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

supposed one would have to do.
“Tell me about our friends on the council.”
    His sister glanced at the door. “What of them?”
    “Father seems to have taken a dislike to them. When I left him, he was
wondering how their heads might look on the wall beside Lord Stark’s.” He
leaned forward across the table. “Are you certain of their loyalty? Do you
trust them?”
    “I trust no one,” Cersei snapped. “I need them. Does Father believe they are
playing us false?”
    “Suspects, rather.”
    “Why? What does he know?”
    Tyrion shrugged. “He knows that your son’s short reign has been a long parade
of follies and disasters. That suggests that someone is giving Joffrey some
very bad counsel.”
    Cersei gave him a searching look. “Joff has had no lack of good counsel. He’s
always been strong-willed. Now that he’s

king, he believes he should do as he pleases, not as he’s bid.”
    “Crowns do queer things to the heads beneath them,” Tyrion agreed. “This
business with Eddard Stark . . . Joffrey’s work?”
    The queen grimaced. “He was instructed to pardon Stark, to allow him to take
the black. The man would have been out of our way forever, and we might have
made peace 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