A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle

whosoever dons the crystal crown must pronounce an anathema upon the Imp.” This last High Septon had been conspicuously silent regarding Tyrion. “As for these pink sparrows, so long as they preach no treason they are the Faith’s problem, not ours.”
    Lord Orton and Ser Harys murmured agreement. Gyles Rosby’s attempt to do the same dissolved into a fit of coughing. Cersei turned away in distaste as he was hacking up a gob of bloody phlegm. “Maester, have you brought the letter from the Vale?”
    â€œI have, Your Grace.” Pycelle plucked it from his pile of papers and smoothed it out. “It is a declaration, rather than a letter. Signed at Runestone by Bronze Yohn Royce, Lady Waynwood, Lords Hunter, Redfort, and Belmore, and Symond Templeton, the Knight of Ninestars. All have affixed their seals. They write—”
    A deal of rubbish.
“My lords may read the letter if they wish. Royce and these others are massing men below the Eyrie. They mean to remove Littlefinger as Lord Protector of the Vale, forcibly if need be. The question is, ought we allow this?”
    â€œDoes Lord Baelish seek our help?” asked Harys Swyft.
    â€œNot as yet. In truth, he seems quite unconcerned. His last letter mentions the rebels only briefly before beseeching me to ship him some old tapestries of Robert’s.”
    Ser Harys fingered his chin beard. “And these lords of the declaration, do
they
appeal to the king to take a hand?”
    â€œThey do not.”
    â€œThen . . . mayhaps we need do nothing.”
    â€œA war in the Vale would be most tragic,” said Pycelle.
    â€œWar?” Orton Merryweather laughed. “Lord Baelish is a most amusing man, but one does not fight a war with witticisms. I doubt there will be bloodshed. And does it matter who is regent for little Lord Robert, so long as the Vale remits its taxes?”
    No,
Cersei decided. If truth be told, Littlefinger had been more use at court.
He had a gift for finding gold, and never coughed.
“Lord Orton has convinced me. Maester Pycelle, instruct these Lords Declarant that no harm must come to Petyr. Elsewise, the crown is content with whatever dispositions they might make for the governance of the Vale during Robert Arryn’s minority.”
    â€œVery good, Your Grace.”
    â€œMight we discuss the fleet?” asked Aurane Waters. “Fewer than a dozen of our ships survived the inferno on the Blackwater. We must needs restore our strength at sea.”
    Merryweather nodded. “Strength at sea is most essential.”
    â€œCould we make use of the ironmen?” asked Orton Merryweather. “The enemy of our enemy? What would the Seastone Chair want of us as the price of an alliance?”
    â€œThey want the north,” Grand Maester Pycelle said, “which our queen’s noble father promised to House Bolton.”
    â€œHow inconvenient,” said Merryweather. “Still, the north is large. The lands could be divided. It need not be a permanent arrangement. Bolton might consent, so long as we assure him that our strength will be his once Stannis is destroyed.”
    â€œBalon Greyjoy is dead, I had heard,” said Ser Harys Swyft. “Do we know who rules the isles now? Did Lord Balon have a son?”
    â€œLeo?” coughed Lord Gyles. “Theo?”
    â€œTheon Greyjoy was raised at Winterfell, a ward of Eddard Stark,” Qyburn said. “He is not like to be a friend of ours.”
    â€œI had heard he was slain,” said Merryweather.
    â€œWas there only one son?” Ser Harys Swyft tugged upon his chin beard. “Brothers. There were brothers. Were there not?”
    Varys would have known,
Cersei thought with irritation. “I do not propose to climb in bed with that sorry pack of squids. Their turn will come, once we have dealt with Stannis. What we require is our own fleet.”
    â€œI propose we build new dromonds,” said Aurane Waters. “Ten, to start with.”
    â€œWhere is the coin to come from?” asked Pycelle.
    Lord Gyles took that as an invitation to begin coughing again. He brought up more pink spittle and dabbed it away with a square of red silk. “There is no . . .” he managed, before the coughing ate his words. “. . . no . . . we do not . . .”
    Ser Harys proved swift enough at least to grasp the meaning between the coughs. “The crown incomes have never been greater,” he