his father, he was met with the same response.

“Whores do not belong in the capitol,” Stannis declared, staring out the glass of his private solar high up in the Red Keep.

“The smallfolk grow restless,” Harry pointed out, gritting his teeth in frustration. “Holding to your virtues may be your undoing.”

“Then I shall die honourably,” Stannis retorted. “Yet, I do not believe that such an undoing will occur. The men here are loyal to me now that I have purged the Lannister’s influence from the castle.”

Most may be loyal to him, but Harry doubted that they all were. Those that remained would slowly have their faith in the king chipped away at. Either they’d be replaced by new knights or they’d lurk in the shadows, subtly spreading sedition wherever they went. Neither was an optimal option. It was best to find knights who’d be loyal to you and cultivate such loyalty over many years so that they’d never turn their backs from you so long as you upheld goodness and justice in your heart. Harry was trying to do exactly that back at Dragonstone.

“I’ve heard that your men have ransacked the taverns again,” Harry said. “Looking for foreign gold and bribes offered by houses large and small. How many do you think claimed a cut for themselves?”

“Any who have will see their due punishment in time,” Stannis said firmly, turning away from the window. He looked so much like a king should. His hair was cut short, the crown upon his head was heavy and fit well, and his garb was simple and not ostentatious like King Robert’s had been. He appeared much like a king at war, but the only war being waged was his own against his subjects.

“These are difficult times for us all,” Harry tried to remind his father. “King Robert was the first monarch to perish after the Targaryen’s reign ended, and there are many who still mourn his passing. The transition of power needed to be a smooth one with minimal changes to reassure the smallfolk especially that their lives would not change dramatically under the new leadership. Yet, you’ve done the exact opposite by barring prostitution and sending gold cloaks into their drinking establishments. These are the places that they go to rest and relax, however sordid they may be, and you are taking them from them without offering replacements.”

“They should find pride and honour in their duty—”

“That may be enough for you but it is not for them,” Harry insisted. “They will find such arguments unconvincing if they do not see obvious merits for such acts.”

Stannis levelled him a steely look. “They will learn.”

Harry shook his head in frustration. “Your rigidity is alienating the smallfolk and highborn alike. There will be those who cling to you regardless, either out of genuine loyalty or the expectation that they can gain something from allying themselves with you, but you will find few friends with such drastic actions.”

“So, I should find friends among those who frequent whores and drink to excess?” Stannis asked.

“Yes!” Harry exclaimed. “One or two vices does not ruin a man’s value.”

“You would not eat an apple if you found a wormhole in it,” Stannis argued back. “And if they did, they would excise the rot beforehand.”

“Men are not as simple as apples. There are far more beneficial ways to have handled these situations,” Harry argued passionately. “If whoring is such an offence, then why not tax the act? A copper per visit, or a silver for the finer establishments on the Street of Silk. Some men would be dissuaded from the act and the others would help to fill our coffers. Or have we miraculously recovered from the damage that Littlefinger did to the king’s accounts?”

It was a sore spot, Harry knew, but a point that needed to be made nonetheless.

Littlefinger had, through the magic of his books, drawn up coins where none should’ve been found. He borrowed and leveraged against half the kingdom, and his death only brought upon a series of troubles as the small council tried to untangle the web of mysterious accounting.

One of Stannis’ primary focuses since becoming king had been to eliminate the Crown’s debt. It was a necessity given the fact that Lord Tywin Lannister was threatening to recall parts of the loans he’d made to the Crown. The Iron Bank of Braavos was similarly keen on recouping some of their gold. Lord Mace Tyrell had given the Crown quite a hefty sum as well, but he was willing to allow the debt to remain. He’d even offered in good nature to give the Crown more gold to help repay their debts, but Stannis had refused the matter on the principle that he wanted nothing from Mace.

And so Stannis was relying upon the increased trade to help to pay off the Crown’s debts, but it would take a generation to offset such a momentous sum at the current rate. The fact that the King’s Tourney had been plagued with such ills had only made the debt even worse.

Stannis ground his teeth together. “I will not tacitly permit such vile acts in order to repair another ill.”

“What says your small council about such matters?” Harry questioned him.

“They will not sway my opinion on the matter, and neither shall you,” Stannis scowled.

The small council had changed greatly in the few months that Stannis had been king. Lord Eddard Stark remained as Hand of the King despite his clear interest in returning back home to Winterfell. Grand Maester Pycelle likewise remained due to the position being selected by the Conclave, the governing body of the maesters. Renly was still the master of laws and Ser Barristan was Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.

With Stannis elevated to the position of king, he’d made a surprisingly bold move in choosing Ser Davos Seaworth to serve as master of ships. The man was undoubtedly loyal and sound in his decision making, but many at court spurned him over his low birth.

