Free A Clash of Kings by George R.R. Martin Page B

with that son of his, but Joff took it upon himself to give the mob a better show. What was I to do? He called for Lord Eddard’s head in front of half the city. And Janos Slynt and Ser Ilyn went ahead blithely and shortened the man without a word from me!” Her hand tightened into a fist. “The High Septon claims we profaned Baelor’s Sept with blood, after lying to him about our intent.”
    “It would seem he has a point,” said Tyrion. “So this
Lord
Slynt, he was part of it, was he? Tell me, whose fine notion was it to grant him Harrenhal and name him to the council?”
    “Littlefinger made the arrangements. We needed Slynt’s gold cloaks. Eddard Stark was plotting with Renly and he’d written to Lord Stannis, offering him the throne. We might have lost all. Even so, it was a close thing. If Sansa hadn’t come to me and told me all her father’s plans . . .”
    Tyrion was surprised. “Truly? His own daughter?” Sansa had always seemed such a sweet child, tender and courteous.
    “The girl was wet with love. She would have done
anything
for Joffrey, until he cut off her father’s head and called it mercy. That put an end to that.”
    “His Grace has a unique way of winning the hearts of his subjects,” Tyrion said with a crooked smile. “Was it Joffrey’s wish to dismiss Ser Barristan Selmy from his Kingsguard too?”
    Cersei sighed. “Joff wanted someone to blame for Robert’s death. Varys suggested Ser Barristan. Why not? It gave Jaime command of the Kingsguard and a seat on the small council, and allowed Joff to throw a bone to his dog. He is very fond of Sandor Clegane. We were prepared to offer Selmy some land and a towerhouse, more than the useless old fool deserved.”
    “I hear that useless old fool slew two of Slynt’s gold cloaks when they tried to seize him at the Mud Gate.”
    His sister looked very unhappy. “Janos should have sent more men. He is not as competent as might be wished.”
    “Ser Barristan was the Lord Commander of Robert Baratheon’s Kingsguard,” Tyrion reminded her pointedly. “He and Jaime are the only survivors of Aerys Targaryen’s seven. The smallfolk talk of him in the same way they talk of Serwyn of the Mirror Shield and Prince Aemon the Dragonknight. What do you imagine they’ll think when they see Barristan the Bold riding beside Robb Stark or Stannis Baratheon?”
    Cersei glanced away. “I had not considered that.”
    “Father did,” said Tyrion. “
That
is why he sent me. To put an end to these follies and bring your son to heel.”
    “Joff will be no more tractable for you than for me.”
    “He might.”
    “Why should he?”
    “He knows
you
would never hurt him.”
    Cersei’s eyes narrowed. “If you believe I’d ever allow you to harm my son, you’re sick with fever.”
    Tyrion sighed. She’d missed the point, as she did so often. “Joffrey is as safe with me as he is with you,” he assured her, “but so long as the boy
feels
threatened, he’ll be more inclined to listen.” He took her hand. “I
am
your brother, you know. You need me, whether you care to admit it or no. Your son needs me, if he’s to have a hope of retaining that ugly iron chair.”
    His sister seemed shocked that he would touch her. “You have always been cunning.”
    “In my own small way.” He grinned.
    “It may be worth the trying . . . but make no mistake, Tyrion. If I accept you, you shall be the King’s Hand in name, but
my
Hand in truth. You will share all your plans and intentions with me before you act, and you will do
nothing
without my consent. Do you understand?”
    “Oh, yes.”
    “Do you agree?”
    “Certainly,” he lied. “I am yours, sister.”
For as long as I need to be.
“So, now that we are of one purpose, we ought have no more secrets between us. You say Joffrey had Lord Eddard killed, Varys dismissed Ser Barristan, and Littlefinger gifted us with Lord Slynt. Who murdered Jon Arryn?”
    Cersei yanked her hand back. “How should I