8th Month of 299 A.C. King's Landing
Lord Renly Baratheon
King's Landing was teeming with men, the might of the stormlands and the Reach gathered within the city, preparing for the inevitable conflict to come. The royal fleet was docked and ready to depart with Queen Margaery at a moment's notice, the Redwyne Fleet was patrolling the seas ensuring that none would dare come toward them unannounced. Renly was taking no chances, the events of the past year had shown that caution was a necessary thing, the game of thrones was only growing in stature and power, and there was little he could do to avert it, he would have to ensure that it remained strong and hale. The King was remaining strong and proud thankfully, but, there was something about this whole situation that seemed off to Renly, he was not quite sure whether or not he really believed things had gone as they had out in the field. Yes, the Targaryen boy had three dragons, of that he had no doubt, but he was not so ready to believe that the dragons were big enough to ride, nor do damage to an entire host of twenty thousand men, or even the host under Rowan. Something was wrong, he was not sure what.
That was what this council meeting was about, planning and preparing for the fight that was to come. Renly looks around the council chamber, takes in the looks of dread on some of the small council members faces, and decides to speak. "Lord Caron is a prisoner, his army either dead or frozen, if one is to believe the word of those who managed to flee. Lord Rowan is dead, alongside many of his soldiers. Aegon Targaryen is advancing on the city, but I would know just what it was that gave him such a solid lead."
Lord Grandison, the master of whispers speaks. "My lord hand, if I may?" Renly nods and the man continues. "From what I have been able to gather, it seems that Lord Caron deliberately chose to take only foot soldiers with him to face Aegon Targaryen and his allies, he did not take any horse with him nor any archers. He was always destined to lose in that fight, but then that was what we wanted, to dent Targaryen courage. Needless to say I do not think it worked."
"And what might the cause of that been?" Renly asks impatiently, he is growing tired of the games that this man plays, a true master of whispers.
"Well, from what my sources have told me, and from speaking to the survivors who escaped, it appears Targaryen mounted his dragon, the white one I believe, and that was what broke the army for good." Grandison responds.
"I had thought you said the dragons were not big enough to ride yet?" Tarly enquires, his tone rough.
Grandison shrugs his shoulders, a gesture that draws a scowl from Tarly. "I had thought that things were as simple as that my lords, I was wrong. It is clear that I had underestimated the Targaryen boy and his desire to ride the beasts. My sources had told me that he was quite unwilling to try anything that might make him seem less of a Northman. It seems that this has changed."
Renly nods, there is no point trying to deny that fact, the boy can now ride his dragons, well one of them anyway, there is still the matter of the other two, but that is a matter for later, now, Renly fixes his attention on Lord Mace and asks. "How solid are the defences of the city?"
Tyrell takes a moment with his answer, clearly wondering why he is not Hand of the King yet, but that is something he might never become with what is about to happen. "The defences of the city are solid my lord Hand." The words come out forced, and Renly rolls his eyes. "We have mounted trebuchets on all of the outposts, and there are ballistae on every wall. The Green cloaks and the gold cloaks have had extensive training in how to work them, and their times between loading and clearing the weapons have decreased significantly."
After learning of the dragons and the success that the Targaryen boy had had, Renly had ordered the construction of these weapons, drawing on memories and recollections from his time with Cressen and with Pylos. "Good, are they quick enough to load and reload against dragon fire and ice?" he enquires.
Tyrell hesitates a moment, sensing the trick within the question, the man is not completely thick, and that is what reassures Renly oddly enough. "Well one can never be too sure, but they are as fast as is humanely possible my lord hand."
"Good, very good." Renly replies before turning to Lord Tarly, a man who has remained quiet except for his little question earlier. "My lord Randyll, tell me, with the situation that we are going to be facing, what would you do? How would you approach it?"
Tarly takes a moment to think over this, his face scrunching up in concentration, eventually he speaks. "I would station men on the northern and western walls, that is the direction that the boy's army is likely to be coming from. The clans of Crackclaw Point might remain out of this fight for the time being, or they might not. But I would have archers stationed on the western and southern walls just in case."
Renly nods, knowing that Stannis would likely take offense if he had heard that last part, but Stannis is not here, no he is preparing the defences of the bay against a possible naval attack, though from where the boy would get a navy, Renly is not so sure. "Very well, and how would you handle the dragons?" whilst he knows the boy will have trebuchets as well, the dragons are his main concern.
