chapter 148 part 1
**Chapter 148: Aftermath**
The torches on the walls cast flickering shadows.
With the soft tread of his boots, Glyn climbed two steps, then turned, looking down at Petyr Baelish.
"Lord Baelish, it seems you haven't grasped the situation. Your crimes have been confirmed..."
His tone was calm. "If you try to escape, I am fully authorized to execute you on the spot."
As Glyn's words fell, Petyr Baelish's heart sank.
Petyr Baelish's face was ashen. He had worked painstakingly, step by step, from the Fingers to a seat on the Small Council. With just a few more contacts, he could have gained the trust of the Starks. The ascent he had plotted for years was on the verge of success... He would have possessed even greater power and a higher status.
After this night, years of effort would be for naught.
Petyr Baelish suddenly laughed, his smile both bitter and sarcastic.
Glyn's eyes softened slightly, and his voice was gentle as he offered some comfort, "Lord Baelish..."
"Victory or defeat in the game of power can be decided in an instant. The victor need not be arrogant, nor the loser overly despairing. Once you've entered the game, whether you're a player or a pawn, as long as your life isn't in danger, it's merely the first round."
Petyr Baelish had to admit that Glyn's words had soothed him somewhat. At least, he wasn't so utterly disheartened now.
Today's upheaval had come too suddenly. Under Glyn's death threat, Petyr Baelish's resolve couldn't help but waver, but... he was ultimately a strong-willed player in the game of power.
"Perhaps the wealth I command could interest you in a new transaction between us."
"Lord Baelish, you need that wealth more than I do. We both know that shining golden dragons are the quickest way to buy support. I wouldn't want my greed to endanger your safety."
Petyr Baelish: "..."
He slowly and methodically adjusted his collar before speaking. "Lord Glyn, it seems my second round can only be in the Vale."
With another soft tread, Glyn descended a step and said, "The Vale is not a bad place."
Petyr Baelish's eyes flickered, and he murmured, "It is also a dangerous place."
He paused, then added, "The nobles of the Vale will not support me."
"Lady Lysa and the young lord will support you. That should be quite easy for you."
After a moment of silence, Petyr Baelish looked Glyn straight in the eye. "Lord Glyn, what exactly do you want?"
Glyn descended another step. He reached out and patted Petyr Baelish's arm.
"King's Landing will await your return, Lord Baelish."
Petyr Baelish stared up at the man before him for a moment, then withdrew his gaze.
He habitually curled the corners of his lips, his voice seeming to regain its usual composure and elegance.
"Lord Glyn, what would you have me do?"
"Lord Baelish, a man as wise as you doesn't need anyone to teach him how to walk, does he?"
"I stand before a truly wise man."
Glyn glanced at the dark corner of the wall. "Merely luck..."
"...the Starks..."
"...Luck..."
"...a friend..."
"...waiting..."
Footsteps faded, and their voices gradually grew faint.
***
The Hand's solar.
Varys was explaining to the enraged Lord Eddard.
His speaking speed was much faster than usual. "Lord Hand, my little birds can only listen and watch. They don't wield swords. If no one protects me, how could I dare speak out? You should know that Lord Baelish can buy anyone if he wishes, including my most trusted servant or my most trusted cook. What else can I do but tremble in fear?"
Varys wore an expression of extreme terror. "After I stumbled upon this information, I couldn't help but suspect everyone around me of wanting to harm me. Do you know what I fear most before I sleep every night? I worry that I'll never wake up!"
Lord Eddard frowned and said in a low voice, "Varys, if you hadn't chosen to conceal it, Lord Jon might not have died."
Varys's eyes widened. "When I learned of it, did you know how poor Lord Jon's health was? How could I dare... steal his son..."
He stopped himself abruptly, paused, then continued, "Lord Hand, I had to at least wait for his health to improve, didn't I? How could I dare provoke the old lord at such a time? I loved him as much as anyone."
Why was the truth so cruel? Lord Eddard closed his eyes in pain.
His wife's sister. In his memory, Lysa Tully had been a vibrant and beautiful young woman. Could time really make a person so malicious?
Lord Eddard opened his eyes, weariness in his voice. "Varys, do you know the reason?"
Varys shook his head. "Lord Hand, you must have heard that Lady Lysa suffered five miscarriages before she had her son. After that, she began to have hallucinations that someone wanted to harm her child, which is a very frightening thing."
He sighed and continued, "It is said... many people heard... that Lord Arryn planned to send the boy to Dragonstone to be fostered by Lord Stannis. Because of this, many heard the lord and his lady argue numerous times."
Varys clasped his hands, lowered his voice, and added, "Judging by the outcome, being separated from her child must have deeply provoked Lady Lysa, who was already in a fragile state. But who could have imagined it would lead to such a terrifying result?"
After speaking, he hunched his thick, short neck.
Lord Eddard: "..."
By the gods, how could this be? No reason could excuse the crimes Lysa had committed. How was he to judge her? When Catelyn learned the truth, she would surely be heartbroken... and I cannot embrace her.
Without a mother, what would become of young Robert Arryn in the Eyrie? The boy was Jon's only bloodline. He and King Robert were sworn to protect him and ensure he grew up well.
And Petyr Baelish... Lord Eddard's tall figure rose from his chair. He strode over and took Ice, the ancestral sword of House Stark, from the wall. Its Valyrian steel blade was as dark as smoke.
Lord Eddard's killing intent soared. Varys scurried back a few steps, trying hard to minimize his presence.
*Knock, knock, knock.*
Before Lord Eddard could respond, the door was pushed open. Petyr Baelish was shoved into the room by Glyn.
Petyr Baelish nearly stumbled, barely managing to steady himself.
"Shameless Petyr Baelish!"
Petyr Baelish heard Lord Eddard's voice, filled with fury. His gaze fell upon a greatsword gleaming with cold light.
Lord Eddard had already seen the testimony of Heward and five other witnesses, all of whom had once served Lord Jon.
The evidence was conclusive. Lord Eddard had no patience to listen to Petyr Baelish's cunning excuses. Before the execution, he would traditionally look into the man's eyes and listen to his final words; that would be his only chance to speak.
But this wasn't Winterfell, it was King's Landing. This was King Robert's Red Keep, and he was the King's Hand. The man before him was a member of the Small Council; he couldn't execute him unilaterally.
Varys's eyes flickered. He stepped forward and said with regret, "Petyr, it's truly unbelievable. How could you do such a thing? Lord Arryn trusted you more than anyone, yet you betrayed him with this most shameless act... Alas..."
He seemed unable to continue, shaking his head and sighing.