Lord Varys had been removed from his position of master of whisperers. Stannis had never trusted the man who’d served the Targaryens so loyally before suddenly switching sides to serve King Robert. He’d sent the eunuch packing and had yet to replace him, believing that hosting a spymaster within the walls of the Red Keep to be a questionable notion despite how much his other councillors insisted that he should find a competent man or woman to take up the role.

Finally, as a show of good will, he named Willas Tyrell to the position of master of coin. Stannis had refused the suggestion of naming Mace Tyrell to the position, but allowing his eldest son to take up the role instead had been a compromise born out of influence from his lady wife and Harry’s. Willas was a highly intelligent man, and if there was anyone to help alleviate the Crown’s current debts, it would be him.

Stannis had made it clear to all of them from the onset that he would be ruling the Seven Kingdoms as he saw fit and not leave the task up to them as his elder brother had done. They were there to provide answers to questions he posed them and to exercise his decisions.

Still, Harry had hoped that his father would have learnt a bit of flexibility as he’d shown when Harry had been here in the capital with him. Instead, it felt like the burdens of being king had made him regress. He was as inflexible and unyielding as hardened steel, but Harry knew that only made it easier for his enemies to chip away at him until he’d finally break.

“Then do you have any further need of me?” Harry asked his father curtly.

“No,” Stannis replied, already turning away to matters of the Crown that lay in the parchment upon his desk.

Harry promptly stood up and left the chambers. As he walked off, Ser Barristan trailed closely behind him.

“Our king is strong and relentless in his quest for a just rule,” Ser Barristan began. “Yet, I fear that grumblings have already begun. The increased shipping activity out of the capital is drawing greater ire from the Westerlands. It is said that fewer ships are making it all the way around the continent to Lannisport.”

“I’m certain that Lord Stark and my uncle have warned him of this already,” Harry said with little patience.

“He does not listen,” Ser Barristan continued. “He has become the man I have heard tales about and not the man I came to know during his time here. I fear that the lack of your presence is allowing him to slip back into old habits. You bring a temperance out of him that no one else can.”

“My place is at Dragonstone,” Harry reminded him.

“Only by your father’s decree,” Ser Barristan argued. “There is an empty seat on the small council. Should your father be convinced to appoint you to it, then you could remain here and temper his judgement with your wisdom. He spoke of appointing you to such a position only months ago… but there has been much work to be done that took his focus away from you. I fear that his relationship with Queen Selyse is deteriorating as well.”

Could something deteriorate if it was never there to begin with?

Harry had seen the way that his mother enjoyed her lavish celebrations, inviting countless lords and ladies to attend her in the Red Keep. While her cousins had been wed to grand houses in the Reach, she’d been given Stannis and his rainy castle of Storm’s End. Then, they’d been sent by King Robert to live on the isolated island of Dragonstone. Now that she was in the capital, she was trying to make up for what she’d felt like she’d lost. Of course, Stannis had little patience for celebrations or the way she was quick to spend lavishly.

“I will do what I can while I am here,” Harry said. “But I fear that even I am struggling to change my father’s mind on most matters.”

Ser Barristan grimaced. “Any aid would be most welcomed. Lord Stark mentioned that he was keen to speak with you—”

“Lord Stark will have to wait,” Harry interrupted the man. “I have other pressing matters to deal with first, and you should return to your post.”

“Of course, my prince,” Ser Barristan bowed.

There were many eager lords and ladies who wanted to borrow Harry’s ear for even just a few moments as he made his way through the Red Keep. He offered them what he could: a passing word, a smile, a promise to speak to them later over supper in the Great Hall. A prince’s job was never done, but he had something very important to attend to while he was in the capital.

A carriage took him down to the docks where ships from the Free Cities were stationed. He’d ensured that word had been sent across to the merchants there that he was keen to find any bones or remnants of rare or strange creatures and would pay handsomely for them should they catch his eye. A simple word to the harbourmaster led to the captains of many of the ships disembarking with a crate or two each filled with wares they wished to show him. They lined up eagerly, hoping to turn a quick profit on some trinkets.

Harry allowed himself to relax as he went from captain to captain. Most objects they brought him with nothing more than the mundane sort: a large shark’s tooth, supposed feathers from a griffin, or ice said to have been formed from an ice dragon’s breath. Harry felt no magical resonance coming from any of the objects, and each passing captain was met with disappointment.

But there was a man who claimed to have bought cargo from another ship that’d been to Ibben in the Shivering Sea. Harry found strange tusks and furs amongst his wares, but when he dug deeper, he found two particularly unusual objects.

One was a large jar filled with whalebone the merchant claimed came from a leviathan larger than any ship that existed in the world. The other was a long, slightly-curved pale horn the merchant told Harry came from a unicorn that was hunted down atop the tallest mountain on Ib.

Undoubtedly, the merchant didn’t believe such tales. He had likely gone to Ibben and purchased all that he could find in the hopes of making a lucky gamble. Ironically, it paid off.

