The Game of Cyvasse

Trial of The Lion - Part 2

In contrast to the coronation, all guests were seated between stone pillars, with an aisle twice as large, guarded by Targaryen men-at-arms in black surcoats and cloaks. A modest wooden podium had been erected for the two defendants, with plain wooden chairs. Just in front of them, on the throne dais, stood a bench for four judges. Aegon chose four men, each representing one pillar of his loyalists: Dagos Manwoody for Dorne, Lymond Pease for the Golden Company, Garth Tyrell for the Reach, and Lord Rykker for the Crownlands. The king sat above them, in the throne, as the fifth presiding the council of judges.

From the gallery, Aegon met scorn as Cersei Lannister cast her first gaze upon him, her open jaw seemingly eager to swallow him whole. Lannister Lords in fetters encircled her, witnessing the trial. Tywin's brother, Kevan, appeared composed and weary, while his son Lancel sported the scar of a lost ear, gone in defense of the city. The marred face did not trouble his father; rather, there was a touch of pride, as his son wore the badge of courage. Another Lannister champion gazed, Ser Addam Marbrand, a man who had slain two knights before yielding himself. Among the Lannister sworn men also stood out Harry Swift, who led a failed charge against Aegon's ranks.

The clank of shackles heralded the arrival of the accused. Filthy and tattered, from afar, they looked like two peasants after a long toil in the field. For the first time in his life, Aegon set his eyes on his mother's murderer. Not the mindless brute heeding his master's evil will, but the mind itself, a word that spells death. The command personified in a flesh of a man. Hate stirred in Aegon, something he foresaw but never this much. He gripped the armrest of the throne so hard that the three-hundred-year-old blunt blade sliced his finger. What he loathed the most was the man's appearance, the parched skin on the wan old face, and the ragged garb worn for days in the black cell. Yet, an aura of self-confidence and authority emanated from the man, and even in wretched state like this, he still commanded respect. The Black Cells had taken naught from him. Blonde Joffrey, was elsewise broken, had his head already marked for the headsman's axe. The boy met eyes of his mother and rebuffed her tenderness with an irritated glance.

"Oh, heavenly Father, have mercy upon the innocent and unleash Your wrath upon the guilty of heinous crimes and desecration of your laws," many shades of light shone from the High Septon's Crystal Crown, enveloping accused and judges alike.

Tyrell Seneschal rose, reciting the charge, "Tywin Lannister, the former Lord of Casterly Rock, is accused of the murder of Princess Elia and Princess Rhaenys, along with countless other crimes during the treacherous havoc through the blameless folk of King's Landing." The title of "the former Lord" caught Tywin's attention, and he looked at Aegon with a slight smile. "The false King Joffrey Baratheon, sired of an incestuous relationship between Cersei Lannister and her brother, the kingslayer, and oathbreaker Jaime Lannister, is accused of usurping the throne and defiling the Great Sept of Baelor with the murder of Lord Eddard Stark." The accusations against his own grandson troubled Tywin more than his own.

"Lies!" Cersei Lannister screamed from the gallery. "No hhore's spawn will tarnish my name."

"Be silent, or you will be dragged out," Aegon said coolly, and Cersei retreated, spurning her uncle Kevan's proffered hand. On the other side of the gallery, Aegon glimpsed Sansa smiling. His heart yearned it was meant for him.

"The accused will declare their guilt," Lord Manwoody resumed in place of Tyrell.

Lifting his eyes, Tywin Lannister surveyed the room, disregarding the judges, and gazed towards his daughter and brother. Concern and disdain spoiled his rock face. "I do not acknowledge the authority of this court, nor the lawfulness of this king." It was a lie, and a plain one. He knows I am Aerys's blood.