Once more Tarly is silent, considering the information available to all of them, and then he replies. "I would keep the fire low until they come toward the city, or within range of the city, and that is when I would fire. And even then I would use something to lure them in."
"What would you suggest?" Renly asks curious.
"Meat, blood. An offering of innocence." Tarly replies in a tone that sends shivers down Renly's back.
Renly speaks before anyone else can get involved, determined to end the meeting here and now. "Very well then. Thank you all for your input, it is time for us to all prepare for the events to come." With that he rises and walks out of the room, he knows that ideally the King would have been there to prepare them all for this, but the King is with his wife, and as far as he is concerned Renly is alright with that, the King will have to give a lot in the coming days, he can be selfish for just one day. Loras is guarding the King and Queen, as he should, so Renly walks back to the Tower of the Hand, determined to enjoy what few hours he has of peace, they do not know exactly where the Targaryen army is, but Renly assumes that they shall be approaching relatively soon.
As he walks toward the tower, Renly finds his thoughts consumed with some of the worries he has been having as of late. There is something off about Stannis, well there has always been something off about Stannis, but as of late, he seems even more withdrawn and secretive than he has ever been before, and Renly wonders at that, wonders if there is some truth in the rumours he has been hearing, though they make him laugh. The thought of his brother having a lover, that would be more Robert's palate than Stannis's. Stannis, the grim brother who left him in Storm's End and never wrote back to him, when he was a child, Renly could not understand, did not understand, why his brother, the brother who had been so kind and caring before, had suddenly stopped speaking to him, had stopped replying to his letters, who never came to visit. It was only when he became a man and came to King's Landing that he realised, Stannis was jealous of him, hated him for getting Storm's End and their brother's affection. When he had realised that, Renly had wanted to laugh, it seemed too petty for his brother, the rock on which Robert had relied on many times, but as he had grown older, he had come to realise that petty was exactly what his brother was. Renly did not care for Stannis, he hated Stannis. And if Stannis had a mistress, well that was his prerogative, Renly could only hope his brother caught something from the whore.
That thought makes him laugh and brings him comfort for a time, he arrives at the tower and begins the ascent up the steps toward his room, he does not know how long he will get to spend here, so he plans on making the most of what time he has. There is a tunnel linking his room to a brothel, he knows that, knows that it was installed by a Hand long ago, though whom it might be is narrowed down to either Tywin Lannister or Jon Arryn, depending on when one thinks that the brothel in question was established. Jon Arryn, now that was a man Renly could never get a read on, he was direct, but also secretive, he had honour, but it was something else. Renly knows that had Arryn not died, likely this war would not be happening, and so in a sense he is glad the man is dead, they needed to fight, to wage a war, to decide once and for all who would sit the throne. He arrives in his room, the solar to be precise, and looks around, this is his room, his tower, but how long that will remain the case he does not know. He walks to the tale and sits down, and begins reading through some letters that he left on his desk.
Well, they're not really letters, more notes he had found stashed away in a hidden compartment of this very room. Notes from the time of the first Targaryen King and the last, notes that speak of the things the Hand had to do when the Targaryens were gods amongst men. It makes for a very interesting read, seeing how the hands dealt with the Targaryen ego and their desire for power, at the expense of the monarch, and then there are Tywin Lannister's notes. The man might be dead now, but the echoes of his work remain within this place, there were reforms he made, and reforms he overturned, and it is all there before Renly, his explanations for doing as he did, his fears for himself, never for his family though, only for himself and his position, occasionally the odd mention of his wife, but nothing more. So Tywin Lannister really was a cold bastard, and Pycelle, well the words on Pycelle do not really surprise him. Renly had long ago suspected that Pycelle was a Lannister spy, and for reasons other than being in love with Tywin. He finds himself wondering what other secrets are within these writings, do the hands ever mention what to do should dragons attack? The notes of Otto Hightower are gone, disappeared long ago, but there are notes from Unwin Peake that speak of his role in the death of the dragons, Renly thinks that he might well use those notes in the coming battle.
The sound of footsteps near his door draw him out of his reverie, he stashes the papers under something else, and calls out. "Who is it?"
A guard appears at the door, his face flushed, his breathing laboured. "My lord Hand, the scouts have sighted an army, flying the Targaryen banner."
Renly digests this information and then says. "Get the King, and prepare the walls." The man nods and hurries off, leaving Renly to think over this, the only thought in his mind is that it has begun.