Both the horn and whalebone were magical. Or, at least, they felt magical to Harry. Either could serve as an adequate wand core for Margaery or Arianne, so he purchased them both for a hefty sum. He already had a cockatrice talon in his collection to bring home to them.

The remaining captains had nothing magical to offer him, but they all waxed sweet words and promised to return again with something more suitable to his liking. Of course, they had no way of knowing what he was actually interested in, but it was all the better that word spread that he was searching for objects like the ones he’d bought. He may need more wand cores one day if he found someone else who could perform magic… or if he had children.

The thought spurred something strong within his chest. Margaery was eager to bear him a child, and it was only a matter of time before she became pregnant. He’d always dreamt of having a big family of his own.

After leaving the docks, Harry met with King’s Landing’s carpentry guild and collected a new batch of blocks of wood from all across the Seven Kingdoms. These too would return to Dragonstone with him.

But his time in the capital was not over with yet.

The evening came fast as he was inundated with meetings with lords both high and low, eager jockeying for influence. Lord Jonos Bracken tried to ask for Harry’s interference in some trifling matter over land disputes with House Blackwood given the poor state of health of their liege lord, Hoster Tully. Jalabhar Xho once again asked for aid in retaking his territory in the Red Flower Vale in the Summer Isles. Lord Stark came to him and asked after Jon Snow.

The feast held in the Great Hall was not so grand or large as what would be found under King Robert. Harry was placed next to his father in a place of honour and had cups raised to him thrice throughout the night.

Standing guard at one end of the table was Ser Jaime Lannister. His blond hair and green eyes were lifeless as he stood on guard next to the newest member of the Kingsguard, Ser Richard Horpe. He looked for all the world like a dead man walking.

“You should bring Tyrion Lannister to court,” Harry told his father when the capon was served.

“I purged this court of Lannister influence. Why would I seek to add to it?”

“Lord Tywin is calling in his debts and we lack the gold to repay it. His influence has dwindled significantly with the death of his daughter and grandchildren, and he’s growing desperate to recuperate some of it. He’s doubtlessly still smarting from the fact that you refused his request that you grant Tyrion the position of master of coin, but he’s not so bitter as to throw away a potential opportunity to ally himself with you.

“Make it clear that Tyrion would be one of a select few considered for the open position of master of whispers. I understand your reasons for not wanting it filled, but the realm is expecting it to be. It may buy you a few months of peace before Tywin grows restless of waiting and asks that a decision be made on the matter. And in the interim, you can learn what you can from Tyrion about his father’s aims. His presence may also bring some life back to one of the men who’s sworn to defend your life.”

Harry finished by subtly gesturing at Jaime. His father would’ve removed him from the kingsguard if he could, but it was a position for life.

Stannis took a moment to think about the suggestion. “I would not want a Lannister whispering in my ear.”

“Because you fear that he could influence you?” Harry scoffed. “If your own son can not do such a thing, then what chance does he have?”

“You are too bold with your words,” he replied warningly.

“And you have become too rigid without me around to help you,” Harry retorted. “I have always known you to be a man who listens to good counsel, whether it comes from myself or one of your advisers. What I never expected was for you to become king and suddenly shut everyone else out.”

“I would not have said that I did not do my due diligence by eschewing important decisions off onto my councillors. The decisions I make are of great importance; they affect the lives of all who live in Westeros and even many who live beyond our borders.”

He was scared, Harry realised. Scared to make mistakes in the same ways that he saw his older brother making mistakes when he ruled. His fear manifested itself as a rigidity that demanded he be ultimately responsible for everything good and bad that came from the Crown. He would see it as a personal failure, a mistake, to delegate a decision to someone beneath him and have it be the wrong one.

“You must remember father that I am the crown prince,” Harry said, a bit more gently than his previous words. “I will one day be king, and I do not intend to make decisions that would be detrimental to my future rule.”

“Intent does not save you from being wrong,” Stannis argued.

“No, it does not,” Harry agreed with a pointed stare back at his father. “Intent does not save you from being wrong.”

A look of realisation flashed across Stannis’ eyes as he understood that his son intended those words for him to reflect upon as well.

“You may doubt those around you, father, but I would never betray you,” Harry told him sincerely. “I fear that your actions are alienating you from our enemies and those neutral to our cause as much as our allies. I want to help ensure you a long, peaceful, prosperous rule. But to do that, I need you to seriously consider my words and counsel when I give them to you. I fear that you are willing to fulfil your own ideologies ahead of the practical conduct that is needed to rule effectively.”

Stannis looked like he’d swallowed something sour by the end of Harry’s words. Yet, he shut down what must’ve been his first instinct to reject Harry entirely.

“I will think upon what you have said,” he told Harry.

That was all he could ask for.